Fic: The Twelve Days of Christmas
Title: The Twelve Days of Christmas
Author: roh_wyn
Rating and Warnings: PG, no warnings
Format and Word Count: Fic, 1997
Prompt: The word "angel" and "Course Dumbledore trusts you....he's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me-I say there are spots that don't come off....Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"
Summary: Tonks is not sure what Remus is getting her for Christmas. OotP era.
Author's Notes: This is definitely NOT my best work, and the prompts really threw me for a loop. This started out as a drabble and ended up as something much longer.
December 23, 1995
“Merlin!” The door flew open, and Tonks barreled in, toting packages and shaking snow off her boots. “It’s freezing out there!”
Lupin smiled, admiring the way the snow flecked her coat and hair. She looked almost angelic. Almost, because the expression on her face was one no angel had ever worn before, as she crashed into the troll leg umbrella stand and cursed up a winter storm. This time, the portrait of Walburga Black just rolled its eyes, more bored than dismayed.
Tonks tossed a package at Lupin. “Picked this up for you, from F&B’s.” She took off her coat and threw it on the floor along with the rest of her packages. “What is it?”
Lupin tore off the brown paper wrapping and showed her the package contents, a copy of Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts. “It’s for Harry. For Christmas, from Sirius and me.”
Tonks nodded. “From Sirius? I would have expected something more…flashy from him, actually.”
Lupin scoffed. “Well, seeing as Sirius has no sense, and I have no money, this seemed like a good compromise.”
She laughed. “You know, I think this is one sensible gift Sirius might approve of.” She shrugged. “He’d want Harry to have the right tools too, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, of course.” He gave her a long look. “You know, I don’t mean to belittle Sirius.” Lupin sat down, resting the book on his knees, a faraway look on his face. “I know he’s suffered. It’s a wonder he’s even here, considering everything that’s happened to him.”
Tonks sat down next to him, careful to put a bit of distance between them. She liked Lupin, more than was probably healthy, and she knew he liked her just as much, but this thing between them was new, and she didn’t want to push too hard.
“It’s just easier to be glib,” Lupin said with a sigh.
She took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Yeah. Then he’s just your old mate. Not someone who escaped Azkaban.”
Lupin nodded, and then, grinning, he changed the subject. “Are you always this perceptive?”
She shook her head. “No. Most of the time, you have to hit me over the head with something before I get it.” She pondered for a moment. “It’s probably just because it’s you.” The words were out of her mouth before she knew it, and she blushed and tried to backtrack. “I mean, I…”
Lupin just laughed, obviously amused by her discomfort. “What are you getting Harry then?”
“Oh!” She bounced up out of her seat and raced back to the packages she’d left by the door. “I found this at one of those little novelty shops in Diagon Alley.” She shoved a plastic bag at Lupin, and he rummaged around in it and pulled out a small box.
“You’re giving him a box for Christmas?”
She scowled at him, hands on her hips, a silent reprimand on her lips. “Just open the box, will you?”
Lupin made a great show of opening the box, idly wondering if even Harry would show this much interest in Tonks’ present. Inside the box was a tiny broom, a Firebolt.
“It’s a Quidditch pin, then?”
Tonks could see the mischief dancing in Lupin’s eyes, and it dissolved the mild annoyance she was starting to feel. “Just give it here, will you?” She snatched the Firebolt from him, and flipped a switch. The broom came to life with a tiny whirr, and began to fly around the room. She felt properly smug as she watched Lupin follow the Firebolt with his eyes, in obvious awe.
“That’s…that’s really clever, Nymphadora.”
“Don’t call me…oh, never mind.” She decided to try a bit of mischief herself, and for once, the consequences didn’t really bother her. “What are you getting me?”
Lupin blanched. “Er, I…”
Tonks tried to keep from laughing at his confusion, as words spluttered out of his mouth.
“Er, I didn’t know you were expecting anything from me, actually.”
She gasped, feigning shock. “What? You mean you don’t have something planned already? I’m so disappointed, Remus. I was looking forward to something really big.”
Lupin finally caught on. “Ah, I see. Some grand gesture, perhaps. Something properly romantic?”
She reddened. “Er, um, yes, I suppose.”
“I hope you’re not expecting to find me under the Christmas tree, wrapped in nothing but a bow, Nymphadora.”
“No!” She said it a bit too quickly, and then, realizing he might take her emphatic denial the wrong way, she added, “I mean, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”
“That’s good, because I assure you that wouldn’t be very romantic.
“And probably not very grand either.”
Tonks laughed. “No, I suppose not. Still, if I end up with a tin of fruitcake, I might be a bit disappointed.”
“Oh.” Lupin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “In that case, I’ll give the fruitcake to Sirius, shall I?”
“I don’t think he’ll thank you for it.”
“On the contrary. He told me just the other day that he needed a new paperweight. The fruitcake will do nicely.”
Tonks laughed again, and this time, feeling silly, she decided to show Lupin the rest of the presents she had bought for the rest of the Order. It took the best part of an hour to get all the gifts sorted, wrapped and stacked under the tree, and though Tonks noted Lupin’s gifts for Sirius, Hermione, Ron and even the Weasley twins, she saw none with her name on it. She tried gamely to hide her disappointment for the rest of the afternoon.
Eventually, Tonks excused herself, deciding to head home before it turned dark. She shrugged into her coat and, on an impulse, gave Lupin a hug. He stiffened, but when his initial surprise wore off, he hugged her back, his arms warm around her shoulders.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Yes, Nymphadora. Good night.”
--
Lupin was not at the house on Christmas Eve, much to Tonks’ chagrin. Dumbledore had called him away on some special errand for the Order, leaving Molly Weasley in charge of the Christmas festivities. And it was certainly festive. The tree was grand, the food was delicious, and Sirius was quite drunk.
Harry and Sirius had both been properly impressed with her gifts, and she’d received some lovely things from Hermione and the Weasleys. Sirius had given her a very old bottle of wine, apparently from the Black family’s personal collection, with a note to save it for a day when she really needed it. She decided to open it, if only to attempt the whole drowning of sorrows thing.
She went to the kitchen and Summoned a corkscrew, trying to remember the particular charm that got the cork out of the bottle in under three seconds. Tonks nearly had it off, when the door swung open and Sirius walked in, unsteady on his feet but in high spirits.
“Are you opening that already? I said to save it for a special occasion!” He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. “On the other hand, every day is a special occasion, so I’ll have some as well.”
She smirked and poured Sirius a glass, watching in wonder as he downed it in a second and held his glass out for more.
Sirius frowned at her. “Why do you look like a little girl whose puppy just died?”
She shrugged, prompting Sirius to cluck at her. “Oh, it’s not because of Moony, is it?” He crooked a finger at her. “Because, let me tell you, his Christmas gift for you isn’t going to make you feel any better.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, he told me to give you this.” Sirius pulled a small, round tin out of one of the cabinets. It was red and decorated with little white snowflakes. Tonks grabbed the tin out of Sirius’s hands, fumbling with the lid as she hurried to open it. It took a few moments, but when she finally pried the lid off, her heart sank. Inside was a loaf of the world’s most ordinary-looking fruitcake.
Sirius clucked his tongue, an I-told-you-so expression on his face.
Tonks tried to hide her disappointment as well as she could. “Fruitcake. Well, I guess it’s sort of…traditional.”
“Well, yes…Moony is big on tradition.” Sirius frowned in concentration, as if trying to remember something. “Oh, wait. There was something else.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a rumpled and very plain envelope. “Moony asked me to give you this.” He pushed the envelope down the table to her. “I hope it’s not cash. That would be the only thing more crap than that fruitcake.”
Tonks fingered the envelope, wondering if she had misjudged-badly misjudged-Lupin’s interest in her. Still, if he’d bothered to write her a note, it was at least worth a read. She began to open the envelope when she noticed Sirius staring at her with almost unflinching attention.
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind? I’d like a bit of privacy?”
“What? To read a note? From Moony? It’s not like I’m looking over your shoulder, is it?”
“No, it’s just-“
Sirius held up a hand. “Oh, spare me, Tonks. You’re about to get all gushy about that note, and I’d just rather not be here anyway.” He scraped his chair across the floor far too loudly and exited the kitchen, muttering drunkenly.
The envelope had a single sheet of note paper in it, folded in half. On it, Lupin had scrawled a single line: The truth is hid indeed within the centre.
Tonks recognized the line as vaguely poetic, probably Shakespeare. More intrigued than impressed, she wondered what he was trying to tell her. What did the words mean? Had Lupin really given her a riddle for Christmas?
She put her Auror training to work, cataloging everything in the room…kitchen, wooden table, cabinets, dirty dishes in the sink, two empty wine glasses, a half-drunk bottle of wine, one envelope, one sheet of notepaper, a Christmas tin, a fruitcake…it took her several moments to organize all the facts in her mind.
Tonks slapped her forehead when it finally came to her. Of course, it was so simple! She grabbed the fruitcake and broke it in half. Sure enough, buried in the middle of the loaf was another piece of paper. This time, instead of Lupin’s writing, there was a hastily drawn sketch.
Of a partridge. In a pear tree.
Tonks groaned. “Sirius wasn’t half joking when he called you a traditionalist, was he?” She crumpled up the note and was about to toss it, when the partridge squawked. Alarmed, Tonks unfurled the note and tried to smooth out the paper.
She strained to hear what the bird was saying, and after a few moments, realized it was calling out “tap me, tap me!”
Tonks, now uncertain exactly what the gift was, tapped the bird gently with her wand. It immediately came to life in tiny miniature form. The bird perched in its tiny but very real pear tree, and sang the first line to The Twelve Days of Christmas. When the partridge was done, the turtle doves appeared in the fruitcake tin and took over, passing the song along to the French hens and the calling birds. When they finished, they presented her five tiny golden rings with a flourish and another note from Remus.
Dear Nymphadora-
I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but when I return, I promise to finish the song properly. With a sprig of mistletoe. Merry Christmas.
Love,
Remus
Tonks smiled. It was not what she had expected, but in his own way, Remus had given her exactly what she wanted. The song did say “my true love gave to me”, after all. And that was a very grand gesture. And a perfectly romantic one too.
She closed the tin and clutched it to her chest. “Merry Christmas to you too, Remus.”
--
Author: roh_wyn
Rating and Warnings: PG, no warnings
Format and Word Count: Fic, 1997
Prompt: The word "angel" and "Course Dumbledore trusts you....he's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me-I say there are spots that don't come off....Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"
Summary: Tonks is not sure what Remus is getting her for Christmas. OotP era.
Author's Notes: This is definitely NOT my best work, and the prompts really threw me for a loop. This started out as a drabble and ended up as something much longer.
December 23, 1995
“Merlin!” The door flew open, and Tonks barreled in, toting packages and shaking snow off her boots. “It’s freezing out there!”
Lupin smiled, admiring the way the snow flecked her coat and hair. She looked almost angelic. Almost, because the expression on her face was one no angel had ever worn before, as she crashed into the troll leg umbrella stand and cursed up a winter storm. This time, the portrait of Walburga Black just rolled its eyes, more bored than dismayed.
Tonks tossed a package at Lupin. “Picked this up for you, from F&B’s.” She took off her coat and threw it on the floor along with the rest of her packages. “What is it?”
Lupin tore off the brown paper wrapping and showed her the package contents, a copy of Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts. “It’s for Harry. For Christmas, from Sirius and me.”
Tonks nodded. “From Sirius? I would have expected something more…flashy from him, actually.”
Lupin scoffed. “Well, seeing as Sirius has no sense, and I have no money, this seemed like a good compromise.”
She laughed. “You know, I think this is one sensible gift Sirius might approve of.” She shrugged. “He’d want Harry to have the right tools too, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, of course.” He gave her a long look. “You know, I don’t mean to belittle Sirius.” Lupin sat down, resting the book on his knees, a faraway look on his face. “I know he’s suffered. It’s a wonder he’s even here, considering everything that’s happened to him.”
Tonks sat down next to him, careful to put a bit of distance between them. She liked Lupin, more than was probably healthy, and she knew he liked her just as much, but this thing between them was new, and she didn’t want to push too hard.
“It’s just easier to be glib,” Lupin said with a sigh.
She took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Yeah. Then he’s just your old mate. Not someone who escaped Azkaban.”
Lupin nodded, and then, grinning, he changed the subject. “Are you always this perceptive?”
She shook her head. “No. Most of the time, you have to hit me over the head with something before I get it.” She pondered for a moment. “It’s probably just because it’s you.” The words were out of her mouth before she knew it, and she blushed and tried to backtrack. “I mean, I…”
Lupin just laughed, obviously amused by her discomfort. “What are you getting Harry then?”
“Oh!” She bounced up out of her seat and raced back to the packages she’d left by the door. “I found this at one of those little novelty shops in Diagon Alley.” She shoved a plastic bag at Lupin, and he rummaged around in it and pulled out a small box.
“You’re giving him a box for Christmas?”
She scowled at him, hands on her hips, a silent reprimand on her lips. “Just open the box, will you?”
Lupin made a great show of opening the box, idly wondering if even Harry would show this much interest in Tonks’ present. Inside the box was a tiny broom, a Firebolt.
“It’s a Quidditch pin, then?”
Tonks could see the mischief dancing in Lupin’s eyes, and it dissolved the mild annoyance she was starting to feel. “Just give it here, will you?” She snatched the Firebolt from him, and flipped a switch. The broom came to life with a tiny whirr, and began to fly around the room. She felt properly smug as she watched Lupin follow the Firebolt with his eyes, in obvious awe.
“That’s…that’s really clever, Nymphadora.”
“Don’t call me…oh, never mind.” She decided to try a bit of mischief herself, and for once, the consequences didn’t really bother her. “What are you getting me?”
Lupin blanched. “Er, I…”
Tonks tried to keep from laughing at his confusion, as words spluttered out of his mouth.
“Er, I didn’t know you were expecting anything from me, actually.”
She gasped, feigning shock. “What? You mean you don’t have something planned already? I’m so disappointed, Remus. I was looking forward to something really big.”
Lupin finally caught on. “Ah, I see. Some grand gesture, perhaps. Something properly romantic?”
She reddened. “Er, um, yes, I suppose.”
“I hope you’re not expecting to find me under the Christmas tree, wrapped in nothing but a bow, Nymphadora.”
“No!” She said it a bit too quickly, and then, realizing he might take her emphatic denial the wrong way, she added, “I mean, that’s not quite what I had in mind.”
“That’s good, because I assure you that wouldn’t be very romantic.
“And probably not very grand either.”
Tonks laughed. “No, I suppose not. Still, if I end up with a tin of fruitcake, I might be a bit disappointed.”
“Oh.” Lupin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “In that case, I’ll give the fruitcake to Sirius, shall I?”
“I don’t think he’ll thank you for it.”
“On the contrary. He told me just the other day that he needed a new paperweight. The fruitcake will do nicely.”
Tonks laughed again, and this time, feeling silly, she decided to show Lupin the rest of the presents she had bought for the rest of the Order. It took the best part of an hour to get all the gifts sorted, wrapped and stacked under the tree, and though Tonks noted Lupin’s gifts for Sirius, Hermione, Ron and even the Weasley twins, she saw none with her name on it. She tried gamely to hide her disappointment for the rest of the afternoon.
Eventually, Tonks excused herself, deciding to head home before it turned dark. She shrugged into her coat and, on an impulse, gave Lupin a hug. He stiffened, but when his initial surprise wore off, he hugged her back, his arms warm around her shoulders.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Yes, Nymphadora. Good night.”
--
Lupin was not at the house on Christmas Eve, much to Tonks’ chagrin. Dumbledore had called him away on some special errand for the Order, leaving Molly Weasley in charge of the Christmas festivities. And it was certainly festive. The tree was grand, the food was delicious, and Sirius was quite drunk.
Harry and Sirius had both been properly impressed with her gifts, and she’d received some lovely things from Hermione and the Weasleys. Sirius had given her a very old bottle of wine, apparently from the Black family’s personal collection, with a note to save it for a day when she really needed it. She decided to open it, if only to attempt the whole drowning of sorrows thing.
She went to the kitchen and Summoned a corkscrew, trying to remember the particular charm that got the cork out of the bottle in under three seconds. Tonks nearly had it off, when the door swung open and Sirius walked in, unsteady on his feet but in high spirits.
“Are you opening that already? I said to save it for a special occasion!” He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her. “On the other hand, every day is a special occasion, so I’ll have some as well.”
She smirked and poured Sirius a glass, watching in wonder as he downed it in a second and held his glass out for more.
Sirius frowned at her. “Why do you look like a little girl whose puppy just died?”
She shrugged, prompting Sirius to cluck at her. “Oh, it’s not because of Moony, is it?” He crooked a finger at her. “Because, let me tell you, his Christmas gift for you isn’t going to make you feel any better.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, he told me to give you this.” Sirius pulled a small, round tin out of one of the cabinets. It was red and decorated with little white snowflakes. Tonks grabbed the tin out of Sirius’s hands, fumbling with the lid as she hurried to open it. It took a few moments, but when she finally pried the lid off, her heart sank. Inside was a loaf of the world’s most ordinary-looking fruitcake.
Sirius clucked his tongue, an I-told-you-so expression on his face.
Tonks tried to hide her disappointment as well as she could. “Fruitcake. Well, I guess it’s sort of…traditional.”
“Well, yes…Moony is big on tradition.” Sirius frowned in concentration, as if trying to remember something. “Oh, wait. There was something else.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a rumpled and very plain envelope. “Moony asked me to give you this.” He pushed the envelope down the table to her. “I hope it’s not cash. That would be the only thing more crap than that fruitcake.”
Tonks fingered the envelope, wondering if she had misjudged-badly misjudged-Lupin’s interest in her. Still, if he’d bothered to write her a note, it was at least worth a read. She began to open the envelope when she noticed Sirius staring at her with almost unflinching attention.
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you mind? I’d like a bit of privacy?”
“What? To read a note? From Moony? It’s not like I’m looking over your shoulder, is it?”
“No, it’s just-“
Sirius held up a hand. “Oh, spare me, Tonks. You’re about to get all gushy about that note, and I’d just rather not be here anyway.” He scraped his chair across the floor far too loudly and exited the kitchen, muttering drunkenly.
The envelope had a single sheet of note paper in it, folded in half. On it, Lupin had scrawled a single line: The truth is hid indeed within the centre.
Tonks recognized the line as vaguely poetic, probably Shakespeare. More intrigued than impressed, she wondered what he was trying to tell her. What did the words mean? Had Lupin really given her a riddle for Christmas?
She put her Auror training to work, cataloging everything in the room…kitchen, wooden table, cabinets, dirty dishes in the sink, two empty wine glasses, a half-drunk bottle of wine, one envelope, one sheet of notepaper, a Christmas tin, a fruitcake…it took her several moments to organize all the facts in her mind.
Tonks slapped her forehead when it finally came to her. Of course, it was so simple! She grabbed the fruitcake and broke it in half. Sure enough, buried in the middle of the loaf was another piece of paper. This time, instead of Lupin’s writing, there was a hastily drawn sketch.
Of a partridge. In a pear tree.
Tonks groaned. “Sirius wasn’t half joking when he called you a traditionalist, was he?” She crumpled up the note and was about to toss it, when the partridge squawked. Alarmed, Tonks unfurled the note and tried to smooth out the paper.
She strained to hear what the bird was saying, and after a few moments, realized it was calling out “tap me, tap me!”
Tonks, now uncertain exactly what the gift was, tapped the bird gently with her wand. It immediately came to life in tiny miniature form. The bird perched in its tiny but very real pear tree, and sang the first line to The Twelve Days of Christmas. When the partridge was done, the turtle doves appeared in the fruitcake tin and took over, passing the song along to the French hens and the calling birds. When they finished, they presented her five tiny golden rings with a flourish and another note from Remus.
Dear Nymphadora-
I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, but when I return, I promise to finish the song properly. With a sprig of mistletoe. Merry Christmas.
Love,
Remus
Tonks smiled. It was not what she had expected, but in his own way, Remus had given her exactly what she wanted. The song did say “my true love gave to me”, after all. And that was a very grand gesture. And a perfectly romantic one too.
She closed the tin and clutched it to her chest. “Merry Christmas to you too, Remus.”
--