A/N: This was written for Gamma Orionis's Rodolphus Lestrange Competition. A story about Rod in which Bellatrix is not present! And, do you know, it's hard to write characters as children? They're both out of character and in character at the same time, so… I hope I did okay with Tonks here. I imagine she'd be about five or six when this takes place.

I have never been to Thundersley. Apologies to anyone who may live there; I'm afraid I chose it rather at random. It seemed nice.

I hope you enjoy this, and, seriously, few things make me smile more than when I receive a review. I am always open to (and, in fact, adore) constructive criticism, so I'd be thrilled if you took the time to tell me what you thought. :)


Uncle Roddy

It wasn't quite Halloween and the smell of autumn hung in the air. It was bitter and sweet at the same time; apples and pumpkins and dying leaves. A chill hung over the Muggle town of Thundersley. People walking the streets wrapped their collars and scarves tight to their necks to keep it away.

A man sat alone on the steps outside a health clinic. He was wearing heavy black robes and his scarf, too, was drawn up tight to what little neck he had. The scarf was a bright acid green, at an odd contrast with his dark eyes, which were so brown they looked black. They were the same eyes his brother had (his brother whom he'd shouted at just this morning for something stupid) and they were also the same eyes his wife had (he'd shouted at her, too, probably for a less stupid reason, but all the same he felt thoroughly miserable about it). The man's name was Rodolphus Lestrange.

He was a chubby man, with reddish-brown hair and a small tuft of a beard. He was sitting looking purposefully woebegone, and wondering whether or not he should hex the passing Muggles into giant toadstools. He wasn't sure if he was waiting for someone to come and find him, or if he'd wanted to be alone. He wasn't sure if he'd chosen to come here because he was angry and wanted to indulge in a spot of schadenfreude before his family came rushing to comfort him, or because he thought no-one would expect to find him here in suburbia.

He gave a soft sigh and stared into the street. A well-dressed Muggle ascending the steps gave him an odd look, her hand drifting to her faux-leather handbag, which probably contained pepper-spray or something equally ridiculous. Rodolphus fluttered his eyelashes and gave her an innocent look. She avoided his gaze.

His cheeks were resting on his fists; his pale skin was the only part of him that was exposed. From his perch, he had a pretty good view of what was going on in the street – cars trundling slowly by, people shouting to each other from opposite ends of the road, dogs taking sneaky toilet breaks… If he'd wanted to, he could have killed them all (but he didn't; the only good part about torturing Muggles was Bella's joy and she wasn't here). He just watched them, like an oddly lumpy bird of prey, quietly nursing the thought that he could see their every movement, that they were all so unaware—

Something tugged at his sleeve and he jumped, whipping his head around. It was a little girl – just a little girl – with a cheerful round face and short fair hair. She grinned at him, revealing a big gap in her teeth, then titled her head with a giggle, shuffling nervously.

"What do you want?" grunted Rodolphus.

"To say hi," said the girl, who had a light spattering of freckles across her nose.

"Oh," said Rodolphus, annoyed at being interrupted in his brooding. "Hi," he said, and went back to it, but only for a second. He turned back to the fair-haired girl and said, entirely nonplussed, "What?"

"Hii-iii," she enunciated. "Means 'hello'. Mummy says I oughtn't to use it because it sounds awfully common… but Daddy says it all the time," she added, sounding confused.

"No, I heard what you said," said Rodolphus, who wasn't in the mood for verification, "I just don't understand why."

"Um…" The girl frowned.

"Why are you saying hi to me?" Rodolphus elaborated, rolling his eyes slightly. He knew it was the beginning of a slippery slope (the best thing to do with children, after all, was to ignore them and hope they went away), but he was curious.

"'Cause you look sad," said the girl.

"You just make a habit of saying hello to everyone who looks sad, do you?"

"Nope." She giggled, as though he were being very silly indeed. "Just you. You're a special case."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause you're my uncle."

"What?" said Rodolphus, frowning. "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not. Go away." He turned from the girl and rested his chin on his fist again.

"Yes you are," the girl insisted. "You're my Uncle Roddy."

Rodolphus stiffened, and turned very slowly to face the girl. He had never seen her before in his life. He was sure about that. He surveyed her through narrowed eyes for a moment, before asking, with much trepidation, "Who are you, please?"

The girl drew herself up proudly. "My name is Nympha—Nymma—Nimmy…" She faltered. "Nymadora—Nymph – Tonks," she finished dejectedly.

A quiet hiss escaped Rodolphus's lips. "Andromeda," he breathed.

"Yes," nodded the girl, "that's my mummy. And I know who you are because I saw you in Mummy's book of pictures. You were wearing black then too, but you looked happier, but still I can tell it was you. You were dancing with a very pretty lady dressed in white. Mummy says her name was Auntie Bella. She says she misses Auntie Bella lots. She says you and Auntie Bella are married together. Why don't you come and have tea with us one day?"

Rodolphus blinked in stunned silence. "Well?" the girl – Tonks – prodded him.

"Um, er, I, er – well – Alright—I mean, er—You'd have to ask your mother."

Tonks groaned. "But she'd tell me to ask you!"

"Why would she tell you that?" asked Rodolphus, totally bewildered.

"That's what she always says. When I ask Daddy something, he tells me to ask her… So I ask Mummy, and she tells me to ask Daddy! It's not fair."

"Ah," said Rodolphus.

"So you could just tell me now."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I'd have to ask your, um… Auntie Bella. And between you and me…" He leant in closer and Tonks followed his lead. Through the side of his mouth he said, "She's not a great lover of tea."

Tonks frowned. "Oh."

"Yes," said Rodolphus, having the grace to sound regretful, but in all honesty, although he would not have minded tea with his sister-in-law, her husband was another matter. Bloody hell, he thought fiercely, how were you supposed to break it to a child that their father was a Mudblood? Besides that, he was fairly sure if he even thought about suggesting the idea in Bella's presence, he'd have his head cut off and stuck on a plaque beside her family's house-elves.

"Well," said Tonks, having considered it for a moment, "I suppose you could come on your own, Uncle Roddy."

"Why do you call me that?" asked Rodolphus, unwilling to commit to tea, and deflecting in what he hoped was a manner too subtle for a child to pick up on. "Why 'Roddy'?"

A pink tinge crept into Tonks's cheeks. "Well…" she said, "you had a really long name. And I can't say big words. Like my name. It's Nim—Nim—"

"Nymphadora," Rodolphus supplied.

"Yes!" Tonks beamed. Then her face darkened. "I hate it. But, anyway. I was calling you the same name as Father Christmas calls his reindeer, but Mummy says that's not right and I should call you Roddy instead." Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at him in confusion. "But it is right, isn't it?"

"Rudolph," Rodolphus muttered to himself.

"That's it," said Tonks cheerfully.

"No, that's not right," said Rodolphus.

"It's not?" Tonks's face dropped.

"It's Rodolphus," said Rodolphus. "R – O – D – O – L – P – H – U – S."

"Rudolves."

"No."

"Rodolphs."

"No."

"Randalf."

"No."

"Roddoff?"

"Roddy is fine," sighed Rodolphus.

"Great!" said Tonks, plopping down on the step beside him, and promptly tumbling off, landing with a thump. Rodolphus made in involuntary screeching sound, and dived after her, plucking her off the ground. She squirmed as he held her in front of him, his hands tucked under her arms, giggling a little. "You have very big hands," she said, looking at them in wonder.

"Are you all right?" asked Rodolphus, who was terrified, and sure she must have cracked her head open.

"Yes," she nodded. When Rodolphus didn't look convinced, she added. "I fall off things all the time. Mummy says I get it from Daddy's side of the family."

"Probably," Rodolphus agreed in relief, setting Tonks down beside him.

"Uncle Roddy?" she said.

"Mm?"

"Will you come for tea with me and Mummy and Daddy?"

"I thought we discussed that already."

"We did, but you didn't give me an answer."

"Didn't I? Well, I'll tell you what." He tapped her gently on the nose. "I will come for tea with you and your mummy if your mummy writes to Auntie Bella and asks if it's okay."

"Why does she need to ask if it's okay?"

"Because I don't know if your Auntie Bella would allow me to go."

"Does she not let you do things?"

"Not always."

"Oh. Sometimes my mummy doesn't let me do things either. So d'you know what I do?"

"What do you do?"

Tonks shuffled closer to him and whispered in his ear. "I do it anyway!" Then she hopped backwards, giggling, her hand over her mouth. "But don't tell anyone."

"Oh, I won't," said Rodolphus. He couldn't help the corner of his mouth curling into a smile.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"What?"

Tonks held out her tiny hand, her little finger extended. Rodolphus looked at it, frowning. "You have to give me yours," said Tonks, with a big sigh, as though she were talking to an exceptionally slow person. Hesitantly, Rodolphus extended his finger. "Now, we hold hands like this…" She took his finger and wrapped hers around it, as far as it could go, for her hand was barely a fraction the size of his. "And you promise."

"I promise."

"Good. And you can't break that promise, Roddy, or I get to chop your finger off."

Rodolphus raised his eyebrows. "Surely you wouldn't do that?"

"Well…" Tonks looked as though she was considering it. "Maybe not. But you still shouldn't break a promise once you've made it. I like your hair," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"It's a pretty colour. Like a fox. Or a sinny-man."

"Cinnamon."

"Yes. That's what I said."

Rodolphus nodded, and looked back to the street. Nothing much had changed. Muggles were still doing their day-to-day activities, paying no attention to their conversation. He heard a shuffling, and then felt Tonks tugging on a tuft of hair just behind his ear. "Hey." He swatted her away, glancing at her in annoyance. Then he did a double-take.

For spreading across the little girl's head, indeed, as though some invisible hand were sprinkling cinnamon onto her, was a bizarre change of colour. Her hair was darkening and lengthening, and in a moment Rodolphus found himself staring at a miniature replica of his own hairstyle.

"Now, how are you doing that?" he murmured, reaching out to touch the hair; he wasn't entirely convinced that what he was seeing was real. Tonks giggled again, and bowed her head, allowing Rodolphus to see it.

Then the door of the health clinic swung open with a bang and a voice bellowed, "GET AWAY FROM HER!" Footsteps pounded across the ground and Rodolphus hastily struggled to his feet, finding himself face to face with a big, blond man, who scooped Tonks into his arms and looked about ready to punch Rodolphus. Rodolphus took a couple of steps backwards.

Ted Tonks stared at him for a moment, glowering. "Lestrange," he growled.

"Tonks." Rodolphus nodded in acknowledgement.

"You stay away from my daughter," said Ted Tonks in a low, angry voice.

"Perhaps you ought to tell your daughter to stay away from me."

At this, the daughter looked to her father with confusion in her eyes. "But, Daddy, this is Uncle Roddy! I asked him to come to tea with us."

"What?" A look of confusion danced across Ted Tonks's face. Rodolphus sneered.

"You better keep a closer eye on your little girl, Tonks. Her Uncle Roddy's not going to hurt her, but you never know when a really bad, Dark wizard could be out lurking in the streets."

Little Tonks looked startled. "Bad wizards?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Rodolphus assured her, his lips curling.

"Leave. Us. Alone," said Ted Tonks through clenched teeth.

"Nothing would give me greater satisfaction," said Rodolphus. "I hope never to have to converse with you as long as I live. But your little girl's a different matter. Please do watch her more carefully. It would be a dreadful shame if something were to happen to her." Ted Tonks made a strangled sort of growling noise. Rodolphus cocked an eyebrow. "And tell your wife to stop calling me 'Roddy'."

"You leave my wife out of this!"

"Out of what?" Rodolphus asked calmly. "I'm leaving now." He held his hands up, then turned and walked away, tucking them into his pockets.

"Bye, Uncle Roddy!" said the little girl.

Moments later he heard Ted Tonks call out – "Yeah, see you, Roddy!" – and he smirked, but he didn't look over his shoulder. He chuckled to himself, his breath hovering in puffs in the still-chilly air.

Children, he reasoned to himself, were not as bad as they were made out to be. In fact, judging by the one he'd just met, they were – dare he think it? – positively delightful. He chewed on his lip. He would have to speak to Bella about this. Whatever he'd been angry with her over this morning had vanished from his mind. Was it something to do with… services to the Dark Lord? He couldn't even remember. All he knew was that he didn't want to fight any more.

Humming, he turned into the nearest Muggle florist and bought a large bouquet of flowers, not even thinking about hexing the cashier. And (rather optimistically) he also stopped to purchase a tiny little bodysuit. He could not wait to propose his idea to Bella.