Author's Note: Found the start of this while clearing out my desktop for school. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.
Warnings: Allusions to gender-based workplace harassment.
Stacked with: MC4A; Terms of Services; Shipping War
Individual Challenge(s): Gryffindor MC (x2); Hufflepuff MC; Short Jog (Y); Seeds
Representation(s): Auror Tonks and Auror Potter
Bonus challenge(s): Middle Name; Second Verse (Ladylike; Nontraditional); Chorus (Bee Haven)
Tertiary bonus challenge: NA
Word Count: 947
Shipping Wars
Ship (Team): Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin (Technicolour Moon)
List (Prompt): Big List (Public Declaration)
Clearing the Desk
This is the clock upon the wall
This is the story of us all
This is the first sound of a newborn child
Before he starts to crawl
This is the war that's never won
This is a soldier and his gun
This is the mother waiting by the phone
Praying for her son
Pictures of you, pictures of me
Hung upon your wall for the world to see
Pictures of you, pictures of me
Remind us all of what we used to be
-Pictures of You, The Last Goodnight
"You get Desk C," the Auror told Harry plainly. "Enjoy."
Harry nodded; his arrival in the Auror Department had been as ridiculously quick as could be expected. As soon as he'd been cleared for service by Kingsley (which he suspected had something to do with Mrs. Weasley's keeping an eye on his nightmare situation) he'd been given a week of training with a handful of other new recruits and a desk.
He'd been informally helping the Ministry ever since Voldemort had fallen and, not to be cocky about this, but who was going to keep Harry Potter from being an Auror at this point—especially with so many Death Eaters still "bloody running loose in the country" as Ron put it.
He didn't have much to put on his desk—he had a picture of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team from Sixth Year, and Ginny looked quite nice in it. He had a quill and his Auror Training Manual, which he'd highlighted and scribbled in and studied like he had never studied before. Hermione had called the sight of him and Ron actually making an effort "heartwarming." Maybe he'd bring a mug to drink coffee out of—that sounded like an appropriately adult thing to do.
He made his way to the back which was when he realized that nobody had cleaned out the desk since the last owner had been there, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who it had belonged to…
He surveyed the desk's surface.
There were case files—nothing too important. They must have given her little more than desk work, given her presumed ties to the Order, but he could tell that her work had been diligent and thorough anyways.
She had hoarded her empty bottles of ink, but her quills were kept clean. A thirsty-looking plant also sat on the desk, surrounded by sparkly bobby pins and a discarded pair of dragon-skin gloves.
In one of her drawers, she kept chocolate frogs and a toothbrush for late nights. Another housed old copies of The Daily Prophet, the crosswords all half-finished, and an occasional gossip magazine where a Weird Sister had made the cover. Old case files and field notes were organized in folders which were well-identified and thoroughly doodled on.
There was a picture of her parents on the desk, looking a fair bit younger and far happier than Andromeda looked now. Another of her and Mad-Eye, from what must have been her Auror inauguration ceremony based off of the official robes they were wearing and how shiny and new the badge around her neck were. There was another picture of her and Remus; she was sitting on his knee and they were pouring over a book until the photographer presumably motioned for them to look up, and they smiled. Remus' arm tightening around her ever-so-slightly. In another picture they were holding up a marriage license; Remus' clothes were significantly nicer than usual, she wore a white cocktail dress, and her dress was a shade of purple she'd once disclosed was for special occasions too. They looked giddy and Remus kissed her cheek. Last but not least, there was a blurry black-and-white ultrasound as well—unframed, simply tacked to the wall. He smiled; it must be Teddy…
Across the wall over the desk, someone had written BITCH in red ink. A package of dog biscuits had been left on the desk, and Harry's blood boiled.
But then he noticed that she'd also pinned confetti to the wall around the graffiti. She'd handwritten a menu and leaned it against the bag of biscuits. In purple ink and Tonk's handwriting, a note read:
"I'd tell you to bite me, but I wouldn't want to catch Tosser's Disease-twice as contagious as lycanthropy. Mess with my things while I'm having a baby and St. Mungo's won't be able to save either of your ass cheeks. Have a great day!"
Harry couldn't help but laugh and sat down at her old desk, leaning back in her old chair. He felt… strange. He felt strange, sitting at the desk of a person who most definitely should have still been alive. He felt odd seeing pictures of her and Remus' wedding for the first time now that they were gone, or an ultrasound of Teddy now that the baby was his on weekends… But the desk spoke of someone dedicated and precise and thorough and strong and spunky. Someone who wouldn't make poor decisions about the people she so clearly loved.
He picked up the picture of Tonks and Moody, trusting that his lack of malevolent intentions would protect him from whatever hex Tonks had cast. He compared the girl in the frame, a few years older than him, to the woman in the other pictures. Her smile was consistent throughout.
"I promise I'll be worthy of your kid and your old desk," Harry said, setting the picture down again.
He bugged Head Auror Hestia Jones for a cardboard box and carefully packed everything of Tonks' in a box and made a note to keep it somewhere safe, until Teddy would be old enough to enjoy them.