The Great Hall was filled with the shouts and laughter of friends reuniting after a long summer break apart, abruptly silenced by the swinging open of the heavy wooden doors as Professor MacGonagall led the new First Years students in for the Sorting. The Sorting Hat was brought forward reverently and welcomed the students in poetic song. The First Years fidgeted in excited anticipation as the first name was called and the Sorting commenced.
Towards the back of the queue, a plain, unobtrusive child, stood quietly, staring at the floor and endeavoured to blend in, remembering Mother's parting words at King's Cross Station that morning. An affectionate but firm parental hand had stroked the neat, short, brown hair, smoothing away the turquoise curl that had wound its way out as Andromeda Tonks' only child gazed nervously at the platform crowded with other children and their families. "You'll love school, darling, I promise. Just be yourself, no silly showing off and you'll soon make lots of friends."
Tonks sighed, thinking secretly that "Be yourself" was not especially helpful advice to offer an eleven year old metamorphmagus. Who knew what that really meant when you saw a different face in the mirror each morning ? Which smile was right one to offer these new potential friends ? The quiet, shy smile which appeared with long lashes and pink apple cheeks on the rare ventures to the park with Dad to play with strange muggle children for a brief afternoon ? The bold grin matched with gleaming dark eyes and flaming curls which appeared when Cousin Sirius had once, indulgently, allowed the 8 year old Tonks to ride in the sidecar of his motorbike that last summer 3 years ago ?
The muggle-born pupils in her new class would have already been to school for years, lots of the half-blood kids too. And the pure-bloods would have had private tutor groups, like Andromeda and her sisters had had as little girls. But there had been no possiblility of Tonks attending a muggle school, given that strong emotions tended to result in rather dramatic changes of appearance in young children with Tonks' "condition" and Father's muggle salary insufficient to pay for individual tuition. School was a fairly abstract concept to Tonks whose only knowledge of the subject came from tatty paperback novels and Sirius' tall tales of his marauding days. Reluctantly, Mother had been coaxed to recall memories of her years at Hogwarts; the lessons, the Sorting, the feasts and the balls. Tonks sensed the ambivalence with which Mother described the Slytherin dorms beneath the castle, the subterranean grottoes caved from the bed rock and hoped instead for the tall Gryffindor turret of Sirius' stories.
"Tonks, Nymphadora !"
Tonks shuddered and blushed at the name and quickly perched on the stool as Professor MacGonagall placed the Sorting Hat.
"My, my. It's been a very long time since I've encountered a student with as rare a talent as yours. I should think any House would be lucky to have you but which would best benefit you, hmm ? A Slytherin like your mama and aunts perhaps ? Well, I'm sure they'd certainly find a use for you in Slytherin but perhaps you'd be better off without their games and intrigues, hmm ?"
Tonks considered for a moment the thought of following in the footsteps of the Black relatives that went before, unwittingly replicating the remembered faces of Mother and Cousin Sirius, glossy dark locks of hair snaked out from under the Sorting Hat and Tonks face grew pale and angular. The watching students gaped at the transformation, slack jawed.
"I'm sure I'm NOTHING like Aunt Cissie and Aunt Trix, nothing at all. Nor mother really." Tonks muttered.
"Ravenclaw then ? You're bright enough and they'll judge you for your brain, not your face, you know."
The long black waves recoiled, lightening as they shortened to a fine, mousy crop around a pensive, boyish face. Tonks raised an eyebrow and scrunched the aquiline nose, unconvinced.
"Hufflepuff ? They'll try hard to understand you. You'd find compassion and tolerance. It might go easier for you there," the Hat proffered.
Tonks tilted a plump, winsome face, trying out an open, friendly expression, feeling rosy cheeks dimpling and smirked, "I'm not THAT nice !"
"Well, then, not taking the easy way out, I see ?" said the Hat. "Well, a brave choice – you'll need plenty courage for the road ahead, I think. Better then be GRYFFINDOR !"
Tonks whipped the hat off, shaking out the short, reddish-gold curls beneath, and squaring the broad shoulders beneath, strode proudly towards the Gryffindor table. Suddenly noticing the shocked faces of the seated students and realising the silence that engulfed the room, Tonks faltered and became immediately and painfully aware that all the good intentions and promises and resolve to blend in, to be 'normal' had been for nothing. The entire school had watched a small, timid girl sit down on that stool and a tall, handsome boy stand up from it.