Pink Hair at a Funeral
By: Amy Elizabeth
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All belongs to JK Rowling
A/N: Well. Two years later…. it was more than a little hard to get back into this but I wanted to try this story out.
Happy. She felt happy. Effusively, radiantly happy.
At a funeral.
Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world.
Remembering Professor McGonagall's words, a small smile graced her lips as she looked around at the growing crowd. Taking in the wizards and witches surrounding her, Nymphadora Tonks caught sight of many she knew. Some of who she expected to be here. Some, most notably a handful from the Ministry, that she wished hadn't bothered to attend.
From her right, echoing her thoughts, Mad-Eye grumbled, "What are those slimy bastards doing here?"
As she turned to grin at her former mentor, she caught a flash of pink. Momentarily distracted from heckling the crowd with Mad-Eye; she raised a hand to finger a lock of her hair. Turning it over in her fingers, she marveled a little at the sudden return. She had almost forgotten how it looked any color than that mousy brown she had sported for the last several months. Watching it glint in the light, she couldn't help but guess how many stodgy, uptight folks she was offending by wearing hair like this to the funeral of one of the greatest wizards of their time.
How little they knew him, then.
Releasing her hair, she squeezed her other hand and was immediately satisfied by the natural resistance of the warm, solid hand it was holding.
Relief flooded through her, as she had to remind herself again that this wasn't a dream. Remus was here, next to her, with her.
She felt almost like a schoolgirl again, beyond giddy at the feeling of holding hands. She felt the calluses on his lean fingers; trying very hard not to think of the awful circumstances Remus had gone through in the last few months to get them.
A gentle squeeze answered hers, "Are you alright, 'Dora?" His voice, gentler than it had been towards her in some time, flushed her with a new wave of peace.
She paused, unsure of how to answer, "Yes." She reveled a moment over the feeling of his thumb reassuringly rubbing the back of her hand, "I don't know how; but I feel peaceful. Happy even." Voicing her feelings made them all the stronger, "Really happy." She paused, jarred back to their surroundings, and judged his reaction, "Is that wrong?"
He looked at her, thumb still drawing calming circles, "No, 'Dora. I don't think so." He looked up at the clear sky and at the gently moving trees, "It's hard. I still can't believe he's gone. It will be a dark, dangerous time to come. " He gave a little smile as she squeezed his hand again, looking too as if he couldn't believe he was really there with her, "But for today, I think Minerva was right. He wouldn't want us to mourn, he would want a little more love in the world."
He raised her hand to his lips for a quick kiss and settled back to observing the incoming arrivals.
She settled back in as well; contenting herself to listen to Mad-Eye's grumblings and Kingsley's gentle, non-committal responses to him. Taking in warm reassuring presence next to her, the gentle breeze, green of the grass and trees, and the soft lapping sounds of the lake; Tonks looked up at the sky. It was hard to believe in a moment like this a war was going on. A war that had taken a man she had looked up to since childhood and countless others.
A small sob from Molly Weasley down the row tugged on Tonk's heart as she looked at the large, white monument at the head of the aisle. It would be easy to lose oneself to despair but looking at the worn, charming, troubled, exceptional man beside her; she knew she had something to fight for again.