She twirls under the Eiffel Tower, her pink, short spiked hair going in every direction. She wore a black leather jacket over a fishnet bodysuit and leather skater mini skirt with high heeled combat boots. This must have been what her mum meant. A little freedom. A little time to be herself. A little time to rebel. A little time to be accepted.
She had been accepted to the Auror's program right out of Hogwarts. She had excelled academically and socially - well as socially as an awkward teen witch who could change her appearance on demand could. She was the entertainment at most of the parties, especially after alcohol was introduced, if that could be considered being socially acceptable.
Now, she had a path that she wanted to follow and it would begin in a few weeks. It wouldn't be the one that her mum did. Her mum ran away from her controlling family and got married and had her right away. No, she's going to be her own person. She is special and she knows it. She is going to protect those that were hurt like her mum, put those who are dark away - be her family or not. She was a light witch, even though she may dress like something very dark indeed.
Her mum did convince her to follow in the footsteps of all the Black women after school. It was something that she never did, nor did she look on that as a mistake. She had told her daughter to take a couple of weeks and go to the continent and find herself.
Which is what she did. Nymphadora Tonks was finding herself. She found that she adored Muggle punk music and its heavy beats and rebellious nature. The Ramones were one of her favorites. The art made her think; some of it was so realistic that she thought it was a photograph, while others looked like paint splattered. Some of the sculptures were like the person was standing before her, some in their birthday suit. She found that French cuisine was not to her taste, too much of everything made it all taste blah to her. She found that French wine, on the other hand, was something that she adored: the full-bodied reds, the crisp whites, and the champagne - oh the champagne with the bubbles were her favorite.
Which is what lead her to twirling around the base of the Eiffel Tower to a beat that only she heard, champagne bottle in hand, feeling free for the first time ever.
Her life wasn't one of challenge or pain, her parents loved and adored her, but somehow she wasn't herself. Her mum wanted her to be proper, like a lady. She didn't want to follow in that path. She wasn't a Black witch. She was a Tonks. She was Tonks. No longer Nymphadora, only her mum called her that horrid name now. Nope, her friends, those people that really knew her called her Tonks.
She heard a group of kids her age, probably Muggles, blasting some new music that she had never heard - it sounded American maybe - and it had a similar beat and lyrics to the punk she adored. Approaching them carefully, they may be Muggles like her father, but you could never be too sure in a foreign land, she began thrashing her head around in a true punk style.
"Non," one of the boys said in a heavy French accent. "Like dis," he began jumping up and down, throwing his body around.
She joined in, sharing her bottle of champagne.
Early the next morning as she watched the sun crest the horizon holding her empty bottle of champagne and a sheet that was wrapped tightly around her body she thought, 'I guess this is what mum meant by find yourself.'
Author's Notes
House: Slytherin
Year: Head
Word Count: 637
Prompt: [person] Nymphadora Tonks