24th December 1996 – Awkward Introductions
Dear Tonks,
I do not think that dressing up like an 'old boring lady' and make yourself look older would be an advisable strategy to make a good impression on Remus' mother, and, no, I doubt that sending someone else in your place would be wise, even if, as you said, you're a Metamorphomagus and she could never say it's not you. I suggest you ask Remus what is her favourite colour and wear an appropriate dress of that colour (if you're going to buy it, ask the shop assistant to help you choose!).
I hope everything will be alright at the Lupins, wish you the best luck.
Love,
Molly
-------
No, no, I can't, this is never going to work…
Tonks stared at herself in one of the windows of the houses she and Remus were walking by, and thought that she looked like a child disguised for Halloween. Not one single detail in her seemed realistic enough to look even remotely convincing.
First of all, she'd had to drop her awesome faux leather jacket for a heavy pearl-grey tweed overcoat, under which she wore – the mere thought made her shudder – a dress. But not a common, plain dress: it was a silk dress (in December, barely five degrees outside), knee-long, a sickly shade of baby pink, and a pair of matching high-heeled shoes were currently torturing her feet and ankles, making her walk like some kind of demented duck, even after a whole week of practising. Truth to be told, she was seriously surprised she had never lost her balance from the moment she had Apparated with Remus behind one of the bushes of the lane. Okay, she'd broken one of the heels and smudged with grass the border of the dress when she'd landed with her buttocks on the ground, but luckily, thanks to Remus' cool blood and a simple prod of his wand, everything had been fixed in a blink.
"You know, it would be easier if you relaxed," Remus told her, taking her hand in his as they crossed the street. "Not much, just that little bit that would allow you to walk without looking like you've swallowed a broomstick."
Tonks cursed under her breath and kicked a rock away from her path, and deliberately ignored him.
"Good evening, Mrs Lupin, Mr Lupin… Good evening." She repeated once more the greeting part, then anxiously turned to Remus. "Is it evening at five o'clock?"
"Technically, it's afternoon until six o'clock." He replied patiently, and she took a mental note to replace 'Good evening' with 'Good afternoon' in the imaginary script she had made up during the past week.
Resigned to the fact that not even the mightiest miracle would ever spare her the humiliation of stumbling into some carpet or dropping some precious antique porcelain cup in front of Remus' parents, Tonks had soon given up practising all the 'Thank you, Mrs Lupin, it's delicious' and 'Mr Lupin, Remus tells me you're an exceptional piano player', and started, instead, with the 'I'm sorry', 'I'm desolated', 'I don't know how this could have happened' series.
While trying to remember what damn things she should carefully have to avoid in the Lupins presence, she collided with Remus, who had suddenly stopped walking, and nearly fell to the gound for the second time in less than ten minutes.
"Ouch!"
Remus' hands caught her at once, and helped her find her balance again. He gave her a soothing smile, tucking a lock of long hair behind her ear.
"Here we are."
Tonks' heart pounded.
Oh, Merlin…
Number thirty seven of Nutgrove Avenue in Chruchtown, Dublin, was a beautiful detached house, with a small but beautiful perfectly-kept garden, green as Tonks had never seen in London, and everything round the place oozed wealth and respectability.
"Ready?"
Tonks turned to meet Remus' inquiring eye and sketched a light-hearted face, even if her heart – and insides – felt anywhere near light.
"Sure."
"Great."
She gulped nervously, clenching her fists to fight the urge to bite her freshly manicured nails. Remus took her hand in his and gently stroked the back of it with his thumb.
"Relax." He muttered, and placed a soft kiss on her temple, then headed up the entrance walk, pulling her after him.
When he stopped in front of the elegant Georgian doorway and made to ring the bell, Tonks gave a little discomforted squeak. Remus squeezed her hand tighter and pushed the bell button.
In the seemingly eternal instants that occurred between that gesture and the opening of the door, a million thoughts and doubts flooded Tonks' mind, which felt nastily overcharged. When finally the door started opening, anyway, everything dissolved into thin air, leaving Tonks unable to formulate any thought out of 'OhMerlinthisisnevergoingtowork!' in front of the smiling woman who was now looking at her and Remus from the threshold.
Mrs Lupin was a pretty woman in her middle fifties, stately- and severe-looking, with a pair of sharp, piercing grey eyes and an impeccable shoulder-length dark blond haircut that made Tonks wish she'd chosen a more appropriate style than mere, ordinary straight brown hair.
"Remus," the woman smiled warmly to her son and hugged him, then stepped aside the doorway, inviting them in. "And this must be young Nerissa…" She skimmed her cheekbones against Tonks' cheeks.
"Nymphadora." Remus corrected quickly, casting Tonks a surreptitious glance. "Who prefers to be addressed as Tonks." He placed a hand on the small of her back and gently pushed forward.
"Ah, yes," Mrs Lupin nodded affably. "Nerissa was the girl –"
"Mother," Remus said through a visibly forced smile. "Please."
Tonks' posed smile faltered before the uneasiness Remus couldn't seem to mask after the mention of this infamous Nerissa girl, whom she felt the inexplicable instinctive urge to hate.
Altogether oblivious to her not-so-well hidden nervousness, Mrs Lupin studied Tonks' figure for a short while, as if trying to unmask every single detail of her clumsy 'good girl' disguise. Tonks felt like she could fall any moment off those damn heels while the woman's eyes lingered at her feet. She glanced down and had to bite her tongue not to curse in a very inappropriate way: her black tattoo was clearly visible on the pale skin of her left ankle – which, by the way, felt like it was going to break any moment now.
Buggers, I totally forgot of that one!
"Tonks," Remus said, with a timing that Tonks would cherish for the rest of her life. "Meet my mother, Alhena Sarah McKinnon Lupin."
Pureblood maiden name, star-like first name, elegant house… Why do I have the feeling this is going to be a hard afternoon?
She and Mrs Lupin shook hands.
"You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago," the woman said to her son. "I'm afraid the tea has gone cold, by now." Her lips barely stretched into an apologetic smile. "We are going to have to wait another few minutes whilst Hatsie prepares some more."
"Hatsie?" Tonks asked absently. Mrs Lupin looked at her like she was facing a four-year-old who couldn't put two and two together, and Tonks felt her cheeks blush, panicking.
What? What stupid bloody thing did I say now?
"Hatsie is our house-elf, dear," Mrs Lupin explained patiently. "She should be done soon. I suggest we start getting comfortable, in the mean time."
"Where's Dad?" asked Remus as he and Tonks took off their coats and hung them into a small wardrobe room right down the stairs.
"Some issue at the office," she said quietly, still unable to hide a certain amount of disappointment. "As always, you can't run a company without being annoyed every now and then, even on Christmas Eve." She sighed, but immediately recomposed herself. "Shall we go to the tea room?"
Tea room? I thought cafés had tea rooms, not houses…
Mrs Lupin gestured towards a door at the end of the hallway and led them to a large, luminous room, finely furnished with a couple antique cupboards at the two sides of a nearly wall-wide window, a large table with its ten chairs (all standing above the most immense oriental carpet Tonks had ever seen) in the middle of the room, a small writing desk in a corner and a couple of dark green velvet-clad armchairs, just by the fireplace, where a cracking fire was gleaming; here and there on the walls, paintings of green country landscapes and portraits of intimidating men and women.
Everything was very neat and tidy, and Tonks was seriously afraid that by the end of the afternoon she would manage to trip into the hem of the carpet and probably destroy some priceless (both economically and affectively) heirloom.
Calm, I just have to stay calm. Do not touch anything, do not move unless it's strictly necessary, do not even breathe, if you can, and everything will be perfect.
Here and there about the room, tidily settled, were very tasteful yet sober Christmas decorations, the most spectacular of which was the three-metre tree sparkling next to the fireplace, scattered with minuscule real fairies. It took Tonks a while to notice Mrs Lupin was scrutinising her in a very odd way, and only then realised her jaw was hanging in a very embarassing way. She rapidly closed her mouth and stood motionless and disorientated on the doorstep, arms falling loosely at her sides, and she wondered why on earth she had to have a pair of arms if they were so damn useless and difficult to keep in a position that wouldn't look either incredibly stupid or excessively posed.
"Shall we sit down?" Mrs Lupin said, beckoning them to the table, where a vast tray full of scones and pastries seemed to want to inform Tonks that in between expensive china cups and sausages and boiling hot tea, she would also have to deal with jam, cream and chocolate. She could barely eat a plain scone without ending up licking her lips, let alone what she could do with all that creamy stuff. All of a sudden, she felt prematurely exhausted.
Oh, how, how could I be such a fool to let him trick me into this?
She glanced down at Remus' hand, tucked in his pocket, where she knew he was keeping her MP3 player, ready to blackmail her any time, so she sighed powerlessly and sat down in front of Mrs Lupin, Remus next to her as a slim source of comfort. When she lifted her gaze, Tonks noted something she0d missed before, because of the incredible tree: on the mantelpiece, a few animated pictures of the Lupin family showed off among several award plates and medals Tonks had absolutely no difficult in recognising as Hogwarts prizes.
What the heck? I knew he was nerd, but – Merlin's beard, this is a bit scary.
"Impressive, isn't it?" said Mrs Tonks' silky voice out of Tonks' visual field.
Yeah, 'impressive' is really the word. Buggers…
"I assume Remus told you he was a prefect," the woman's lips barely stretched out, but Tonks had the feeling it was meant to be a broad grin. "Excellent marks throughout his scholastic career, praised by every teacher. He was –"
"Mother," Remus hastily cut her off. "Can we talk about something else, please?"
Mrs Lupin adjusted an already perfect crystal centrepiece, lips tightly pressed together, as if she was trying to keep herself from adding something.
The dead moment was saved by the entrance of the most minuscule house-elf Tonks had ever seen, introduced by the vague clattering sound of the china service she was carrying on the silver tray above her head: Hatsie's height barely reached the table and her huge round black eyes gave her the permanent expression of a terrorised kitten.
"Hatsie did as fast as she could, Mistress," squeaked the elf, in a terribly high-pitched voice, lying the tray on the table with an evident effort.
"Here, let me help you." Said Tonks, catching the tray from Hatsie's tiny hands and pushing it safely in the middle of the table.
She barely had the time to compliment herself for not having spilled or broken anything, that she met Mrs Lupin's bewildered look. She cast a furtive glace at Remus, who returned it with an alarmed expression that crushed Tonks.
What did I –?
She saw Hatsie stare at her in horror with those enormous eyes, shooting scared glazes at her Mistress, who bore the most unreadable expression Tonks had ever seen.
"Dear," Mrs Lupin breathed. "You're a guest, you shouldn't – it's Hatsie's duty to –"
Tonks looked back and forth from Mrs Lupin, to Hatsie and the to Remus, a growing desire to Disapparate at once tempting her.
"It's okay, Hatsie, you can go back to the kitchen, thanks." Said Remus in the end, and the elf bowed deeply in front of him, bubbling some thanks.
"As young Master wishes, sir."
Hatsie addressed another bow to Tonks and Mrs Lupin and hurried out of the room, her long but unusually decent – at least for a house-elf – curatin robe sweeping behind her feet.
"Tea, Mother?" Remus offered casually, grabbing the steamy pot from the tray. Tonks couldn't stifle a smile: there weren't many people in the world who could keep everything under control in such a natural and self-confident way, but she, of course, had had the luck to find one.
"Tonks?"
"Uh?" Tonks looked up and saw that Remus had already served Mrs Lupin and was now handing her out her own cup. She immediately recognised the fine silver decorations on the candid, shiny border and surface of the cup, Remus had told her a million times it was his mother's pride.
Oh, no, Great Grandma Maia's antique porcelain service…
"Tonks?"
Remus arched his brows, the cup firmly settled on the sausage he was holding. It looked so simple, if you looked at him…
Tonks took a deep breath and, under Mrs Lupin's intent gaze, took the saucer between her fingers, carefully leading it down in front of herself.
Brilliant! At least this one is done.
She had already let out a small sigh of relief, complimenting herself for the great victory against her clumsiness, when Mrs Lupin's cold hand lay upon hers.
"Tonks, dear," Mrs Lupin gave her a polite smile. "Would pass me the milk, please?"
Buggers, this is going to be the longest tea of my life.
TBC
A/N: So, this chapter came out a little longer than I had expected, so it's going to be posted in two parts. Hope you liked it so far.
Reviews are, as always, very appreciated.
