Nymphadora allowed the door of her parents' home to slam behind her, then wrinkled her nose, hearing her mother's voice say, "Nymphadora, you've been told not to slam the door."
"Mum," she said breathlessly, walking toward her mother, then past her, on into the living room, "Mum, I've joined the Order. And don't call me Nymphadora."
"You've—" Andromeda Black Tonks turned to stare blankly at her daughter for a few seconds. "The Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yeah," Dora answered, her hair turning pink from the mousey brown it had been. "I already know some of the members, and we're meeting sometime this week…." She smiled a little.
The older witch frowned. "The Order is not safe," she reminded her colourful daughter. "You'll be more of a target now than ever, and your father and I will as well."
Dora chewed her lip thoughtfully, then plopped down on the couch. "We're going to be targeted anyway, I assume, if all the old Death Eaters escape Azkaban as Dumbledore says. I might as well do something to resist the uprising."
"Allying yourself with the Light Lord," Andromeda muttered. "Dora...you don't know what you're getting yourself into—Dumbledore is a manipulative old bastard without a care for anyone who won't go along with his plans. If you knew him…well, he's not unlike the Dark Lord in some ways."
"Mum!" Dora looked surprised. "You can't mean that."
"Do I ever say things I don't mean?" Andromeda asked pointedly.
"Are you an ex-Black?" Nymphadora replied, eyebrow raised. "Yes, Mum, you do."
Andromeda smirked, then looked away. "I would advise you to leave the Order before you get too involved, but I don't think you'd listen," she mused to Dora.
Nymphadora gave her mother a strange look. "Just because you think Dumbledore's a little bit off?"
Her mother laughed drily, and the younger witch bit her lip slightly. "Dora," she sighed, "you're too much."
"What?" Dora said, still confused. "What are you talking about?"
"If you're found out, by anyone," Andromeda said quietly, "either the Ministry, or the Death Eaters, or both will make life more difficult for you. You could lose your position, you could be maimed, you could die, your father and I could be hunted down to keep you in line—the list is endless, really."
"Are you afraid of being hunted?" Dora questioned, scowling a bit and thinking of telling her mother off.
Andromeda sighed. "Hunted, no. Being used as bait, or having you used as bait—I'm not afraid, but I'd rather not go through that. And I can't stand to imagine what might happen to your father if the Dark caught him."
Dora nodded. "Oh," she agreed, not coming up with a better reply.
"I know that you'll do what you feel you have to," Andromeda said, walking over to sit by her daughter, "but you'll tear your family apart while you're at it."
"Seems that I'm not that much different from you after all," Nymphadora answered evenly, and her mother's eyes narrowed sharply.
"You've mistaken me for your Aunt Bella, I believe," Andromeda said coolly, and Dora chilled slightly. "Truth be told: I would have been less surprised if you had taken the Mark rather than joined the Order."
"Mum!" Dora said in shock.
Andromeda merely looked at her for several moments, then warned, "You've chosen a hard path, Dora."
Nymphadora hesitated a second, then slipped her arm around her mother. "You were always the voice of doom and gloom," she told her, her head on the woman's shoulder, "but I love you."
The older witch wrapped her arms around the young woman and squeezed her affectionately. It wasn't as if Nymphadora had ever listened to her anyway, even when she was a child. Nymphadora would find out the consequences of her choice soon enough without her mother's help.