Free Talk- Well, I've decided to be one of those fanfic writers who juggles several stories at once. The next chapter of my current Bleach story is in the works and I might even start a Bleach AU story too.The idea is that if I get stuck on one story I can work on another. This is my first time writing a Harry Potter story, so I'm a bit nervous. It's a huge fandom. But after reading Deathly Hallows I wanted to get in on the fun. I love Remus and Tonks, and since almost all of their relationship happens off page, I thought I would write my version of their story, from her point of view. No spoilers in the first chapters, but there will be latter. Please tell me what you think! Oh, and this whole story is dedicated to Kiyuu-chan for all her help and inspiration.
Make of Two Hearts
By Miss Angel Maxwell
Chapter 1: First Meeting
Seven tiny fairies fluttered inside a large glass jar, their dancing twinkles reflecting on the polished surface of the desk they were set on, doubling the effect. It was a child-sized desk, just the right height for the six-year old girl who sat there, leaning forward and staring at her own face in a mirror she had propped against the wall. She scrunched up her nose and watched as her eyebrows changed from dark brown to snow white, then she changed her hair the same color and made her eyes bright yellow. This was a regular evening ritual of hers.
"Dora dear, supper's ready!" a voice shouted from downstairs.
Nymphadora's face a lit up at the sound of her mother's announcement. "Coming Mum!" she hollered back. Then she grabbed her jar of fairies in her smudgy little hands and hurtled down the stairs, eager to show her parents the evening's catch.
In the kitchen, Dora's father, Ted, was already sitting at the table, a copy of The Daily Prophet spread out in front of him. Her mother, Andromeda, was using her wand to direct a cauldron full of stew to the table, while a knife she had charmed sliced a loaf of bread on its own.
"Mum, Daddy, look!" Dora proclaimed as she climbed into a chair and set her jar on the table.
Her father lowered his newspaper and peeked over it at her. "Wow," he said. "How many are there?"
"Seven," she said, grinning.
"And you caught them all in our garden? Without a wand?" He was clearly impressed.
"Yep!" she said proudly.
Before she could describe in loving detail each and every capture, her mother shot a stern look and said, "But of course you forgot to wash your hands after playing in the dirt. Hold 'em out." She pointed her wand at Dora's outstretched palms. "Scourgify! I swear you are just like your father."
"I like being like daddy," the little girl said.
"Aw, I like that you're like me, too," he said, reaching over and ruffling her white hair. "Though we're not the same in every way."
Andromeda smiled at her husband and daughter as she took her place at the table. "You messy pair are just lucky you have me around."
Ted set down The Daily Prophet and dunked a slice of bread in his bowl of beef stew and Dora copied him. "Mmm… nummy…" she mumbled after cramming it in her mouth. Her mother merely raised an eyebrow.
"The Prophet said there was another attack by that Greyback," Ted said to his wife gravely. "You'd think someone would be able to catch him, the Ministry, or that organization your cousin belongs to."
"Who's Greyback?" Dora asked curiously.
Both her parents ignored her and her mother addressed her father. "They're a bit tied up right now with You-Know-Who and his followers. No time to be chasing after rogue werewolves."
Dora had been about to ask who You-Know-Who was, but the last word out of her mother's mouth stuck in her head and dissolved all other thoughts. "Werewolves?" she breathed. "So… Greyback… is a werewolf?"
"A right nasty one at that," her father said in a warning tone. "They say he attacks little children just for fun. One time they even say he…"
Andromeda suddenly slammed both hands down on the table with enough force that stew splattered out of her bowl. "Ted, she's only six! Don't scare her with stories like that!" Then she gave him such an admonishing glare that he shrank in his seat rather sheepishly.
"You're right, love," he said, and turning to his daughter added, "sorry to scare you, Dora. You have no reason to be afraid of Greyback. Your mum and I will keep you safe from werewolves."
"Do they all attack little kids for fun?" Nymphadora asked, trying hard not to let her voice sound scared.
"No, no," he assured her. "They're not all as bad as Fenrir Greyback."
"But they are all dangerous," Andromeda reminded. "That's why the Ministry does everything they can to keep them away from civilized wizarding society."
When Dora, whose mind was now completely filled with werewolves, didn't respond, her father patted her on the shoulder. He opened his mouth as if to say something reassuring, but a loud hooting and fluttering of wings prevented him from speaking as a large horned owl swooped through the window and landed on the table.
"Ooh! A letter! A letter!" Dora announced excitedly.
Ted untied the letter from the bird's leg, examined the envelope, then shot his wife a furtive glance and passed it to her. "It's from your cousin… Sirius…"
She tore it open without a word and plucked out the piece of yellowish parchment inside. As she silently read the letter to herself, Dora watched in anticipation.
"He's still going on about that Order of the Phoenix," Andromeda sighed after she had finished. "He thinks I should join. Thinks you should too, Ted, even though he's never met you. He's just trying to recruit us because I'm the only one left in the family who will even talk to him."
"And you're still not interested?" he asked.
"Of course I'm not interested in putting my family in danger, if not from You-Know-Who then from my horrible sisters. They already disowned me for marrying you. If I joined Sirius' vigilante gang they'd probably kill me. Besides, it's not our job to go chasing after evil wizards. That's what Aurors are for."
"Did he have anything else to say?"
"Well, his best mate James has gotten married. Seems like a lot of people are doing that right out of Hogwarts these days."
"Can you blame 'em with the future so uncertain? We were pretty young ourselves, 'Dromeda. Everyone's scared they won't live long enough to…"
Nymphadora's eyes had been moving back and forth between her mother and father as they spoke and only now did they finally seem aware of her presence. Her mother merely picked up her spoon and resumed eating. Her father gave her a rather guilty smile.
"There's nothing to be scared about, Dora," he said gently. "Not werewolves or evil wizards. Tell you what, how about tomorrow you come to the Ministry with me? You'll see that everything is alright."
A wide, open-mouthed smile spread on Dora's face and she practically shouted her reply. "Okay!" The prospect of spending the whole day with her dad at the Ministry was exciting enough to temporarily drive any worries out from her head and she spent the rest of supper happily talking about her fairies.
After the meal was finished, Andromeda cleared the table with few flicks of her wand while Ted read aloud a column from the newspaper that both parents laughed at, but which Dora didn't understand. She picked up her jar with both hands and headed back to her room to try on different noses.
When she passed the kitchen trash bin, however, something she saw caught her eye and she stopped to look at it. It was the envelope from Sirius Black's letter and there was something still inside it. She hastily shifted the jar of fairies over to one hand and picked up the envelope in the other. Then she ran upstairs and waited until she was in her bedroom and the door was closed to investigate.
The item that her mother had somehow overlooked was a large photograph folded in half, a group portrait of about twenty witches and wizards standing side-by-side and smiling proudly. One of them she recognized from other photographs she'd seen as her relative Sirius, but the others were all strangers.
"This must be the gang that goes after evil wizards," she whispered to herself. "The Order of the Phoenix."
She didn't have time to examine any of the faces very closely before her parents knocked on her door and she had to refold it and stash it under her pillow. She changed into pajamas as fast as she could and let them in.
"We'll have fun together tomorrow," her father said when he tucked her into bed.
"Don't worry about a thing," said her mother. "Sweet dreams, Nymphadora."
Then each of them gave her a kiss on the forehead and left, putting out the lights in her bedroom before they went. Lying in her bed, alone in the dark, Dora kept thinking about the Order of the Phoenix. The worries she had temporarily banished earlier were seeping back into her brain.
Two times during the course of supper she heard her father reassure her of her safety. It was happening more and more frequently, that her parents would start talking in anxious tones as if there was great peril surrounding all of them without seeming to notice that she was listening. Their frequent insistences that they were all completely safe were becoming rapidly ineffective. Even though she was just a little kid, she could feel the hints of a world growing darker and more dangerous creeping into the shelter of her home.
Was the Ministry really keeping everyone safe from evil wizards and werewolves? Her mum had said something about Aurors. And what was the Order of the Phoenix doing then?
She thought about them as she fell asleep, their smiling faces still tucked beneath her head.
Excitement woke Dora up hours before usual. She had been to the Ministry with her father before but she was thrilled nonetheless. She changed her hair to her favorite color, bright pink, for the occasion, and put on a red jumper that clashed horribly. Following a breakfast of toast and jam, she kissed her mother goodbye and, taking hold of her father's hand, stepped into the fireplace with him.
With a loud clear shout of, "Ministry of Magic," he threw down a handful of Floo Powder and the painless flames swallowed up the pair of them.
Father and daughter were spit out into one of many fireplaces that lined the great marble atrium at the entry to the Ministry. Dora's eyes were opened wide as saucers, her neck craning in every direction just to take in the place. Witches and wizards bustled all around them, some of them dressed in strange-looking robes and conversing in languages she didn't understand.
Her father, who still had a firm grip on her little hand, stopped and exchanged very friendly greetings with some of the people they saw.
"Ah, good morning, Arthur," he said to a lanky red-haired wizard. "How are Molly and the boys?"
"Everyone's quite well, Ted. The twins have started walking now and are getting into everything. Much more trouble than the first three I must say. Ahh, this must be little Nymphadora." He looked at her with a friendly smile. "So how old are you now?"
"I'm six," said Dora cheerfully. She had never felt shy around strangers.
"Well, you have a good day with your father," the red-haired wizard told her. "He's one of the hardest working men I know.'
"You're one to talk," Ted said. "I'll see you later, Arthur."
There were several more encounters like this as the two Tonkses made their way to the lift. It made Dora feel very pleased to see how much everyone liked her dad. She was shocked when a witch standing next to them in the lift gave him a look of utter disgust and inched away, muttering something that sounded like "filthy mudblood," under her breath.
At the next stop, she shuffled off the lift and Dora tugged on her dad's hand as she asked in a whisper, "Daddy, what does mudblood mean?"
Before he got a chance to answer her, however, the lift door opened at the next floor and a short, frazzled-looking wizard with tiny round spectacles seized her father's other hand and yanked them both out into the hallway. "Ted! Ted, I've been looking for you!" he said in a squeaky, urgent voice. He didn't even notice Nymphadora. "It's just awful! Terrible! Massive attack on Muggle-borns last night! We need you to speak, Ted!"
"Uh…" Ted said in a daze, still being dragged by the anxious little man. He looked down at Dora and flashed an apologetic smile. "I need to find a safe place for my daughter to wait for me," he told the wizard.
"Oh right, of course," the little man said, finally relinquishing Ted's hand. He adjusted his spectacles and scrutinized the young girl. "Yes, I believe there's an alcove with benches at the end of this hallway. It's right outside of the conference hall where we'll be meeting. She should be fine there."
"Alright," Ted said, and Dora thought it sounded like a sigh. "Let me take her there and I'll meet you inside."
Dora felt a plummeting sensation in her heart as the strange man scurried away and her father lead her to the end of the hall where he would have to leave her. There was also a sense of dread mingled there. She may not have known what "mudblood" meant, but "massive attack on Muggle-borns" was very explicit.
"What's going on, Daddy?" she asked as they entered the alcove.
"Nothing, nothing. No need to worry, Dora." The quickness with which he spoke gave the definite impression of being worried. "Hopefully this won't take too long. You just wait here on this bench until I get out. And don't go wandering around. Okay?"
Nymphadora had climbed up onto the large bench, her skinny legs dangling off the edge but not touching the ground. "Okay," she said glumly.
Her father crouched down so that they were on the same eye level and placed his two hands on her small shoulders. "I'm really sorry about this, Dora. I didn't expect anything like this to happen on our day together. But I'll make it up to you, I promise."
She gave a little sniff and forced a smile onto her face. After all, it wasn't his fault that their day got spoiled. "It's okay. I can wait." Then, after receiving a kiss on the cheek, she watched her father hurry into the conference room.
From the bench in the alcove, Dora saw several more witches and wizards with frightened expressions scuttle into the same door her father passed through before it closed. Now the ticking seconds of the clock on the alcove wall was magnified by the emptiness of the marble hallway.
No matter how hard she tried, left alone like this, Dora couldn't keep her mind from werewolves and evil wizards and Muggle-born attacks. She looked around for anything to distract herself, but despite being polished and pristine, the Ministry halls were bereft of anything that might interest a child. She practiced changing her ears and nose and mouth for a while, but grew bored of it quickly, bored of sitting still.
Her eyes strayed to the floor and the vast rows of green marble tiles suddenly inspired her. She hopped down from the bench and stepped onto one of the tiles, just big enough for both feet to fit on tiptoe. Then she jumped to another, two tiles over, being very careful not to touch any of the cracks between them. Once she'd mastered jumping over one tile, she tried two and then three. Pretty soon she had jumped tiles far down the hallway, completely forgetting that she told her father she would stay on the bench.
When she tried to jump over four tiles without stepping on any cracks, however, disaster struck. Her first foot landed fine but the second swung too far to the left and she crashed face forward into the floor.
"Ow!"
Sprawled there on the floor, gingerly rubbing her bruised skull and trying not to cry, Dora had somehow missed the sound of a door opening behind her. She didn't realize that it had until the rumble of feet and the loud buzz of a hundred voices swelled all around her. Witches and wizards poured into the hallway and none of them seemed to see the small girl.
"Ow! Hey! Watch it! Lemme get up!"
None of them seemed to hear her either. She tried to get up, but was knocked over by a knee and a wizard with large shoes stepped on her hand.
"Daddy! Daddy, where are you?" she cried out, but her voice was lost in the din.
Then suddenly she felt herself being lifted off the floor by a pair of hands hooked under her armpits. Her rescuer carried her safely through the crowd back to the little alcove and set her down on the bench, and she got her first look at him.
He was a young wizard but he looked tired and he wore a shabby, threadbare jacket. Still, there was a certain kindness in his face. His eyes shined warmly under a fringe of light brown hair and it felt somehow familiar.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"I think so," she answered. "Someone stepped on my hand, though, and it hurts." She held the afflicted appendage out to him and he took it in his own.
"I don't think any bones are broken," he said, turning it over delicately. "What were you doing on the floor in a busy hallway?"
"I was just playing while I waited for my dad and I tripped. I told him I would stay here but…"
The young wizard sat down next to her on the bench. "If I stay here with you will you stay out of trouble?" he asked.
"Okay," she said, smiling, grateful for the company. "I don't know how long it will be, though. It seemed like a pretty serious conference. Oh, I'm Nymphadora… But I don't like that name very much."
The wizard chuckled. "How about just Dora then?"
"You can call me that," she said. "My daddy does."
"Well then, it's nice to meet you, Dora. I must say, it's not every day I get to meet a little witch with pink hair. Is that natural?"
Dora grinned. "Yes, but I can change it if I want." She scrunched her nose and changed her hair to the same light brown as his. "Now I we look alike! What do you think?"
"I think you are a very interesting little girl," said the wizard. "Interesting, but cute. So what does your father do here at the ministry?"
"I'm not really sure," she answered. "But he had to go into one of those rooms because of an attack on Muggle-borns."
Her companion seemed to sink into the bench when he heard this and he sighed loudly. "Nobody is safe anymore. It's really a full-blown war now."
Dora gasped involuntarily. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and then furrowed in thought. "So Dad was wrong, we really are in danger. He always says we're safe… Mum too… But they…"
"I'm sure your parents just don't want you to worry," said the wizard, who seemed to have brightened up a bit, if only for her sake. "It's true, we are living in times of great danger. There are evil wizards and witches who seek to hurt the innocent and are waging war on all those who want to live in peace."
A shudder coursed up the little girl's spine. She had already begun to suspect that the world was in such a state, but now this young man was saying it directly to her and not trying to hide it. Apparently he noticed that she was scared because he patted her on the head and smiled at her.
"What you have to remember," he continued, "is that there are also people who are fighting with all their hearts to protect what good there still is in the world, to protect people like you."
"Is that what you do? Are you a…" She had to pause to remember the word. "An Auror?"
"Me? An Auror?" He seemed surprised and a little amused by her question. "No, I'm afraid the Ministry would never let me be an Auror. I'm doing what I can to fight back, though."
"Why wouldn't the Ministry let you be an Auror?"
The question seemed to make him nervous. He looked all around to make sure that there was nobody left in the hall then he whispered in Dora's ear. "Can you keep a secret?" She nodded vigorously and he whispered again. "I'm a werewolf."
Dora felt the blood draining from her face. For the first time she could remember, she couldn't think of anything to say. For some reason, though, she didn't feel scared. On the contrary, she felt safer than she ever had before and she scooted closer to the young man.
"Is it hard?" she finally asked in a very soft voice. "You know… being a werewolf…"
He closed his eyes. "Yes. But it's worth it be alive and be able to do some good in the world."
In that moment, Nymphadora Tonks felt indescribably close to this wizard she had just met. She didn't say anything more, just leaned against him like a girl might lean against her older brother. Neither of them said anything. His jacket was soft and smelled nice and her eyelids slowly closed.
They opened again to a voice that wasn't his.
"Dora. Wake up, Dora, it's me. The conference is over."
"Hmm… Daddy…" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes with small fists. It took a moment before she remembered where she was and looked around for her companion. "Where is he?" she asked.
"Where's who?" her father asked.
"There… there was a man here sitting with me. We were talking and I must have fallen asleep."
Her father gave her a skeptical look, as if she were describing a dream, and she had to stop and concentrate very hard on remembering his face just to be sure that the encounter had been real. As the gentle features came into focus in her mind she realized why he had seemed so familiar. His was one of the faces in the photograph of the Order of the Phoenix.
She wanted to tell her father what had happened, but she wasn't quite sure what to say. Should she tell him that she had befriended a werewolf? Would he even believe her?
As he scooped her up in his arms and she rested against his shoulder it came to her, exactly what she wanted to say.
"Daddy, I want to join The Order of the Phoenix."
To be continued…