Disclaimer; Of course I'm not JK, thus I do not own any of this.
The Moody quote at the end is Roosevelt.
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As soon as I'd stepped foot inside Grimmauld Place today, I knew it was a mistake.
Molly was rallying everyone around to clean, and as anyone knows, I don't clean. I cause mess and disaster. Therefore, putting me in a place where you are supposed to make things better is a terrible, terrible fault.
It took Molly all of half an hour to figure this out after I caused an avalanche of elf heads while 'dusting'. To be frank, they are repulsive. Not to mention when a light went off in the corridor I could have sworn their eyes moved.
And that sigh came out of Molly's mouth which I have heard my mother make a thousand times. Over the years I've become accustomed to the noise of disappointment, frustration, and just a hint of amusement twinned with an I-should-have-known-better-when-it-comes-to-you look.
My pathetic, well practiced, apologies got waved away with a lazy hand as she inspected the damage. The staircase was now a sea of heads.
Great.
I have no idea why I'm such a clutz. Seriously, I can walk along a flat surface which is exactly horizontal, and I will fall flat on my face. My mother took me to ballet school when I was little to see if I could learn elegance. It took me ten minutes to pull down the practice bars and trap four small six year olds under them. Needless to say, I wasn't welcome back.
As I grew older, I learned to accept my unique way of seeing the carpet up-close as payment for being able to morph. Now that I wouldn't change for the world. If it wasn't for morphing, I wouldn't have passed my Auror exams, I wouldn't be an asset to the Order.
And because I morph so much for duty and for others amusement, I appreciate my own, natural image. Unlike most girls, I like my imperfect nose. Unlike most women, I will enjoy aging and seeing wrinkles appear. The only thing I keep permanently morphed is my hair. Everyone has that one teeny bit of themselves that they hate. And mine is my hair. It's the first thing I notice about a person, and so I always want people to see me how I want to be seen.
And I can justify keeping my hair morphed to those who argue (like my mother) because even muggles dye their hair, don't they? So why can't I?
And this argument normally makes my mother start up what I like to call the 'reasons why you'll never get a husband' speech. Now don't get me wrong, I love my mother. I just wish sometimes she wasn't such a moaner!
"What did you knock over this time Tonks?" Sirius voice drifted up from the lounge where he was battling against some sort of Doxy infestation.
"Shut up Sirius!" I groaned as his head suddenly appeared at the door at the foot of the stairs.
He whistled lowly, "Don't let Kreacher get a sight of that. He'll poison you on purpose this time!" I winced; I would never, ever accept food from that annoying creature again, no matter what Hermione says. We both spent the night in the bathroom after accepting some tea from him. The little monster literally cackled outside the door all night.
"You know Molly, I thought you were trying to make this house better for us, not worse. Although I do love how you treat my house with the same respect I give it cousin."
The black haired mess ducked as an old elf head came flying towards him and hit the door instead. Damn my rubbish aim!
"Sirius, do be quiet." Molly sighed.
"I'm just saying," said the annoying voice from behind the door, "she is an Auror now. So surely she can tackle some of the more grown up monstrosities my family have hidden around the place? Rather than dusting disgusting shrivelled old-"
"Thank you Sirius!" The red haired woman banged on the door loudly in frustration.
And that is the pain and the pleasure of being around Sirius Black. He may be a git at most moments, but he nearly always voices exactly what I am thinking. And I have been thinking that for the past half an hour. For Merlin's sake, I am a dark wizard catcher! I'm more than capable of taking care of some dark objects lying around the house. Was I, or was I not, recommended by Mad-Eye himself?!
I told Molly this, although I left out the bit about Sirius being right because he would get a swollen head and then he wouldn't be able to fit through the kitchen door.
So to stop me arguing, Molly sent me into the drawing room.
I felt like an out of place spy. This is, or was, a home, so surely nothing too bad would be lurking in here? And by nothing bad, I mean basilisks or any other sort of giant insect.
As that thought crossed my mind, a large spider ran across the corridor and I bit my lip to stop the girlish scream escaping.
Bloody Hell, since when was I such a pansy! Get a grip Tonks.
On first glance, the room was just as dark and dingy as any of the others. I swished my wand to open the curtains, and surveyed the room in the cold light of the morning. I noted with regret that it was defiantly far too early for me to be up on a day off.
There were four main furnishings in the room; a rather posh desk, a long settee, a stuffed bookcase, and an old wardrobe.
The desk was covered in a thick layer of dust, but it was free of clutter, and the only things in the drawers were pieces of blank parchment. I made a mental note to scan them later, just in case. Well, I'm not Moody's protégé for nothing.
The sofa looked harmless, but something was wrong. It's creamy brown colouring looked a little out of place in the greying tones of the room. I chose a book at random from the bookcase (which was stacked up with subjects varying from the biography of Slytherin to Fifty Different Ways to Protect Your House from Muggles). The old hardback was heavy, and I chucked it at the leather sofa.
I held my breath. There was only one reason why dust had not settled on the piece of furniture. The book slowly sank into the cushions, and then it disappeared from view altogether.
Smiling smugly at my suspicions being correct, I fired a well aimed scourgify and watched the sofa sag. Mitzees sound harmless, they look harmless, and they are easy to remove. I had a rather unfortunate incident in my training however, when I got sucked into a wardrobe by a swarm of them. The tiny creatures live in inanimate objects of deserted places, living off dust and decay. Apparently though, they like a good book.
I snorted at my own pathetic joke, and turned to face the wardrobe. After a good minute of staring at it, I decided to open the door.
It was dark and empty. Nothing was in there, nothing at all.
I sighed, that was pointless and disappointing. Just some blank parchment and a swarm of Mitzees. So much for the terrifying House of Black.
"Tonks?"
I started, and spun around, wand raised.
Remus was standing by the desk, and I lowered my wand instantly.
The thudding of my heart from panic and adrenaline did not decline however, and my stomach did small flips when he smiled warily at me.
It had only been a few weeks, but I was developing an awful school girl crush on the ex professor.
I shook myself mentally. Ew, that sounded really wrong.
Rewind. I was developing a perfectly ordinary crush on a very likable man. And I was enjoying my crush from a distance… for now.
Because already when I saw him I wanted to know why he was smiling. I wanted to know what made him laugh. We were partners, fighting in the Order on missions, but I wanted to be more that the colleague he had fun with.
I was beginning to want to be friends.
So sometimes after my duty at the Ministry, I would come straight here and write my report with him (because that man was always awake, or so it seemed) rather than wait till the morning and owl Moody. And then he would offer me a drink, and I would stay for a few hours. We would laugh and joke and relate snippets of our life to each other. I was beginning to get to know him, but I realised he was always holding back from me.
And what worried me is that he had picked up on my teeny crush and was trying to not give me the wrong impression.
And no, I didn't come up with that reason by myself.
I talked to Sirius. Well, more like Sirius talked to me… or at me. And I just sat with my cup of tea, sipping and nodding my head and trying not to let my disappointment show on my face or anywhere else from a traitorous morph.
And I knew it was stupid, because it really had been only about two or three weeks. I shouldn't expect anything.
But it didn't stop little thoughts entering my head as we exchanged smiles and glances during meetings. Last week, he had nudged my leg under the table and inclined his head toward a snoozing Dung. Since then, my mind has spent too much time thinking about the mischievous glint in his eye, and the twitch of amused lips when I stomped on Dung's foot, sending him shooting up out of his seat and shouting, "T'weren't me! Swear it!"
It didn't stop me thinking about how I could glimpse the same mischievous look at the next meeting.
"Wotcher Remus." I smiled lightly at him.
"Tonks, I think we need to talk." His expression turned grave, and my stomach felt like someone had stomped on it.
Sirius had tipped him off. I was going to kill that man!! No, I would turn him back over to the Dementors. Or I would trick him out into the open, lure some trigger happy young Aurors…
No. from now on, he would only eat from a dog bowl.
I snapped out of my plotting to look innocently at Remus. "Sure, what's up?"
"Shall we sit down?" He gestured to the sofa, but I shook my head.
"Mitzees."
His forehead creased in confusion. "Miii-t-Ze?"
Don't tell me I knew more about Defence against the Dark Household Pests than the Professor?!
"Yeah." I didn't elaborate. He could be in awe of my knowledge.
He didn't seem distracted however. "Okay, well look Tonks. The thing is that I know how you feel about me and I would appreciate it if you didn't make it so obvious."
I stared at him, shocked. Woa, way to make it sting. He didn't even pause for breath to shatter my hopes.
He didn't stop there though. "It's pathetic really. You need to get a grip. We're fighting a war here. There isn't time for romance." He spoke the word with such disgust.
Remus took a step towards me, and I felt angry tears spike my eyes. "Tonks. You need to understand," His soft features took on an out of place smirk. It looked twisted and wrong on his face. "Even if there wasn't fighting with the risk of death, I wouldn't want you. Tonks," His hand reached up and touched my face. It was cold. "I will never love you like you want me to."
I stared at him incredulously. This was defiantly not how I imagined the great 'reveal'. Sirius had assured me that if Remus did confront me, ("which would be highly unlikely, Moony is such a nervous wreck when it comes to women") he would do it with grace, and not make me feel awful.
So then what was this? Why was there a malicious look in his eye? Why did he appear so twisted? Where was the kindness?
And then it clicked. One of Moody's many lectures came back to me, "The thing about Dark Creatures is that they are usually so full of hate and consumed by evil intent, that they forget to use energy to heat themselves. If an Inferi has you in a headlock, or is gripping you so tightly around the arms that the cold feels like death's welcoming arms, you are a gonner. Constant Vigilance is key. Don't let them get near enough to touch you in the first place."
But last week, when I passed Remus a cup of tea, he was warm. He was normal temperature. He even commented on how I was freezing.
I took a step backwards.
"Aren't you supposed to be on duty right now?"
His gaze went blank, his expression fell. "I… left to see you."
My wand snapped to his neck lightning fast. Remus would never leave his post. That much about him, I knew.
The imposter in front of me shrunk away.
"What are you?" I hissed.
Fake Remus grinned at me. It was a selfish, evil, and manipulative grin which maddened me to see on his kind face. "Your worst fear."
And then it hit me like a slap in the face. Idiot. Boggart.
"Ridikkulous!" I said quickly, but the Boggart just swayed slightly. It was not affected.
I panicked mildly. Was this some sort of super-boggart? I suddenly realised that I couldn't call for help. How could I explain that my worst fear was rejection from one of the highest Order members?
I repeated the spell, and this time that Boggart actually had the nerve to laugh at me! It was still strange trying to send spells at Remus-
That was it. I couldn't imagine anything funny to turn the Remus-lookalike into!
But if I couldn't laugh at my fear, I would have to change it.
"Ridikkulous!" I said, and the Remus Boggart glared at me before spinning and morphing horribly into my mother.
"Nymphadora!" She screamed, and then she dropped down to the floor, clutching a gaping hole in her side that was rapidly filling with blood.
Her gaze went out of focus, and the whole act was so realistic that I fell to the floor beside her.
The angry tears which had been hidden behind my eyes began to trickle down my face, and I stood up, pointing my wand at my dead mother, and yelled, "Ridikkulous!"
My mother sat up. And then she stood up. Her hair grew, and suddenly Grandmother Black was staring down at me over her long nose. One lip was crinkled in disgust as I smiled tightly.
Finally, we were back to my old Boggart. This is the one I had faced numerous times at school and in training.
I repeated the charm; already laughing at what I knew would be next. She would turn into a squawking parrot when she tried to speak, would erupt in feathers and finally sprout a beak.
But my familiar image did not manifest itself in front of me. Instead, the scene changed to a mirror, and I stared at myself. I was unmorphed, and my disgusting hair was long and limp. I screwed up my nose to morph it back to its short and pink look. It would not budge. It wouldn't shift one shade.
The mirror-me opened her mouth in horror, "I can't morph?! I'm stuck like this? Forever?!"
I frowned at the Boggart, and Ridikkulous'ed it again. This time it changed back to Remus, who chuckled at me.
"That's all you can do?" I sneered at him. "Dredge up a couple of childish fears?"
"Ah, but I'm not childish am I, Nymphadora?"
"You aren't my greatest fear." I tried to muster as much conviction as I could.
"But I am your current fear. And this form makes you more scared than a dead mother. Why is that?"
Boggarts were not supposed to talk, I suddenly remembered. It must have gained power from all those years in this deadened house.
And, I thought, they were definitely not supposed to speak the truth.
"Reducio!" I shouted at it firmly. Boggart Lupin shrunk suddenly, and I cast a net with my wand, opened a draw in the desk, and hastily shoved the Boggart inside. After locking it firmly, I took a step back to run my hand through my hair. I pulled a strand in front of my face. It was still bubblegum pink.
The desk began to shake.
I am ashamed to say that I, Auror Tonks, ran from the room and locked myself in the bathroom for a good ten minutes. When I came downstairs, I told Molly that I thought there was a Boggart in the desk, but I wasn't too sure.
I got a few jibes from Sirius about how 'being an Auror, surely you aren't scared of a teeny Boggart?!'
And I laughed half heartedly along with his stupid pun.
I avoided the house the next day, and avoided Remus for the following two days after that. It wasn't until the third night when I came to my senses.
I was attempting to cook myself pasta n' sauce from a muggle shop, ease assured the packet had said. Ease, I scoffed, did not mean pasta on the ceiling and sauce all down my best Weird Sisters top.
And I knew there would be plenty of food at Grimmauld, but the idea of facing Remus was hard to swallow. It was a horrible thought, to look at his wonderfully open, kind face and gentle eyes and see the Boggart's sneer staring back at me.
I wondered if he had noticed my absence. I'd missed his glances, his subtle jokes which only I seemed to understand.
I'd even missed the amused look he gave me every time I tripped or fell over something, even though I called him a git for being so annoyingly unhelpful last time. He just sat in his chair, hiding a laugh with a cough as my foot caught on the rug in the lounge, and I tumbled straight into Sirius who was napping on the large sofa at the time.
Que the jokes about 'pure blood' and 'wanting to keep it in the family'. Eugh.
As I ran these memories through my head, I knew I had convinced myself to go.
Because what was the point sitting at home, and fearing a man who had, as of yet, given me nothing to fear?
Before I could let myself think another thing, I had grabbed my cloak and wand, and Disapparated.
Soon I was standing outside the gloomy house. I knocked lightly and waiting impatiently for someone to let me in. I tapped my fingers nervously on my wand, before realising I was being stupid, that there was no reason to be nervous, and put it away.
The door creaked open, and Remus Lupin stood there peering at me cautiously.
"Hello Tonks." He smiled in what seemed like relief.
"Wotcher Remus, expecting someone else?"
"Not at all, it's good to see you. But I must confess that Moody's talks on constant vigilance have me slightly on edge."
I laughed, "After having him say that to you at least twenty times a day, you get pretty immune to it."
"He does tend to be a little melodramatic doesn't he?" His eyes twinkled with that slight mischievous look again, and I was suddenly very glad that I had left my Pasta n' Sauce on the ceiling.
And I remembered the final part of another lecture Moody had give, "Because really," He had said, "There is nothing to fear, except fear itself, nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."
"Do you mind if I grab something to eat here?"
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Reviewers get a chance to do a spot of cleaning with one mischievous werewolf ;)