[Kaleidoscope update] The Lie of the Land

Sep 02, 2012 20:26

Oh, I had such plans for progress on the Kaleidoscope series this summer! But at least pulped_fictions has just had, uncharacteristically, a fanfic event. So I took advantage of the opportunity to get a new chapter together. It's a shorter one, but it picks up right after Initiation Angles of Perception ends. (The Pulped version is here, but it's a members-only comm.)
  • The Lie of the Land (1605 words | PG)
    Remus Lupin learns a few things about the newest Order member, Nymphadora Tonks, when he recruits her for a spot of pranking. It does occur to him to wonder what she might have learned, in turn.

Chapter 2
The Lie of the Land
“Have a seat,” said Remus. “Strategy session.” Despite his worry for Sirius, he felt a grin starting, in honour of his new accomplice.

“Okay.” Tonks pushed off from the wall and joined him at the kitchen table, dropping into one of the worn wooden chairs. She met his grin with one of her own. “Where do we start?”

He had to give this Nymphadora Tonks credit for adaptability. She’d poked her head round the door into the kitchen and only just missed being flattened by Sirius as he went storming out in a roaring tantrum. Remus had expected her to make her excuses and slip away-surely she had only stopped by tonight to get to know her cousin better. But some instinct had goaded him into recruiting her to help him shake Sirius out of his mood.

And he’d clearly caught her interest with his invitation.

She was watching him now, with bright dark eyes under a thatch of bubble-gum-pink spikes. It was hard to think of her as an Auror, small as she was, wearing ripped jeans and a thoroughly faded Hobgoblins concert T-shirt. But Remus had known Mad-Eye Moody for a long time, and he gathered that Tonks had been a particular protegée of the paranoid old fighter. So he knew better than to underestimate her.

“Sirius always used to tell the best stories, when I was a sprog,” she said, her grin mellowing into a fond smile at the memory. “About the pranks he used to play at Hogwarts with his friends. I suppose you were one of those?”

“I was,” said Remus, keeping his tone light.

But she must have seen something, because her gaze sharpened, and her voice softened just a fraction. “And James Potter was another, was he?”

“Yes,” said Remus, with a shrug and a smile that were only slightly forced. “We got up to all kinds of mischief together.” No sense bringing up Peter... “That’s why I could use your perspective here. Might be easier to catch Sirius off guard with a prank if it’s not just me behind it.”

“Right,” said Tonks. The determined set of her jaw was uncannily like Sirius in one of his stubborn moods. She stared down at the table, tracing along some of the cracks and scratches with her finger.

Remus poured her a glass of firewhisky to match the one he’d been drinking, and the one Sirius had abandoned.

“Ta,” she said, raising it in his direction. She took a cautious sip, swallowed carefully, and set it down. Then she blinked once or twice and straightened up with a look of triumph. “I have it. Socks.”

“Socks?” Remus, bemused, took a sip of his own drink.

“Socks.” Her grin was wide, and possibly slightly smug. “Socks are intrinsically funny, right? So we start there.”

~ * ~
Not ten minutes later, the table was littered with scraps of parchment, all lists and notes and diagrams. The glasses of firewhisky sat nearly untouched. Tonks was wholly absorbed in prank creation.

And Remus, although he was holding his own as they plotted and schemed, found himself increasingly intrigued by Tonks.

With her sharp eyes and ready grin, she reminded him a little of Sirius-the old Sirius, from before Azkaban. But not entirely. Even as a boy, Sirius had a dark edge to his humour that was missing in his cousin. Most likely, Remus thought, glancing around the soot-stained kitchen, this was because Tonks hadn’t grown up in the House of Black.

“Filth!” The sudden creaky mutter came from just outside the kitchen door.

Remus had to suppress a bitter smile. Such excellent timing. But Tonks started, eyes wide, and her wand was in her hand before Remus could so much as blink. Moody would have been pleased with her reflexes.

“It’s only the house-elf,” Remus murmured. “He’s very old, and he seems not to be quite right in the head-he’ll make a point of insulting you, so just try to ignore him.”

“Oh,” Tonks whispered, her eyes now alight with curiosity. “Is it Kreacher? My mum used to tell stories about visiting this house when she was a girl.” She turned in her chair and raised her voice. “Kreacher?”

The wrinkled, wizened house-elf slunk into the kitchen, wringing his hands. “Oh, poor Mistress, to have such abominations in her house!”

“Come over here, Kreacher,” said Tonks. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Andromeda’s daughter.”

The house-elf ignored her direct command, but looked right at her. “Filth,” he said again. “Shape-shifting half-blood freaks. And bloodthirsty monsters.” He fixed baleful eyes on Remus for a moment before turning and shuffling away again.

“That’s a first,” said Tonks, wrinkling her nose. “I’ve met plenty of people who don’t trust me because I’m a Metamorphmagus, but I’ve not been called bloodthirsty before.” She shrugged. “Guess you’re right-he has gone round the twist.”

Remus smoothed out a crumpled piece of parchment, drawing a careful breath, focussing on his now slightly ink-stained fingers.

Was Tonks just saying that to lighten the moment?

Or did she actually not know that he was a werewolf?

She had shaken his hand, at her first Order meeting, without even the slightest sign of hesitation. So either she was remarkably open-minded, or-

-she didn’t know.

You should tell her, warned a stern voice in his head. She’s your Order colleague. She deserves to know.

Which was entirely true.

Remus looked up just in time to see Tonks flash him a conspiratorial grin with a gleam of mischief in her eye that was more than worthy of a Marauder.

She was fun.

And she might know already, in which case there was nothing to be gained by bringing it up except for embarrassment and awkwardness on all sides.

His name had been all over the Daily Prophet a year ago. Surely Aurors were informed-surely they read the papers.

He decided that he would settle for the “remarkably open-minded” hypothesis and not think about things too awfully hard. If she didn’t know already, someone in the Order would say something soon enough.

Right now, Remus preferred to enjoy her friendly smile while it was still directed at him.

~ * ~
They held their breath, listening. Tonks caught his eye and her grin broke out again, the brightest thing in the shadowy kitchen, brighter even than her spiky pink hair. Remus couldn’t help but grin back. He felt a little like a fourth-year, hiding behind one of the staircases at Hogwarts with his friends, waiting for some elaborate prank to be tripped.

They didn’t have to wait long. Rapid footsteps sounded on the stairs, and a scowling face peered around the edge of the door.

This scowl, though, wasn’t a mark of the poisonous rage that had sent Sirius barrelling upstairs earlier in the evening. This was the kind of perfunctory scowl that was trying to stop itself from twitching into a grin. Remus relaxed, quelling a smile of his own, although he didn’t bother to keep it from showing in his eyes.

“Full marks for the synchronised sock choreography, Moony,” Sirius drawled. “But-music from the Weird Sisters? I never would have guessed you were a fan.”

“I had,” said Remus, with an admittedly smug nod in Tonks’s direction, “an accomplice.” Sirius hadn’t seemed to notice her arrival when he stomped past earlier that evening, mid-tantrum.

“Wotcher, Sirius,” said the accomplice in question.

Sirius turned his head to see his little cousin wiggling her fingers at him. “Wotcher, Dora! Er, Tonks,” he amended hastily, when she fixed him with a look. “Merlin, but you’re just like your mum when you glare at me like that.”

Her eyes went wide with horror. “I am not.”

“Trust me,” said Sirius, pulling a chair out from the table and settling into it with a comfortable slouch. “Spitting image.”

Remus sat back and listened to them banter, nursing his firewhisky. A smile, or even a laugh, crossed Sirius’s gaunt face much more often than usual. He clearly found Tonks to be just as much of a bright spot in this dark house as Remus had already begun to do.

Would she keep visiting? Anything that cheered Sirius up was to be most strongly encouraged.

And if it happened to cheer Remus up too, well, that was a bonus stroke of luck.

“Tell me you weren’t in Slytherin, at least,” the heir to the House of Black was saying.

“Slytherin House is not necessarily a nest of vipers,” Tonks insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s my mum, for one.” But Sirius raised a sceptical eyebrow, and she laughed, relenting. “Okay. I was in Hufflepuff. Like Dad.”

“I’m shocked!” Sirius shook his head, feigning disappointment. “No cousin of mine belongs with that bunch of duffers.”

“Prat.” Tonks wrinkled her nose, and punched Sirius lightly on the shoulder. “Gryffindor bravery has its place, and all. But you should be glad I’m a Hufflepuff.”

“Why’s that?” Sirius’s eyebrow climbed again.

Tonks went on smirking, but she leaned toward him across the table, and all at once her dark eyes were almost solemn. “Because you’ll never have a more loyal friend, that’s why.”

Sirius blinked, and nodded a little, before reaching for his firewhisky.

She sat back in her chair, satisfied. “Can’t get rid of a Hufflepuff, you know. So I reckon you’ll be seeing a fair bit of me around here.”

Remus, safe in his quiet corner, smiled at the byplay-and silently applauded Tonks for her deliberate display of friendship toward her cousin.

He was caught completely off guard when the impish grin Tonks had aimed at Sirius swung round and found him, too.

~ * ~

[ ← Chapter 1 | → Chapter 3 | ↑ Kaleidoscope series index ]
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remus/tonks, kaleidoscope, stories

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