Author's Note: Context: this absolutely wild thing is happening in the Hogwarts writing forum called Auction, where the house teams bid on rando prompts. Ravenclaw got "Scenario: Narcissa was disowned instead of Andromeda," and… well, here I am, obviously making it about these two. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Hogwarts: Assignment #2, DIY and Home Repair Task #1: Write about a connection or combination of something that makes things better. (Chose: Write about a connection that makes things better)

Beta and cheerleader: Aya Diefair

Warnings: Terminal illness; injuries; canon-compliant discrimination; arranged marriages; disownment

This week's AU: Pureblood!AU (inspired by the prompt "Scenario: Narcissa was disowned instead of Andromeda")

Some Colours Are In The Rules

Shacklebolt knocked on the door of the rundown cabin a second time. Nymphadora chewed on the inside of her cheek impatiently, doing her best to keep her impatience discreet. Out of all the tedious and mind-numbing work the Auror Office could assign, this was her least favourite errand to run, though she of course wouldn't dare to show any sign of it.

The cottage's owner opened the door soon after. He was older than she was, yes, but she was sure that he was younger than he looked. His aging looked premature, and it definitely was not helped by the black and blue bruises on the side of his face. He was using a pair of crutches to get around too, and Nymphadora noticed a thick bandage wrapped around his right leg.

"Remus John Lupin?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

"Yes," he said.

Kingsley raised the Auror badge that was hanging around his neck.

"We're just here doing a routine post-Full Moon check," Kingsley said. It was part of the new werewolf registry bill; Aurors were to ensure that lycanthropes were at their registered addresses the day after the full moon, that way they could better track their activities and ensure compliance with Dolores Umbridge's bill.

"Yes, I'm here," Remus said simply. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Aurors?"

"That is all, Mr Lupin," Nymphadora said. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"I'm home," Nymphadora called into the house when she closed the front door behind her. Dobby the house elf appeared soon after and bowed deeply.

"Welcome home, Mistress Malfoy," Dobby said. "May I take your cloak."

"Thank you," Nymphadora said, shrugging the garment off. She wanted to peel out of her work clothes; the wool skirt was hot and her blouse felt restrictive. But first, she had to find her mother.

"Yes Mistress," Dobby said. "The other Mistress Malfoy is in her study."

"Thank you Dobby," Nymphadora said. "Will you bring us tea?"

"Yes Mistress," Dobby said, bowing again. Nymphadora walked past him and climbed the steps to Malfoy Manor, hiking up her skirt.

She peered into the study, where her mother was curled up in an armchair by the window with a thick book. Nymphadora knocked on the door and her mother looked up, a beautiful smile on her face.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," her mother said, putting down the book. Her brown hair was tied back in a loose chignon which cleared her face, pale and tired as it had been for the last few weeks.

Nymphadora crossed the room, the heels on her boots clicking against the ground. She leaned down and kissed her mother's cheek.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked.

"I am feeling wonderful," her mother said. "How was work?"

"Work was fine," Nymphadora said. "Boring. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You look pale."

"I am feeling nostalgic, if anything," her mother said with a smile. "Would you do me a favour and fetch a box in the attic for me? I'm looking for an old photo album and can't seem to find it here."

"Of course," Nymphadora said. She made a mental note of her mother's description of the box and kissed the top of her head again before going. "I had Dobby bring up some tea, by the way. Please drink it, the Healers say that the blackberry leaf will do you well."

"Very well," her mother said.

The evening was uneventful; she fetched her mother's box, washed up before dinner, indulged in one of Dobby's delicious roasts, and then played half a game of chess with her mother before she became too tired and needed to be walked back to bed.

"You're too good to me," her mother said with a smile.

"Call me if you need anything else," Dora said. She had lost her father to Dragon Pox years ago; she was not going to lose her mother to whatever this strange ailment was now.

"Thank you, sweetheart," her mother said.

Then, Nymphadora was alone in the house. Alone and bored. There was a letter from Auntie Bella and Uncle Rodolphus to open, but letter-writing was about as boring as being alone anyways, so Nymphadora didn't mind it. Besides, if Auntie Bella was writing to tell her the news about the Lestrange cousins, Nymphadora already knew. The grapevine and the rumour mill were unforgiving and swift.

She walked back to her room; if she went to bed early, she could get up early and squeeze in some time at the Auror Office's dueling range before work. That would be something, at least. She and Kingsley had managed to track down most of the werewolves on their list and the others they had signaled to the Department for the Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures, but there had been no surprise. It had been the usual suspects, Fenrir Greyback and his pack. They had been missing last month and they would be missing next month too, there would be no surprise there. As she thought back to last month's checks, actually, she did seem to remember Remus Lupin. He had looked unwell then too—his leg hadn't been bandaged, but he had had an arm in a sling. That was curious.

Nymphadora chewed her lip as she thought about it, wondering how an apex predator such as a werewolf managed to get hurt. Lost in her thought, she didn't notice the little brown book on the floor. Clumsy as ever, she tripped on it. She cursed under her breath, a very unladylike slip she was thankful her mother hadn't heard, and reached out to pick up the book that had flown across the hall and landed broken-spined, wide open against the floor. Nymphadora breathed a sigh of relief when a quick check confirmed that no pages had been bent.

That cursory check allowed her to see a glimpse of what it was—an old journal. She recognized her mother's careful and perfectly formed penmanship across the pages, and the dates placed the entries during her mother's seventh year.

Nymphadora didn't mean to read, but she did.

It took a few knocks before the cottage door was opened, most likely because Remus John Lupin had needed to limp across the room to reach the door. He paled a bit when he saw her.

"Hello, Madam Auror," he said with a voice that was cool and steady nonetheless. "Is there an issue?"

"I was conducting a wellness check," she said. "You looked unwell yesterday."

The werewolf relaxed but still seemed at a loss.

"I… well, thank you," he sputtered. "I, ah…"

"Do you need anything?" Nymphadora asked again.

Remus looked away sheepishly and looked behind him, scanning the contents of the cottage which seemed sparse but cozy enough.

"I wasn't able to chop more firewood yesterday," he finally said. "I always make sure I have what I need from the village before a full moon, but firewood I… I can usually manage."

"I'll see to it," Nymphadora said.

And she did. It would have been easy enough to do by magic, but Nymphadora found an axe where Remus stored his wood—in a small shelter covered by a tarp to keep it dry, so she split the wood herself. It was good, hard work that cleared her mind and made her muscles hum. A good distraction from the fall Mum had taken that morning.

She brought the wood back inside and Remus tripped over his own thanks.

"I… I don't have anything to repay you with," he said.

"You don't need to repay me," Nymphadora said. "I became an Auror to help people."

Remus didn't respond to that, just bit his lip. Then he frowned.

"Your eyes, I…"

"What about them?" Nymphadora asked, possibly more defensively than she needed to. Remus blushed.

"Nothing, I simply… I could have sworn that they were green yesterday," he said.

Nymphadora sighed and closed her eyes for a second, gently willing them to shift back to their natural shade. Sometimes, when she worried about someone, her abilities got the best of her and she took on some of their features. In this case, most likely her mother's chocolatey brown eyes. It wasn't too devastating of a slip, but Nymphadora liked being consistent. Her father had told her to pick a face and stick to it when she'd been small.

"You must be a Metamorphmagus," Remus said.

"I am," Nymphadora admitted.

"Fascinating," Remus asked. "I—I've never met someone with your gift."

"It comes in handy during undercover work," Nymphadora said simply.

"I can only imagine," he said. "May I ask you a question, if you don't mind? I always wondered where the limits of a Metamorphmagus' transformations lied. I know where mine are, but yours include so much choice… are you able to access colours and features different from typical human pigmentation? What colours can you actually call forth?"

"I'm not sure," Nymphadora said. She had never tried. "Will this be enough firewood to last you for today?"

Remus nodded.

"Yes, and for tomorrow morning, most likely," Remus said. "By then, the healing spells should have restored my leg."

"You must know a lot of healing magic, then," Nymphadora said.

"Some," Remus said.

"Full moon injuries must be quite common," she said.

"Not particularly, other than the occasional scratch or blistered foot," Remus said. "I'm somewhat atypical. I contain myself during transformations."

"You do?" Nymphadora asked. She frowned. "How?"

"With great difficulty and a very good knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts," Remus said. "Being alone and in a contained space increases the risk that I end up hurting myself."

"Oh," Nymphadora said. "Oh, I… I see."

She looked at the pile of firewood that she had left by the fireplace.

"I will come back tomorrow morning," she said. "Just in case."

Journal,

The Room of Requirement was good to us again last night. Ted had brought butterbeer and biscuits, since his common room is so close to the kitchens, and the room provided is with the comfiest chair I have ever sat on as if it knew we would be reading more poetry. To be fair, the chair was quite narrow but I didn't mind. Ted is one of those people I can never get close enough to.

I tried speaking to Narcissa again, before I left the Common Room for the evening. Bella asked me to. Apparently Cissa isn't writing to her or back home anymore. She was evasive and quiet with me too, which is so unlike her. I'll try talking to her again tomorrow before writing back to Bella, maybe it was just a bad time. I do hope she is alright.

Other than that, there's a kind of madness passing through the entire seventh year cohort that's made it impossible to have a normal conversation. Everybody is scrambling to think about what they'll do next year and where they'll go after school. Ted and I have both finished our applications for healer training; ideally we'll get in at St. Mungo's, but I think my parents would allow me to go train elsewhere as long as I'm not too far from London. I'm excited for the chance to go, even if I'm just as nervous as everybody else, but I'm happy that the application is sent and done now. It's left us with more time for poetry.

Andromeda

"Nymphadora," a weak voice croaked.

She woke up all at once, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her head, jolting awake in the armchair at her mother's bedside.

"Yes, Mother?" she asked.

"Go to bed," her mother said simply. Her voice and breath was still wheezing and croaking and weak.

"I'm perfectly alright here," her mother promised. "I'll sleep better if I know you're in your own bed."

"And I won't sleep at all if I'm not here for you," she replied.

"You're so very stubborn," her mother said, though she said it lovingly.

"Yes, mother," Nymphadora said. "Goodnight."

"You don't have to keep doing this," Remus said. He was sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him while Nymphadora removed a meat pie from his oven.

"I know," Nymphadora said. She settled the pie on the counter and fanned it with a dish towel. "It just doesn't seem right to leave you alone when you're not well."

"I'm not well every month," Remus said. This month in particular, he had woken up with a gash in his arm, a headache, blurred vision, and an intense dizziness. Years ago, Nymphadora had gotten concussed during a sting operation and she suspected that Remus had somehow concussed himself overnight, but he was refusing to go to St. Mungo's. She had taken over his attempt at cooking since.

"That doesn't mean you deserve less help," Nymphadora said.

Journal,

We were bold today, bolder than usual. We snuck out of the castle after curfew and lay in the poppy fields that Professor Jardinière is growing by the greenhouses. We had an incredible view of the stars and he pointed out the constellation 'Andromeda,' the one that my name must come from. We got to breathe fresh air and laugh out loud together. It was incredible. I can't believe that it was the first time that we got to do that together, but we've got to hide so often. I can't believe that it was the first time I was outside holding hands with this boy and I told him that I loved him and he said I loved him too. I can't believe I'm still smiling about it.

Andromeda

"Before you go—there's something by the door for you," Remus called. He was sitting by the warmth of the fireplace, a blanket across his lap and a cool compress against his injured eye.

Nymphadora froze as she walked and looked. There was a loaf of bread wrapped in a tea towel and a jar of blackberry jam.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A thank you gift," Remus said.

"You don't have to thank me," Nymphadora said automatically.

"Please, Madam Auror," Remus said. "It seems quite evident to me that you have gone above and beyond the call of duty, insofar as I'm concerned."

Nymphadora hesitated, but her grandmother's voice in her head reminded her of whatever etiquette lesson she had been at when she'd been told never to decline a gift lest she insult the giver.

"Thank you," she said politely. "This is very kind."

Still, she didn't know how to explain the appearance of fresh bread and jam to her mother, so she passed the gifts on to Dobby. It made him happy enough.

She realized later that the thought was so sweet, it made her happy too.

Journal,

Ted showed me a picture of his family today, so it was a little bit as if I got to meet them. His little brother and all four of his sisters were in the frame, as were his parents. I wish I had been able to see them move—how they wink, how they smile, all the little things like that, but it was a Muggle photograph, of course…

Dora looked up from the journal one moment. A Muggle…

She chewed on her lip and then flipped through the pages of the journal, trying to connect the dots in her head. She supposed that her mother had never written down this Ted's last name or his house or anything at all, which meant that maybe…

Still, her mother? Sneaking about the castle and falling in love with a Muggleborn boy?

It didn't feel real to her. It felt like it couldn't be real. Her mother was as even, regular, and perfect as clockwork. She beat as she should, when she should, how she should. She had shown Nymphadora a world of etiquette and behaviour and propriety. There was a reason Nymphadora was such a good Auror—she was good at understanding systems, at seeing how they worked from within and from afar, at finding patterns, of knowing what people expected of her or the world and of using it to her advantage. Really, it was just another facet of being a good pureblood girl.

This version of her mother did not fit in her world.

"I can't believe you volunteered for this shit," Dedalus Diggle said as they walked away from the run-down apartment building where they'd gone to find Fiona Hawkins, 32 years old, werewolf since 1986.

"I don't mind it," Nymphadora said. They ducked into an alley so that they wouldn't be seen by Muggles and apparated to their next destination.

Nymphadora actually smiled when she saw the little run-down cottage.

I barely had time to pinch my journal from under my mattress; that's how quickly I had to pack. One moment I was in potions and the next my parents were pulling me out of school.

It was worse than Bella and I thought, with Narcissa. She wasn't worried about whether or not McGonagall would let her stay in her NEWT-level class or sad about her owl getting sick or anything we might have imagined. No, she was pregnant! Well, she is pregnant. I could hardly believe it. Apparently Madam Pomfrey has known for ages and has been helping her along. Diana Mulciber overheard something at the infirmary a few days ago, and news travels so fast amongst the Sacred Twenty-Eight that the news got back to our parents.

I don't know why they pulled me out of school along with her. Since we've been home, I've been under strict instructions to stay in my room. I haven't so much as spoken to Narcissa since I found out. I've heard the yelling and the shouting and the crying, but it's gone quiet now. I wonder where she is. I wonder if they've stopped yelling because they're past the anger and because they're helping her, now.

I can't believe my little sister's life changed so entirely and I didn't even see it.

"You didn't have to personally escort me," Nymphadora told Alastor Moody.

The old Auror made a grumpy noise.

"You're young," he said. "Still got something to prove. I'm old and stuffy, and I'll make sure you get to a proper Healer."

Nymphadora would have rolled her eyes if she was the kind of girl who rolled her eyes. She had simply fallen the wrong way while she and Kingsley were going through a routine dueling drill. Her ankle was twisted, and it was Auror Office regulation that a healer from St. Mungo's be the one to fix it. Really, Nymphadora thought that she may even be able to fix it herself. Remus had shown her some of the spells he knew. Still, regulation was regulation.

True to Moody's word and the fuss he'd kicked up, it wasn't long until a Healer in lime green robes entered the examination room with her file under his arm. He was an older man with salt-and-pepper hair that was still brown in places, with soft brown eyes and a kind, open face. He stopped whistling as he swung into her room and offered them a smile.

"Nymphadora, yes?" he asked. "Hello, I'm Healer Tonks—you can call me Ted."

Nymphadora's blood froze. She remembered the words she'd read from her mother's diary, weeks ago now. She tried not to read too much of the journal, she knew it was wrong, but she snatched snippets of it from time to time when she couldn't resist conjuring a young, healthy, and happy version of her mother. The words came back to her; Ted and I have both finished our applications for healer training; ideally we'll get in at St. Mungo's…

"Malfoy," Moody barked. "You weren't hit in the head, were you? The healer's talking to you."

Nymphadora snapped out of her stupor.

"Pardon me," she said.

"That's alright," the healer said kindly. He peeked at her file again. "It says here that you had a training accident, down at the Ministry?"

"Yes, that's right," Nymphadora said. "I can… I can be quite clumsy."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Ted Tonks said sympathetically. "Accidents happen. Now let's have a look at that ankle to see how swiftly we can get you home, Madam Auror."

Journal,

Mother and Father came to see me today, somber and with Bella in tow. I sat up in bed and closed my book and they said that they had found a way to lessen the humiliation of Narcissa's situation, to fill the gap where she had once been. They said I could lessen it, if I took her place to save the engagement with the Malfoy family. Of course, he was a year younger than I was and so Narcissa had been the preferred match, but a year apart between a couple was nothing to bat an eye about. Nobody would bat an eye at my husband and I. Mother was crying when she took me in her arms, saying how blessed she had been to have a daughter like me, at least. That was when I realized that they had come to ask, but there wasn't really any asking to be done.

When Jedediah Nott was sent to Azkaban and our engagement was terminated, I knew there was an empty place on the family tree where he had been meant to be. I was foolish to think that I would be the one to choose to fill it. I was foolish to even entertain this thing with Ted, which I can only call a 'thing' because what was it, really, other than desperate and foolish? Beautiful. It was beautiful.

I'm too heartbroken to say more.

"I wasn't expecting you," Remus said when he opened the door. His arm was in a sling. It seemed that his right shoulder kept getting dislocated, again and again and again, and never had time to properly heal over the lunar cycle.

"I'm sorry," Nymphadora said. "I… I was expecting to come, I wanted to come, but my mother, she… she's in hospital."

Yesterday. Yesterday, Nymphadora had slept by her mother's side as she always did and her breathing had gotten particularly shallow and worrying. The next day she hadn't been able to drink so much as a sip of water and so Nymphadora had called healers in against her will.

"I'm so sorry," Remus said, brown eyes widening. "Is she..?"

"I don't know," Nymphadora said. "I don't… do you have everything that you need? Are you alright?"

"Yes," Remus said. He blinked. "Yes, I'm quite alright, are you..?"

"That's good," Nymphadora said. They were quiet for a moment. Their script had run out but neither of them were exiting the stage.

"Did you want to come in just for a cup of tea?" Remus offered kindly.

That jolted Nymphadora back to reality. This reality; the one with systems and rules in place.

"No, thank you," she said even if she would happily give an arm for a good cup of tea at this time. "No, I…. I should go."

And so she did, apparating away before Remus had even shut the door.

When she sat at her mother's bedside that day, she brought the brown journal she'd been holding onto for so long.

Andromeda smiled when she saw it.

"I recognize that," she said fondly.

"I read it," Nymphadora said.

Andromeda's eyes widened.

"Don't," Nymphadora said, shaking her head. "I know, I shouldn't have. But I did and there's no taking that back."

Her mother's eyes closed and she took as deep of a breath as she could. It wasn't much. The healers kept saying it wasn't much. They were preparing Nymphadora for the worst, the same way they had done when her father had passed away. She even recognized some of their language and demeanor from her own training on how to break bad news, impossible news, to people.

"I didn't know… everything," Nymphadora said.

"That is the key to a good pureblood family," her mother said, eyes still closed. She looked in pain. "Well-kept secrets."

Nymphadora twisted her hands together.

"Is there anything else I should know?" she finally asked.

Her mother reached out and took her hand.

"I've raised you in the only life I knew," she said. "Not in the… not in the possibilities I could once see between the rules I was given. They would have ruined my life, had I not had you."

Nymphadora swallowed hard. She brought her mother's hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles.

Her mother's exhausted eyes fluttered shut once more.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too," Nymphadora said. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, struggling to regain her composure. "Would you… Mum, would you go back and do it differently?"

"No," her mother said. "I wouldn't change anything that brought you to me. But once you were mine, I… I should have freed you from the boxes I knew. I should have raised you not to mind them, Nymphadora."

"Mum?" Nymphadora asked. Her mother turned her head towards the door, following the sound of Nymphadora's voice.

"Ny…" her mother ran out of breath as she tried to say her name. She simply said, "Dora?"

"Mum, are you up for a visitor right now?"

"Always, sweetheart," she said, forcing a smile onto her exhausted face.

"Not me," Dora said. She looked over her shoulder and motioned for Healer Tonks to join her in the doorframe.

"Andromeda," he said. There was a breathlessness to his voice when he said her name, when he saw her. His face was pale and long and full of worry.

"Ted," she said. "Ted, you…"

"I work here," he said. "Your daughter, she… she found me. She thought you might…"

"Want company," Nymphadora said, to fill in the gaps.

"Y—yes," she said, voice croaking. "Come in."

Ted gave Nymphadora a look and she nodded, so he slipped into the room. He sat at the chair by the bedside that Nymphadora had so often occupied and took her hand.

Nymphadora hovered in the doorway, giving them space. She stepped aside and lurked outside a room, eyes closed and head leaned back against the pale hospital wall.

"You haven't forgotten me," she overheard her mother saying.

"I try... all the time," Ted Tonks replied. "And no, I haven't. I can't."

Nymphadora walked away to give them space. She walked down the hall of St. Mungo's palliative care wing, and found herself alone in the elevator. She apparated from there to the cottage in Yorkshire. She hiked up her skirt and hurried to the door, knocking with more force than was strictly polite.

Remus opened, looking confused as to who was knocking on his door, and then he looked surprised when he saw her. She looked at him for a second before willing her hair the most absolutely ridiculous colour she could think of: hot pink. She wasn't sure if the change had worked, but she pulled the pin from her hair and shook the strands loose. She ran her fingers through her hair like a comb and tugged them over her shoulder, looking down to see if the change had worked.

It had. Her hair was bright pink.

She looked up at Remus and took a deep breath.

"There's your answer," she said. "I… I can do colours that aren't strictly, well, in the rules. Now you know. Well, we both know. Can I come in for tea?"

Remus looked shocked.

"That's not in the rules either, is it?" he asked.

"No," she said. "No, it's not."

Remus nodded and stepped aside.

"I'll put the kettle on," he said.

Shipping Wars

Word count: 4614

Ship (Team): Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks (Technicolour Moon)

List (Prompt): Summer Medium 1 (Love Letters)