Fanfic: Revelations
Yawning so deeply it felt like her jaw would dislodge from the effort, she covered her open mouth with the back of her hand as she padded softly down the steps, her much too large woollen socks muffling the sound of her footsteps, but also making it harder for her to completely control where she put her feet.
“Bloody hell!” She hissed as an icy pain shot through her leg, emanating from where her big toe had hit the doorframe. Stumbling backwards, she took hold of her toe and bit her lip to keep from crying out her pain, not feeling the longing for Mrs Black’s dulcet tones and kind words. This was great, just swell. She had just come down for a glass of water and… She trailed off and looked up as the kitchen door was thrown open, the light blinding her, making her unable to identify the figure in front of her.
“Who’s there?” The voice rang with authority and she almost hunched down automatically as if she’d been caught sneaking out after hours. “Oh, Nymphadora.” The tone softened slightly and so did the light surrounding the figure. Looking back up, Tonks could see the silhouette of her old transfiguration Professor moving back inside the kitchen. The sight surprised her enough to forget to correct the woman for using her first name, an annoying habit the Professor had picked up since Tonks joined the order. Not only was she taken aback by the fact that McGonagall was at Grimmauld place at this time of night, but as she looked closer she noticed something she’d never seen before in her eleven years at Hogwarts: McGonagall’s hair was down, flowing freely in a cascade of black down her back, so long that Tonks was sure she’d get a nasty neck crane if she sat down on it. She felt her ears burn as she remembered those years when she’d sat way back in class and tried to will the pins out of her Professor’s hair. It felt forbidden then, and it still did she realized as she started to feel like she was observing something secret and private. It was beautiful, billowing effortlessly over her shoulders, nothing like her own bubblegum pink and spiky hair, which she always felt reflected her so well, except when in McGonagall’s presence. Somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that her old Professor was offended by it, like she felt the colour and length was somehow obscene and rude.
“Nymphadora?” At the repeating of her name, she startled a bit, realising she was still standing in the doorway, holding onto her no longer aching toe. She blushed.
“Tonks.” She corrected shyly as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her. McGonagall didn’t seem to have heard her as she returned to sipping from her cup, her eyes darting left and right over a long piece of parchment in front of her. Tonks pretended to take her time closing the door, her gaze darting towards the other woman. She looked paler then last time she’d seen her, her ankle length oddly chosen muggle dress looking misplaced under her open robes. She could see dark discolorations under her eyes and her left index finger was tapping absentmindedly against the dark wood of the long kitchen table.
“Do I look that bad?” Tonks startled again as McGonagall spoke without looking up from her papers.
“Oh, no, sorry.” She stuttered, ashamed at having been caught starring so rudely. But then, she figured her old Professor would have gotten used to that by now. Tonks had never been good at hiding her admiration. “I was just wondering what you were doing here so late ‘is all.” She covered, walking over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water, then turning to lean against the counter to look over the room.
McGonagall sighed and moved her hands up to rub her face.
“I’m meeting Kingsley in an hour.” She said; her voice suddenly as tired as her eyes as she moved her hands down to rest folded on top of the parchment she’d been reading. “I wish I had more to tell him.” She admitted, looking up at the younger witch. Tonks felt a sudden warmth spread through her body and had to bite back a smile, it really wasn’t polite to smile at people who had just divulged their disappointment in their work. But she couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of pride at being confided in by the woman who had once set her a weeks worth of detention for flooding the toilets on the second floor with dungbombs in her third year. It had been a great week.
“We all do Professor.” Tonks finally spoke up, her gaze wavering a little as McGonagall looked up to meet it. “People are petrified, they don’t want to fight, they don’t want to remember and as long as they can keep living their everyday lives, they want to hold onto them.” She said, making her way over to the table and sitting down a chair away from the raven haired woman.
“I know.” She sighed, rolling the parchment up neatly and tucking it into a pocket on the inside of her robes. As she looked up, her expression had changed. “Couldn’t sleep?” She asked; her voice conversational as if the change of topic had occurred several minutes ago. Tonks, suddenly remembering her glass of water, took a large sip and then shook her head.
“It’s this house,” she said, looking around, “makes me uncomfortable and on edge.”
McGonagall scoffed softly.
“I keep expecting someone to jump out at me any moment.” She agreed, looking towards the door where she’d pointed her lit wand in Tonks’ face only moments before.
“Constant vigilance.” Tonks said in her best Mad-Eye imitation. As McGonagall’s head snapped in her direction, she blushed and bit her lip. Okay, making fun of authority figures in front of the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts was probably not her brightest idea ever. But as she looked up she could see a rare smile grace McGonagall’s dark features, then her chest seemed to expand as a soft laughter escaped those usually so thin and pursed lips.
“The mad part’s got nothing to do with his eye.” She said with a shake of her head and Tonks smiled, still staggered by this relaxed behaviour that seemed so unlike the woman she’d watched from a distance in her school years. It was the second revelation in a matter of moments, that both crushed the pedestal-image she’d had of her Professor and at the same time turning it into something more real and so much more dangerous.
“I should head back to bed.” The realisation had made her scared enough to utter those words and stand up from her seat, before she realised she really didn’t want to leave. If she’d learned that much about Minerva McGonagall in just a matter of minutes, what could she learn if she just stayed a while longer? But the older woman had nodded her head and was pulling the parchment back out from her robes. There was no going back, not without looking incredibly dim-witted.
“Goodnight Professor.” She offered, cursing her incredibly bad decision making as she took a step backwards.
“Pleasant dreams Nymphadora.” McGonagall looked up and granted her another one of those smiles that Tonks couldn’t help but return.
As she walked out of the room, she again took her time to close the door behind her, watching as the Professor pulled out a quill and started to scribble something at the base of the parchment. Somehow she didn’t look as tired anymore and she’d stopped drumming her finger against the table. Tonks sighed softly as she pulled the door shut all the way and walked up the stairs. Oh there would be pleasant dreams this night, not even the constant use of her first name seemed to bother her as she walked up the stairs. Then suddenly she stopped and turned around. Merlin, how tick could you get? She’d gone downstairs to get herself a glass of water, a glass that was still sitting on the kitchen table. A smile spread across her lips.
Well, she’d just have to go down and get it, wouldn’t she?