I've never been a big Remadora fan, but I don't hate them either and writing out a couple of almost- and then the meet cute did amuse me. Hope you enjoy.
1
"Mommy?" The little girl's hair was its natural mousy brown color and tousled with sleep, but her eyes were bright blue and alert as she held something behind her back and watched the door where the man had left, he hadn't even looked at her. His eyes hadn't looked at much of anything as he spoke quietly before leaving hastily. "Who was that?"
"Oh Nymphadora, I didn't realize you'd gotten up." Andromeda smiled at the sight of her daughter, moving on instinct to pick her up, shield her from the world and holding tight. "What have you got there sweetie?" She asked quietly, trying to tug the bit of paper away.
"I made a picture," she proclaimed happily, she was still so easily distractible at this age. She showed it off with a flourish and beamed as her mothers watery eyes found the sloppy image, a black dog like shape chasing the toddler in her new dress that was bright yellow. Andromeda snatched it away and folded it hastily, while her daughter pouted. "You don't like it? Uncle Siri-"
"I love it honey, of course," she pressed her only child right to her heart as she carried her back to bed. Her daughter need never know she would burn it along with any other evidence of their past connection to the Black family after the latest's deeds had been blasted across the paper. "Uncle Siri went on a trip though, and he won't be back for a while," her voice broke, the news Remus had delivered of the fast sentencing still didn't feel real.
It was what he deserved she kept telling herself, pushing away that toast he'd made at their wedding, the way he'd held Nymphadora! Even Bellatrix could never be so cold hearted as to manage such a split personality.
"Can't I owl him the picture?" She pouted as she accepted the covers around her once more.
"I'll do it for you," she lied at once. "You just give all that to me honey, I'll make sure he gets them." Ted would have to be warned as soon as possible. She looked one more time at the silly image and tried to keep her voice from shaking too bad, "like the dog star. That's really clever sweetie." Her cousin had always said he hated his name and then made jokes about it for years, how had she not seen this coming?
"So he's not coming over to play again?" Nymphadora's eyes flashed a darker shade of blue as she pouted. "Last time he played with me all night, and he promised he'd bring his own friends over. One of them has a baby, and one of them turns all furry sometimes so he's sick and doesn't like to come, and one-"
"Dora," her mother stroked the side of her face, pushing lightly to get her to lay down. "Come now love, it's bed time. Enough sweetie." Her daughter was complacent at once of course, still squirming in the sheets but appeased for now. She would stop asking about him, she assured herself, this would all just fade away like a bad dream.
2
"To Romanian internships!" Charlie managed to howl louder than the thumping base.
"To seven NEWTs each!" She declared back as they clacked their drinks together and downed the lot. Her hair was neon yellow for the occasion in one last fit of Hufflepuff pride, her eyes changed colors to every pulsing light around them.
They sang the next dozen songs to come on at the top of their lungs and hung on each other in goodbye as they exalted in their future. It was her turn to get the drinks next, and she did so with pride as she forced her way to the bar and hung practically over the filthy, cup lined wood to get his attention, half tempted to take the dregs of the left behinds and put them all in one cup rather than pay these prices.
She finally got her order in and backed away from the smelly bloke that was going to drown her faster than any alcohol with that much aftershave on and backed straight into someone else. "Sorry," she said at once.
"S'alright," his voice slurred terribly. She had to look up a bit to catch sight of his face and couldn't quite make it out, their surroundings kept flashing stark relief and darkness back and forth so fast it was starting to give her a headache and making odd flashes cross his face anyways. She'd swear he streaked his hair some strange color other than the brown it was though.
It was in the air for one small moment as the two tried to get a better look. He smiled, she could tell that much, but it was such a sad thing only half visible, like a chipped mirror. She made to put her hand on his on pure instinct, maybe steer him outside and bum a fag in the fresh air while they got out of this noise for just a moment.
A woman burst onto the pair and grabbed the mans arm, pulling him to the dance floor and slurring her own gibberish as she slopped half their drinks over the pair. He drunkenly went with her, and she started after in concern. What kind of Auror would she be if she just let some stranger get taken advantage of like that, he didn't even seem coherent enough to walk home, let alone keep up with that. Then he grabbed her ass and leaned in to kiss her before accepting his drink and she turned back away.
Still fresh from her multiple detentions in school she'd never have to deal with again, half of which had been for nosing into others business, she firmly reminded herself now what Moody had already tried drilling into her head from his mismatched eyes. You couldn't save everyone.
3
"And you're sure it's a werewolf attack this time?" she asked in exasperation as she scribbled down the notes. "Because the last three times you lot have said that, it's been everything but! I swear, a jarvy bite would set your office off—"
"I swear it, miss," the harassed man from The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures dropped his briefcase full of notes, scattering them across the floor as he barely looked at her. "Orders came straight down from Diggory; we've got a live one! We'll need all bodies on hand."
"Okay, okay," she promised as she gave the message to a waiting owl. It took off and proceeded to leave a white mark on a rather important looking-document as the man stuffed it away, not even seeming to notice.
It was the seventh dead body she'd ever seen, but the youngest by far. The boy was barely thirteen, and ravaged so severely even that would have been impossible to define without the sobbing aunt having to explain. The parents were at St. Mungo's with his little sister; they weren't sure if she'd survive the night; if one could call it that with what her future would hold.
People were bustling in and out of the house like it was aflame; the moon was still waning on the horizon. They hadn't been this close to catching a possible Greyback sighting in years and all the big wigs were in attendance as they pored over every detail of the place.
One man stuck out more than he should. She'd only just passed her final training course by the skin of her ankle, literally. She'd nearly failed her stealth training, but had O'd her observational tasks. The man was tall with light brown hair adorned by odd gray streaks. He stood in the back of the crowd and watched the body, somehow detached from the others. Fudge was talking animatedly to some reporter with elaborate blonde curls sucking on a quill, Scrimgeour was delegating and double-tapping his wand on all spells performed to keep the activity moving, but the man seemed apart from it all and hovered close to Dumbledore of all people. Just quietly standing there as if waiting for someone to turn and blame him any second for these deeds.
The moon's shadows seemed to keep his features sunken and unhealthy as he passed a crumpled bit of paper into her old headmaster's hand and then slipped back out of the room before she could get a close look and make out any features properly. Dumbledore slipped the note into his pocket without looking, and she followed the man impulsively.
He stopped just short of the apparition point and hunched over, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. She stepped even closer in concern and offered a pitiful, "I puked, the first time I saw a dead body. Quite glad I missed lunch, or I might have again." She sounded hoarse enough to her own ears. He wouldn't mistake her for lying.
Turning just enough to see him in profile, she could see him slowly lowering his hands to his side but then backed away even farther from her. She caught the scratchy disuse of his own voice, meaning he may have spilled his guts earlier instead. "It doesn't get easier, but we've got to keep trying." He hunched his shoulders again. She stepped cautiously forward, but he took another step back.
She imagined for a moment what Greyback would have done in this instance when confronted with her offer for help. Tried to eat her, despite the height of his power vanishing for another month. Taken her away to feast on for the whole of his stay as human, as rumored he consumed humans even while not in the wolf body? Here, Dumbledore's friend just looked, sad. She nodded and stayed in place as she understood. "All it can take is someone who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return."
Even the man's laugh sounded exhausted, but she could have sworn she caught a smile in the thicket of darkness. "Wise words from a wise man. You have a good night."
"You as well," she whispered as she turned back to the house.
4
She was sure he'd been listening in since the argument had started, the page of his newspaper had not been flipped while their voices escalated. It was very noisy in the Three Broomsticks, so it's not as if that was the distraction. What really caught her attention though was the small laugh from his corner when she'd called this ponce her mothers particularly favorite swear in Latin.
This idiot was too dense to even seem to recognize he'd been insulted. The chuckle had been soft and unnoticed to the pompous jerk who wouldn't take a hint for the past five minutes and was still trying to coax her into having a drink with him. She liked it, she instantly decided, and wanted to hear it again rather than another second of this grating voice.
One conspicuous glance over only showed his profile, his face was still hidden behind the Prophet with only the hint of his oddly light brown hair, but his head was definitely inclined in their direction, she'd swear it. A man after her own heart really, not trying to swoop in and rescue her, but clearly unwilling to look the other way.
A quick trip to the bathroom should solve both of her problems, she instantly decided, flat ignoring the next words out of this arseholes mouth and just waltzing in. She was very glad she'd done it, she'd been unconsciously blunting her features in frustration. Staring in the mirror with concentration, she smoothed out her square chin to a more heart shape she liked and shortened the nose. Madam Rosmerta came in only moments later and promised she'd kicked the tosser out while she was debating between black curly hair or her favorite bright yellow for this first meeting and she thanked the bartender heartily as she eagerly went back out.
The paper was folded neatly in place on an empty table, a single coin in place as his departure. She pouted she didn't even know what he would have been drinking.
5
"I have a list of people and places we need to be keeping an eye on incase Black makes contact," Scrimgeour stated. "Dawlish, take Godric's Hollow, just in case he wants to go gloating over the dead Potter's, Proudfoot, the street from his original crime, I wouldn't put it past that twisted soul to try laying low there either. Tonks, go find Lupin, an old acquaintance of his-"
"Sir, Dumbledore's just sent owl back," Kingsley weaved his way easily through the different desks. "He's approved of the dementors."
"Good, good, better safe than sorry," their grizzled lead nodded and went back to hashing out assignments while she hastily collected whatever she needed, like the address and whatever information they had on this guy, before apparating.
His home was in Wales, left to him by will of his parents. It was not some long ago, probably useless passing dorm mate to their escaped prisoner who opened the door though, but Albus Dumbledore.
"Hello sir," she smiled brightly in confusion. "Pleasure running into you on such a day."
"Miss Tonks, always a delight," he smiled at her as he closed the door behind him. She frowned and looked anxiously through a window that had the shutters closed.
"Sorry to cut short," she said earnestly, "but I-"
"Yes, I suppose Rufus would have you come interrogate the poor man," Dumbledore agreed sadly. "May I kindly request you go back to him with my confidence he has cut ties with Black long ago. I vouch for him Miss Tonks, he will be employed at my school this year, and he needs his peace as he collects himself for the journey."
"Oh," she rocked on her heels in surprise and immediately regretted this as he had to steady her gently. "Erm, I suppose," she agreed hesitantly. Scrimgeour was big on his paperwork, getting all his I's dotted and T's crossed, but then Dumbledore was in and out of the Ministry so much and had personally had lunch with the man last week she knew. Surely this would be allowed. "Yes sir, if you insist," she nodded.
He beamed at her and gave a sweeping look with those bright blue eyes she smiled back just to see him chuckle again, he looked like he needed it.
1
"I'm not surprised you don't remember me," Sirius promised as she again tried to apologize while Kingsley turned away to be introduced to someone named Elphias Doge. "Merlin, I don't even remember how old you were last time I saw you. I'm not sure I want to know what Andromeda's said back then," he finished with a scowl that was probably more pronounced than usual because of the grim lighting in this house. "Is she coming along?"
"Not officially," Tonks shrugged as she still watched him eagerly for any hint of familiarity. Azkaban had stripped away so much though, she might as well have never met him before, he looked nothing like her mother at all. "She's in the loop but on the outs, if you catch my meaning."
Sirius tutted disapprovingly and shifted impatiently in his seat. He barely looked up at the man coming in and taking a seat next to him, but her attention was instantly diverted from some old second cousin to this stranger.
He had light brown hair with liberal gray streaks in them and weathered skin as lined as Sirius', with the same kind of shadow in his eyes as the escaped prisoner. Older than his years somehow, and he was already at least ten years older than her anyways. There was something there though she instantly found herself leaning into, wondering for the first time in this room if the purple in her hair was a childish color, or maybe not bright enough in fact. He had a light in him, a curiosity as he took her in and offered his hand. Nobody else but Moody and Sirius Black had taken a second look at her because of her youth.
"Tonks," she said at once before he could even ask as she shook his hand firmly.
"Nymphadora Tonks," Sirius added for emphasis even as he kept scowling at the ceiling.
"Not Andromeda's daughter," the man smiled from her to him. "Merlin you've grown up."
"Just Tonks," she corrected with a haughty look for Sirius alone before trying to keep smiling at him, but they were interrupted by Molly Weasley's shouts echoing from up the stairs, "-Extendable Ears? How dare you two, this is the limit I swear-"
"Dinner might be delayed tonight," the gentleman mock whispered to her. "Are you staying though? It'll be worth it, Molly's a great cook."
"I'm sure I can be tempted," she smiled eagerly back, "only of course if I'm not intruding. We haven't even been properly introduced."
"You could never," he laughed, and she instantly grinned along. "Sirius is an awful host, don't mind him. I'm Remus Lupin."