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"Detention, Weasley! You can join Tonks tonight at 5:00pm sharp, down at Hagrid's. He will see that you are sufficiently punished, I'm sure." McGonagall said sharply, correctly assuming that his smirk meant he didn't believe Hagrid would punish him properly. Her eyes twinkling slightly when Charlie remembered the Quidditch tryouts that evening – his expression went from cocky to bewildered in an instant. Charlie didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"But, Professor, Quidditch tryouts are tonight! I can't just –"
"Well, you will just have to miss out this year, Weasley." McGonagall knew this was going too far – the boy practically lived on a broomstick – but she could make an excuse for him later, she knew, though Snape wouldn't like it.
Charlie was outraged, but then he remembered McGonagall had said he would be doing detention with Tonks. On the outside he was still gaping outrageously, but on the inside he was sighing in relief. He wanted nothing more than to talk to Tonks again, to be with her again, but he had the feeling he had told Tonks to let him come to her. Therefore, he was going to have to confront her, not the other way around. But, secretly, he wished Tonks would just approach him and get it over with. He was dying without her.
It infuriated Charlie that Tonks now seemed ambivalent about him. She would pass him in the stairways, her face devoid of emotion. It was so unlike her to be emotionless.
Her face had really changed – it unsettled Charlie that he had missed the cause of the change. She looked how he felt. Her usual cheerful, glowing expression had been replaced with a lifeless one. She had large, dark purple circles under her eyes and her usual brightly coloured spiky hair had become wavy and mousy brown. She didn't answer back in class the way she normally did and didn't talk to anyone anymore. He wondered how on earth she would have received a detention, from McGonagall of all people. She had been behaving how the teachers had begged of her for years – quiet, polite and hard working. And now all they wanted was the normal Tonks back, because they didn't like the new Tonks anymore than Charlie did.
The most worrying thing was that Charlie rarely saw her at mealtimes anymore. He knew of her passion for food and it was highly out of character for her to be missing meals. Her prominent cheekbones appeared to have shrunken, and her face was bony and gaunt. Even her clothes seemed to hang looser than they had before.
Charlie almost skipped out of Transfiguration, he was so happy. The other Gryffindors looked at him in a mixture of disgust and gratitude. Charlie didn't notice. He had decided he would talk to Tonks and make things better, no matter what.
"Albus, I'm sure you have noticed the increasingly concerning behaviour of Nymphadora Tonks during these past months. I believe I now know the cause." Professor McGonagall spoke in hushed tones to the Headmaster, Dumbledore, her eyes darting wildly.
"Yes, the transformation has been alarming to say the least. Usually such a charming, energetic girl – when she is not in detention, of course." He gave McGonagall a knowing look, his eyes twinkling. "Have her parents been notified?"
"Of course. I owled them when I was first notified of the change. They say they do not know the reason of her sudden depression, either, but they confirmed several rumours I have heard... even after everything she's gone through, Weasley refuses to approach her..." she muttered, her eyes dark.
"Charlie Weasley is the reason for her depression?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows raising.
"Indeed. They are – were – close friends. Surely, Albus, you knew that?"
"Of course. But I underestimated Nymphadora, as I often do, it would seem. Were they simply friends, or was there... something more?"
McGonagall blushed. "Oh, Albus, how am I to know? I assure you that they were very good friends, best friends to say the least – but of more than that I do not know. I've heard the rumours, of course, each one more ludicrous than the next... but they're a bit young for that, aren't they?"
"Ah, but age is just a number, dear Minerva, and has no effect on the wisdom or the maturity of the soul. Forgive me for asking, I did not mean to sound so insensitive. So, you decided the best way to get them back together again was to put them both in detention together? I can't imagine Nymphadora was being rude in class in her current state."
"Oh, of course not. She hasn't given even a hint of cheek since that morning." Her eyes flashed to the Headmaster's face, revealing she was hiding something from him. It did not go unnoticed.
"Care to share, Minerva?"
"Albus, I've just heard rumours from the students, just gossip..." she hesitated, waiting for approval to continue. He nodded, so she began, "Apparently at three in the morning, Tonks morphed herself into Bill Weasley, and woke Charlie up in that form. He dragged her outside, and yelled at her for a good ten minutes, before telling her not to talk to him. She's been this way ever since." There was an awkward silence.
"Hmm. That sounds unlikely, but who are we to know? The question is, can they forgive each other?" Dumbledore chuckled darkly. "Who knew we would be plotting for Nymphadora Tonks and Charlie Weasley, the two biggest troublemakers since James Potter and Sirius Black, to back together again." His expression was sombre, but eyes were twinkling mercilessly.
Charlie showed up at Hagrid's hut half an hour early, hoping to talk to Tonks before their detention. She wasn't there.
"Charlie, yer early." Hagrid said gruffly. "Well, yeh can start now, I guess. I'll need yeh to feed the Barabull. Yer better take off yer shirt – they don't like red."
"Hagrid, you know I usually don't mind with the dangerous creatures – in fact, I rather like them – but you want me to feed a beast that doesn't like red? Did it ever occur to you that I have red hair?" Charlie asked incredulously.
"Oh... yeah. Tha's alright, I suppose... never mind." Hagrid seemed lost in thought. Charlie sighed and took off his shirt. At that very moment Tonks appeared next to him. Merlin, he thought, she moves like a ghost these days.
She stopped in her tracks, looking stunned. Charlie felt very self conscious.
"Tonks, I – hi." He finished lamely.
"Hi." She almost whispered.
Hagrid cleared his throat, making the two jump. "Well, I'll... er, let you two get to it. If yeh need any help..." he left the sentence hanging. Hagrid walked back into his hut, muttering under his breath and shaking his head.
They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Charlie looked at Tonks like she was his personal saviour – she had never seemed as beautiful to him as she did in that moment, even if she appeared to have two very painful black eyes and was caked in dirt. Tonks simply stared at Charlie, her face emotionless. Her thoughts, however, were crashing around wildly in her head, as they usually did.
"Well, we'd better get started." Charlie said awkwardly.
"I suppose so." Tonks whispered, her voice cracking as if she hadn't used it in a long time.
It wasn't long before they both were exhausted and sweaty. It was no easy thing to feed a Barabull, as they discovered. Hagrid emerged from his hut, smelling of petrol and still looking distracted, saying "Yeh can go now, yeh've done enough." He quickly went back into his house and slammed the door.
Tonks sagged slightly on her feet from the fumes. Charlie grabbed her just in time, catching her around the waist before she fell completely. She curled into his sweaty chest, which caked with dirt and still bare, mumbling, "Mmm, Charlie." Charlie felt his heart leap and smiled for the first time in months.
He picked Tonks up, as gently as he could, and carried her in his arms back up to the castle. Even after the hours of hard physical labour, he didn't feel strained or tired at all. In fact, he felt full of life and energy. The hours of practising Quidditch in his backyard had left his muscles tones and firm, even if they weren't overly-big like Bill's.
He managed to make his way up to the Hospital Wing without dropping her, thankfully, and as carefully as he could, dumped her on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, muttering about detentions.
After she had appropriately cleaned Tonks up, she looked at Charlie (still shirtless), and said, "You may go."
"But – can I, please can I stay with her?" he asked. His feeling of ridiculous vulnerability had nothing to do with his clothing.
Madam Pomfrey gazed seriously at him for a long time with twinkling eyes, and finally said, "Oh, all right, just this one, but you'd better not wake her! She needs her rest."
"Thank you." Charlie said sincerely.
After another long stare at the pair of them, she left, leaving Charlie alone with Tonks, who had already fallen into a deep slumber, still clutching his hand.
He sat there all night, on a small armchair next to her bed, tracing small circles into the back of her hand, or brushing her pale, sorbet pink hair behind her ears. She slept peacefully, except for the occasional sigh of "Charlie."
