A/N: I always feel weird writing these things, as I have this chapter to get my thoughts on paper. I plan quite a few chapters, anywhere between 30 and 50, depends. It's told through Tonks's point of view because I'd like to capture certain elements of it, and let's face it, Remus's has been over done, a tragic tale of martyrdom. It gets old. It will be light and witty at times, and darker at others. A bit like life. A few chapters, between 5 and ten (depending on how many I end up writing) will be from Remus's point of view, because no story can be told from one side completely, gaps are no fun.
I wrote it in my head, and it's flourished and taken on a life of its own, and I've grown to love it, like a little sister. A little sister named Remora. This is it vomited onto paper. Love it, leave it, or rip it apart.
For Jaine and Nina, who have seen my best and worst and always been the cause of such. But most importantly, the only two people who could bring out in me something that I'd always loved.
Stopping Traffic: Fairytales
Nymphadora Tonks stood in a room that appeared endless. The white walls and skylights made its aura bright and overwhelming, though somehow peaceful. This room was not empty; it was filled with masks. They stretched in every direction for as far and long as she could see. They sat perched on square, silver pedestals, supported by glass holders.
Tonks wasn't able to name the effect these masks had on her. Pausing, the word surfaced in her mind: haunting. They were alarmingly lifelike, eyes and lips fleshy and full. Meandering down the nearest aisle, she almost recognized the masks, as if they were the faces of nameless people she had once known and forgotten, their faces distorted, flaws smoothed over.
One particular mask caught Tonks's eye, perched between that of an attractive redhead and a brown-haired man. It was the face of a young woman, fair in complexion. Her…no…its face was framed by feathered, amber-coloured hair that reached just below its chin. Its mouth was curled into a taunting smirk, mocking her. Tonks glared back at the mask.
The marking above the right eye intrigued Tonks the most, preventing her from tearing her gaze from the mask. It was a tiny golden hourglass, thin silvery wings protruding from each side, resembling those of a sprite. She crouched down to examine the marking more closely, bringing her hand up to touch the mask.
As soon as Tonks's fingertips brushed the mask's check, a golden, glowing thread of words appeared, encircling the winged hourglass: "That which drowns all else in shadows, trading sanity for truth. What sings and soars."
The closer Tonks brought her fingers to the marking, the brighter the words seemed to glow, until she could nearly feel them pulsating beneath the mask's surface. She traced the mask's right cheekbone, the skin as smooth as glass. She brought her fingertips to the edge of the marking, and just as they grazed it, the eyes of the mask flew open.
Twinkling violet eyes. Her own.
Stopping Traffic: Fairytales
Nymphadora Tonks awoke to a high-pitched, panicked scream. She wondered who would be screaming at this hour, and realized the scream was coming from her own mouth. She clapped a hand over her mouth and collapsed back onto the mattress.
She had dreamt of masks. Of all things, masks were familiar to Tonks. She'd gone through countless. It'd been a human reaction, really. If she was changing day to day, she couldn't be torn to pieces, couldn't be analyzed and picked apart. Fears of rejection had always controlled her, developing her thicker skin. Unfortunately, thickness didn't matter; skin always burns the same. The masks, her old friends, had returned, and it was time to pay up. Her own devices had returned as the enemy. Tonks's masks were the one thing that kept her from growing close to a single person, for they were her avoidance of the world, of herself. Even her roommate and supposed closest friend, Dawn, knew little about her.
When it came down to it, Tonks wasn't sure just how well she new herself. Sure, there were the material labels, an Auror, a Hufflepuff, Ted and Andromeda's daughter, or simply her own name, Nymphadora Flidais Tonks, had little to do with who she was. Perhaps no one ever truly knows themselves. Perhaps knowing little is enough.
Perhaps Tonks thought too much.
With little more than a glance at the wall clock and remembering it was Sunday, Tonks slipped back into a state of slumber. Dreamless, or as far as she remembered.
She was awoken hours later, being shaken by the precise hands of her roommate. Afternoon sunlight seeped through the blinds.
"Do you have ANY idea what time it is?" asked Dawn, annoyed. She pulled the covers off of Tonks, who turned onto her stomach and buried her face in a pillow. "It's half past four in the afternoon," Dawn said, snatching Tonks's pillow and throwing it onto the floor. Tonks sat up and simply started at her, blinking.
"Explain to me why this means I need to get up," Tonks demanded, folding her arms over her chest for emphasis. Dawn frowned and opened the blinds. Tonks squinted, holding her hand up in front of her eyes to block out the bright light. Once her vision had returned to normal, Dawn had thrust a piece of parchment at her.
"It's a good thing I keep track of things,' said Dawn, leaving the room. As she looked more closely at the parchment Dawn had given her, Tonks recognised it as a note from her father.
"Lovely Dora,
Your mother and I would be delighted to have you for dinner, as we haven't seen you since after your Auror examinations in May. 5 o'clock on the 18th of September. It's a Sunday, so don't try using work as an excuse. And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you try to look nice, by your mother's standards? It would make her happy. We're looking forward to seeing you.
With Love,
Dad.
Tonks smiled. Brief, and so typical of her father. Could you try and look nice, by your mother's standards? Tonks cringed. Her mother had always expected her to be a perfect and delicate, well, lady. Her mother had always been a bit meddlesome, though she always tried to avoid pressuring Tonks, as her own parents had done.
Unfortunately, Tonks found her father much harder to refuse. She'd always been closer to him, whether it be sneaking her chocolate frogs behind her mother's back when she was a kid, or simply accepting her choices throughout school and Auror training. It was for her father rather than her mother that she turned her hair auburn and shoulder length, pulling the front back with a tie. She grew a bit of fringe back, hoping this would suffice.
The clock on the wall warned that she had three minutes. Tonks rummaged through her closet, coming up with a pair of jeans (merciful only in their lack of holes and patches) and a sweater. She threw on her trainers and apparated to her parents' doorstep.
Tonks's hand was barely touching the handle of the door when it was flung open by her mother. Andromeda brought Tonks into the hall and gave her a quick hug.
"Nymphadora, there's someone I want you to meet," said Andromeda, gesturing towards the sitting room. Tonks opened her mouth to interrupt, but Andromeda cut her off again, "He's a nice man, and I just want you to meet him. Please." Tonks considered protesting, but upon seeing the hopeful look on her mother's face, gave in, and followed Andromeda into the sitting room, where her father sat on the sofa, talking to a dark-haired man of about twenty-five. He was attractive, if a bit clean cut.
Tonks's cheeks burned; this was embarrassing, having her mother introduce her to men, as though she was inept. Sure, her romantic life was either disastrous or nonexistent, but having her mother find her dates was just plain awkward. The man stood to meet her as she was led into the room by her mother.
"Nymphadora, this is Adam, I met him the other day through a friend. He's working as a Healer," Andromeda said, after a few moments' silence, "Adam, this is our daughter Nymphadora." Adam shook Nymphadora's hand. She smiled at him. He seemed nice, honest, and innocent.
"It's nice to meet you," said Adam, releasing her hand. He could clearly sense Tonks's embarrassment. "Your mother tells me you're an Auror?" Adam asked, clearly trying to clear the air with small talk. This caught Tonks a bit off guard. She hadn't expected her mother to flaunt her career, as though it were a trophy. She wondered how much her mother had thought to tell Adam.
Frowning in concentration, Tonks turned her hair a shade of blue-black, shortening it some. She turned back to face Adam, who looked as though he'd seen a ghost. It seemed Andromeda had left out one tiny detail.
"Yes," Tonks said proudly, "I'm an Auror. And a Metamorphmagus," she added, pointing to her hair. She returned her gaze to her mother, stifling a laugh.
"Adam, I'm sorry about that," Andromeda apologised, shifting in the armchair she was seated in. "It must have slipped my mind."
"It's alright," Adam assured her, adjusting his collar nervously. Tonks laughed and shook her head, amused. She hugged her father and sat on the sofa next to him.
"Nice to see you, Dora," her father said.
The four of them just sat there, staring at each other, silent enough to hear the wall clock ticking. After what seemed like an hour but was more likely half a minute, a loud ping sounded, and Adam reached into the pocket of his robes, retrieving a small, paging device. He studied its message, frowning.
"I'm so sorry about this," said Adam, rising from the arm chair he'd been seated in, "It's one of my patients. Some other time?" he asked, shaking Tonks's hand once more.
"Yeah," Tonks muttered, as Adam shook each of her parents' hands and made for the front door, disapparating from the doorstep. The second he was gone, Tonks doubled over laughing until tears formed in her eyes. When she finally calmed down, she sat back up to face her puzzled parents.
"What's so funny?" asked Andromeda, unaware of the humour in the situation. This just caused Tonks to begin laughing again. She got a hold of herself, taking a deep breath.
"It just is," said Tonks, wiping her eyes, "No more matchmaking, please." Andromeda frowned.
"I'm not matchmaking," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I'm just trying to help, thought you might like to meet him."
"Well, thank you," Tonks said, standing. She approached her mother and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate it, but it's unnecessary." Tonks left the sitting room and jogged up the stairs to her old bedroom, flopping down on the bed and studying the room. All of the old pictures, small collected items, an assortment of things she'd considered treasures a teenager.
A few minutes later, her father came in and sat in her old desk chair, turning to face her.
"Your mother's a bit upset," he said, shaking his head, "She insists she's not matchmaking. You know she's just trying to help?"
"Of course I do," Tonks responded, smiling, "But I really wish she wouldn't. It gets old. I can take care of myself."
"Yes," mumbled Ted, staring out the window. The more Tonks thought about it, the more flawless her mother seemed. Her parents' story had been very romantic, very Romeo and Juliet, minus the two of them ending up dead in a mausoleum. Her mother was strikingly beautiful, a rare find. Tonks was an imitation.
"She's perfect," Tonks said out loud, more to herself than her father, "Like a diamond."
"Your mother? Yes, I love her. But I love you as well, you know. You're perfect, and you always give me something to be proud of. But enough sap," He joked, laughing.
"She's a diamond. And I'm…I'm an opal, like a diamond imitation. It's pathetic," said Tonks, frowning. She was second rate, the by-product.
"You're comparing yourself and your mother to precious stones, Dora?" Her father asked, chuckling. "Mind you, they're precious. And opals are beautiful."
"They're creepy," Tonks insisted, "They're diamonds with defects."
"They're beautiful," Ted repeated, smiling at his daughter, "And they're different every time you look at them." Tonks liked the idea; it fit her as well as her name. Although she still found opals a bit on the creepy side.
Tonks laughed, rolling out of her bed, and stumbled past her father and down the stairs to the kitchen, where her mother sat bent over the table, red-faced and staring into a cold cup of tea, still confused. Tonks went up behind her and hugged her around the shoulders.
"No more setups, okay?" Andromeda whispered. Tonks nodded, embracing her mother more tightly.
Tonks may be stubborn, moody, and often obnoxious and annoying towards those she had just met. She may never be a diamond, a girl hundreds of men fell for, leaving her to pick amongst them. Perhaps there was no such thing as second rate, and you simply had to find the one person for whom you were first choice. She had always welcomed a challenge.
After all, Nymphadora Tonks had never cared for Fairytales. She'd never aimed to be a maiden worth rescuing, waiting for a strong-willed prince to come and save her. She was not a cliché damsel in distress. She'd rescue herself, thank you. A force to be reckoned with, she'd only ever be all she was. And that would simply have to be enough.
Stopping Traffic: Fairytales
A/N: There will be more. It will be longer, and hopefully as it gets past this, a sort of prologue, for everything must start somewhere. I look forward to giving my take on things as well as filling in the gaps.
Little miss light headed, not-so-eloquent, and possibly arrogant,
Nora.