HP: Impressions
Title: Impressions
Author: MrsTater
Rating: PG
Format & Word Count: Fic, 1650 words
Summary: When Tonks can't settle a hair colour, Ginny suspects there may be more behind her fuss over her appearance than mere indecision.
Author's Note: A prelude to chapter three of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, this fic was written for the February 2006 Remus/Tonks ficathon at rt_challenge, for the prompt: There will be time, there will be time / To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; / There will be time to murder and create, / And time for all the works and days of hands / That lift and drop a question on your plate; / Time for you and time for me, / And time yet for a hundred indecisions, / And for a hundred visions and revisions, / Before the taking of a toast and tea. (from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot)
Impressions
While Tonks scrutinised herself in the mirror, she noticed Ginny's reflection just beyond her own. The pyjama-clad teenager lolled on the bed, chin propped on her hands, lips pursed and appraising and…uncannily Molly-like.
"Colour's no good?" Tonks asked, trying not to sound offended.
"Too ordinary for you."
Tonks generally appreciated frankness, but Ginny's remark stung. Brown was Tonks' natural colour, and though she habitually shunned it for less conventional hues, today she'd thought ordinary would be a good look. After all, Dumbledore had appointed her to the Advance Guard - her first real mission for the Order - and she wanted to make a good impression on her more seasoned and…well…ordinary team-mates.
"Girl's right," said Tonks' reflection. "Mousy brown isn't eye-catching."
"I'm not trying to catch eyes," Tonks replied in an even tone. "I'm trying to look professional."
"Keep telling yourself that, dear."
Inhaling sharply, Tonks darted her gaze to Ginny. Fortunately, the teenager only appeared amused by the talking mirror, and didn't seem to read anything serious into its remarks - which, Tonks couldn't deny, were true.
With a sigh of relief and resignation, Tonks scrunched her face and concentrated on a new hairstyle. A split-second later, the cropped locks extended to her shoulders, and then, like a candle bursting into flame, shone fiery red.
The old iron bedstead creaked as Ginny bounced on the overstuffed mattress, laughing delightedly. "You look like my twin!"
Normally Tonks wouldn't have minded looking like one of the Weasley clan. They were lovely people, and besides that, everyone knew red hair turned heads. Today, however, the last thing Tonks wanted was for Remus to turn his head and be reminded of a former student. She changed her hair to black.
"Blimey," said Ginny, awe-struck. "Did you do something to your face?"
"No." Tonks leaned forward to inspect her face more closely. "Why?"
"I never noticed how much you look like Sirius."
Handsome though Sirius was, looking like Remus' best mate was really the last thing Tonks wanted. But when she metamorphosed the last remaining hair-colour that was both ordinary and eye-catching - cascading blonde tresses - Ginny recoiled.
"Ugh! Fleur Delacour!"
"Doesn't Bill fancy her?"
"They all do." Ginny's face contorted as though she'd eaten one of Bertie Bott's bogey-flavoured beans. "Change, Tonks, please."
Tonks did not change, but instead remained gazing in the mirror. She ran her fingers through the silky, waist-length strands and mulled over whether all wizards preferred this kind of beauty.
"Lot of good it'll do you to look like a veela," said Tonks' reflection, "when you trip about like a buffoon."
"Tonks," said Ginny slyly, sliding out of bed and pulling on her dressing gown, "why would you want to look like a veela? Are you trying to impress someone?"
Tonks tried to adjust her skin tone to hide her blush, but she'd mastered that technique about as well as she had householdy spells.
"You are!" Ginny scurried to Tonks' side and clasped her hands. "Who d'you like? Is it Bill?"
For a moment, Tonks panicked. She didn't particularly care if people knew her regard for Remus, but it didn't seem right to make the truth known to Ginny, who would inevitably tell Hermione…And then Ron and the twins would surely find out, and of course Remus would be mortified…Yet Tonks didn't feel right lying to Ginny, either. If only she hadn't given herself away!
Suddenly, she was inspired with an answer that wasn't exactly a lie. "Of course I'm trying to impress someone," Tonks said. "I'm meeting Harry Potter today."
Ginny's face briefly matched her hair, but the blush was almost instantly replaced with a look that frequently crossed the twins' faces: the expression of having been struck with a grand - and impish - idea. She clutched Tonks' hands tighter and said breathlessly, "Harry won't have met a Metamorphmagus before. You should do one of your cool hair colours and something nutty, like the pig nose."
Tonks barely stopped herself from blurting that affecting a snout was the surest way to achieve the opposite of attracting Remus. Instead, she gave a snort of laughter. "Right, and Mad-Eye'd growl at me about it being impossible to maintain constant vigilance whilst holding a pig nose morph."
"Oh, that sounds exactly like what he'd say!" cried Ginny, letting go of Tonks' hands.
While foregoing Ginny's suggestion of proboscises, Tonks did shorten her hair to bright purple spikes. At last, she was met with approval.
"Brilliant!" Ginny said. "It goes well with your clothes."
For the first time, Tonks' gaze darted from her hair to her Weird Sisters t-shirt. Merlin's beard, why had she picked this? She'd rolled out of bed and thrown it on without considering how it marked her age. Combined with her punk hair, she would unquestionably stand out as the youngest, most inexperienced…
"Morning, Professor Lupin!"
Ginny's greeting, directed at the open bedroom door, made Tonks start. She jumped again when she glanced into the corridor just in time to see him pass.
"Good morning, Ginny," Remus said politely as he backed up and peered shyly into the room.
"Wotcher, Remus." Tonks mustered a casual tone, though her throat had gone suddenly dry.
"Hello, Nymphadora." As Remus regarded her with a faint smile, his fingers fidgeted with the buttons of his threadbare and much-darned jumper. "Ready for our briefing?"
"S'why I'm here before work." She cursed herself for sounding terse, but attributed her careless tone to concentrating very hard on not tripping over the woven rug as she crossed the room.
Remus stood aside for her to exit, but midway through the door, Tonks glanced back to say goodbye to Ginny. She caught her foot on the jamb and stumbled, and Remus automatically reached out to steady her.
Though mortified, Tonks glanced up at him; she had to see his reaction. A tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes twinkled. He might not be making any sound, but he was laughing. Tonks pulled her arm from his grasp. Why was he still holding her, anyway? She'd barely lost her balance. She swallowed painfully as the colour drained from her face and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. In the space of a minute, before the mission had got underway, she'd killed her chances of making a good impression on him.
"Do me a favour, Remus," she said glumly as they fell into step in the dark, dingy corridor, "and don't tell Harry my first name."
They had reached the stairs, but Remus paused before descending. "Are you sure? I think it would give him a better picture of your personality if he hears the name in conjunction with the sight of that violently violet hair."
Hot words leapt to her tongue, but her brain registered that he meant no offence. Remus was teasing; his voice was light, and his face crinkled with smile lines. Tonks liked the way Remus teased - usually. Now it made her self-conscious. Her hand flew to her coif, upon which his eyes were fixed.
"Yeah," she said shakily. "D'you think it's unprofessional?"
"If it's not unprofessional for the Ministry of Magic," he said with a grin, "I don't see why it should be unprofessional for the Order of the Phoenix." With a light hand on her shoulder, Remus turned her toward the stairs. "If you want to revise it, you will have plenty of time after our meeting."
He spoke kindly, but try as she might, Tonks couldn't work out what he meant. Did Remus like her hair or not? Had she made a good impression, or had she wrecked her chances of him seeing her as more than a friend…or colleague…or - Merlin forbid - someone to be mentored?
As she was wont to do in awkward moments, Tonks chattered mindlessly as she descended the stairs ahead of him, her voice loud so Remus would hear over her clomping treads. "I know why you're making me go in front."
"Allowing you, not making you," Remus corrected in a clear professor's tone - though it did not contain a note of condescension. "I am a firm believer in ladies first."
Tonks stopped abruptly and glanced at him over her shoulder. "Especially when the lady might trip and fall and take you down with her?"
"If I were truly a gentleman, I would go first and cushion your fall."
He now stood on the same step as Tonks. His nearness made her feel off-balance. As they continued down the staircase, side-by-side, she clutched the banister tightly. "Knowing me, I'd somehow manage to injure or kill you. The Advance Guard would be short a leader."
"So you will forgive my lapse in chivalry, since it's in Harry's best interest?"
They were laughing as they entered the basement kitchen, and Tonks realised the banter - no, the flirtation - had brightened her mood and raised her expectations for the rest of the day. Maybe things would go her way after all. Maybe they already were going her way.
The rest of the Advance Guard were already seated around the table. Remus drew out a chair for Tonks, then seated himself next to her. Tonks noticed Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones exchanging conspiratorial glances; she guessed they'd arranged for the two remaining seats to be together and made a mental note that if all went as she hoped, she would send the two older witches very nice Christmas cards.
Remus passed Tonks the plate of toast before taking any for himself, and while she spread marmalade on a slice, he poured her a cup of tea. To Tonks' further delight, he knew without asking how much cream and sugar she took.
In that moment, Tonks had a better idea of what he meant when he'd teased her about her hair and name, and about the impression she had made on him.
She just wished she knew if Remus liked her violet hair.
Author: MrsTater
Rating: PG
Format & Word Count: Fic, 1650 words
Summary: When Tonks can't settle a hair colour, Ginny suspects there may be more behind her fuss over her appearance than mere indecision.
Author's Note: A prelude to chapter three of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, this fic was written for the February 2006 Remus/Tonks ficathon at rt_challenge, for the prompt: There will be time, there will be time / To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; / There will be time to murder and create, / And time for all the works and days of hands / That lift and drop a question on your plate; / Time for you and time for me, / And time yet for a hundred indecisions, / And for a hundred visions and revisions, / Before the taking of a toast and tea. (from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot)
Impressions
While Tonks scrutinised herself in the mirror, she noticed Ginny's reflection just beyond her own. The pyjama-clad teenager lolled on the bed, chin propped on her hands, lips pursed and appraising and…uncannily Molly-like.
"Colour's no good?" Tonks asked, trying not to sound offended.
"Too ordinary for you."
Tonks generally appreciated frankness, but Ginny's remark stung. Brown was Tonks' natural colour, and though she habitually shunned it for less conventional hues, today she'd thought ordinary would be a good look. After all, Dumbledore had appointed her to the Advance Guard - her first real mission for the Order - and she wanted to make a good impression on her more seasoned and…well…ordinary team-mates.
"Girl's right," said Tonks' reflection. "Mousy brown isn't eye-catching."
"I'm not trying to catch eyes," Tonks replied in an even tone. "I'm trying to look professional."
"Keep telling yourself that, dear."
Inhaling sharply, Tonks darted her gaze to Ginny. Fortunately, the teenager only appeared amused by the talking mirror, and didn't seem to read anything serious into its remarks - which, Tonks couldn't deny, were true.
With a sigh of relief and resignation, Tonks scrunched her face and concentrated on a new hairstyle. A split-second later, the cropped locks extended to her shoulders, and then, like a candle bursting into flame, shone fiery red.
The old iron bedstead creaked as Ginny bounced on the overstuffed mattress, laughing delightedly. "You look like my twin!"
Normally Tonks wouldn't have minded looking like one of the Weasley clan. They were lovely people, and besides that, everyone knew red hair turned heads. Today, however, the last thing Tonks wanted was for Remus to turn his head and be reminded of a former student. She changed her hair to black.
"Blimey," said Ginny, awe-struck. "Did you do something to your face?"
"No." Tonks leaned forward to inspect her face more closely. "Why?"
"I never noticed how much you look like Sirius."
Handsome though Sirius was, looking like Remus' best mate was really the last thing Tonks wanted. But when she metamorphosed the last remaining hair-colour that was both ordinary and eye-catching - cascading blonde tresses - Ginny recoiled.
"Ugh! Fleur Delacour!"
"Doesn't Bill fancy her?"
"They all do." Ginny's face contorted as though she'd eaten one of Bertie Bott's bogey-flavoured beans. "Change, Tonks, please."
Tonks did not change, but instead remained gazing in the mirror. She ran her fingers through the silky, waist-length strands and mulled over whether all wizards preferred this kind of beauty.
"Lot of good it'll do you to look like a veela," said Tonks' reflection, "when you trip about like a buffoon."
"Tonks," said Ginny slyly, sliding out of bed and pulling on her dressing gown, "why would you want to look like a veela? Are you trying to impress someone?"
Tonks tried to adjust her skin tone to hide her blush, but she'd mastered that technique about as well as she had householdy spells.
"You are!" Ginny scurried to Tonks' side and clasped her hands. "Who d'you like? Is it Bill?"
For a moment, Tonks panicked. She didn't particularly care if people knew her regard for Remus, but it didn't seem right to make the truth known to Ginny, who would inevitably tell Hermione…And then Ron and the twins would surely find out, and of course Remus would be mortified…Yet Tonks didn't feel right lying to Ginny, either. If only she hadn't given herself away!
Suddenly, she was inspired with an answer that wasn't exactly a lie. "Of course I'm trying to impress someone," Tonks said. "I'm meeting Harry Potter today."
Ginny's face briefly matched her hair, but the blush was almost instantly replaced with a look that frequently crossed the twins' faces: the expression of having been struck with a grand - and impish - idea. She clutched Tonks' hands tighter and said breathlessly, "Harry won't have met a Metamorphmagus before. You should do one of your cool hair colours and something nutty, like the pig nose."
Tonks barely stopped herself from blurting that affecting a snout was the surest way to achieve the opposite of attracting Remus. Instead, she gave a snort of laughter. "Right, and Mad-Eye'd growl at me about it being impossible to maintain constant vigilance whilst holding a pig nose morph."
"Oh, that sounds exactly like what he'd say!" cried Ginny, letting go of Tonks' hands.
While foregoing Ginny's suggestion of proboscises, Tonks did shorten her hair to bright purple spikes. At last, she was met with approval.
"Brilliant!" Ginny said. "It goes well with your clothes."
For the first time, Tonks' gaze darted from her hair to her Weird Sisters t-shirt. Merlin's beard, why had she picked this? She'd rolled out of bed and thrown it on without considering how it marked her age. Combined with her punk hair, she would unquestionably stand out as the youngest, most inexperienced…
"Morning, Professor Lupin!"
Ginny's greeting, directed at the open bedroom door, made Tonks start. She jumped again when she glanced into the corridor just in time to see him pass.
"Good morning, Ginny," Remus said politely as he backed up and peered shyly into the room.
"Wotcher, Remus." Tonks mustered a casual tone, though her throat had gone suddenly dry.
"Hello, Nymphadora." As Remus regarded her with a faint smile, his fingers fidgeted with the buttons of his threadbare and much-darned jumper. "Ready for our briefing?"
"S'why I'm here before work." She cursed herself for sounding terse, but attributed her careless tone to concentrating very hard on not tripping over the woven rug as she crossed the room.
Remus stood aside for her to exit, but midway through the door, Tonks glanced back to say goodbye to Ginny. She caught her foot on the jamb and stumbled, and Remus automatically reached out to steady her.
Though mortified, Tonks glanced up at him; she had to see his reaction. A tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes twinkled. He might not be making any sound, but he was laughing. Tonks pulled her arm from his grasp. Why was he still holding her, anyway? She'd barely lost her balance. She swallowed painfully as the colour drained from her face and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. In the space of a minute, before the mission had got underway, she'd killed her chances of making a good impression on him.
"Do me a favour, Remus," she said glumly as they fell into step in the dark, dingy corridor, "and don't tell Harry my first name."
They had reached the stairs, but Remus paused before descending. "Are you sure? I think it would give him a better picture of your personality if he hears the name in conjunction with the sight of that violently violet hair."
Hot words leapt to her tongue, but her brain registered that he meant no offence. Remus was teasing; his voice was light, and his face crinkled with smile lines. Tonks liked the way Remus teased - usually. Now it made her self-conscious. Her hand flew to her coif, upon which his eyes were fixed.
"Yeah," she said shakily. "D'you think it's unprofessional?"
"If it's not unprofessional for the Ministry of Magic," he said with a grin, "I don't see why it should be unprofessional for the Order of the Phoenix." With a light hand on her shoulder, Remus turned her toward the stairs. "If you want to revise it, you will have plenty of time after our meeting."
He spoke kindly, but try as she might, Tonks couldn't work out what he meant. Did Remus like her hair or not? Had she made a good impression, or had she wrecked her chances of him seeing her as more than a friend…or colleague…or - Merlin forbid - someone to be mentored?
As she was wont to do in awkward moments, Tonks chattered mindlessly as she descended the stairs ahead of him, her voice loud so Remus would hear over her clomping treads. "I know why you're making me go in front."
"Allowing you, not making you," Remus corrected in a clear professor's tone - though it did not contain a note of condescension. "I am a firm believer in ladies first."
Tonks stopped abruptly and glanced at him over her shoulder. "Especially when the lady might trip and fall and take you down with her?"
"If I were truly a gentleman, I would go first and cushion your fall."
He now stood on the same step as Tonks. His nearness made her feel off-balance. As they continued down the staircase, side-by-side, she clutched the banister tightly. "Knowing me, I'd somehow manage to injure or kill you. The Advance Guard would be short a leader."
"So you will forgive my lapse in chivalry, since it's in Harry's best interest?"
They were laughing as they entered the basement kitchen, and Tonks realised the banter - no, the flirtation - had brightened her mood and raised her expectations for the rest of the day. Maybe things would go her way after all. Maybe they already were going her way.
The rest of the Advance Guard were already seated around the table. Remus drew out a chair for Tonks, then seated himself next to her. Tonks noticed Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones exchanging conspiratorial glances; she guessed they'd arranged for the two remaining seats to be together and made a mental note that if all went as she hoped, she would send the two older witches very nice Christmas cards.
Remus passed Tonks the plate of toast before taking any for himself, and while she spread marmalade on a slice, he poured her a cup of tea. To Tonks' further delight, he knew without asking how much cream and sugar she took.
In that moment, Tonks had a better idea of what he meant when he'd teased her about her hair and name, and about the impression she had made on him.
She just wished she knew if Remus liked her violet hair.