Hi all, sorry for the delay on this one! So many excuses that I know you aren't interested in, but essentially they amount to life. Thanks to those of you who have stuck with me! I'm grateful for every review, favourite and follow, I truly I am.
So this chapter ties in with the end of Chapter 8 of Prisoner of Azkaban - more Tonks/Remus interaction soon, I PROMISE. :) This one is a bit shorter than most chapters, but this was the best place for it to end. Next chapter will be longer.
Chapter 9 – She'd actually snorted in Dumbledore's face.
Of all the professors that didn't want to attend the feast that night, why did it have to be him! Tonks pulled the billowing robe she was wearing from under her feet once more, she was only half way to the hall and she'd already nearly tripped at least 7 times. Why was his robe so long? She'd never really thought about it before, but now she was wearing the robe herself it seemed ostentatious. He was so much taller than her, she had just assumed as a student it seemed long, but she'd definitely morphed herself to the perfect height and still the robe seemed to have yards of unnecessary material that was trying to kill her with every step she took.
She was sure when Dumbledore had informed her that he wanted her at the feast and that one of his staff members had given him notice that they did not wish to attend themselves and they would not be at all offended or upset if Tonks borrowed their identity for the evening and morphed herself to match their person exactly, that he must have been talking about a very open minded and kindly professor such as McGonagall or Flitwick. After all there were still so many people that simply didn't trust Metamorphmagus', some even still seriously believing some of the most ridiculous myths like that when a metamorphmagus transformed into another person they were not only able to identically match that persons outer features but could also access their thoughts, feelings and memories. It was complete tripe, but the sort of prejudice that Tonks had put up with all her life.
So when Dumbledore informed her that the forward thinking, helpful Professor was in fact Snape, she snorted.
She'd actually snorted in Dumbledore's face.
Thankfully he seemed to find the funny side of the whole situation and laughed at her astonishment before assuring Tonks that Professor Snape had indeed given his full support and permission for her to borrow his identify for the evening.
The hall was decorated beautifully. Halloween and Christmas were always Tonks favourite times at Hogwarts. The castle never felt more magical than during those two feasts and although she was grateful to be able to be a part of the feast and eat with everyone, not alone in her room as had become her routine when not on duty, she couldn't help but feel frustrated that it hadn't been Professor Flitwick who had lent her his identity. He was sat to Lupin's left with Professor Sprout on his right and the three chatted amicably throughout the evening. She tried to focus on her food and talk to Dumbledore whom she was seated next to, but try as she may her eyes kept drifting over to Lupin without her permission or understanding.
Why did it bother her so much that he didn't want to be friends with her or spend any time with her? It wasn't as if she hadn't faced rejection from men before. Still something bothered her about the last time they'd properly spoken, how it had seemed like something had just snapped inside. He'd gone from companionable, gentlemanly Remus to ushering her out of his room without any explanation. They hadn't argued, she was pretty certain she hadn't said anything offensive and she'd run the conversation in her head over and over again. Yes, that was it - what frustrated her most about her situation with Remus was that she was certain she'd missed something – and Nymphadora Tonks hadn't gotten through Auror Training by missing things. She was observant, or nosey as her dad liked to label it, she listened and she picked up on things, things people didn't necessarily want others to know about. Perhaps her metamorphmagus abilities did make her more sensitive to what other people were thinking (though they didn't allow her to steal people's memories like many of the prejudiced morons she'd come into contact with thought), she did pick up on emotions and Remus had seemed relaxed that night, until the end of the evening when he'd all but thrown her out, then he'd seemed sad and even a little terrified.
But of what?
She realised that she'd been staring at Lupin for an awfully long time and she needed to redirect her gaze; although the thought of students gossiping about how Snape couldn't keep his eyes off Professor Lupin at the Halloween feast almost made her tempted to carry on.