New Fic Teaser: Masks and Mirrors
In the next day...or two or three...I shall be posting the first chapter of a multi-chaptered Deathly Hallows-era Remus/Tonks action/adventure/mystery/suspense/romance fic. It's in the very capable hands of my very trusty beta godricgal, and thanks to her helping me sort through a rather staggering mountain of ideas, I'm very excited to write and share this WIP with y'all. And to hopefully get y'all excited about reading it, here's a little teaser from chapter one:
Tonks waved her wand to clear her Wolfsbane Potion brewing supplies off the dining table. "Did Harry find what he needed in Godric's Hollow?"
Remus' face was hidden as he bent to put the lasagne in the oven. "I believe so. He didn't talk much about seeing the house, or James' and Lily's graves, but he seemed older, and more sure, than before he left."
"Did you go?" Tonks opened a drawer and rifled through a number of tatty tea towels with faded Hufflepuff crests, Quidditch team insignias, and Weird Sisters logos till she found a crisp white linen table cloth and napkins. Or they would have been crisp, if she'd ironed them, and not stuck them in a drawer and left them there since her mother gave them as a housewarming gift. "To the sites, I mean."
Straightening, Remus nodded. "Not with Harry, but yes."
Tonks waited for him to elaborate further, but Remus merely reached for the opposite end of the tablecloth as Tonks unfurled it, and wordlessly helped her spread it over the table.
"What did you find?" she asked, not sure, due to his silence, what sort of response to expect. Sadness? Regret? Closure with a past he'd laid peacefully to rest?
Certainly she hadn't anticipated the lines of Remus' face to harden, or his eyes to go steely as he summoned a stack of plates from the cupboard, or his voice to be low and grim and dangerous as he said, "That if Dumbledore hadn't left us such indelible proof of Snape's loyalty to the Order, knowing everything that happened in that house sixteen years ago was his doing would drive me to hunt him down and kill him, not re-establish contact."
No. Tonks definitely hadn't expected that.
Nor the winded sensation of having been socked in the gut with a Bludger.
Nor the bitter burn of bile rising in her throat.
Nor the pressure in her joints as her fingers clutched a dinner plate so hard she couldn't believe it hadn't snapped in two.
Odd that the plate -- very proper white china trimmed with a bold, yet still elegant black stripe -- which had so annoyed her when her mother had given it to her for her housewarming, quelled her welling anger now. There wasn't time for anger at the moment. And Remus was right -- Dumbledore had left inarguable assurances of Snape's loyalty. He might be utterly despicable, but the Order needed him.
"Any inspiration about the contact thing?"
While Tonks laid the table, Remus moved to the cabinets and counted out place settings of silverware. "I still don't see any way other than to send in a messenger who's a decoy Death Eater. Finding a willing person, however...I can't think of anyone but me with a halfway decent cover for going underground. I could liaise with Severus through Greyback."
Luckily, Tonks had just set down the last of the plates, and set to work folding the napkins beside them. Her entire body went rigid, as though hit by a Stunner. Remus had not just said...
"Except you were seen at the Hogwarts battle!" she cried. "No one would believe for a second you're not Dumbledore's man!"
"If I convinced them I'd gone fer--"
"No!" Tonks shouted, unable to hear him finish the word, more profane and obscene to her than any swear word. Her voice and the rattle of the plates as she slammed a napkin down on the table, hung in the thick atmosphere of the kitchen.
Remus' eyebrows went up in a look of surprise, but otherwise he maintained that damn calm as he raised a conciliatory hand. "Nymphadora, I--"
"Don't call me Nymphadora! If someone's got to liaise with Snape, it ought to be me!" Air returned with force into her lungs, and her chest heaved with rapid breaths as she strode around the table to approach him. "Why in bloody hell would Dumbledore recruit a Metamorphmagus for the Order if not because it might come in handy if we ever needed to infiltrate the Death Eaters? It ought to be me." She stood almost on his toes now, hands balled into fists at her sides. "I can be anyone, dammit! Isn't that the ultimate cover?"
Tonks waved her wand to clear her Wolfsbane Potion brewing supplies off the dining table. "Did Harry find what he needed in Godric's Hollow?"
Remus' face was hidden as he bent to put the lasagne in the oven. "I believe so. He didn't talk much about seeing the house, or James' and Lily's graves, but he seemed older, and more sure, than before he left."
"Did you go?" Tonks opened a drawer and rifled through a number of tatty tea towels with faded Hufflepuff crests, Quidditch team insignias, and Weird Sisters logos till she found a crisp white linen table cloth and napkins. Or they would have been crisp, if she'd ironed them, and not stuck them in a drawer and left them there since her mother gave them as a housewarming gift. "To the sites, I mean."
Straightening, Remus nodded. "Not with Harry, but yes."
Tonks waited for him to elaborate further, but Remus merely reached for the opposite end of the tablecloth as Tonks unfurled it, and wordlessly helped her spread it over the table.
"What did you find?" she asked, not sure, due to his silence, what sort of response to expect. Sadness? Regret? Closure with a past he'd laid peacefully to rest?
Certainly she hadn't anticipated the lines of Remus' face to harden, or his eyes to go steely as he summoned a stack of plates from the cupboard, or his voice to be low and grim and dangerous as he said, "That if Dumbledore hadn't left us such indelible proof of Snape's loyalty to the Order, knowing everything that happened in that house sixteen years ago was his doing would drive me to hunt him down and kill him, not re-establish contact."
No. Tonks definitely hadn't expected that.
Nor the winded sensation of having been socked in the gut with a Bludger.
Nor the bitter burn of bile rising in her throat.
Nor the pressure in her joints as her fingers clutched a dinner plate so hard she couldn't believe it hadn't snapped in two.
Odd that the plate -- very proper white china trimmed with a bold, yet still elegant black stripe -- which had so annoyed her when her mother had given it to her for her housewarming, quelled her welling anger now. There wasn't time for anger at the moment. And Remus was right -- Dumbledore had left inarguable assurances of Snape's loyalty. He might be utterly despicable, but the Order needed him.
"Any inspiration about the contact thing?"
While Tonks laid the table, Remus moved to the cabinets and counted out place settings of silverware. "I still don't see any way other than to send in a messenger who's a decoy Death Eater. Finding a willing person, however...I can't think of anyone but me with a halfway decent cover for going underground. I could liaise with Severus through Greyback."
Luckily, Tonks had just set down the last of the plates, and set to work folding the napkins beside them. Her entire body went rigid, as though hit by a Stunner. Remus had not just said...
"Except you were seen at the Hogwarts battle!" she cried. "No one would believe for a second you're not Dumbledore's man!"
"If I convinced them I'd gone fer--"
"No!" Tonks shouted, unable to hear him finish the word, more profane and obscene to her than any swear word. Her voice and the rattle of the plates as she slammed a napkin down on the table, hung in the thick atmosphere of the kitchen.
Remus' eyebrows went up in a look of surprise, but otherwise he maintained that damn calm as he raised a conciliatory hand. "Nymphadora, I--"
"Don't call me Nymphadora! If someone's got to liaise with Snape, it ought to be me!" Air returned with force into her lungs, and her chest heaved with rapid breaths as she strode around the table to approach him. "Why in bloody hell would Dumbledore recruit a Metamorphmagus for the Order if not because it might come in handy if we ever needed to infiltrate the Death Eaters? It ought to be me." She stood almost on his toes now, hands balled into fists at her sides. "I can be anyone, dammit! Isn't that the ultimate cover?"