A/n: Here's chapter four, right on schedule. Sorry about the italics thing last time. Obviously it didn't work. Now I've figured it out thanks so much to Julia and eloquentsilence for their help. Thanks also to my reviewers, you know who you are and pretty soon I'll get around to saying something to each of you personally.

Another A/n: This chapter is a bit darker than the others. It's a bit angsty really although I tried to lighten it up with a little humor. The next couple chapters will probably be similarly angsty but don't worry, it's just a phase and once I get past it'll get much lighter so hand in there. And about Feo Rodrigez, I got so many comments on him and how you guys want to see what she does and she will do something, but you're gonna have to wait until chapter eight I think. Sorry. And now without further ado except for a disclaimer, I present chapter four.

Disclaimer: Don't own. (I'll be more creative next time).

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I've become so numb I can't feel you there
I've become so tired so much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you

And I know
I may end up failing too
But I know
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you

[Chorus]
I've become so numb I can't feel you there
I've become so tired so much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you

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Dora had decided she preferred Andie's silence to anything her mother had to say. As soon had they got inside and Ted had left to take Dora's trunk her room, Andie started up a whirl of small talk. Still a Black. Trained to perfection in the art of polite, impersonal conversation Dora rolled her eyes. Her mother caught the gesture. Andie glared at her daughter.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me young lady. I am your mother…"

"No shit Sherlock…"

The sarcasm was a mistake. Andie's face hardened, her graciousness turning into the furious anger Dora remembered so well from her childhood.

"WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE…I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO DESERVE THIS…"

"NO YOU NEVER DID ANYTHING AT ALL, ALWAYS LET DAD HANDLE IT. ALL YOU EVER DID WAS SCREAM. THAT'S ALL I REMEMBER FROM WHEN I WAS A KID, MY MOTHER SCREECHING LIKE A BANSHEE AT ME, EVEN WHEN I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING…"

"I DID MY VERY BEST! MAYBE I WASN'T CUT OUT FOR THE WHOLE MOM THING, WASN'T LIKE I HAD I GREAT MOTHER. YOU THINK I SCREAM…"

"THAT'S ALL YOU EVER THINK ABOUT, YOURSELF. YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN TO COAGHT UP IN YOUR OWN BLOODY ISSUES.

YOU NEVER GAVE A DAMN ABOUT ME…"

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WENT THROUGH, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKIING ABOUT…"

"IT DOEN'T MATTER WHAT YOU WENT THROUGH, I'M YOUR DAUGHTER! MOST PEOPLE WOULD TRY TO SPARE THEIR CHILDREN. JUST BECAUSE YOU HAD IT BAD DOESN'T MEAN I DIDN'T DESERVE A NORMAL CHILDHOOD…"

"I TRIED… I'LL TRY TO FIX…"

Dora stared at her mother as Andie trailed off. "It's too late," Dora whispered. Her anger and hurt made the words ring with contempt; "You already made your mistakes. Why didn't you just try? Why couldn't you just move on? If not for me, for Dad; he loves you so much and you treat him like dirt, just like everyone else…"

Dora turned on her heel and ran out of the room. She pushed past her father, and ran out the door, slamming it behind her. The pavement tripped her up and sent her sprawling. Cursing her natural clumsiness, Dora scrambled to her feet and continued running, not noticing the people staring or the tears rolling down her face.

She could never remember exactly how it happened (she dimly recalled a subway and an old man who had lent her money or something) but she ended up in London. Her hysteria had vanished and she felt lost and alone. After an hour's aimless wandering she stumbled on the Leaky Cauldron. She had no idea of what to do.

"Are you alright?"

Dora whirled around and found herself looking into a slightly familiar face.

"Mr. Weasley!"

He smiled, nodding, then frowned. "I'm sorry, I forget who you are."

"Dora Tonks," she answered, extending her hand. He shook it. "I'm a friend of Charlie's from Hogwarts."

"Oh, right, the metamorphagus, that explains it why I didn't recognize you."

"Yeah, my hair was pink at the station." She had changed it to auburn once she got home. Pink seemed too cheerful for that place. "I thought you were going to Egypt."

"Tomorrow morning. I've been delegated for the last minute shopping," Mr. Weasley explained, indicating the packages he had been carrying. "Are you here with your parents?"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah they're buying some…er…quills."

Surprisingly, he seemed to accept her story, "Well, I'd love to talk, Dora, but I need to get back. Molly's very stressed with the trip and all."

"Right." said Dora. Mr. Weasley turned toward the fireplace. "Hey, Mr. Weasley." She needed some where to go and he was the only person around who she knew. Would he take her in for the holidays? No, she decided. No he'd just send me home. Besides, they're leaving. "Say hi to Charlie for me."

"Sure. Good-bye."

"'Bye."

Dora left before she could change her mind. She decided to stay at the Leaky Cauldron. She had an account at Gringott's with enough Galleons to pay for a room for the next two weeks. She sent her parents an owl the next day telling them she was at a Millie's house and not to worry. As if they would. Millie sent Dora's things, which had arrived at Millie's house right before she left for Spain.

Dora spent the next three days wandering around Diagon Alley, doing some shopping and writing letters to her friends. On her fourth day, Christmas Eve, she was sitting in her hotel room, preparing her Christmas letters and gifts. She had bought a small model of a Chinese Fireball for Charlie; it was they only species he didn't have in his walking, fire breathing dragon figurine set. For Millie, she bought an amateur Healer's set. Dora figured her friend could start training for her future career as a Healer. Rusty was the hardest of her friends to shop for. He had very few interests. She had settled on a radio that received both Muggle and Wizarding stations, as he was always complaining that he couldn't keep up with the trends of the magical world during the summer. She bought Ted a new hat. His others were very old. She sent Andromeda a book that she had pulled at random off the shelf at Flourish and Blotts.

Having sent the gifts and their accompanying letters with her owl, Dora went down to the pub. She suddenly felt very alone. Sitting at the bar with her butterbeer a few minutes later, she noticed how few people were there. Everyone's at home with their families, I suppose. She sipped her butterbeer, feeling extremely lonely. She had thought that spending her holidays here, alone, was better than spending them at home with her parents. Now she wasn't so sure. What she would have given to be Millie, or Charlie, or Rusty! Maybe their families annoyed them but at least they cared about them. A wave of depression filled Dora and to her horror she felt tars on the cheeks.

"Are you okay?" Dora started. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the man come up to the bar, order a drink, and address her.

"Y-Yes," she stammered, hastily wiping her cheeks with the palm of her hand.

Looking up, she studied the man's face. He was quite young, probably in his mid-twenties, but he looked worn, like he'd seen a lot of hard times. He had light brown hair and a kind smile on his face. His brown eyes were looking at her with a strange mixture of sympathy, concern, and something else, confusion, perhaps, or regret.

"Waiting for your family?" he asked. Dora had no idea why he cared. She wished he would leave.

"No," she answered shortly. Maybe he would get the message that she wasn't in the mood for small talk. No such luck.

"Aren't you a bit young to be here alone at night?"

"Obviously not. I'm here, aren't I?"

He smiled a bit wider. Suddenly, he seemed very familiar. That scared her. Most vaguely familiar people turned out to be relatives. Not a good thing.

"I have to…" Dora began just as the man started to speak. His words made her stop.

"You remind me of an old friend I had in school." He looked at her frowning. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were his daughter, but no."

This caught Dora's attention. "Who was he?"

"No one you'd want to meet," answered the man.

"So you compare me to him then say I wouldn't want to meet him. Is that an insult?" asked Dora, cocking her head to the side, eyebrows raised.

"Merlin you look like him too," he smiled, reminiscing. "He used to give me the same look."

"I can look like anyone," Dora said crossly. "And you never answered my question."

"Like anyone? How do you manage that?"

"Answer my question and I'll tell you."

"It wasn't an insult. He was a good man when he was your age, just didn't grow up so well. You better hope you don't end up like he did."

"How's that?"

"Wait, my question first."

"Fine, I'm a metamorphagus; I can look however I want. Now, what happened to him?" she wasn't entirely sure why it meant so much to her.

"He's in jail. What do you naturally look like?"

"Like this mostly. I don't usually change my face very much, just my hair," Dora indicated her blonde curls. "Why is he in jail?"

"Never you mind. So if you weren't a metamorphagus—"

Dora cut him off, opening her mouth to ask another question about the man's friend, but the man held up his hand. "Let me finish then maybe I'll tell you more about my friend. What color is your hair normally?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you have the same nose."

"What?"

The man smiled again, sadly this time, as though remembering a part of his life he wished he were still in. "Your nose is the same as my friend's, and your eyes. You act a bit like he did, as well. Do you have you're mother's eyes or your father's?"

Dora wasn't sure what he was getting at, but she played along. "Neither. My mother's eyes are brown, my father's are hazel."

"Any blue eyed family members?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

Dora closed her eyes for a moment, remembering: Blue eyes dancing. That big welcoming smile. Strong arms scooping her up. "Hiya Nymphie, how's my favorite little cousin." All that black hair, groomed to perfection. He was always so vain about that hair of his.

"He's gone now," she said. She wasn't really answering the man's question. "Haven't seen him in like eight years. I loved him then. He was like a brother to me. Or an uncle. An immature one," she laughed absently. "He wasn't what I thought he was. He really screwed up," she laughed again." Screwed up, that's the understatement of a lifetime. Sometimes I think that it couldn't have been him but…but there's no other explanation." Dora felt tears rise to her eyes for the second time that day.

"Same with my friend really," the man was sinking into his own reverie. "Killed his best friends. Left his friends and family, well what was left of his family. He wasn't on speaking terms with most his relatives. Just his cousin and her husband, and their daughter. I guess none of us had much of a real family."

"I never did either. My father's the only one left in his family, 'cept some third cousins and stuff. Andie's parents disowned her. But I had one hell of a surrogate family."

"Yeah? I did too, I guess. My mother was killed when I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts and my dad left us when I was a baby. I had my friends though. After school we'd get together to celebrate Christmas. We'd sing, burn all the food…"

"…have Chocolate Frog fights. Uncle Prongs would bring some Fire Whiskey and he and Uncle Padfoot would get royally smashed..."

"Who?" the man's face was chalk white, his eyes wide in shock...

"My uncles…sort of…see they…"

"What were their real names?" he spoke slowly, trying to contain himself.

Dora bit her lip. "One was my mother's cousin. Prongs was his best friend…"

"Nymphadora Tonks."

Dora blinked, How did he…? Then suddenly, she realized. Christmastime. Her father walked into the room. "Introducing Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs." Ted loved being part of the Marauder's games. Five year old Dora. Running to them. Picked up and hugged by each in turn. Uncle Padfoot, Uncle Prongs…

"Uncle Moony!"

He smiled.

Dora's head was swimming. Remus Lupin. One of Uncle Padfoot's best friends. She couldn't decide whether she was happy or sad or excited or surprised or…

Then, before she could decide what to do or say or think, the screaming began.
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A/n: There it is. I could really use comments on this chapter, I'm very worried about it. Reveiw!