I don't own Harry Potter and therefore I don't own the Tonks family.
Ted opened the door of the house to hear arguing and he sighed, walking out of the lounge and through the corridor, throwing his cloak on the sofa as he went. "I'm not a baby!" Dora insisted.
"This has nothing to do with you being a baby," Dromeda argued back. "You know you can't control your hair overnight. You need to not have it morphed now."
"My hair is boring. I don't want to," Dora whined.
"Dora, listen to your mother," Ted said, entering Dora's room. His daughter was standing next to her bed, a glare on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was a very bright pink.
"I don't want to!" Dora yelled. He saw it flash in her eyes the moment the words left her mouth that she wanted to take them back. Her dark eyes moved for a moment from Ted's own disappointed look to her mother's livid one and then down at the floor. Her hair started sliding through colours in such a way that Ted was fairly sure she wasn't trying to be defiant by changing her hair; it was slipping through her distressed colours, a sign her emotions had taken over and she had lost control of her morphing.
"It's not negotiable, Nymphadora. You're still a child and my child at that. If I tell you to do something, you will do it. And you may not yell at me," Dromeda told her with a voice that was cool and somewhat removed. Dora looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. "You're grounded for the next week except for going to Christmas with your father's family."
"Dad," she started, her voice pleading as she looked up at Ted.
"Nymphadora," he returned, his voice back to the tone it somehow always assumed when she was in trouble. It had scared her away from the fireplace when she was a toddler and it made her back down now. She sat down on the bed and looked down at her feet, snuffling. Dromeda turned from the room and Ted followed after her.
"What happened?" he asked quietly as he shut Dora's door behind him. Dromeda held up her hand in a vague sort of gesture and kept moving along the hallway. Ted followed after her into the lounge.
"I told her she needed to wear her hair at its natural length and colour while we were with your family over Christmas and she started to argue. I told her it wasn't an option and she kept arguing. Normally she knows when I'm serious but she just kept going." Dromeda shook her head and sat down on the sofa. "She knows better."
"I know she does," Ted agreed sitting down next to her. "Anything else interesting today?" he asked her.
"Your owl caught a mouse in the crawl space. Other than that, not really," Dromeda replied with a yawn. "How about you?"
The two of them were still talking a few minutes later when Dora walked softly into the room. Her eyes were puffy though she didn't appear to be crying anymore. Her hair was back to pink. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"For what?" Ted asked her.
"For yelling. And not listening," she added, looking at them with her shoulders slumped.
"You're forgiven," Dromeda said gently. "You're still grounded but you're forgiven." Dora nodded. "Want to tell me what's bothering you now?" Dromeda persisted. Dora looked down at the ground and seemed like she wasn't going to speak for a moment. She looked pitiful.
"Come here, love," Ted said calmly. Dora looked up at him and then hurried over into his arms, hugging him hard as she buried her head against his chest. "What's wrong?" he asked. She didn't answer for a moment more and seemed to be trying to put herself together again. Then she pulled away, her eyes meeting Dromeda's instead of Ted's.
"I thought they were supposed to like me for me but you said I have to change my hair," Dora managed to get out, her voice a little higher than usual as if she were still fighting not to cry. "I only have to do that with people I'm supposed to lie to."
"Nymphadora, they'll love you no matter what," Dromeda told her.
"Then why do I have to have my hair all boring?"
"Because it's the law," Ted told her. "My parents, my brother, and my sisters all know about the wizarding world but their spouses and kids aren't allowed to know unless one of my nieces or nephews turns out to be a witch or wizard. It has nothing to do with you, Dora," he assured her. Dromeda reached out and stroked Dora's head.
"They cared about me when I was seventeen and just showed up at their door to find Ted," she said. "Your grandparents were very nice to me. I know they'll love you. If they can love me, they won't be able to stop from loving you." Dromeda leaned over and kissed Dora's head. "You're much easier to love."
"That's not true," Dora told her.
"Oh yes it is," Ted laughed. "Your mother fought tooth and nail against my falling in love with her. And her falling in love with me for that matter." Dora looked at Dromeda for confirmation.
Dromeda smiled at her. "Completely true. You'll be fine Dora. I promise it. They'll love you. If they can love me after all the danger I put your father in, they'll love you, no questions asked." She gave Dora a one-armed hug. "And besides, who you are isn't based on your ability to do magic, Dora. I'd love you all the same if you had been born a squib instead of a metamorphmagus. Changing your hair shouldn't define you, alright?" she asked. Dora nodded.
"Alright."
Sorry about not posting the last couple days. Things got busy with the last two days of classes for the semester and some events in my house. Hopefully I'll manage to make up those two during break (or maybe during finals when my brain's dead towards everything else). Sorry this chapters awfully short.