The Trials and Tribulations of Being a Goody-Goody
Disclaimer: You know the drill, but for all those newbies, let me summarize: Me own nothing. J.K. Rowling own everything. You no sue.
Chapter 1: Watch Her
Draco Malfoy stood on the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place with Dumbledore at his side as the sky behind them grew steadily black. Tentatively, he grabbed the serpent shaped door knocker, and banged it against the black door with peeling paint. Draco couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust at the state of the house.
"Coming," came a woman's voice from inside. There was the sound of footsteps, then a loud crash and quiet muttering. Draco looked up questionably at the beaming Dumbledore, wondering if it'd just be better if he ran for it. But just then the door opened to reveal a pixie-like woman with short pink hair and a huge smile.
"Good afternoon, Tonks," Dumbledore said fondly, bowing slightly at the woman. "I imagine you've been expecting us."
"Oh, is this him?" Tonks asked, looking down at Draco with fondness. It made him feel slightly like a puppy. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby," she said to Dumbledore before turning back to Draco again. "Wotcher, Drake!"
"Watch—who?" Draco asked, too puzzled to mention how he would personally see to it that her face looked like a Picasso painting if she called him 'Drake' again.
"Wotch-er," she said slowly, laughing. Looking at her like she belonged in St. Mungo's, Draco wondered how he got himself into this.
It had been the end of his seventh year that Draco decided to take control of his life. He didn't want to become a Death Eater like the rest of his damned family, but knew that he'd be forced to no matter what. So, like all troubled Hogwarts students, he went to Dumbledore.
"I came to—er—ask for your help." Draco began lamely once he had sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"I've been waiting all year for this conversation, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said with his trademark twinkling eyes.
And so he had. The man was so obsessive compulsive that he had already planned a place for Draco to stay instead of Malfoy Manor, confirmed it with the owner, and had the house elves packing his things as he spoke.
"Now, the only thing left to do is for you to agree to stay with your cousin." Dumbledore said calmly.
Completely overcome with the amount of work this man had done, Draco simply said, "What cousin?"
"Nympadora Tonks," Dumbledore said, slightly surprised when Draco just stared at him blankly. "Daughter of your aunt Andromeda—your mother's sister." More blank stares.
"You are...feeling alright, sir?" Draco asked cautiously. The man must be crazy, Draco had no cousins—and he barely even knew anything about his aunt Andromeda, just that she married a muggle and was to be talked about with distain by the Malfoy/Black family.
Suddenly, Dumbledore hit himself on the head, causing Draco to jump slightly in his seat.
"Of course you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "How would you when your family disowned Andromeda?"
"...I—I don't know, sir." Draco said quietly, so surprised by the outburst that he didn't know the question was rhetorical.
So, Draco had a cousin and—although, for all he knew she could be an axe murderer—he was going to stay with her till he could find a place for himself.
But not everything was as bad as it seemed. At least he'd be staying in a nice house because—although this Nymphadora had been disowned—she must still have some Black money.
Of course, these comforting hopes came crashing down as soon as Draco laid eyes on this 12 Grimmauld Place. And the woman inside was nothing like he expected. Not even a strand of blonde hair! No wonder she'd been disowned.
"I think tomorrow, at the meeting, we shall initiate him into the Order of the Phoenix with the rest." Dumbledore said softly to Tonks before bidding them goodnight.
Draco looked at the spot where Dumbledore had just Disapparated from. He had no idea what the hell the Order of the Phoenix was. All he knew was that phoenixes burst into flames at times, which made Draco wonder with horror if this 'initiation' involved fire. He prayed to the gods that it didn't, seeing as he'd go up in flames within seconds due to all of the flammable hair products he used.
Tonks showed Draco to his room—which was on the fourth floor of the five story house. She made sure to tell him in a whisper not to make much noise around the painting of Mrs. Black, and then promptly tripped over her own feet, sending the portrait into hysterics.
After a quarter of an hour of shouting about dirty Mudbloods and filthy halfbreeds, Mrs. Black was finally silenced when Draco and Tonks managed to get the curtains over her closed.
"Well, here's your room," Tonks said, levitating Draco's luggage across the threshold and setting it on his bed.
"Thanks, Nymphadora." Draco said offhand, feeling like he'd just called her something rude when he took a look at her face.
"It's Tonks, Drake," she said, seeming to have a hard time keeping her cool.
"And it's Draco, Tonks." Draco pointed out.
"Right," she said, smiling. "Well, see you in the morning, Draco."
Draco woke up around eleven in the afternoon, much later then usual for a Malfoy. And, although this house was as shabby as they got (save for the Weasley house, perhaps), their beds were damn comfortable. Draco lay in his for a good fifteen minutes with his eyes wide open but his body refusing to move.
Finally, after hearing a rather loud crash from downstairs—announcing that Tonks was indeed up—Draco got up, ran a brush through his infamous hair, and got dressed.
As Draco was descending the stair case to the first floor, he noticed someone that he'd never seen before by the fireplace. Her back was turned toward him, and she was bent over a laundry basket on the ground. Draco could tell from the long black hair that she was definitely not Tonks. So, like all Malfoy's who see a stranger in their house, Draco pulled out his wand and began to approach the creature slowly. Once he was within poking distance Draco—well—poked her with the tip of his wand. This was, of course, the lamest attempt of protecting himself ever, but he honestly didn't know what else to do.
The woman turned around so quickly that she stumbled over the basket she'd been tending to. After a quick recovery, she spoke.
"Wotcher, Drake! What are you doing?" She asked, going cross eyed as she tried to look at the wand pointed in between her eyes.
Draco faltered, thinking quickly. Repetitive tripping, the unnecessary mutilation of his name, and that Cockney corruption of the words 'What cheer'... it couldn't be—
"Tonks?" Draco said, quickly putting his wand away and helping his cousin up.
"Who did you expect?" she laughed.
"But you—you look—" he stuttered, staring at her violet colored eyes.
"Oh, I didn't tell you that I'm a Metamorphmagus?" she chucked. "Hm, must have slipped my mind."
"Fancy that," Draco said sarcastically, still goggling at her change of appearance. "So you can just change whenever you want?"
"Pretty cool, huh?" Tonks said, raising her jet black eyebrows.
"It's more then cool!" Draco said with a new found fascination. "That means you could've changed to look older and get alcohol when you were, like, ten!"
Tonks laughed, ruffling Draco's blonde hair, much to his annoyance, playfully saying, "you..."
"Me." Draco said in a mockingly playful voice, smiling.
"Come on," she said, still chuckling as she pushed him gently in the direction of the kitchen. "Let's get a spot of breakfast, shall we?"
Once they had both walked down into the basement where the kitchen was, Tonks immediately went to the stove, determined to make breakfast, as Draco quickly looked around.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked, throwing himself into one of the many chairs that bordered the kitchen table. "Besides you constantly changing your appearance, of course," Draco added, watching as Tonks changed her hair into a blonde bob after singeing the tips of her formally long locks on the stove.
Ignoring his second comment, she said, "Well, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are coming this afternoon, and then—"
"I'm sorry; I thought you wanted me to stay here." Draco said pointedly. "You don't need to have the Golden Trio come and evict me; I know when I'm not wanted."
"Now, Draco, I know you don't like them—"
"There's an understatement," Draco muttered.
"But that's all part of being on this side. You have to make friends; otherwise they'll never accept you." Tonks finished sternly.
"Snape never made friends, and he's perfectly accepted." Draco muttered stubbornly.
"Snape gets pummeled with spitwads and dungbombs during our meetings," she said seriously.
Draco sat sulking in his chair as Tonks struggled to make scrambled eggs. 'Being good is stupid,' he thought angrily. 'When you're a Death Eater, you can be as anti-social as you want without anyone giving it a second thought. And being all chummy with Potter is definitely discouraged... maybe I made the wrong career choice—if you can call being a goody-goody a career.'
A/N: If you want me to e-mail you when I update, just give me you e-mail address in the review and I'd be happy to do it :)
Disclaimer: You know the drill, but for all those newbies, let me summarize: Me own nothing. J.K. Rowling own everything. You no sue.
Chapter 1: Watch Her
Draco Malfoy stood on the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place with Dumbledore at his side as the sky behind them grew steadily black. Tentatively, he grabbed the serpent shaped door knocker, and banged it against the black door with peeling paint. Draco couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust at the state of the house.
"Coming," came a woman's voice from inside. There was the sound of footsteps, then a loud crash and quiet muttering. Draco looked up questionably at the beaming Dumbledore, wondering if it'd just be better if he ran for it. But just then the door opened to reveal a pixie-like woman with short pink hair and a huge smile.
"Good afternoon, Tonks," Dumbledore said fondly, bowing slightly at the woman. "I imagine you've been expecting us."
"Oh, is this him?" Tonks asked, looking down at Draco with fondness. It made him feel slightly like a puppy. "I haven't seen him since he was a baby," she said to Dumbledore before turning back to Draco again. "Wotcher, Drake!"
"Watch—who?" Draco asked, too puzzled to mention how he would personally see to it that her face looked like a Picasso painting if she called him 'Drake' again.
"Wotch-er," she said slowly, laughing. Looking at her like she belonged in St. Mungo's, Draco wondered how he got himself into this.
It had been the end of his seventh year that Draco decided to take control of his life. He didn't want to become a Death Eater like the rest of his damned family, but knew that he'd be forced to no matter what. So, like all troubled Hogwarts students, he went to Dumbledore.
"I came to—er—ask for your help." Draco began lamely once he had sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"I've been waiting all year for this conversation, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said with his trademark twinkling eyes.
And so he had. The man was so obsessive compulsive that he had already planned a place for Draco to stay instead of Malfoy Manor, confirmed it with the owner, and had the house elves packing his things as he spoke.
"Now, the only thing left to do is for you to agree to stay with your cousin." Dumbledore said calmly.
Completely overcome with the amount of work this man had done, Draco simply said, "What cousin?"
"Nympadora Tonks," Dumbledore said, slightly surprised when Draco just stared at him blankly. "Daughter of your aunt Andromeda—your mother's sister." More blank stares.
"You are...feeling alright, sir?" Draco asked cautiously. The man must be crazy, Draco had no cousins—and he barely even knew anything about his aunt Andromeda, just that she married a muggle and was to be talked about with distain by the Malfoy/Black family.
Suddenly, Dumbledore hit himself on the head, causing Draco to jump slightly in his seat.
"Of course you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "How would you when your family disowned Andromeda?"
"...I—I don't know, sir." Draco said quietly, so surprised by the outburst that he didn't know the question was rhetorical.
So, Draco had a cousin and—although, for all he knew she could be an axe murderer—he was going to stay with her till he could find a place for himself.
But not everything was as bad as it seemed. At least he'd be staying in a nice house because—although this Nymphadora had been disowned—she must still have some Black money.
Of course, these comforting hopes came crashing down as soon as Draco laid eyes on this 12 Grimmauld Place. And the woman inside was nothing like he expected. Not even a strand of blonde hair! No wonder she'd been disowned.
"I think tomorrow, at the meeting, we shall initiate him into the Order of the Phoenix with the rest." Dumbledore said softly to Tonks before bidding them goodnight.
Draco looked at the spot where Dumbledore had just Disapparated from. He had no idea what the hell the Order of the Phoenix was. All he knew was that phoenixes burst into flames at times, which made Draco wonder with horror if this 'initiation' involved fire. He prayed to the gods that it didn't, seeing as he'd go up in flames within seconds due to all of the flammable hair products he used.
Tonks showed Draco to his room—which was on the fourth floor of the five story house. She made sure to tell him in a whisper not to make much noise around the painting of Mrs. Black, and then promptly tripped over her own feet, sending the portrait into hysterics.
After a quarter of an hour of shouting about dirty Mudbloods and filthy halfbreeds, Mrs. Black was finally silenced when Draco and Tonks managed to get the curtains over her closed.
"Well, here's your room," Tonks said, levitating Draco's luggage across the threshold and setting it on his bed.
"Thanks, Nymphadora." Draco said offhand, feeling like he'd just called her something rude when he took a look at her face.
"It's Tonks, Drake," she said, seeming to have a hard time keeping her cool.
"And it's Draco, Tonks." Draco pointed out.
"Right," she said, smiling. "Well, see you in the morning, Draco."
Draco woke up around eleven in the afternoon, much later then usual for a Malfoy. And, although this house was as shabby as they got (save for the Weasley house, perhaps), their beds were damn comfortable. Draco lay in his for a good fifteen minutes with his eyes wide open but his body refusing to move.
Finally, after hearing a rather loud crash from downstairs—announcing that Tonks was indeed up—Draco got up, ran a brush through his infamous hair, and got dressed.
As Draco was descending the stair case to the first floor, he noticed someone that he'd never seen before by the fireplace. Her back was turned toward him, and she was bent over a laundry basket on the ground. Draco could tell from the long black hair that she was definitely not Tonks. So, like all Malfoy's who see a stranger in their house, Draco pulled out his wand and began to approach the creature slowly. Once he was within poking distance Draco—well—poked her with the tip of his wand. This was, of course, the lamest attempt of protecting himself ever, but he honestly didn't know what else to do.
The woman turned around so quickly that she stumbled over the basket she'd been tending to. After a quick recovery, she spoke.
"Wotcher, Drake! What are you doing?" She asked, going cross eyed as she tried to look at the wand pointed in between her eyes.
Draco faltered, thinking quickly. Repetitive tripping, the unnecessary mutilation of his name, and that Cockney corruption of the words 'What cheer'... it couldn't be—
"Tonks?" Draco said, quickly putting his wand away and helping his cousin up.
"Who did you expect?" she laughed.
"But you—you look—" he stuttered, staring at her violet colored eyes.
"Oh, I didn't tell you that I'm a Metamorphmagus?" she chucked. "Hm, must have slipped my mind."
"Fancy that," Draco said sarcastically, still goggling at her change of appearance. "So you can just change whenever you want?"
"Pretty cool, huh?" Tonks said, raising her jet black eyebrows.
"It's more then cool!" Draco said with a new found fascination. "That means you could've changed to look older and get alcohol when you were, like, ten!"
Tonks laughed, ruffling Draco's blonde hair, much to his annoyance, playfully saying, "you..."
"Me." Draco said in a mockingly playful voice, smiling.
"Come on," she said, still chuckling as she pushed him gently in the direction of the kitchen. "Let's get a spot of breakfast, shall we?"
Once they had both walked down into the basement where the kitchen was, Tonks immediately went to the stove, determined to make breakfast, as Draco quickly looked around.
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" he asked, throwing himself into one of the many chairs that bordered the kitchen table. "Besides you constantly changing your appearance, of course," Draco added, watching as Tonks changed her hair into a blonde bob after singeing the tips of her formally long locks on the stove.
Ignoring his second comment, she said, "Well, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are coming this afternoon, and then—"
"I'm sorry; I thought you wanted me to stay here." Draco said pointedly. "You don't need to have the Golden Trio come and evict me; I know when I'm not wanted."
"Now, Draco, I know you don't like them—"
"There's an understatement," Draco muttered.
"But that's all part of being on this side. You have to make friends; otherwise they'll never accept you." Tonks finished sternly.
"Snape never made friends, and he's perfectly accepted." Draco muttered stubbornly.
"Snape gets pummeled with spitwads and dungbombs during our meetings," she said seriously.
Draco sat sulking in his chair as Tonks struggled to make scrambled eggs. 'Being good is stupid,' he thought angrily. 'When you're a Death Eater, you can be as anti-social as you want without anyone giving it a second thought. And being all chummy with Potter is definitely discouraged... maybe I made the wrong career choice—if you can call being a goody-goody a career.'
A/N: If you want me to e-mail you when I update, just give me you e-mail address in the review and I'd be happy to do it :)