(no subject)

[freakinwinky]

Title: Nymphadora Tonks and the Overactive Imagination
Raiting:PG (Very, very slight sexual innuendo)
Word Count:3,930
Prompts: Thing: Wolfsbane potion Location: A beach front pier Time: A Day of Need Genre: Romantic Comedy
Summarry: 'Even Aurors and fearless rebels could only handle so much at one time before they reached their limit...' with new evidence apparently condeming the man she has become attracted to, Nymphadora Tonks appears to have reached hers. (Set just before OoTP)
Author's Note: I'm sorry this is so very late. Mid-terms are this week and I'm very stressed out as I've been writing fanfiction instead of studying. Forgive me?



“Don’t tell me you’re going through this again Tonks?”

Celia Copland stared straight ahead as they walked down the cobble stoned streets of Diagon alley wearing an annoying, exasperated sort of expression. This wasn’t the reaction Tonks was hoping for at all.

“Look, Celia, I’m just telling you the facts. He had a smoking, strange smelling cauldron hidden in his wardrobe and a list of names stuffed into his desk drawer…”

“Both of which you found by snooping about in his room when he wasn’t there.”

As usual she was missing the point entirely. Yes, Tonks had indeed been snooping, but that didn’t mean she did not have a good reason for doing so.

The man in question had been gone for an entire week and no one, not even Dumbledore seemed capable of telling her where he was or what he was doing. And when she finally came out and asked him personally where he had been, he became mysteriously deaf and would not resume the conversation until the subject had changed.

There was something going on. Something he was hiding from her. Now she had evidence of it and not even her best friend would listen to her!

All though, Tonks really should have known not to count on Celia to believe any of her theories no matter how well thought out they were. Celia had always been the “sensible” one.

In school Celia was the smart, well mannered girl who became a prefect, and Tonks the trouble maker who thought up outlandish stories to get herself out of detention.

Celia always wore her long brown hair tied back in a tight braid, which made her face look rather rigid. Tonks’ hair sported a different outlandish shade at least twice a day and her clothing choice made her look more like a Muggle rock band groupie than an Auror. On the surface, the two seemed unlikely to tolerate each other, let alone become best friends.

Yet now, nearly five years out of school, they remained as close as sisters. And Tonks knew, however cynical Celia might be, she was the only person with whom she could share her findings with out ending up in the St. Mungo’s insanity ward.

“How I found them doesn’t matter,” Tonks continued. “It’s the mere fact that there was a strange potion, probably illegal…”

“Tonks, that potion could be used for anything-“

“But why would he keep it hidden? If it is perfectly innocent why not just have it out where everyone can see it?”

She had her there.

“Well…”

Tonks had never known Celia to concede a point, however, she knew her well enough to know when she was at a loss for anything to say. There was only one thing to do in such a case: press her advantage.

“And if you add that to the hit list I found…”

“Hit list Tonks? Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions just a bit?”

She was laughing. How dare she? There was a possible murderer on Tonks’ trail and…

“Next thing I know you’ll be referring to this bloke as a “rouge”, and telling me your plans to seduce him away from his wicked ways and save the Wizarding world in the process!”

Tonks blushed a bit at this. That had indeed been one of her planed tactics, though she would never have admitted it to Celia or anyone else for that matter. In order to save herself further embarrassment, she decided to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand. The list:

“It was a list with names of people crossed out. Names of people who I haven’t seen in several days! And my name was next aren’t you the least bit concerned?”

“I think I know what’s going on here.”

She looked at Celia who was now giving her a superior sort of smile. This was another thing about Celia which Tonks found nearly unbearable. She always assumed that she knew more about everything than Tonks did.

Tonks had to allow herself at least a bit of a smug feeling when she thought of all the things Celia didn’t know.

“You’ve spent the entire day telling me how this man has the perfect cover; he’s charming, handsome, and steady. This is the same way you talked about Robert Blackwood whom you ended up dating for a year.”

“That was completely different.”

And as it turned out, she hadn’t been entirely wrong about Robert. He was an egotistical bastard. Before she could say this however, Celia asked in that amused tone of hers:

“Really? Because I distinctly remember you telling me that Robert was ‘using his brilliant smile and exceptional arse to lure impressionable young girls into a circle of dark wizards.’”

How was it she remembered everything about a conversation even a year and a half after said conversation took place?

“Honestly Tonks, you’ve got great intuition. It’s what makes you so good at your job. But when you mix it with that overactive imagination of yours…I mean you can’t really believe that every bloke you fancy is up to something sinister.”

“I never said I fancied him!”

Tonks said too loudly and too quickly to be believed. Celia gave her a look which told Tonks that it was really no use denying it.

“Anyway, I never had any evidence with Robert. It was just a feeling. But Remus…”

“…Do you know that this is the first time you’ve so much as mentioned his name?”

Celia had replaced her superior amused expression with her slightly suspicious one. This was a look Tonks had been seeing quite a bit of these days.

“Don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting a last name out of you?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is he’s hiding something. Maybe it’s not illegal. Maybe it is completely innocent. But you’ll have to admit the man has secrets.”

“Tonks, we’re talking about someone I don’t know. Someone you won’t tell me anything about! And as for your “evidence”… you can’t tell me the names of the other people who are on this supposed ‘hit list’ can you?”

Tonks bit her lip and pretended to become extremely interested in a passing Madam Malkins window display.

“Tonks…” Celia sounded exasperated again. How she always managed to come full circle in conversations like these was yet another mystery.

“I hardly see you anymore, you’re never free in the evenings, sometimes you’re gone for days at a time with hardly any explanation at all, and when I do see you, you look so…tired.”

“I know. I know!”

“I may not be as imaginative in my theories about things as you are, but I know enough to know when something isn’t right.”

“Meaning what?”

She was getting too defensive, and Celia could see it. No wonder Tonks had failed at stealth.

“Meaning everyone has secrets Tonks, including you.”

Whenever Cilia felt she had given you something to think about she would give a simple, highly pretentious nod of her head and look forward in a resigned manner to indicate that the conversation was over.

Tonks, realizing that it would be incredibly futile to continue in her attempt to gain an ally in this, apologized to Celia for bringing it up in the first place, and offered to buy her a gift at Flourish and Blotts as a peace offering.

Of course, the subject of secrets remained in the back of her mind the rest of the day and into that evening. It was true, most of her friends outside of the Order, (and there were a great many), had noticed a significant change. Tonks herself had noticed it.

Ever since Kingsley brought her to her first Order meeting, she felt as if she were living in two separate worlds. The first was the world she was used to, the world she was comfortable in. A world in which You Know Who was hardly ever mentioned and she could talk about Quidditch and the Weird Sisters without feeling as though something was out of sync.

The second world was one in which everything was out of sync. A world where she called You Know Who, Voldemort and spent a good deal of her time keeping watch over a prophesy in order to keep it from falling into the hands of murderous dark wizards.

A world where well known martyr, Peter Pettigrew, was alive, well and running errands for Lord Voldemort and her infamous cousin, Sirius Black, was quite innocent and hosted afternoon tea for Dumbledore at the Black family mansion at least once a month.

It was quite a lot for Tonks to process. It had only been three weeks since her initial induction to the Order of the Phoenix, and she already felt as though she was in over her head.

And, obviously discovering that an apparently ordinary, charming, handsome, former professor was really a homicidal maniac with plans to do her in did not help matters in the slightest.

Honestly, she wanted excitement in her life. She really did. It was why she chose to become an Auror, and it was part of the reason she joined the Order of the Phoenix. Still, even Aurors and fearless rebels had to reach their limits at some point and Tonks was beginning to feel as though she had come to the end of hers.

Maybe Celia was right, maybe she was cracking up. Maybe the whole: Remus Lupin is a homicidal maniac/ illegal potions dealer/ agent of Lord Voldemort was a product of her overactive imagination. A bad example of what happened when one had too little sleep and spent too much time reading those trashy Mackenzie Mackromer Romance novels.

Maybe nothing sinister was happening at all. Maybe she should simply get back home to her flat and try to sleep all these silly suspicions off.

Yes. When, she finally reached her flat, Tonks came to the conclusion that sleep was probably the best antidote for this…whatever this was.

No sooner had she reached her front door when she was greeted by an owl. This particular owl was holding a note in its beak.

She took the note as the owl gave a hoot and flew off.

As she opened the note she was immediately forced to rethink the validity of that “overactive imagination of hers”:

Dear Tonks,

It read.

I have a somewhat urgent need to speak with you. In private if possible. Upon Dumbledore’s request, I will be in Blackpool this evening. My work will end at ten o’clock. If it is convenient for you, meet me at the beach front pier there at eleven.

Remus Lupin

Tonks stood open mouthed in the hall way as she read the note over and over again. Oh god, this was it.

He wanted to meet her on a deserted pier in the pitch black night (Most likely so that no one would hear her scream as he dealt the final blow).

Tonks felt something rather heavy swell up into her chest. She had a sudden urge to withdraw all her Gold from her Gringotts vault, pay off her debts, and floo call her mother to tell her that she loved her really, (even if she had saddled her with a dreadful first name).

But then she told herself to get a grip. It was only eight o’clock after all, she had plenty of time to go into her flat, grab herself a bar of chocolate and come up with a strategy. She was an Auror after all. She would not be murdered.

Two hours latter Tonks was still settled on her couch, clutching a glass of wine as chocolate wrappers littered her feet. Two hours and still no sign of a clear strategy aside from the obvious seduction route. (This, she decided was no go because it would take weeks for her to initiate it properly).

She had of course thought of simply sedating him with a spell and turning him in to the ministry. However, she quickly discarded this. First of all: such a move would compromise the entire order and second: all she had to incriminate him were a strange smelling potion and a list of names, both of which had been illegally obtained and would never hold up in court.

Then of course, she thought of not going to the pier at all but this seemed like a very cowardly move on her part. And if there was one thing Nymphadora Tonks hated, it was cowardice.

There was only one thing for it, she thought, as the large hand on her watch ticked to ten forty five, she would simply have to improvise.

So, making sure her wand remained firmly at her side, she apparated from her flat to Blackpool pier. It was not long before she spotted Remus Lupin standing along the wooden rail, the wind rustling his hair, wearing that shabby cloak.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to think of this man as a dark and sinister villain, and even more difficult to remember that she had chosen to forgo the seduction strategy. He looked very…seduce able when the sea breeze blew against him like that.

Steeling herself, she marched forward and told herself not to be charmed when he heard the clicking of her boots and turned towards her giving her a smile which would normally turn her insides to mush.

“Hello Nymphadora”

All the semi-romantic feelings in her body evaporated almost instantly at the use of her Christian name.

“It’s Tonks.” She said coldly as she could. He looked at her confused and she had to fight the urge to apologize to him.

Still…best not to give herself away too quickly. So she gave him a small smile and said:

“Wotcher Remus.”

He seemed appeased and turned away from her.

“I haven’t seen you in quite a while,” he said casually. “It seems we keep missing each other.”

“Yes. Strange how that happens isn’t it?”

Tonks meant for her question to convey all the meaning of: I know what you’re up to and if you think you’re going to get away with it you’re dead wrong.

Apparently she had not managed it properly as Remus did not appear the slightest bit disconcerted.

“Yes, it is rather strange.”

There was a long pause and Tonks felt the urge to fill it with something. Anything. But before she could let her mouth run away with her as it had so often in the past, he spoke.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked you here.”

He looked at her, apparently expecting her to speak. She didn’t answer. Her mind had gone oddly and suddenly blank. She was standing on a pitch black beach front pier with a murder and for the first time in her life she had nothing to say.

He continued:

“Tonks. What I’m about to tell you, it’s ...well, it’s not something most people take lightly. And I will understand completely if you…”

“I know.”

“What?”

“I said, I know what you’re going to tell me.”

What?

What on earth was she thinking? She had finally found her voice and immediately began to reveal herself to a mad man. Had she gone completely insane? Remus seemed to think so.

For a moment, he starred at her as though she had Lobsters crawling out of her ears. Then however, his face regained a composed expression.

“Who told you?” He asked, apparently resigned.

“No one told me. I worked it out for myself!” Tonks said indignantly

She was immediately reminded of every mystery novel she had ever read. At the end of the novel, the Villain always asks the hero (or in heroine in her case), recount how he (she) had worked the whole case out leading to the Villain’s inevitable capture.

“I snuck into your room and I found the potion and the list.”

“When did this happen?” He asked sounding very much like a school teacher asking a misbehaving child to recount her actions.

Tonks wondered how Remus could appear so calm at having been called out.

“Last week when you were away,” she answered feeling suddenly and strangely sheepish. How did he do that? He was the villain her after all, not her.

To regain the upper hand she pulled herself up right and said as forcefully as she could.

“And I want to tell you that there’s no way in hell you’re getting away with this!”

“Getting away with-“

“You could kill me now of course but before you know it the entire Auror division will be on your trail…”

He stepped back as though she had slapped him.

“Tonks,” he said quietly “I realize that you’re very upset about this.”

“Upset! Of course I’m upset! Why wouldn’t I be…?”

“But I assure you, I would never in a million years wish you any sort of harm.”

“Yeah? What about Hestia Jones?”

“Hestia?”

Remus looked quite puzzled. Still Tonks was convinced that she could not be fooled so easily she kept on.

“And Victoria Johnson and Natalie Nahler, mind telling me what happened to them?”

“As far as I know, Natalie Nahler is visiting her family in Ireland and Victoria and Hestia are on assignment together recruiting foreign Wizards on the continent.”

“Really? I haven’t heard anything from Dumbledore about it.”

“I’m sure if you asked him he would be pleased to tell you himself.”

Was he trying to pull one over on her? Lull her into a false sense of security by calling on a recognized authority? Suddenly she felt shaken.

“What is that potion for then?”

He looked even further baffled at this.

“Tonks? Are you certain you know what I came here to discuss with you?”

To tell the truth, she wasn’t exactly certain of much of anything anymore.

“Whatever it is, I assume it’s nothing legal,” She said as soundly as she could, although she did not seem able to prevent a slight hitch in her vocal chords.

He gave her a wry, humorless smile.

“There are those who think that it should not be. Though there is little they can do to prevent it.”

He leaned against the railings of the pier as if for support and sighed heavily before speaking.

“I’m a Werewolf, Tonks.”

For a minute there was silence. Nothing could be heard but the crashing of the ocean waves against the rocks beneath the pier. Finally, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Oh,” was all she seemed capable of saying at the present time. She turned away from him to look over the ocean so that he would not be able to see the red that had crawled up her neck and now covered the coloring of her face.

All those horrible things she had been thinking about him over the past week…suddenly she felt rather sick.

“It was Dumbledore who suggested that I reveal…the nature of my condition to new recruits when I felt the time was right. He did not feel it necessary to burden them with all the information at once. I made that list to keep track.”

He said all this in a rather forced tone, which made her feel as though she had shot an innocent Krup. With everything this poor man must have been through…she had gone and made the situation even more uncomfortable for him.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I had no right to…I’m just under a lot of stress right now. And when I’m put under pressure my imagination flares up and I start…”

“It’s perfectly understandable. I should have told you sooner.”

Her curiosity piqued again when she realized something. Natalie Nahler had joined the Order a week after Tonks had. Why had he told Natalie before telling her?

“Why didn’t you? …tell me earlier I mean?”

It was difficult to see in the dark, she felt sure that she saw a blush creeping along Remus’ face as he ran a hand, rather nervously through his hair.

“Well, I suppose, because you were so…close to Sirius and you spent more time at Grimmauld place than any of the others I…became…very fond of you.”

“Really?” She asked, realizing all too late how very juvenile she sounded.

“Yes,” he answered looking very juvenile himself, wearing a boyish half shy smile.

“The closer I am to people the more…difficult it is to tell them. I’m never quite sure how they will react.”

She felt a sudden urge to throw her arms around him and tell him that she didn’t give a whit about his being a Werewolf. That she had thought he was brilliant from the first moment she met him.

But, as she did not want to shock him any further. So instead, she did what she usually did best, she attempted to make light of the situation.

“Would you say that mine was the most off kilter?”

She was very pleased when he let out a soft chuckle.

“It was certainly the most imaginative guess I’ve ever heard. Though I do wonder at the lengths you took to arrive at your conclusion.”

“You mean sneaking into your bedroom?” Saying that phrase in this context made Tonks’ face burn an even brighter shade of red. She was determined to keep the banter going however.

“You could say I have an insatiable curiosity.” Perhaps she would try seduction after all. Not because she needed to, not because she wanted anything from him, simply because she could.

He chuckled even louder at that.
“God. I never thought I would hear a Woman say that with regards to me.”

“Why not?”

She asked with a genuine amount of curiosity. He turned and stared at her as though he thought her slightly insane.

“I should think that would be obvious to you. Especially knowing… most women run for the hills when I tell them the truth.”

Once again he looked vaguely sad at this thought, though he was trying desperately not to show it.

“Well, most women are idiots,” She said definitely. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“A prematurely middle aged bachelor with a socio-political stigma and a highly feared lunar habit?”

She slapped his arm lightly.

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You’re still young. There’s time.”

“I’m afraid I gave up any hope on the romantic front years ago Tonks. It’s not worth the risk.”

“And what risk is that?”

“Tonks! Once a month I turn into a blood thirsty monster!”

“That’s once a month. The rest of the time you’re a perfectly normal human being.”

“Not according to most people.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

To emphasize her point, and entirely without thinking she reached over, grabbed his face in both of her hands and kissed him.

His posture stiffened for a moment before she could feel him relax and soon he began to mimic the movement of her lips. She supposed that it was his acceptance of her kiss which finally brought her to her senses.

What on earth was she doing? Now he was going to think she was some insane little tart who accused men of being homicidal maniacs one moment, and snogged them without warning the next.
With all the effort she had in her, she pulled away from him.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Was that…okay?”

To her surprise he looked straight into her eyes and smiled.

“More than okay,” he said.

And suddenly, standing on a darkened, abandoned pier next to a Werewolf did not seem quite so sinister after all.