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Old 08-01-2007, 01:00 AM   #470 (permalink)

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Join Date: Sep 2003
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Phoebe James
First Year

x7 x8

Ministry RPG Name:
Genevieve James
Law Enforcement

Ministry RPG Name:
Carrigan Howard
Accidents & Catastrophes
Made of Awesome | Ern-la the Best-wa | TZ's Apogee

So here's the deal. I'm posting what I'd written just before the last book. IT IS NOT BASED ON CANON. Period. I am taking a brief hiatus to revamp the old posts so they are correct with what we now know, and then I'm rewriting the entire Christmas scene.

In case you're wondering... I do not plan at this time to continue the story beyond what is contained in the sixth book. But you never know what will happen. Regardless, I am continuing, and here's a nugget of non-story to tide you over. Yes... I'm mean to my characters. Constantly.

Last, if you want to comment, remember the no spoiler policy is still in place. If you want, you can PM me to discuss things that happen to come to mind that have to do with the seventh book. Much love to you all.

Percy seemed somewhat at odds with himself. Politeness demanded he acknowledge Andromeda’s remonstrance, but his ambition dictated he follow the Minister’s lead. Tonks could see him struggling between disowning his parents publicly and apologizing to the very nice pureblood lady in front of him.

Scrimgeour’s expression was almost friendly as he leaned over Tonks’ mother’s hand for a kiss.

“How gallant,” Andromeda murmured, the oddest expression on her face.

“And revolting,” Tonks added helpfully. She was unabashed by the withering look directed her way.

Once Percy realized no response was necessary, he resumed that annoyingly arrogant strut (git-like, the voice of a Weasley twin whispered in her head) into the room. Tonks wasn’t willing to let him off the hook that easily.

“You heard Bill’s getting married?” She stepped behind him and helped him sit on the couch. He responded with an indignant sniff, looking around for the Minister. “Going to chuck out their Christmas presents again this year?” She nearly leapt onto the couch, causing him to topple to the side.

He righted himself, glasses dangling from one ear. “For your information, Miss Tonks,” he forcibly shoved his glasses at her name, “the Minister and I were on our way to the Weasley abode after our stop here.” He was suffering from that same affliction again – wanting to show disapproval without showing doubt at the precious Minister’s decisions.

Tonks covered her surprise with scorn. “What are you doing here, Mr. Weasley?”

Percy turned red, and Tonks found some small pleasure in making him uncomfortable. It was neither kind, nor mature, but it made up for how he’d behaved to his family and even made her heartbreak ease. No wonder people treated each other miserably when they were miserable.

“We… erm… that is to say… the Minister wanted to deliver a gift to this particular acquaintance himself…” He looked as if she were giving him the worst kind of torture and interrogation. Stupid prat.

Tonks opened her mouth to tell him that his answer was really not an answer at all, but she was interrupted by a peal of girlish laughter. Her head turned in what felt like slow motion to take in her mother, her hand resting on Scrimgeour’s arm.

“No way…” She turned to Percy, accusingly. He mumbled something noncommittal under his breath, referring repeatedly to ‘not my business’ and ‘personal matters.’ Tonks grunted and continued to stare. This was why her mother had been spending so much time at the Ministry, why she’d been reinstated so quickly? Because her mother was… flirting with the Minister. “I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, and Percy gave her a sympathetic look, although it was quite for a different reason.

“Now, now, Nymphadora,” Scrimgeour came back to the couch with Andromeda, and Tonks turned anguished eyes to her mother. “I trust you’ve heard about your friend Dawlish? Spending the holidays in St. Mungo’s, I’m afraid.” His tone was conversational.

“Dawlish?” Tonks had heard no such thing, but she’d had several days off in a row for the holidays. She hadn’t heard a peep from the Auror office. In fact, she hadn’t heard from the Order either, although she was so far removed from them now, contact was few and far between. Mostly just letters from Molly begging her to come over for the holidays. “Death Eaters… sir?”

He seemed far too jolly to be allowed, especially considering he was ruining her Christmas. “No, actually. He was tailing Dumbledore and the old coot hexed him. He’ll be back by New Year’s.”

“Tailing Dumbledore wasn’t part of our mission,” Tonks frowned, her mind shifting easily from personal issues to work mode. She relished being able to focus on something other than her mother’s social calendar. “In fact, I’m certain we were asked to work cooperatively with Dumbledore.”

Scrimgeour’s smile turned a bit forced and he took Andromeda’s hand and placed it forcefully onto his arm, patting it. “Obviously, Nymphadora, you aren’t aware of the orders each of your fellows has received.” Andromeda tilted her head back to give him a look through narrowed eyes, as if just becoming aware of his presence in the room.

“But I should be! We shouldn’t each be given individual orders, nor secret ones… sir.” Oh, she was trying. She really was! But it was stupid to put someone on Dumbledore when there were Death Eaters at large. He was on their side. “Dumbledore isn’t an enemy, sir. He’s with us. He’s… our leader, practically.”

“No,” Scrimgeour snapped, his eyes glinting dangerously. “I’m your leader. I’m the Minister of Magic, and even Albus Dumbledore falls under my purview. If he refuses to share his movements in the cause with me, then I shall consider him to be working against me. I don’t have to explain myself to you, Nymphadora.”

“She prefers to be called Tonks,” Andromeda Black Tonks pulled her hand free and straightened up. “And I’d prefer it if you didn’t spoil the holiday by bringing business into it. There’s plenty of time to talk back at the office.” Her voice held a thread of steel that surprised Scrimgeour, but it made Tonks smile gleefully.

“My dear, your daughter is a known associate of Dumbledore. If she isn’t a part of this Order of his, then she knows who is. As I suggested to you when last we spoke…” It seemed that none of them had time to blink before the front door was banging against the wall and the box of assorted chocolates from Scrimgeour was rewrapping itself and flying at his head. Andromeda tucked her wand away calmly. Tonks had most definitely inherited her Auror reflexes from the Black side.

“As I suggested to you when we last spoke, Nymphadora is a grown woman and knows her own mind. If she trusts Dumbledore, then she knows what she is about. I begin to think that you spend a lot of time with me worrying over Nymphadora and her friends.” Her tone went from icy to hospitable in a moment. “Thank you so much for stopping by, Percy. Give your mother my love.”

The door snapped shut behind them, and Andromeda sat pertly on the couch. Her eyes drilled holes through the perfectly stacked packages under the tree. “I…”

Tonks saved her mother, sliding on the couch and putting her arm around her. “Happy Christmas, mother.” She smiled genuinely, pleased to have such a woman as a mum.

Her lips a tight line in a white face, Andromeda didn’t speak for a long moment. She was clearly embarrassed by being taken in, and by showing herself to be more than the staunch mother Tonks had always known. Finally, her lips curled up a bit into a sad smile. “Happy Christmas, daughter.”
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