In Which Misery and Parties Meet
-or-
Nymphadora's Disaster
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the Harry Potter universe. I am simply playing with them for my own personal enjoyment.
A scant hour later found Tonks enjoying lunch (her treat) with her confidence coach, Carole, never dreaming that this woman would propose such extreme changes for her. Carole was a petite brunette who had the slightest hint of a Dutch accent, and one of the nicest Muggles Tonks had ever met, her Father and his family excepted, of course. Tonks' nerves were high and her discomfort showed. Carole was and understanding woman though, and knew that Nymphadora was a wealthy eccentric young woman who needed a little guidance in the ways of adulthood – especially when it came to dressing to be noticed, searching for a man, and exuding inner confidence. Besides, at the salary she earned she could afford to be called on such late notice.
"…And as I was sayin'-"
"No, Dora, it's saying, stress that 'g', not sayin'. There is something incredibly beautiful about a cultured woman and proper grammar goes a long way with the public."
"Sorry, Carole."
"You know, I've always wondered how you ended up with such confidence issues. Your family is incredibly well off, you're beautiful and yet you seem to hide in yourself."
"Well, my Mum's family never really approved of my Dad. They're quite well-off, and they're an older family. He wasn't really of her social world and they could never accept him, or me. Naturally, they forbid her to marry him, so they eloped. I've never been well liked by that branch of the family and I think that it bred some fear of being judged in me."
"People still do that? You know, disapprove of marriages and things? Seems very 1700s-esque."
"Well, Mother's family are extremely old fashioned. All the children are named ridiculous names, go to private schools where they all end up in the same houses, it's very posh."
"At least you didn't end up with too bad of a name, Dora."
"Oh, that's just a short form. I'm really called, get this, Nymphadora. Mum was afraid if I didn't get a fancy name like the rest of her family I might be subject to further criticism if I went to the same private school."
Carole was laughing but trying to disguise it, so it seemed that she was choking on the napkin she had over her mouth. "Nymphadora? You're not serious?"
"Oh, I am."
"Well, why did your mother send you to the posh school if she didn't really approve of the way her family operated, not wanting to pry."
"Oh, it's alright. It's just that it's a school for, shall we say "gifted people", and there's only one in England."
"Oh, I see. Arts or sciences? I myself went to a specialty arts school, but I grew up in Belgium."
"Sciences. Right now I'm working as a criminologist."
Carole was about to reply when she saw her watch. "Well, Dora, it's time that we got you ready for this event. Perhaps if we went a little bold an flamboyant, you'd be able to see that attention can be beautiful. Now, to the boutiques!"
"I'm coming Carole," called Tonks as the petite woman paid and strode to her car, her spring jacket blowing open from the light wind.
Some hours later found Tonks back to the hotel where she had booked in for the week until the flat she had rented moved the departing tenants. Imagine her shock when she found one Ginny Weasley waiting on her doorstep, a giant cookbook in hand.
What is she doing here? I haven't seen her in ages… The party! Her old worries returned, but she tried some of Carole's calming breathing and felt it worked. Well, I've spent enough I can't back out now, so I'll just have to make the best of it. Fixing a smile on her face that she was definitely not feeling, she opened the door. "Ginny! How good to see you! And how grown up you look these days. Work must be agreeing with you."
What did you do to yourself? Was the first thought that crossed Ginny's mind. Last time she'd seen Tonks, she'd been wearing old jeans with the knees out, orange sneakers, purple socks, a pink shirt that said "Kiss Me. I Could Be Irish.", and had blue hair and green skin to complete the ensemble. The woman before her was hardly recognizable but by the way she almost tripped over herself to hug Ginny. The skirt and sweater, blonde hair and pinky-white skin were so normal that Tonks seemed desperately out of place. And the accent, that thought rather forced sounding had seemed part of Tonks, was gone. It's kinda scary how much she looks like Narcissa Malfoy, thought the eighteen year old. But outwardly she replied, "Gee Tonks, you look great. I just got your reply back and since you wanted to help so much, I thought I'd head over and show you some recipes and ask you to look at the program."
"Sure Ginny," Tonks was mentally stealing herself for a "fun" afternoon. "But why don't you tell me who's coming first." Please don't let him be there. I'll do anything.
Not noticing anything was wrong, Ginny consulted one of her many lists. "Well, let's see… All the Weasley boys except Fred are coming because his wife, Lydia – I don't think you know her, has her first vacation time in three years that week and they're going away. She's an Unspeakable. Umm… Helena's sister Aitana is coming from Portugal and she's bringing her half brother, Andres. Some of Charlie's school friends are coming, and I think you know all of them, they're mostly your age. A couple of guys from Charlie's dragon handler's union are coming, and Ron invited Harry so he won't be bored."
Tonks breathed a sigh of relief. So he wasn't coming. She'd been afraid he'd be invited as a family friend. "Well Ginny, let's get at this cooking." And the two women entered the kitchen to make food, plans, and conversation.
