Pacificare Cum Nece
Prologue: Veteris Memoriae Recordatio
Author's Note: For the most part, this story will follow canon principles; however, where appropriate or no canon details are given, the plot-line will be going on a different path. There may also be slight alterations in minor canon principles later on in the work.
Disclaimer: Clearly, it is the brilliant J.K. Rowling, and not myself, who owns Harry Potter.
The moment Charlie Weasley had yet again placed his firm grasp on my hand, the pain began to flood back into my veins instantaneously. As the other Order of the Phoenix members watched our encounter from the sidelines, many holding the false belief that this was the first time we had ever been in contact, our two sets of eyes stubbornly refused to meet. I stared blankly at his feet, the old dragon-hide shoes he wore battered and muddy, wondering whether or not he felt as awkward and overcome as I did. Then again, I was well aware of the fact that we knew each other all too well to hide our feelings; he wished for this moment to end just as much as I. Furthermore, I caught a suppressed, fairly nervous chuckle, knowing very well that he had noticed my shoulder-length bubblegum pink hair.
He placed his hand on my shoulder to lean closer to my ear. "Some things never change, do they, m'dear?" he muttered, finally meeting my gaze.
A white-hot pain seemed to sear through my fingertips at this endearment, and my gaze once again lingered on his boots. We had avoided one another since graduation, a feat only known by our most immediate family members, and even some of them did not know the reasoning behind our feeble lies of the lack of knowledge we had for one another. Aside from the eldest of the Weasley brothers, not a soul within Number Twelve Grimmauld Place knew how we had lost the life of our dearest friend and nearly our own in the process. "Some things, m'lord," I shuddered at the memories attached to this, "change far too much when never they should have been…parted from."
"Nymphadora Tonks!" a woman's voice shrieked after me as I ran toward Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters on the breezy autumn day. It had finally come, September the first of my eleventh year of life, and I was headed for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, barely able to contain my excitement. "Nymphadora!"
I turned just as the witch with flowing coffee-colored hair caught up to me. "Mother, must you call me by that dreadful name?" I queried with an air of impatience, folding my arms across my chest. As I began tapping my foot against the concrete before the wall, I became conscious of my hair turning the slightest shade of vermillion.
"It is your given name, Nymphadora, and I shall use it as I please," she said coolly, shaking her head at the result of my temper. "You really must do something about your hair if you wish to taken seriously at Hogwarts."
"Of course, Mum," I mumbled, scrunching up my nose to produce an acceptable hair color of mousy brown. "Now, I am just like a normal child," I said, attempting to curtsy but succeeding only in falling to my knees. Good-natured laughter erupted from behind the trolley on which my trunk and owl rested, and I smiled, getting to my feet. "You won't find it quite so humorous when I write home to tell you that I tripped over my own feet at the Sorting and they placed me in the Pack-Up-Your-Things-You-Don't-Belong-Here House!"
"Now, Dora," my father said in a half-warning, half-amused tone, "that would never happen to you." After pondering a moment, he added, "Besides, no such house exists, so they would be forced to keep you."
"Dad!" I shrieked, feigning being offended. He let out another jovial laugh, and I ran forward to hug him. "I love you," I murmured into his thick wool coat.
"Is this goodbye already then?" he said in a voice of mock surprise. "You don't want us to take you through to the train?" I shook my head, and he chuckled. "Well, you're mighty old enough, so I'll just tell you right here: don't you dare go getting yourself into too much trouble. I would advise not showing off your special abilities on the first few days if you can help it. You know, just so you can get settled in before people start asking for your autograph."
I rolled my eyes in a humored way as I stepped away from him to give out my last hug. "Well, Mum," I said thoughtfully, "I suppose you'll have much more free time now that I won't be around to make a mess."
A smile met her lips as she bent down and wrapped her arms around me. "I'm sure you'll find a way to manage causing enough mischief to keep me busy, even if you are all the way at Hogwarts."
I returned her smile. "Probably," I reassured her. "I'm sure you'll get owls-a-plenty within a few weeks."
"Bearing good news, I hope?" she inquired with one eyebrow arched.
"Of course," I laughed, my tone a bit sinister. "I'll see you both for the Holidays!" I took my trolley from my father, and with only one look back, I pushed it forward, dirty red bricks disappearing around me as I emerged on the other side of Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.
The first thing that met my eyes on this side was not the train itself but rather a fury of red dots running in every which direction. Upon focusing, I realized that these were not just dots but people with brilliant masses of red hair. Before me stood the two parents, facing in the direction of the train, a boy older than myself by their side. A younger boy, who couldn't be much older than I, had taken to watching his other siblings as they mulled about the bustling train station. The next oldest boy sat propped against a pillar, a large volume titled The Ministry of Magic: What Future Employees Should Expect clutched tightly in his hands. Two twin boys were scuffling around, tying together the shoelaces of an even younger brother who appeared to be napping on a thin blanket nearby. As the mother of the children turned toward me, I realized that she was holding a drowsy toddler in her arms.
"Hello, dear!" she exclaimed, motioning for me to advance toward her. "Is this your first year going to Hogwarts?" I nodded, suddenly feeling all my preteen confidence fading as I realized that I would soon be farther away from home than ever I had been. My apprehension must have shown on my face, for the woman spoke up once again, "Don't worry; this is Charlie's first year, too." The boy who had been keeping an eye on his siblings waved at me; I smiled in return as his mother continued, "Bill here has already been to the school. He's in Gryffindor, just as we all imagined." She positively beamed at this statement, while the eldest of the siblings simply blushed. "Which house are you hoping to be Sorted into, dear?"
"Well, my dad was a Hufflepuff, so I don't suppose that would be too bad. I'd dread being put into Slytherin like my mum, though," I admitted, hardly aware of what I was saying.
"Your mum was a Slytherin?" the boy named Bill asked, and I noticed that his hair was not cut nearly as short as the rest of his siblings. I nodded again.
"There's nothing wrong with being a Slytherin," Charlie spoke up, seeming a bit uncomfortable at the fact that his brother was making a big deal out of it.
"I never said there was," Bill murmured, brushing his hair from his face, an action that seemed to thoroughly annoy his mother.
"I don't know how you managed to grow your hair back overnight, but mark my words, had I not been too busy getting you all ready this morning, you would have gotten another haircut, William," she muttered, now attending to the young girl who had just awoken. "You all should run along now; you wouldn't want to miss the train," she reminded them as the girl whined until taken into her father's arms.
"That's Ginny," Charlie said as we pushed our trolleys toward the train. "The others are Percy, Fred, George, and Ron," he explained as we began to move down the aisles looking for seats, Bill having left us long ago to sit with his own friends. "Say, what's your name? You haven't said yet," he mused as we neared the back of the train.
"Tonks," I answered, hoping for once someone would not recognize the surname and make an inquiry into that horrendous name my mother had given me.
"That's nice," he said as we pushed our luggage into the backmost compartment where a girl was attending to her own items. "A bit unusual, but there's nothing wrong with that," he said, bending down to pick up his trunk. "If you'd like, I can put your things away for you while you sit down."
"Thanks!" I beamed, as I took a seat, watching him hoist our trunks into the luggage rack. I had realized that we were the same height at first glance, but I hadn't previously noticed how muscular he was until he sat down next to me, glancing across at the girl who shared our compartment. She was a good two or three inches taller than I, and jet black ringlets framed her soft face.
"I'm Charlie Weasley," he informed her, holding out his hand, "and this is Tonks."
She shook it and said in a quiet voice, "Emylene Volucris. It's a pleasure to meet you both." She glanced at me, and I noticed that her eyes were a piercing yellow color, much too golden and glowing to be natural. "Your surname is Tonks, yes?"
"Yes," I replied timidly, "but my first is far too dreadful to speak."
She and Charlie both smiled, clearly not believing what I had told them. "It can't be that bad, Tonks," he mused, "but if you don't want to tell us, we won't force it out of you."
I breathed a sigh of relief and rested back in my seat, thankful that I wouldn't have to have my name laughed at quite yet. A few minutes of awkward silence were broken by Charlie's voice. "I sure hope I'm in Gryffindor. The whole lot of my family's been there, and I can't be the one to disappoint my parents – not when there are all those others to do it instead." Upon the quizzical glance he received from Emylene, he elaborated, "I'm second of seven children. Five brothers, one sister."
"Wow," she muttered. "I only have two brothers. The oldest doesn't live with us anymore, though. It gets pretty lonely."
"Try being an only child," I said. "Not only is it lonely, but you're also the only one to hold up the family name by being placed in a certain house."
"That's true," they both muttered in unison. "My brother was in Gryffindor," Emylene added thoughtfully. "I don't think that's where I'll go, though."
"Why not?" Charlie spoke up, clearly confused. "How can you already have it ruled out?"
"Eh, it's just a hunch," she replied. "My brother is the bravest person I've ever known, and I don't think I'm anything like him…I'm just not Gryffindor material."
"You're brave enough to admit that, so you could very well land in Gryffindor," I assured her. "There are all sorts of different kinds of bravery, you know."
"You're right!" she exclaimed, and I could have sworn her eyes became even brighter.
Charlie clearly noticed that as well, for her uttered in pure shock, "Do your eyes glow? They're such an odd color."
"Yes, they are quite odd," she said nonchalantly. "There's something odd about all my family. Animus, the youngest, has an uncanny way of remembering spells, and my brother R—" She paused for the slightest of seconds, as if deciding against something, before continuing, "My half-brother had an…accident…when he was younger."
I opened my mouth to tell her that there was nothing wrong with being unusual, that I, in fact, had strange abilities, but my dad's words replayed in my mind, and I once again sealed my lips. This went unnoticed, however, when Charlie peered out the window and announced, "We're nearly there, so we should probably change into our robes now." I stared out at the darkness of surrounding trees we had been thrust into, half-wondering if it were some type of bad omen of impending danger.
Charlie's hand clutched tighter around my shoulder, and I could tell that he had just experienced that same pang of sorrow that had just swept over me. Our eyes met again, matching tears secretly withheld from the others. Sniffling, I looked down once more, feeling cold and desolate from all the memories swelling inside me.
After successfully managing to trip getting into the boat to cross the lake, I found myself being ushered into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts with Emylene and Charlie, whom I had barely had time to thank for catching me when I fell. An older witch momentarily stopped our party of first-years from trekking into the Great Hall beyond. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she stated bluntly as she led us through the double doors into the Hall, where we were met by an odd eruption of cheers.
"That's Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor House," Charlie whispered in my ear as the woman with hair matching Emylene's stopped us before a chair bearing a battered old hat. "Over there," he continued, gesturing toward a table in the distance, "are the other teachers." I scanned the table, my eyes resting on the man in the middle, whose long silvery hair rested between his back and the throne-like chair on which he was seated. "Professor Dumbledore," my new friend explained. "He's the Headmaster." To the man's right, there was an empty seat, beyond which the burly gamekeeper who had led us first-years across the lake was taking a seat. "And that," Charlie interrupted my thoughts by discreetly pointing to a man with greasy black hair and a pointed nose, "is Professor Snape, the Potions Master." I squinted my eyes to get a better look at him. Something seemed oddly familiar about him, but I couldn't quite place it. "He's the new Head of Slytherin House."
It was as if a light bulb had suddenly gone off in my head as I remembered a conversation my parents had had with me earlier this summer.
"The new Head of Slytherin House," my dad had informed me as we sat around the dinner table months prior to my arrival at Hogwarts, "was appointed shortly after your mum's cousin Sirius was taken to Azkaban."
I listened intently, for it was rare that we ever spoke of Sirius, who had been imprisoned three years ago, although I wasn't certain why. However, it was not my dad who continued the conversation, but my mum had given a simple warning, "He wasn't exactly what you would call a friend of Sirius's, so I would be extra careful around him." She handed me a tattered old newspaper with the headline, "Severus Snape Appointed Potions Master, New Slytherin Head at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." His photograph made me instantly cringe, sending shivers down my spine. No, this was certainly not the type of person to be friends with our Sirius, I thought.
"Yes, I believe he went to school with my mum's cousin," I muttered, now realizing that the Sorting had already begun. Currently, a blond-haired boy whose name I did not catch was perched on the chair, awaiting his fate. In only twenty seconds, the Hat had proudly declared, "Ravenclaw!" Cheers erupted from the aforementioned table, followed by jeers from the Slytherins. I noticed the smug look on Professor Snape's face when it was concluded that this boy would not be his student.
"Cycnus, Praeveleo," Professor McGonagall read from the scroll as a brunette boy approached the stool. I sighed – they were only on the C's – this would take quite awhile. My classmate was almost instantaneously placed in Hufflepuff, the house which I so much desired. The Head of Slytherin scoffed slightly as yet another student was found to be not fit for his house.
"If I get put in Slytherin, I don't think I'll be able to stand Snape," Charlie muttered from behind me. "He seems like a bloody character." I couldn't help but agree.
"Exaudio, Neleus," the Head of Gryffindor announced, summoning forth a boy with a mass of dark hair and deep chocolate eyes. He walked toward the Sorting Hat in a presumptuous manner, and I noticed Professor McGonagall roll her eyes slightly. "SLYTHERIN!" the Hat bellowed before it had even been placed fully on the boy's head. A smirk met the lips of Professor Snape at the announcement of his first new charge.
"Habilis, Andrea," was called, and the Hat took a few minutes to decide that the blonde would be placed into Hufflepuff. "Incendium, Lucia," a girl with flowing red hair, was placed into Ravenclaw, leaving over half of the first-years to remain unsorted.
Professor McGonagall glanced down at her list and called, "Laurifer, Mellina," and the Sorting Hat dictated that the brunette be placed in Gryffindor. I noticed Charlie become more anxious at this announcement.
"I hope I make it into Gryffindor," he mumbled, half to me and Emylene, half to himself. "Mum and Dad will be so disappointed in me if I don't."
We girls rolled our eyes at this statement, knowing that he wasn't as concerned about disappointing his parents as he was not being in the same house as the Laurifer girl. As Emylene and I laughed to ourselves, the Sorting continued with, "Leuctra, Kara," making the timid-looking blonde the newest Slytherin. The three of us shared a look of surprise with the girl's new Head of House.
"I wonder why they placed her in Slytherin," chorused throughout the hall, much to the first-year Slytherin's displeasure.
Clearing her throat, the Transfiguration Professor continued, "Metior, Bartholomew," and the blond boy was ushered off to the Gryffindor table, met by a groan from Charlie. A first-year with her raven hair pulled back in a ponytail, "Minya, Leysi," soon scampered off to the Ravenclaw table.
"That's three for Ravenclaw and two apiece for the rest of the Houses," Charlie murmured, much to himself.
"No, that's not right," Emylene interjected. "There have been more students, haven't there? You must have missed some."
"Well, they must not have been anyone too important, considering I hadn't noticed," the boy replied, and I subconsciously rolled my eyes.
"It's just like a first-year boy to think that just because they didn't notice someone means that they aren't important," she scoffed. "Anyway, now we've certainly missed several of the other students being placed thanks to your lovely declaration."
I noticed that Emylene was certainly right: no less than six students had been scattered amongst the crowd below the stage by the time we had again begun to pay attention. We had stopped whispering amongst ourselves in time to watch "Placide, Elena," being Sorted into Charlie's much-loved Gryffindor House; Professor Snape nodded accordingly, and I realized that I highly agreed with Charlie's sentiments regarding the instructor: if I were to be placed in Slytherin, I might just have to live up to my promise not to get into too much trouble. Ironically, the next boy, "Qualislibet, Zephyrus" became the newest member of the old House of Salazar.
At that moment, I realized that there were only five first-years left to be Sorted. A dark-skinned boy with bright eyes was the first of us to step forward to the announcement that "Solyma, Rivalis" would be a Ravenclaw. "Succino, Norman" was placed into Hufflepuff before I found Professor McGonagall's eyes on me.
"Tonks, Nymphadora," she bellowed, and I felt as if her voice had risen twenty decibels so that the school in its entirety could hear how repulsive my name was. Biting the corner of my lip, I stepped forward to have the Hat slipped onto my hair that I hoped had not just changed color. Seeing as there were no shocked faces or screams, I was still a brunette.
"They could just be too shocked by your name to say anything," a voice sounded in my head. Although the Hat had been shrieking out Houses all evening, it had never occurred to me that it would actually speak when placed on my head. It continued, "If my parents had given me such a name, I probably would have disowned them."
"My parents, or rather, my mum may have been foolish in naming me Nymphadora, but I would never do such a thing to her," I spat. "She's my family after all!"
"Ah, extreme loyalty, I see. HUFFLEPUFF!" the dratted talking-Hat screamed suddenly, causing me to rush to cover my ears. Never before had I also realized that it would be so loud when announcing my fate. Wait,Hufflepuff! I nearly squealed with excitement as I rushed over to the table with my classmates; I was going to be in the same House as my father!
After a high-five from Andrea Habilis, I turned my attention back to the front where Professor McGonagall had just summoned forth Emylene. Quiet chatter began in the Hall after she had been sitting up there for several minutes. Upon glancing at her face, it was clear that she was having some sort of argument with the Hat. Her lips moved rapidly, but her efforts apparently worked to no avail as "SLYTHERIN!" resounded throughout the Great Hall. A shattered glass could be heard from behind, and I turned to see the Headmaster repairing Professor Snape's goblet. One look at Emylene suggested that she was fighting back tears as she slowly approached her designated table and found a seat next to Zephyrus Qualislibet and one of Slytherin's Prefects.
"Weasley, Charlie," brought everyone's attention back up front, where the last of the first-years was to be Sorted. Charlie's lips moved at a lightning-fast speed as if he, too, were striking up an argument with the Hat. "I don't care if the rest of my family were in Gryffindor, just put me in Slytherin," I could have sworn he said. "They're going to kill her." With an exasperated sigh, he added, "No, don't you dare take that as me being courageous, you bloody hat!"
"GRYFFINDOR!" was heard throughout the Hall, and Charlie grudgingly took his place next to Mellina Laurifer and Bill. We all finished our dinner half-heartedly, disappointed that none of us would be in the same House and feeling deeply sorry that Emylene would be the unfortunate one to have Severus Snape as her Head of House.
The Great Hall was beginning to empty around me, but I didn't care about being left behind. I was purely determined to speak with Charlie and Emylene before we had to go our separate ways to our common rooms. I leaned against the wall, watching the students of Slytherin pass, but I could not spot the dark-haired girl or her glowing eyes anywhere. "Nymphadora, is it?" a cold drawl sounded from behind me. I turned around and bit my lip.
"Professor Snape," I grumbled, still looking around for the Slytherin girl or Gryffindor boy.
"I just wanted to mention that I expect you to be much better behaved than some of your other relatives. Is that clear?" I nodded, realizing he meant Sirius, as the corner of my eye caught my two friends approaching in the mass of students. He turned to leave but then added, "You would also do well to change your hair from that ghastly shade of blue; it isn't highly flattering."
He stalked away behind his Slytherins as I frantically reached for a lock of my hair. Sure enough, it had previously turned a royal shade of blue. I sighed and scrunched up my nose to produce my natural mousy color just as Charlie reached for my arm. "You didn't tell us you were a Metamorphmagus!" he exclaimed.
"It never really came up," I said, shrugging as we began to walk out of the Great Hall.
"You didn't tell us your name was Nymphadora, either," Emylene added thoughtfully, clearly in a better mood than that which she had been in throughout the duration of our first dinner at Hogwarts. "That certainly did come up."
"That's a dreadful name, and I don't want to catch either of you calling me that, or I'll—" I could already tell that my hair had turned tomato-red as they erupted out in laughter. I shook my head, not bothering with my hair this time.
"Fine, you'll be Tonks," Charlie declared as we strode through the corridors hand-in-hand. "Just Tonks."
"Yes, Charlie Weasley," Alastor Moody's voice brought me back into the present, where my schoolmate's hand still rested on my shoulder and I glanced down at the worn boots, "this is Miss Nymphadora Tonks." As we broke apart and started to go our separate ways, I heard my mentor whisper, "I wouldn't ever call her that, though. A bit touchy, that one."
As I followed Kingsley into the hall, I distinctly heard Charlie mutter, "Believe me, I know."