On Show
"The things that seem
to matter less
are the ones
we put on show."
—Lang Leav
Nymphadora Tonks was sitting in the Mess Hall when the note arrived. A wave of apprehension flooded her stomach, but it was accompanied by a smaller surge as well. This one was more potent than the unease, and much, much fresher. It was excitement, an old feeling of butterflies that she had long past forgotten.
Nymphadora,
PT room. 10 o'clock.
D.
A shudder ran through her body as her eyes danced over the words. Nymphadora. She had always hated her name and thought her mum was downright cruel for appointing it to her, but when it passed the author's lips, it was a melody. She could see the contours of his mouth in the back of her mind, hear the symphony of his tongue and lips.
She took a deep breath to compose herself, folded the letter, and promptly stashed it.
This was not for the eyes of others.
— — — — —
That night, just as the other trainees were readying themselves for bed, Nymphadora slipped out of her shared dorm with the excuse of a shower. She descended the flights of stairs swiftly and sprinted across the quad. When she pushed open the door of the gymnasium, her eyes were assaulted by light.
Apparently she wasn't the first to arrive.
Her suspicions were confirmed as her eyes met his. Her heart stuttered.
There, across the polished wood flooring, stood Darius Rollison. Tonks' eyes lingered at the styled mess of brown locks hanging in his eyes before falling to the rest of his body. His hair was in stark contrast to that of the other instructors—while the Ministry required a close crop of those within the force, Auror Rollison had simply refused. He was aware of his skill level, and knew they would do nothing that even broached on disciplinary for fear of his resigning. Thus, Darius stood out in from the others in such a way, which wasn't helped by his ethereal blue eyes and signature smirk. For Nymphadora, his staggering muscles were but a bonus.
"You're late," he joked, his officer presence still evident despite his blue jeans and t-shirt.
"Sorry." The tips of Tonks' hair flashed the required brown before returning to her off-duty bubblegum pink. Fear that he truly was angry prickled against her excitement, but she quickly dismissed it.
Darius smirked and closed the distance between them. He raised a hand to cup her chin. His face softened.
"I thought you had decided not to come."
"Why would I do that?" she breathed around the tightness in her throat.
"I wouldn't blame you," Darius murmured, his somber eyes oblivious to the disregarded question. "If we're caught, this would ruin your career."
Tonks stood to her tip-toes in order to press her lips to his.
"Then don't let us get caught."
The auror pulled back and raised a brow.
"We'd best go somewhere more private then."
— — — — —
Auror Rollison crossed the field before stopping in front of Auror-in-Training Mills.
Tonks' eyes widened as she struggled to stay in formation. The desire to rush toward him was stronger than it had ever been before.
Not here, she told herself. Not here.
"Mills," he barked. "What's the first rule of field work?"
Tonks held her breath and ignored Mills' answer. Her gaze lingered on the auror's hands.
No.
Darius moved to the next trainee before asking another question. His jawline sliced through the encroaching sunlight.
Damn, why does he have to be so attractive?
Another answer, another question.
She bit her tongue when he moved close enough for her to smell his cologne. Her senses fixated on the scent.
Another answer.
Another question.
Another answer.
"Tonks," he barked as if she were just another trainee. She jumped. "List the proper procedure for apprehending a suspect."
Nymphadora's stomach dropped. It was the one question she couldn't answer, and he knew it—he had been helping her study just the previous evening, and that had been the only question that had stumped her.
Darius' scowl was offset by his teasing eyes. In her mind, Tonks swore she hated him.
But oh, how she didn't.
— — — — —
Two months later, Tonks lay on Darius' couch, her head cradled in his lap.
"Are you sure they won't notice me in here?" she asked as she traced his shirt buttons. "It's mid-day, and I'm in my uniform. If anyone sees…"
"No one will see, love." Darius leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She smiled at the familiar gesture. "I've made sure of that."
The two continued in silence for the next few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Tonks continued to trace patterns on his shirt, studying each wrinkle and questioning the story behind it. When Darius finally spoke, his voice was hesitant.
"Nymphadora?"
Tonks' breath caught in her throat. Her favorite melody.
"Hm?" she asked.
"I love you."
The motions of her fingers ceased and fell to her stomach. She sat up slowly before meeting her trainer's eyes.
"I love you, too."
Darius smiled.
— — — — —
"Nymphadora."
The whisper pulled Tonks from her sleep as she felt a hand caress her cheek. She sighed contentedly and burrowed further into the blanket.
"Love," the voice repeated.
"Hmm?"
"You have to get back to the dorms." His prodding became more insistent. "It's after curfew."
Tonks jerked her body upward, narrowly missing Darius' forehead with her own.
"What? Why didn't you wake me sooner?" She was already across the room, pulling on her uniform shirt and shoving her feet into her boots.
"I just—" For the first time since Tonks had met him, Darius sounded insecure. She looked back to catch his gaze and waited for his explanation. "I just wanted more time."
Tonks smiled and returned to the bed, leaning to place a kiss on his lips.
"Later," she promised.
Darius swallowed before answering.
"Sure."
— — — — —
The following week came quickly, bringing with it Tonks' graduation. She found herself standing in a large conference room at the Ministry, her dress robes on and her regulation-brown locks pulled tightly back. She caught sight of a thick head of hair across the room and swiftly headed that way. When they made eye contact, she gave a small smirk before heading to an unused office next door.
The door opened not two minutes later.
"I thought you had decided not to come," she teased.
Darius' response was an unexpected crease in his brow. Tonks frowned.
"Love," she started as she crossed the room. "What is it?"
She moved to take him in her arms, but his step back knocked the wind out of her.
"We can't do this anymore."
Tonks' heart convulsed.
"W-what?"
"You're about to graduate," Darius muttered flatly, "and this is too dangerous for your career. We never should have done it in the first place."
Tonks' breath shuddered before she was able to speak.
"No." Her head was shaking rapidly, her hair falling from its bun. "No, Darius. Don't be stupid." You're more important, she added silently.
"Stop," he warned.
Tonks struggled to catch his gaze, which was firmly fixated on the tile floor. "I love you."
"No, you don't." Darius' voice was low, dangerous.
"Yes, I do!" She took another step forward and reached for his face, but Darius side-stepped her grasp.
He looked her in the eye before spitting, "Well I don't love you."
There was silence throughout the room before a half-sob escaped Tonks' throat. She took a step back and forced her eyes to the ground, her mind spinning. As she scrambled to make sense of the present situation, she was mortified to feel tears falling down her cheeks. She raised her eyes once more. Darius' face softened.
"Listen, Nymphadora—"
"Don't call me that!" she growled.
She stared at him for moment, searching his eyes, begging for their tease, their affection. After coming up empty, she turned on her heel and allowed her long strides to carry her from the room.
Tonks didn't understand, and when she looked out to the audience minutes later and saw an empty chair in the instructor's section, she tried to convince herself that she didn't care.
A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read this! I really appreciate your support :) If you have a spare minute, please leave a review or shoot me a PM with any comments or criticisms you might have! I really appreciate all of the feedback that I get :)
A/N 2: On a more official note, this was written for Round 10 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. My job, as captain of the Caerphilly Catapults, was to write about a forbidden teacher/student relationship. For judging purposes, the final word count of this story is 1,355.
