Pokemon Challenge, KingsleyTonks: natural, turquoise, putting a scarf around someone's neck
Book Club, Joe: baseball, "[Name] met a girl last night.", battery
Word Count: 536
Kingsley doesn't know what to make of the newest addition to the Aurors. Nymphadora Tonks is ridiculously clumsy, and her shocking turquoise hair isn't exactly the most natural shade. Still, he doesn't argue as she plucks a strange white ball with red laces from her pocket, tossing it from hand to hand as Mad-Eye briefs them on the raid.
If Alastor Moody says the girl is good, Kinglsey has no choice but to believe him.
His eyes continue to flicker toward her. It's inappropriate. She is his colleague, not some pretty thing on display. Cheeks heating, he forces his attention back to Alastor who holds up a strange metal cylinder.
"It's called a battery," he explains. "Someone has been filling these with an Exploding Potion so that the Muggles who use them… Well, poor bastards…"
"Isn't this a job for Misuse of Muggle Artefacts?" Dawlish asks with a bored yawn. "We don't handle tampered Muggle objects."
Mad-Eyes stalks closer with a growl. "Sure. If we didn't know who was doing it. But we do, and we're making a big arrest. Got it?" He turns, looking at each Auror in turn; they all not their compliance. "Right. Well, everyone in position."
Kingsley moves toward the front. Over the years, they've liked having him in this position. They say his presence is reassuring, that even the most hardened criminals would be tempted to stop and listen to his deep, soothing voice.
"Wait! It's cold out there!" Nymphadora hurries toward him, nearly stumbling over her own feet. "Oops! Sorry."
Kingsley catches her before she can fall, steadying her with a grin. "Alright?"
"Wotcher," she says with a radiant smile, and there's no denying that Kingsley is melting now. Nymphadora summons a scarf with a quick wave and incantation. Still smiling, she carefully places it around his neck. "There. Better."
"Thanks, Nymphadora."
Her hair darkens to an angry shade of red, and Kingsley understands why Alastor saw so much potential. An actual metamorphmagus is rare.
"Don't call me Nymphadora," she says darkly, a scowl twisting her lips. "It's just Tonks."
Kingsley chuckles softly. "Well, just Tonks, thank you for the scarf."
Her expression softens, and she almost looks sheepish. Tonks offers him a quick wave before hurrying to her position. As she passes by the others, she doesn't offer their unprotected necks scarves.
He wonders what that means.
…
"Look at that smile, Hawa," Auntie Siti says as Kingsley joins her and his mother in the kitchen. "Asim met a girl last night."
Kingsley tries not to roll his eyes. He may be a grown man, but Auntie Siti still terrifies him.
"Siti, don't tease him," his mother says, offering him a kind smile as she spoons rice into three bowls.
"I know love when I see it, Hawa. Look at him!"
"It wasn't last night," he murmurs. "It was morning."
His aunt cackles, a grin on her lips. "What did I tell you? Well, Asim, tell me about my future niece!"
As his mother hums and drizzles a traditional African soup over the rice, Kinglsey contemplates how to describe Tonks. In the end, he can only answer with a smile because there are no words to do her justice.