DISCLAIMER: Argh. -dodges rotten fruits- I apologize for the atrociously long wait between updates. -dodges more fruits- I don't really have too great an excuse, except that life and/or depression can be an expletive deleted sometimes. Bleh. I need a smoothie. -Reviewers are sympathetic and hand her a smoothie- Ah. Thank you. On that same note, I apologize for not being so diligent as usual in answering your wonderful reviews. But know I treasure them all the way an English major treasures metaphors. (Mmmm, metaphors.) And FYI: I'm not JKR in disguise. Sorry.
DEDICATION: This chapter's dedicated to isabelle, because I read her really nice review and started feeling all bad about not updating. So huggbees for her!
It Falls to the Young Chapter XX:
Magic and Wizards and Dragons and Princesses and Everybody Lives Happily Ever After The End
Very, very, very, very, very, very bored. Bored, bored, bored.
"Bored, bored, bored," Nymphadora repeated aloud, just in case that made life more interesting. It didn't.
She had drawn five pictures, played Deep Dark Cave beneath the bed, built a Hogwarts castle out of Remus' textbooks, tied all of Sirius' socks together, had a long conversation with Kitty and counted to a hundred twice. And Mrs. Potter was still talking.
Something interesting was going on. Something interesting was always going on whenever Professor Albus came, and whenever Professor Albus came someone always told Nymphadora to go play somewhere else. And Severus—Sev-ER-us, not Sev-RUS, which she knew now because she was six and a big girl—was hurt and she didn't know if he was okay. Mrs. Potter said he was, but she didn't sound very sure. And now Mrs. Potter was talking to Professor Albus in the library with the door open; they would catch Nymphadora if she tried to go see Severus but she still needed to know if he was okay.
She sighed and flopped backwards on James' bed. It wasn't fair at all.
Kitty was bored too.
"What do you want to do, Kitty?"
Kitty wanted to play Treasure-Hunting.
"Okay. Where do you think the treasure is?" She slid off the bed onto James' school trunk. "Ohhh, look—a treasure chest. Open it, Kitty! Alamo-hora!"
Using both hands, Nymphadora was just able to pry open the lid. It fell back onto the bed, narrowly missing Kitty's tail.
"Hmm. You know what this could be? This could be the Hidden Treasure of Merlin! Let's see..." Nymphadora leaned deep into the trunk, digging through its contents.
"Here's some secret old magic books..." Fantastic Creatures and Where to Find Them joined Intermediate Transfiguration and Quidditch Through the Ages in an undignified heap on the floor.
"And here's the—gasp—the Evil Quill of Bad Evilness, oh no... and Merlin's favorite set of Gobstones... Look, Kitty! Royal Princess Quidditch Gear!"
Three minutes later Nymphadora was covered in a variety of oversized Quidditch equipment and preening in front of the bathroom mirror. "Now the Royal Highness Princess Nymphadora will go give a speech to the people!" But not yet. Something wasn't right.
Kitty knew what was wrong: she needed a cloak.
Nymphadora was standing on James' bed preparing to pull off the sheets when she spotted an even better cloak in the treasure chest. As she pulled it out her eyes sparkled in delight; it was so soft, and so shiny silver...
"Look at how pretty I am in this shiny cloak." Nymphadora hummed contently, wrapping her treasure around her shoulders as she headed back to the bathroom to admire herself.
Needless to say, she was quite surprised to see only her head floating in the mirror.
After a few minutes of experimentation Nymphadora decided to attempt a breakout with her new cloak. I have Quidditch armor so I should be safe, she reasoned. The door hinges squeaked as she tiptoed into the hallway, so she decided to leave the door open. That was just as well, because halfway to her destination she realized Kitty was still sitting on the treasure chest. After retrieving her companion, she tiptoed carefully past the library for the third time and continued into the kitchen.
There was no one there.
Think, Nymphadora. What would Melina Moon, Unspeakable Investigator do? Dad had read Nymphadora all twenty-three Melinda Moon books, and Melinda's owl Cato—who was secretly an Animagus spy for the bad guys until he fell in love with Melinda and renounced all evil, as detailed in book seventeen—always gave her the same advice: look for Clues.
Look for Clues. Clues, Clues, Clues... There were actually quite a few. Five half-eaten breakfasts remained on the table, cold and hard. There was soot on the floor. One of the dining chairs was pulled out from the table and surrounded by assorted objects, including a bowl full of something gooey that Nymphadora knew was probably a potion and therefore a Promised-Not-To-Touch, which made investigating it more difficult.
Unfortunately, none of the Clues made sense. So Nymphadora decided to go look for Severus where he'd always been before: in the cellar. She heard voices through the open door and tiptoed down the stairs sneakily like Melinda would.
Severus was in the cellar. So were Mummy, Daddy, Sirius, Remus and James. Mummy and Daddy were cooking a potion, and Sirius and James and Remus seemed to be helping. Severus was on the bed behind them and Nymphadora couldn't tell if he was awake or not. But I can tiptoe super sneakily around and see.
She made it to the table without incident and would have been perfectly fine had Sirius not chosen that precise moment to stand up with a large beaker of something in his hands. Her eyes widened; she tried to back away but tripped on the cloak, a collision seemed imminent...
"STOP!" Severus shouted. All activity in the room froze. "Don't move, Sirius; you're about to trip over Nymphadora," he finished hastily. Did the magic invisibleness wear off? she wondered.
"Nymphadora?" Daddy exclaimed, twisting in his seat. "Where?" No, Daddy can't see me, but Severus sure can. He was looking right towards her, index finger beckoning her forward. Nymphadora sighed. I'm in big trouble now. She climbed onto the bed beside Severus, who pulled the cloak off her head and seemed startled by her appearance.
"Nymphadora!" Mum said. "Why aren't you with Mrs. Potter?"
"Hey, that's my Quidditch gear!" James interrupted. "She's got my Quidditch gear!"
Severus continued to stare at her, one eyebrow raised. "Care to explain?"
"I wanted to see if you were okay but Mrs. Potter said no. Then me and Kitty searched for the Hidden Treasure of Merlin in the treasure chest, and that's where we found the magic cloak of invisibleness and the Royal Princess Quidditch Gear—" Severus' face began contorting into odd shapes. "Are you okay?" she asked in her most concerned voice.
That was too much. Severus fell back onto the bed and burst out laughing. Remus and Sirius and Dad laughed too, and even Mum couldn't keep herself from joining in. James alone was scowling, arms crossed in defiance. "It wasn't that funny," he protested.
"R-Royal—Princess—Quidditch—Gear—" Sirius choked out before succumbing to another laughing fit.
Ten minutes later the potion-making continued to progress as before, excepting that Nymphadora was now curled up at Severus' side—minus the cloak of invisibleness and a half-dozen pieces of sporting equipment—and Severus still snickered uncontrollably every time Sirius mentioned Quidditch.
She had not heard Severus laugh before. It was an interesting sound, not unpleasant, like bells choked with dust from a long lack of use. She suspected that his laughter had contributed to her amazingly fortunate not-in-trouble state of existence.
Nymphadora stifled a yawn. It was warm in the cellar, from the fires blazing beneath the mantel and cauldrons. Mum had said she could stay as long as she didn't disturb Severus, but he didn't seem to be doing anything she could disturb; in fact, she'd heard Mum tell him specifically not to do anything whatsoever, just to rest. How can you disturb someone who isn't doing anything?
But there was one thing Severus could do without doing anything whatsoever, and that was talk in her mind. He'd only done that in her dream before, and Nymphadora thought it was the neatest thing since chocolate frogs. She yawned again.
Tired, Nymphadora?
She had gone to bed a little bit later than she was supposed to. Or maybe it had been really later. It might have been really later, she admitted.
Maybe you should go to sleep then, he suggested, a hint of his amusement tickling her mind.
That actually didn't sound too bad. She could sleep here; Severus would keep the tall dark mask-monsters away like he had in her dream. Nymphadora nodded slightly. Okay. Now tell me a bedtime story.
Excuse me?
A bedtime story! How can anyone go to sleep without a bedtime story?
Nymphadora waited through almost a whole minute of barely endurable silence before Severus answered. What kind of story?
Oh, one about magic and wizards and dragons and princesses and everybody lives Happily Ever After The End.
Hmmm. Well then. Once upon a time in a faraway castle called... Hogwarts, there lived a princess named Nymphadora Tonks...
Severus heard, from what felt like a far distance, the familiar chime of the cellar clock acknowledging midnight. Less familiar were the light, gentle snores of the pillow on his right. And he didn't recall ever encountering a pillow with pigtails.
He reached into his sleeve for his wand and discovered he was wearing pajamas. Groping blindly towards the nightstand, Severus' fingers found their accustomed grip on the birch wood. "Lumos," he whispered. A tiny speck of light flared at the tip of his wand—just enough to see in the dark.
He was indeed in the cellar. The snores came from Nymphadora, not a pillow, and instead of a table covered in potions there was an armchair in the middle of the room, upon which Ted Tonks slept soundly enough to put Moony to shame. I remember... Nymphadora and a story and I must have fallen asleep. A thought struck Severus: his arm, where he'd searched for his wand... it was no longer bandaged. Did they finish? Did it work? He sat unmoving for a moment, wondering if he dared hope—then ripped his sleeve up and shone his wand on... his skin.
Just his skin. Raw and tingling, a bit swollen—but still skin. No Dark Mark.
He was in awe. In awe of whatever kind fate had granted him this one, glorious moment he'd never dared wish for. A tear slid down his cheek and Severus noted absent-mindedly that he'd cried more in the past two weeks then in the past two years. Dumbledore would probably approve, he decided with a tolerant grin and roll of his eyes. He'd smiled more, too. And laughed... Nymphadora made me laugh. I suppose I owe her one—Royal Princess Quidditch Gear, indeed.
Hmmm? Severus?
He noticed too late that the snores had ceased. Go back to sleep, Nymphadora.
I don't think you ever finished my story.
I did; you just fell asleep. The wizard and the dragon tied the chess match, Princess Nymphadora started up a shelter for stray kneezles, the castle was saved, and they all lived Happily—
—Ever After The End.
Yes. Now go back to sleep.
Severus? You tell really good stories.
He blinked. Well, that's not something I was previously aware of.
You should tell that one to Sirius. He likes stories too.
Severus cringed. No, I think actually this one should stay between you and me. Purple-spotted unicorns and all.
Really? Like a secret? We could have a secret club! We could call it Nymphadora and Severus' Secret Club Keep Out That Means You. Except I think we should let Sirius in. And Remus and James. And Kitty. And Professor Albus. And maybe Mum and Dad if they want...
Why don't we stick with just this one secret. That might be too many for me to take.
Hmmm—okay.
Nymphadora was quiet for an extraordinarily long time. Severus assumed she was asleep and was attempting to drop off himself when she continued:
But I have to tell you a secret too otherwise it isn't fair.
Go ahead.
It's a big secret. I've never told anyone before. Promise not to tell Mum and Dad? Super-double potion-bubble erumpent-trouble promise?
I promise.
Good because it is Not Allowed. Mum and Dad say it's against the rules to do magic like you until I go to Hogwarts.
You'd need a wand, anyway, he reminded her.
That's why this secret is so secret. Cause I can do magic on purpose, and I don't have a wand.
Severus sat up and stared at the six-year-old in front of him. There was no hint of deceit in her mind. What kind of magic? he asked, chancing a bit more light from the Lumos spell.
Just one kind. But it's a lot of fun for dress-up. See? Nymphadora clenched her eyes shut and he could feel her concentrating; he heard a distinct pop and the girl in front of his eyes was now sporting long, red, curly hair instead of brown pigtails.
Nymphadora Tonks was a Metamorphmagus.
Oy. Hope you enjoyed it! (I rather like this chapter.) One final announcement: none of my reviewers, apparently, know the lyrics to "I'm a tugboat call me Mel." Shame on you. The first person to guess right wins... uh... some extra oxygen or something. I'll fax it to you.
The Stupid Questions:
What was funny? What was gooey? What would look good at a wedding reception? What would be hardest to import into Tokyo? How would this chapter be different if it was set in Antarctica? Is Nymphadora cool or what? And what do you think will happen next...?
Huggbees, all.
P.S. Almost forgot to add: I did, I did get my grubby little hands on the scholarship... -snickers evilly and retreats into background, rubbing hands together-