Juliet is lying out on the cool grass and looking up at the starry sky with both wonder and jealousy. She is thinking about many things tonight, not just Romeo for a change, but she is a bit lonely so company is always welcome
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Here, Harry. Have a Tonks. She recognizes the trunk as being something like what Hogwarts students use. Plus, y'know, wand in back pocket, kind of a giveaway."
"Yeah." She grins widely, and if he looks closely, he might see that her eyes are a ridiculously unnatural shade of violet. They match the streaks in her hair. "Fifth year, 1988, Hufflepuff. You look familiar. I'm Dora Tonks, by the way."
Please, ignore the fact that she just tripped over thin air a little.
"Huh? Oh! Uhm, I'm well, on summer vacation, but I'll be fourth year when I get back. I'm in Gryffindor." Harry pauses, taking in the year she's said. He'd been born a few years by then. She'll know who he is, unless she's from a seriously alternate universe. He almost wishes for that. "1994. Harry... Potter. 'S nice to meet you."
"Yeah?" He's used to the You're Harry?, but the rest of it, he hadn't been expecting.
"You... you knew my dad? Are you a cousin or something? I didn't think he had any family." If his father did have family, why wasn't he allowed to live with them, instead of being shoved off with the Dursleys? Simply more questions to be asked.
"Well, not really, exactly," Dora says quickly. "My dad and my mum knew your parents. From fighting in the war. I was eight when they... well." She tilts her head. "You look a lot like Uncle James. Got Aunt Lily's eyes, though. And nose."
"Her nose? Really? I get the eye comment all the time, but no one's ever said that... about her nose." Harry smiles, touching his nose softly as if its now some kind of connection to her, and then he blushes a bit, realizing that must look odd.
Dora nods. "I notice stuff like that. Noses and jawlines and eye shape..." She shifts her appearance so that she actually looks like she could be Harry's blonde-haired, violet-eyed sister. "I like stealing people's features, when they look good."
"Metamorphmagus," Dora says simply. Then she pauses. Even some wizards who grew up with the culture didn't know what a metamorphmagus was, and if Sirius was right about him being raised by muggles... "Um, it's something I was born with. Doesn't happen too often, but I can change my appearance at will."
Dora wrinkles her nose a bit, making a sympathetic face. "Yeah, I don't envy ya that." Her accent is faintly Irish. Not that Harry probably cares. She peers at the scar for a moment, then there's a nearly-exact duplicate on her forehead.
She grins. "There. Now you're 'the boy who has a matching scar with Tonks'."
Harry laughs and nods. "I like that a lot better, I think. A lot." He smiles, unable to get over how odd that looks on someone else. No wonder people gawk at him so often, even if you didn't know the story behind it, it's got an odd look to it. As a child, he was often teased in school for it.
"It looks good on you." And then he blushes again and shakes his head at himself.
"Thanks!" Dora's pretty incompetent when it comes to anything non-academic. Well, she's not a bad flyer. But the incompetency does extend to anything resembling possible flirting.
She hardly notices the blush.
"It doesn't look bad on you. I mean, it's not NICE, certainly, but it's not hideous or anything."
"Yeah, it just... lot's of bad memories behind it, I guess. And it's like a neon sign on my forehead, really." Harry shakes his head. "If it were just a scar from falling of a tree or something, I don't think I'd hate it so much."
"Wotcher. You from Hogwarts?"
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Apparently, not, and apparently, wizards and witches made up a large portion of the population here. Not that he was complaining about that.
"You too, then?" He winces a bit at his lack of questioning skills. Well, that's bloody obvious, you dolt.
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Please, ignore the fact that she just tripped over thin air a little.
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"Huh? Oh! Uhm, I'm well, on summer vacation, but I'll be fourth year when I get back. I'm in Gryffindor." Harry pauses, taking in the year she's said. He'd been born a few years by then. She'll know who he is, unless she's from a seriously alternate universe. He almost wishes for that. "1994. Harry... Potter. 'S nice to meet you."
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"You're Harry? Baby Harry? Uncle James' son?" Well, she was young when Harry was born, but she remembers it.
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"You... you knew my dad? Are you a cousin or something? I didn't think he had any family." If his father did have family, why wasn't he allowed to live with them, instead of being shoved off with the Dursleys? Simply more questions to be asked.
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Now that's likely a new one.
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It's a good look on her.
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"You just... just like that? The only time I've ever taken someone else's appearance, we had to concoct a potion and all. Tasted horrible."
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Look, pink spiky hair!
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"If I could, I'd change my scar so no one could see it, and then I'd just be any normal person, wizard...whatever."
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She grins. "There. Now you're 'the boy who has a matching scar with Tonks'."
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"It looks good on you." And then he blushes again and shakes his head at himself.
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She hardly notices the blush.
"It doesn't look bad on you. I mean, it's not NICE, certainly, but it's not hideous or anything."
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