July 14th, Saturday (though it doesn't really matter, anyway. Everyday's the same sucky day.)
Spent the rest of the day sulking and brooding and generally feeling dreadful. Managed to refrain from alcohol misuse though, which is really a huge progress. Normally I would've just drowned my sorrows in butterbeer. Or firewhisky.
Eleven o'clock:
Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached a turning point. At exactly 8 this morning someone banged on my door and advised me in this special tone only mothers manage to "get my act together, stand up and stop sulking like a little child" – my mum. She managed to put my life back in order with just the right amount of fretting, sarcasm and presents.
After she had lectured me for hiding from the rest of the order and fighting with Remus, I finally got the motherly hug I needed for so long.
"My poor dear, why didn't you tell us what happened?"
"I didn't want to spoil your holiday. And I didn't even know where your ship was at the time."
"Don't be silly, dear, an owl would have easily found us."
"I know. I didn't want to worry you."
"I know. You never want to worry us. But not telling us anything that goes on in your life is certainly not the right solution, don't you think?" I didn't answer. It felt like heaven to be hugged and rocked like a crying child in my mother's arms as if I were five again.
"I know you want to be independent, and your father and I accept that. But we still want to share at least a small part of your life. Don't you think that would be possible?" I nodded, outright crying by now.
"And this incident is definitely something we should know about. You could have been seriously ill and we wouldn't have known if I hadn't met Emmeline at the Leaky Cauldron today who told me about you. Please promise me that you will tell me about things like this from now on." I nodded.
"I promise." After all, I've learned enough about worry those past weeks to know what my parents must have felt when they heard about my illness. I felt suddenly ashamed of myself. I've been acting like a child again.
"So, how are you now?"
"Way better. I'm almost healed. In a week or so I'll be allowed to work again. And just yesterday I've reentered the order." I could feel her chuckle.
"I know. Molly told me you'd been horribly embarrassed."
"It was so awful! Nobody had told me anything, and so I got down there in my old, smelly nightclothes and there they all were. And then Dumbledore started saying things like I'd gotten bored and unbearable to live with and made me look like a bored, spoilt child again. And then I had a row with Remus and then I just felt horrible."
"If it's any help, Remus isn't angry anymore."
"You talked to him?"
"No. I talked to Molly, who told me he'd been crushed yesterday evening. The poor man only wanted to help you. Well, that's men. Not much insight on women's minds. I think you should talk to him, though." I wondered for a fleeting moment why on earth my mum knew about my being friends with Remus before I realised she must have talked about that with Molly too.
"Mum, say, how long have you been here?"
"About two or three hours or so. I just arrived for breakfast. Why?" I groaned. Two or three hours in the kitchen with Molly and God knows who else! They might've told her everything. She might've met the girls. They might've said something about me being in love with Remus. Oh my god! I've got the bad feeling that another disaster is waiting for me just around the corner. Mum entangled herself from me and stood up.
"Now, I think you should just get up, have a shower and then go talk to Remus while I'm going down to chat with Molly for a while and see if I can help with lunch." I was a little peeved at her insistence that I take a shower, but realised I really haven't showered for two days.
"By the way, we've brought along some presents for you. I'll just leave them here. Dad sends his kisses with the small package." With that, she left my room, leaving me once again wondering whether or not mothers really have the inner eye.
After a refreshing cold shower, I decided to let Remus wait for a few more minutes and open my presents first. Opening the parcel from dad first, I found a shrunken head who had been charmed to tell jokes. I had to laugh about a really complicated one involving a chicken, a dentists drill and a red light. My mum always wants to make me a bit more feminine, so I expected one of her usual frilly dresses or lacy underwear or satiny nightgowns. Actually, her taste in clothes is quite good, and I'm sure I would look fine in this stuff, but I could never bring myself to wear it. Even though the clothes from my mum fill up half of my closet. I opened the parcels to find a rather beautiful chocolate brown bra with matching knickers, trimmed with soft pink lace and soft pink pin stripes. I looked at it for a moment before thinking – why not? So I slipped out of my usual pants and shirt look to try on the underwear. Maybe it really is time to change my style a little bit. Maybe when I dress and act like a woman Remus will realize I am one. Now curious, I quickly ripped open the second, bigger parcel, to find a stunning turquoise dress inside. I slipped it on over the underwear and gasped when I turned to the mirror.
A total stranger was staring back at me – an elegantly dressed woman with a curvy figure and a soft smile. The only thing that convinced me that it was really me was the wild pink hair I was still sporting and the old sock that stuck to my left leg.
I am definitely going to change my style. I can only say it again: Werewolves of 12 Grimmauld Place, beware!
I think it's time to go to Remus now. I'll forgive him for what happened yesterday and focus on my goal: Show him that I'm a woman.
Standing in front of his door, I take a last breath before slowly opening it and going in.
"Remus, I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I shouldn't have yelled at you. You only meant to do me a favour. Can you forgive me?" He's sitting at his desk with his back to me, probably reading, but now he turns around, opens his mouth to speak, lifts his hand to push his reading glasses down on his nose – and freezes in mid-air, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide. I so wish I had a camera with me right now! After at least two minutes of him staring silently, I clear my throat.
"Erm, Remus? Is everything all right?"
"Tonks? Is that you?" I chuckle softly.
"Of course it's me, silly. Who did you expect, Celestina Warbeck?" He shakes himself quickly.
"No, it's just that… you look so different!" He blushes, and I'm internally dancing with joy. Until he speaks again.
"Are you sure everything's alright?" My pride deflates like a balloon after the contact with a needle. Great. I really look like the gorgeous, grown-up woman that I am for once, and he thinks I'm sick. I really don't want to be the moody bitch all the time, but I can't help the lump forming in my throat, the tears welling up in my eyes. Before I can help it, I've turned on my heel and run to my room, where I throw myself on the bed and cry.
Stupid, stupid Tonks! How could I think a dress would be able to change everything going wrong in my life? Why would I think he'd look at me differently all of a sudden? But what hurts the most is that, for a fleeting moment, I really had the feeling that he liked what he saw.
I'm feeling the same as on that dreadful evening in my fourth year, when I told my best friend Stu that we should go to the Yule ball together, and he laughed at me and said "Thank you, but I'd much rather go with a real girl." That's exactly how I feel right now. Fourteen and unhappy and not enough of a girl.