Made my blood thump 7-8-9,
Make my heart beat double time.
Now, I'm the only sour cherry on the fruit stand, right?
Am I the only sour cherry on the fruit stand?

–Sour Cherry, The Kills

Her first friend at Hogwarts had been a hat.

The Sorting ceremony had been difficult for Tonks, the young Metamorphmagus – since she was ever-changing, the Sorting Hat had found it difficult to place her into one of the four Hogwarts Houses with any degree of certainty.

She had thought, perhaps a little sadly as she sat on that rickety old stool, that no one could ever see beneath the surface with her…

She'd almost jumped out of her skin when the hat had talked back to her, hearing her thoughts loud and clear – 'Sad, eh? It's the same with me. I'm a little ragged, and everyone thinks me senile! You need some cheering up, young Tonks… HUFFLEPUFF!'

And that had been that…except for the small wink the Sorting Hat had sent her as he was perched on top of another student's head.

It was just the beginning of her popularity.

She'd been welcomed into Hufflepuff with open arms, made friends inside and outside the House immediately with her bright and bubbly personality, and was soon rated one of the most popular girls attending Hogwarts.

Changing her hair every day, she was also rated one of the coolest girls – she wouldn't do it on demand, out of respect for herself, but did change the colour and style every morning to give everyone something new to look at.

With the months passed in the first, second and third years each one made Tonks more and more popular and, eventually, extremely dateable.

Every boy liked her because she was practically one of them, yet she didn't skimp out when it came to 'girl-time' either – she could gossip with the best of them.

But, almost above all, she was kind.

Every boy who asked her to go out with them got a chance, and every girl who asked for advice received the best she could give.

Tonks was polite and respectful to teachers, but was never a suck-up, and she excelled in most of her classes – only lagging behind a little in Potions due to her lack of a steady hand and a good sense of equilibrium.

But that didn't mean she wasn't wild – she was one hell of a prankster and had the sharpest wit that anyone had ever come across, including most of the professors.

Her crowning achievement – the one that made her dad's eyes water with pride – was when she finally made Beater for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team in her fourth year.

And that was how she met Bill.

Being practically the most popular girl in school, meant that everyone thought she should be going out with the most popular boy – that boy was Bill.

He played Chaser for Gryffindor, and when Tonks made the Hufflepuff team and played their first match against the gold and reds she was knocked breathless at his good looks.

But Tonks wasn't some simpering girl who fainted at the sight of a rugged bloke – Hufflepuff thrashed Gryffindor that day, and it was mostly thanks to Tonks' efforts at knocking Bill, their star player, off his broom with a few well-Beaten Bludgers.

He'd gone to her afterwards, before the celebrations began, and asked her out.

She had smiled and said yes.

That had been that.

"Come on. Stop it, Nymph."

Tonks rolled her eyes, but removed her wandering fingers from his back anyway. "It's just a stupid essay."

"Hey." Bill frowned from his position hunched over his pile of seventh-year books and a long roll of parchment, but his eyes never left his furiously scribbling quill. "Some people aren't passing Charms with flying colours, alright?"

Tonks sighed and looked around the half-empty library. "I know."

Bill smiled down at his parchment, though the expression was obviously meant for her. "I'm sorry I cancelled our date."

"It's okay. I understand."

And, truthfully, she did – Tonks understood how important Bill's education was to him, especially with the list of dream jobs he had…but sometimes she just wished that things with Bill weren't so difficult.

As he scribbled away, she sat back in her chair and thought – she thought of all the times she had given up important time to be with Bill, yet when she was free and he wasn't he wouldn't drop anything for her, and how when it really came to it…Bill was as bland and as unadventurous as they came.

A frown crossed her face, her bright pink 'Bill-approved' hair turning a shade mauve, as she thought about how they'd snuck into a stationery cupboard a month or so ago to snog…but when Tonks' hand had dared to explore beyond his belt, he had frozen and stuttered something about needing to see one of the professors before flying out of there like a bat out of Hell.

And every time since then had been just the same, except Bill was even quicker to shut her down.

And Tonks didn't care at first, because it was Bill's right to not want to be touched or touch her in any way he didn't like…but when he kept letting her in and then turning her down, or downright ignoring her for days because of it…well, it hurt.

Because there had to be something wrong with her – right?

If the coolest, most popular, best-looking boy in school – who also happened to be her boyfriend – didn't want to get…involved with her then she must have been doing something wrong.

Thoughts rolled through her mind as she sat there, one right after the other and picking up speed – Bill always told her she was too much sometimes…and maybe that was where she was going wrong, she was coming on too strong.

But Tonks was what she was, and no matter how many noses or arms she cycled through she could never change her personality – but as she watched Bill's dark-red hair glint in the last rays of sun coming through the high library windows…she knew she'd try anything.

She didn't want to be unwanted.

She would go back later, rifle through the Restricted section for some kind of spell or potion…

It was her last year at Hogwarts, and she wanted it to be the best yet.

It was dark, late, the moon riding high outside the castle's windows – Tonks' stripy-socked feet were silent as she left the Hufflepuff common room, dressed only in her knee-high socks and short pyjamas, and crept along the corridors of the castle towards the Library.

Everyone thought it was difficult to move around the castle after hours, but the truth was it was tremendously easy – Filch was old, Mrs Norris had a dodgy nose from an Exploding Snap incident…and all the other professors who were meant to patrol the grounds at night were pretty lazy and hardly patrolled anything at all except their liquor cabinets.

And the paintings liked Tonks anyway – they always smiled at her and asked what hair-style she was thinking of displaying next – so as she sneaked towards the Library those occupants that were awake all grinned at her silently and some gave her thumbs-up.

She slipped in through a side-door, and sighed in relief when she found herself alone and a few magic candles still lit.

The darkened Restricted section called to her.

The gates silently swung open in her hands, and Tonks padded along the shadowed rows of books looking for something that could help – she remembered seeing something around before that could–

"Ah-ha…" She breathed, seeing familiar faint gold lettering.

She pulled the book out slowly, knowing that the charm that protected it was one that activated if the book was moved too quickly or roughly.

Soon enough, it was lying in her hands.

She found a seat in a darkened corner of the Library and curled up in a chair – opening the book, she frowned at the extremity of the potions that lay within it.

They were darker than most things she'd read about, and could be used for good…but they changed a lot about a person – Tonks read the words 'insane' and 'a danger to others' and knew that the potions she was looking at were meant to change people who needed changing.

Did she need to change?

She certainly didn't want to, but maybe if she made a weak potion and–

There was a sudden cough, and Tonks looked up wide-eyed to see someone sitting opposite her across the table – his feet were up on the table, shod in unlaced black combat boots, and he only wore dark green striped pyjama trousers…

Her eyes slowly slid up his…particularly well-muscled bare chest, past his shoulder-length almost-dreadlocked dark hair, up his handsome face, until she was looking into his bright blue eyes…

"Uhm…wotcher?" She breathed – she must have been distracted, no one ever got the jump on her.

He sat back and smirked. "Wotcher."

Wow…

She was sure she had never heard a voice that deep and dirty in her entire life – it put her entire body on edge.

"Can I help you?"

He shook his head, still smirking. "No."

Tonks narrowed her eyes at him, before deciding he was just messing with her and she needed to leave – she snapped the book shut and decided to take it away with her.

"Goodnight then," she muttered, uncurling herself and stepping away from the table.

As she turned her back, his voice came again. "Can I help you?"

She frowned and turned back. "No. Who are you anyway?"

"Scabior, and I'm goin' to be the one to tell you to put that book back."

"I'm not stealing it!" She whispered harshly.

The boy, Scabior, smirked some more. "I know that, love. Just put it back."

"No. I need it."

"Do you?"

He knew… He bloody knew!

Tonks stared at him with wide eyes, and she could feel her hair turning colour – how could he possibly know what she was doing?

"How long were you watching me for?"

"Long enough. You know you talk to yourself?"

He crossed his long arms over his chest and Tonks fought not to ogle him – her outrage made it easy.

"I do not. And this isn't any of your business anyway!"

Her manners had flown south – she didn't like being examined too closely, and his blue eyes were most definitely examining her…very thoroughly.

"What if I make it my business?" He asked.

Tonks spluttered, "Well, don't! What year are you in anyway? I haven't seen you before."

"Seventh year now – I've been here right from the beginning, love. I was after you in the Sorting."

A vague memory of a boy with long dark hair prickled her scalp, but she couldn't quite remember his face – Tonks was pretty sure she'd never seen him in her classes either.

"I don't remember you."

Scabior shrugged. "I remember you and that's all that matters. I know you don't want to be doing that."

Tonks frowned. "Give me one good reason."

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze piercing her in the strangest and deepest of ways, and then he released one long breath, as if he really didn't want to say what he was going to, before murmuring, "Because he's not worth it."

Tonks' hair turned red with fury…but she said nothing, choosing instead to turn and leave through the Restricted bookcases – as she passed, she slid the book back into its little nook.

She felt his eyes on her as she left the Library, and she had never been so tempted to throw a two-fingered gesture over her shoulder in all her life – so…she did.

She heard him snicker.

The next day was a drag for Tonks – she had an extra Potions session after the end of the school day when all her friends were planning on laying out in the sunshine after class, and she had to stay in the Dungeons and work on her last essay.

Professor Snape had thrown it down in front of her earlier and sneered, 'Come back at the end of the day to work out what you did wrong. If you conveniently 'forget' to come here, points will be deducted from your House…'

Which meant she had to attend. Bugger.

Bill had given her big puppy-dog eyes, but she had just shook her head – he didn't seem to understand things when she needed him to, but he always made her understand his perspective.

She was getting sick of him – a part of her was glad to be in the Dungeons so she could be away from him for a couple of hours.

Tonks trudged down the dank spiral staircase that led to Snape's classroom and knocked on the wooden door when she reached it.

"Come," a bored voice murmured, and Tonks pushed open the classroom door.

Snape's gaze lifted from his desk. "Good afternoon, Miss Tonks."

"Afternoon, Professor."

"Sit and begin."

He pointed to a clear desk and Tonks went quietly, taking out her parchment and quills – she knew the drill with Potions; she'd been in this position thousands of times before.

She worked away quietly for ten minutes or so, before she felt something…odd – someone was definitely watching her…

She looked up and ice-blue eyes met her grey ones – there he was, Scabior, dressed in Slytherin robes, with his long almost-dreadlocked hair falling to his shoulders…and Tonks only now noticed a long red streak in his hair, along with some very fine and elaborate plaits.

"Hello again."

His voice was deep and dark and–

She tried not to scowl at him. "Hello."

Snape's head snapped up. "Toombs. Stop bothering Miss Tonks – she has work to do, and so do you."

Tonks smirked at Scabior, and Scabior smiled back just as cockily…before taking up the seat next to her.

Her smile dropped. "Wha–?"

"Toombs," Snape cut in. "What are you doing?"

"Might need an extra pair of hands, Professor," he said innocently enough, but Tonks could see a glint in his eye.

She discreetly rolled hers.

Snape shook his hand at him dismissively. "Carry on. Just be quiet."

Scabior turned and grinned at Tonks. Tonks looked back at her work.

He set up his cauldron and ingredients next to her, and Tonks desperately reined in her temper as he kept on nudging her – on the tenth time, she prepared to move–

"Help me out, would you?"

She looked up to see him holding out a small box of strange bones.

"Toad bones," he clarified as she took them. "Can you drop a couple in every now and then as I stir?"

Tonks stood from her seat and lifted a couple of the small bones out of the box, ready to drop them into the strange silvery goo already in the cauldron as Scabior took up his long wooden spoon and began to stir.

But his eyes weren't on the cauldron.

He smirked at her, and whispered, "How are you?"

"Fine," she replied quietly and shortly, well aware Snape was only a few metres from them.

"Not…looking into things anymore?"

She glared at his handsome face beneath her rapidly reddening fringe. "No."

"Good. Drop 'em."

Tonks paused, startled – Scabior watched her with amusement, before taking her hand and opening it above the cauldron.

The bones fell in.

Oh…

"Somethin' else on your mind?"

"No," Tonks muttered, picking up some more bones.

Snape suddenly stood. "Continue, you two – I will be gone only momentarily."

As soon as the bat-like professor had left, Scabior turned to Tonks. "So, not haphazardly trying to turn yourself into someone you're not anymore?"

Tonks growled, "Shut up."

Scabior batted away her tone easily. "Just sayin', it's not the kind of thing you give up on if you're serious about it – and you looked serious, love."

Tonks said nothing, hoping that he wouldn't delve too deeply into her silence – she had thought about going back to the Library another night and taking the book then.

Scabior chuckled under his breath as if he had heard her thoughts. "Tenacious. I like it. I'll just have to make sure I go back every night and stop you."

"What makes you think I can't outmanoeuvre you?"

He looked her up and down. "Well, if you wear those itty-bitty pyjamas and those long, long…" He cleared his throat. "If you dress like that again, I'm goin' to easily catch you, aren't I? You didn't exactly blend in or anythin'."

Just to be cocky, Tonks immediately camouflaged herself – she'd been working on it for a while, but had never really had the chance to test it out.

She faded into the stone wall behind her perfectly, except for her clothes of course.

But Scabior didn't say anything – he carried on making his potion.

Tonks didn't huff, she simply stared – most people were amazed with her, ogling her every chance they got.

Scabior's long fantastical hair slipped over his shoulders and around his face as he worked.

"You're different," she stated.

That was when he looked up, trying to meet her eyes – she revealed them and his gaze connected with hers.

"Dead right, love."

She came forwards, shaking off her camouflage. "How?"

He shrugged. "I'm not a Slytherin."

Tonks frowned and darted her eyes to his House badge. "That makes no sense."

"I don't belong in any of the Houses. The Hat put me in Slytherin 'cause I had a smidgen of potential there…but I don't really belong there. I'm a bit…changeable."

Tonks cocked her head to the side. "You realise I'm a bit changeable, too."

Scabior smirked, setting down his spoon and turning to her. "Only on the outside. I'm changeable on the inside, though I do like finding spells and charms for myself."

Tonks felt a smile bubble up. "I like the braids."

Scabior nodded and grinned back. "I like your hair when it's purple, like it was last night."

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Not pink?"

Scabior sighed, "Not because I'm a bloke and therefore I don't like pink…but because the purple looks beautiful with your silver eyes."

Something within Tonks shook pleasantly – she'd never heard anyone say anything like that to her before; her mum always told her how nice her natural hair was and Bill was always saying how he liked bright pink on her, but no one had told her she looked beautiful.

"I've made you mushy," he murmured, grinning smugly.

Tonks glared. "No, you haven't. I'm very un-mushy. I'm… I'm… I'm just very, very un-mush-able."

In a surprise move, Scabior leant forwards and pressed his lips closely to Tonks' ear. "Just between us, love…you're a terrible liar. And…"

He paused.

Tonks turned her face so their eyes could meet. "What?"

Scabior swallowed. "And he doesn't treat you right."

He spun away from her, back to his work, just as Snape came back through the door.

The professor narrowed his eyes at Tonks, who was standing out of her seat with her eyes wide and her face blank. "Do I have to detract some points, Miss Tonks?"

Tonks hurriedly shook her head and sat back down next to Scabior.

He worked away as she scribbled, and she could see him shoot glances at her every now at then – but Tonks was still in shock.

Does he have the right to say those things? What does he want from me anyway? How dare he talk about Bill like that!

But then there was a voice in the back of Tonks' mind that told her he was just voicing the things she thought – Bill didn't treat her right, he made her feel less than she was even though she knew she shone in everyone's eyes, and she wanted more from him…more that he didn't want to give.

Tonks didn't pause in her scribbling, even as she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and quickly slipped it under her quill – she wrote Scabior a note.

Library. Tonight – 12…

Tonks waited impatiently in her corner seat in the Library – Scabior had nodded at her note and then they had stayed in silence for the rest of the time they were both there, and afterwards Tonks had gone straight back to her bed to sleep so she could stay up later.

She didn't bother wearing anything different than the other night: short pyjamas and long socks – he'd already seen what her nightwear consisted of, so what was the point in changing?

Tonks just wanted to find out, to understand, why he seemed interested her – why did he help her the other night, and why did he seem so quick to doubt Bill?

Maybe she was only interested in talking to him because he was different and he didn't think Bill was a saint like everyone else – but, she thought to herself, there was something strange about him that just…set her on edge.

It was like there was something she needed from him.

She sighed, shifting in her seat…and then he was suddenly there, standing at the edge of the table opposite Tonks wearing his combat boots, pyjama trousers and a dark grey t-shirt.

"Covering up?" Tonks asked teasingly.

Scabior smirked. "Bit colder tonight."

A thought struck Tonks as he sat down opposite her. "Why were you here the other night anyway?"

Scabior's hand lifted and tangled in his braids, dreads and slightly-wavy dark locks. "I was lookin' for spells for my hair."

Tonks felt one of her eyebrows lift. "Your hair?"

Scabior smirked. "Just 'cause I'm a bloke I can't like messin' about with my hair?"

She shook her head. "No, not that… You just…don't seem the type, is all."

He shrugged.

Silence reigned.

Tonks cleared her throat awkwardly. Scabior sat down opposite her and smiled smugly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

His lips curled…deliciously. "Nothin'. Just…you, tryin' to figure me out."

"I'm not."

"Not what?"

"Not trying to figure you out."

"I've told you you're a bad liar before, haven't I, love?"

Tonks huffed slightly, but her eyes remained on him.

Scabior sat back in his chair and stretched. "Go on, then. Ask me."

"Fine." Tonks levelled her gaze. "Why are you so interested in me? You say things that–"

He held up a hand, halting her. "Let's get this straight. I'm not interested in you."

Tonks tried not to show her shock. If he wasn't interested then why had he said the things he had?

"I'm interested in what you could be."

Oh…

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" She asked, and his face turned suddenly serious.

Scabior stood, circling the table and taking a seat on her left. His gaze ran over her hotly and she felt her skin flush.

"It means," he murmured, "that if you could just take your head out of your arse and get a good look at the bloke you're with…then you might see he's a total wanker."

It seemed that was all Scabior had to say on that subject, because he sat back and waited for Tonks to say something. She was sure he wasn't expecting what she did say…

"I know he's a wanker."

His eyes widened, his chair slipping from where he was balancing on the two back legs and falling onto all four with a loud crack.

"Why the bloody hell are you still with him, then?"

It was a good question, one that Tonks didn't know the answer to. She simply shrugged in reply.

Scabior shook his head at her, his near-dreadlocks and intricate plaits flicking about with fury.

"You can't just shrug. He treats you like a shiny little trophy to put in a lonely glass cabinet." His ice-blue eyes flashed with flames. "You deserve to be treated like you're real…"

She knew right then that was what she wanted. He'd hit the nail on the head. She wanted to be loved and treasured, but she didn't want to be treated like she was fragile when she was anything but. She wanted passion, kisses that could rock her bones and crack her sanity, touches that led to more than being pushed away and coldness…

Scabior's mouth was suddenly pressed against her own, all hot and hard pressure, and she knew, without a doubt, that he was the one who could give her the things she craved.

Tonks knew, as she sat in another Potions detention, that Scabior was trying to kill her.

After coming to a silent understanding after that mind-blowing kiss in the Library, they had parted ways and not seen each other until the next day when Professor Snape had ordered them both down to the Dungeons to help sort his Potions classroom.

Tonks reckoned Snape had bloody well done it on purpose, including the part where he had instructed them to 'clean the place up' and then promptly left them to it – locking the door behind him as well, of course.

It wasn't like Tonks hadn't tried to get out either – alohomora could only work so many different spells and locks, and the Potions door was one of the exceptions.

Of course, Scabior seemed pleased about the little development. Tonks had simply sat down at a desk and refused to look at him.

"C'm'ere, love," Scabior breathed against the back of her neck.

Tonks' skin promptly broke out in shivers, her hair automatically turning purple with the sensation.

He laughed lowly behind her, one of his hands skimming her bare neck while the other snaked around her waist.

"I love the purple."

His voice was low and dirty, and she realised just how much her ears had longed to hear it – all of her life it seemed.

Tonks turned to look at him. He gave her a smouldering smile, blue eyes twinkling.

"You're stunning," he murmured to her, before leaning down to give her a shocking kiss that left her breathless.

It had been less than a day since Tonks had found her body starved for his, and the realisation had left her wanting.

Her mouth was hungry, her hands hungrier, and soon enough she found their long Hogwarts robes on the floor.

Scabior moaned lowly against her mouth as his hands ran over Tonks' short-sleeved white blouse and her knee-length grey skirt.

"Forget about him," he told her, and…she did.

"What's wrong with you?" Bill suddenly asked her.

Tonks was running her fingers through her waist-length purple curls. Scabior liked the colour and she had no reason not to either, and, in fact, she was becoming quite partial to it.

"Huh?"

They were in the Library again, books open on the table in front of them, and she wasn't paying one speck of attention to Bill. She was thinking of Scabior and being in his bed the night before, cuddling and talking about colouring his hair in streaks.

"You're so distant," Bill told her. "It's like…you're not here. At all. And what's going on with your hair? It's so…"

"It's purple."

"See? You're acting so weird!"

Tonks was getting fed up, and she was getting fed up fast. "What do you want from me, Bill?"

"I want my girlfriend back," he said loudly, turning heads. "I want you to talk to your friends again. I want you to be passionate about Quidditch again!"

Tonks huffed. "What, you want your toy back, you mean?"

His eyes widened and he looked flabbergasted. "Who are you?"

"She's with me," a voice growled from over Tonks' shoulder.

She looked up to see Scabior, a fresh red streak in his hair.

"Nice." Tonks grinned.

Scabior smirked. "You too, love."

She stood up before Bill could say another word, his mouth fallen open wide, and took Scabior's hand.

"And don't you bloody forget it," Tonks told Bill over her shoulder, striding off with Scabior out of the Library.

"How was that?" She whispered to him, once they were out of earshot.

"Very nice," he told her, kissing her neck. "Now you're a free woman… Want to become an item again?"

She kissed him hard, growling into his mouth as they tumbled to the closest disused classroom.