Late. Late. She was late. She was very late. So late. As in, she wasn't going to get to work on time unless she was very, very, very lucky. Extremely lucky, even. She had been so good recently- always got up to her alarm, was in before she was supposed to (which is what Moody expected anyway). Of course, it wouldn't last. She had got too cocky and now she was paying for it.
Not that she could think too much about it because she didn't have the time. She was going to have to move it if she even had a chance of getting in on time.
Right. Tonks stopped in the middle of her apartment; arm only through one sleeve of her shirt, a piece of that in her other hand, no trousers on and she'd put both legs through one hole of her knickers. Okay. Going around like this wasn't going to help anyone. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. She could slare a second to get her head on straight.
Right. Extract one foot from her knickers and put it in the correct hole. Good. Now she could put her trousers on. But before that, let's get her shirt on properly. Look at her, nearly dressed! She just needed her robes and her boots. Oh, and her wand. Couldn't forget that, could she? No time for food.
It turned out that luck could actually be on her side. Which made a rather nice change. It didn't usually do that. Sure, she had to skip breakfast but she wasn't going to complain because Moody wasn't going to eviscerate her for being late. Having a rumbling stomach was mild in comparison to that. She could make it until lunch. Four hours wasn't that long, was it?
She counted herself extremely lucky that she didn't splinch herself with the speed she apparated at. She didn't even think as hard about her location like she normally had to. Though, whether it was because she was rushing or because her apparition skills were getting smoother, she didn't know. Nor was there any time to dwell on that thought.
Almost falling over Cavendish as she also apparated in, Tonks shouted a heating behind her as she sprinted through the building.
"You're late," he growled as she skidded in the door.
She looked up at the clock and noticed it was eight o'clock. Eight. Not one minute past. Eight on the dot.
"I'm on time," she pointed out. "Exactly." she threw in, just to be sure.
He opened his mouth, probably to scold her for being smart with him or to rant about "being early ensures you surprise your enemy and get the advantage" (something she'd heard many times before). But none of that happened, making her give him a look of confusion as he frowned at her. Moody frowning at you was never a good thing.
"What exactly do you think you are wearing?" He demanded.
Tonks looked down at herself, seeing her trousers and her solid grey top with her name and rank on it (N. Tonks, First Year Trainee).
"My... clothes?" She said hesitantly.
Was this a trick question? It felt like a trick question.
"I meant on your feet," he growled.
"My feet?" She repeated, looking down.
What was wrong with her feet? Oh.
Yep. There was definitely something wrong with her feet. To be exact, it was what they were encased in. Which weren't her usual combat boots (the ones that the Academy recommended they wear). She wasn't even wearing her trainers, which would have been the next best thing. No. Tonks was wearing none other than her platform shoes. The ones she wore pretty much everywhere except for work. She hadn't realised that she'd pulled those on instead of her boots this morning - she'd been that much in a rush.
"Yes, your feet," he said in a growled which then launched into a whole telling off about her boots, her feet, how she was putting herself in danger and how stupid it was.
To be honest, she kind of tuned it out after a few minutes - even though he did look kind of scary. It was kind of repetitive so she just let it wash over her and nod appropriately.
"Why did you even think that was anywhere near appropriate?" He demanded as a finished to his rant.
Tonks jumped at his last sentence, not realising how much she had zoned out as he had scolded her.
"Um?"
"We're you even listening to me?"
"I couldn't help but listen," she mumbled, flinching away from his glare. Oops, he'd heard that. "I mean, I was. My shoes. Boots. They aren't suitable. I know."
He was still glaring at her. Was she supposed to say something else? What was he wanting from her?
"I'm sorry," she offered sincerely. "I didn't mean to put them on this morning."
Which was true, even if it did sound unbelievable.
"Didn't mean to?"
See? She knew that sounded unbelievable.
Then she proceeded to launch into a rather long-winded explanation of what had happened this morning, Moody just blinking at her, bemused.
"Well, you can't be wearing them," he told her once she'd finished trying to explain jerseys.
"Wha-?"
"Can't wear what?" Auror Williams asked, having just come in through the door and automatically put his hands in the air.
This was because Moody had shoved his wand in her face.
"Really, Moody?"
Moody gave him a glare but shoved his wand back into its holster.
"What do you want?"
"Paperwork. But who can't wear what?"
"Her," Moody said in a vicious tone, pointing at Tonks.
Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow. "Your Trainee?"
"Look what she's wearing!"
Scrimgeour scanned down her, making her fidget.
"Her boots?" He finally said.
"Her boots!"
"Not exactly appropriate but it's not like you can make her go barefoot," Scrimgeour told him.
"And why not? It would serve her right!"
"Do safety regulations mean nothing to you, Moody?"
Moody just looked blankly at him and Williams sighed heavily.
"You are not going to make her go barefoot," he reiterated.
"But-"
"No, Moody."
"I can if I-"
"Do you want me to get Taylor down here? Or, even better, Amelia?"
Tonks started at that. Amelia? As in, Amelia Bones? Head of the Department of Law Enforcement? Williams was going to bring her into this? Was it really that bad? It was just a threat, wasn't it? Then she looked at her Mentor. Hmm. Moody didn't exactly look like the person who made simple threats.
Moody stared at the other Auror and then sighed.
"Whatever. Go get your paperwork."
"I better not see her barefoot later," Williams said as he left.
"Lace the damn things up properly," he grunted as he strode past her.
She quickly bent over and just did that. No need to poke the dragon any more than he had been already.
He spent the whole day glaring at her feet. Which was extremely off putting because he didn't look her in the eye once. Do you know how weird it was to be talking to someone who was glaring at your feet? She didn't know where to look.
"It's not like I've been having more accidents than usual in them," she tried pointing out.
And he was still glaring. Was he going to do anything else with his face today? It was tempting to ask but her ears still burned from the scolding over the boots. She didn't want to earn another one.
Before she could say anything else, he rolled his eyes.
"That's true," he agreed gruffly. "Though Merlin knows how you've managed that."
"Hey!"
He didn't have to agree with her! The corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to laugh but that couldn't be right. Tonks was pretty sure the man didn't know how to laugh.
"I'm not always going to be wearing combat boots or boots at all," she pressed on.
"You should," he grumbled. "Far more practical than that nonsense."
He pointed aggressively at her feet making her roll her eyes.
"I like them."
"Liking something shouldn't take precedence over CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
She really should have been expecting that by now but she wasn't so she jumped and promptly fell over. Not because of her shoes, mind you, but because there was a chair behind her.