Chapter 1 : Pink Disasters or Everyday Occurances in the Life of Nymphadora T.
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She cursed her two left feet, remaining in her current position on the floor, listening for the inevitable laughter. And she should not be disappointed; she could hear the familiar sniggers. She was currently lying on her belly, face down in one of the many halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She lifted her head inch by inch, peering around. All she could see was a forest of ankles, clad in either black pants or socks, but each pair had a swishing cloak tail over them.
"Nymphadora, now isn't the time to catch up on sleep," a familiar voice sniggered next to her. At the same time, she felt herself being pulled up by two large hands.
"Charlie Weasley! How often have I told you not to call me that! It’s Tonks for you, and for everyone else, for that matter!" She tried to hide her red face by scampering around the hall for her possessions. Typical, everything had spilled out, spread around the hall.
"Too bad, I happen to like your name!" The red-head chortled. Tonks stiffened. Apparently, someone needed to be reminded who was boss around here. She inched closer to her unsuspecting friend, who was kneeling on the floor and picking up some of her things. Pity, if he hadn’t opened his big mouth, she might even have thanked him.
Grinning her most evil grin, she shoved her bag into his hands, pulled him up by the ear and dragged him off towards Transfiguration. The last stragglers they meet on their way made room for the pink-haired witch and the flailing redhead. After all, this was not an unusual sight.
She only stopped in front of the door to Professor McGonagall’s classroom. Charlie harrumphed noisily, reminding her that she still had a hold on his ear. She gave it a last little twist for good measure; before both of them returned to the matter at hand; the annoyed and mischievous expression on their respective faces slowly giving way to a worried one. They were fifteen minutes late for Transfiguration.
"What now?" The usually quirky girl asked in a hushed whisper.
"It – it’s just like with dragons. Don’t startle them, and you’re fine," Charlie gulped visibly.
Nymphadora looked at him, incredulous. "Don’t startle them? How do you suggest we do that? A dragon has nothing on Minnie McG!"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno," and after a few seconds of contemplation, "Hell, yeah, to the second."
"Arrgh! Ok, go in, you’re the Gryffindor here!"
"Why me? I wasn’t the one lazing around on the ground."
"Blablabla." She knocked on the door briefly, then pushed him inside.
Nymphadora wisely kept her head low, awaiting what was sure to come. And she shouldn't be disappointed.
"Miss Tonks, Mr Weasley, what will it be this time? A manticore on a rampage? A flooded corridor? Peeves? Any broken bones, stairs or noses?"
"Uh, well, actually, it was a broken bag. And a clumsy girl." Her companion declared, oblivious to Professor McGonagall’s icy glare. Right, she would have to keep a lookout for a new sidekick.
Professor McGonagall gave her a long, hard look; Nymphadora felt the hairs on her neck prickle underneath it, then the feeling went away.
"Sad thing is, Mr Weasley, I have no troubles believing that. Sit down, the two of you. See me after class, please. This is no way to start your sixth year and NEWT classes."
Nymphadora did not know whether she should be embarrassed (she had almost fallen flat on her face again on her way to her seat. Stupid Quinn, did he have to put his bag on the floor?) or angry that McGonagall would just believe Charlie. Granted, it was true, but it was the principle of the matter.
She let herself fall into the seat that her friend had saved for her, while Charlie took the seat in front of them beside his fellow Gryffindor Magnus Gray.
McGonagall resumed her lesson, and as she explained about the theory of human Transfiguration, a piece of chalk magically wrote notes on the board.
Charlie turned around to wink at her, to which she responded with sticking out her tongue. Beside her, her friend Naomi hid behind her curtain of hair, most likely to hide her blush, Nymphadora assumed.
"Naomi," she hissed. "If you want him to notice you, you better wink back!"
The other girl just shook her head, busying herself with taking notes.
Nymphadora rolled her eyes. That way, they would never end up together. And she would never get to have god-kids. A mischievous smile once again lifted the corners of her mouth. The lesson was boring her anyway; if she wanted a pig snout for a nose, she had other means of doing that.
She balled up a sheet of parchment, and threw it at Charlie’s head.
The redhead turned around in search of the culprit, and found her grinning face. She pointed to Naomi, who was scribbling away obliviously.
Charlie signaled ‘Yeah, sure, I believe you’ with his eyes. Or he could have had something in his eye, both were entirely possible in her opinion. Either way, he turned back around. Uh uh, there went her god-kids. "Charlie!" she hissed.
"Miss Tonks, do you wish to contribute something?" Professor McGonagall asked, interrupting her monolog.
"Fiddlesticks! Uh, no, I mean, it’s nothing," she attempted to cover.
McGonagall went back to her lecture, Nymphadora caught something about changing inanimate objects into animals, and changing one animal into another, and something about the consequences. She attempted to sit straight as board for the next few minutes, until she was certain the professor would no longer throw her suspicious glances from time to time.
She decided on a different approach. "Naomi! Psst!" she poked her neighbour. "Naomi! Sanders!"
Naomi glared at her, but scribbled something on a piece of parchment. What do you want?
Nymphadora grinned. You need to ask him out!
CW., of course! He doesn’t bite, you know. At least he would not bite you. Unless you wanted him too … xoxo
Naomi demonstratively tore the parchment to little pieces, before she concentrated again on her notes.
Nymphadora pouted. With nothing else to do, she tuned back in to what was being said.
"… the principles of human transfiguration differ from an animagus transformation, and from transfiguring inanimate objects into animals, or vice versa for that matter. For next week, I want two rolls of parchment on the theory of those fields, as well as problems, similarities and differences you see. – So, this is a NEWT class, so it should be no problem for you to solve the task I’ll be giving out."
Shoot, an essay? Maybe she should have listened after all. She waited with an angelic expression on her face for McGonagall to come to their desk.
"Miss Tonks, Miss Sanders, I would like you to change this hedgehog into a pincushion. And no fooling around, please." The last comment was distinctly directed at her, and Nymphadora attempted her puppy dog eyes. Sadly, those were lost on McGonagall.
Naomi jumped in, "Of course not, Professor. We get right to it."
"Little Miss Perfect," Nymphadora teased her.
Naomi shrugged good-naturedly. "Let’s get started, ok?"
"But this is so fourth year!"
"Yes, that’s why it’s called revision," Naomi told her patiently.
"Alright, let me do it," the pink-haired witch said, deciding to give her friend a break. Nymphadora waved and twirled her wand around to the incantation, and a perfect, yellow and black pincushion lay where the hedgehog had been inching around only moments before.
"Show-off!" Naomi murmured. "Can you untransfigure it?"
"Why me? You do it. Or ask Charlie to do it!" Nymphadora answered.
"What is it today that you have to bring him up all the time?" Naomi tried to sound cool, but Nymphadora could still see her red cheeks.
"Uh, nothing really. I just want you to give me cute litte red-headed goody-two-shoes god-kids."
Naomi had been about to cast the counter spell when she heard her friend’s words. Her hand jerked, and the jet of light left the wand tip, and headed straight for one unsuspecting redhead.
Both girls watched in horror as it, like in a bad comic, made contact with the new target.
Nymphadora felt her mouth gape open as she watched in slow motion how Charlie seemed to shrink inch by inch, until she could no longer see him. The whole class had turned around at the noise of Magnus tumbling to floor with his chair in his fright. Nymphadora leaned in closer, and closer. There, a little white bunny was sitting on the chair, brown eyes rolling around frantically, the rest of its body stock still in an upright position.
"Mr Grey? What is the … What is going on?"
Professor McGonagall had determined the Gryffindor boy as the culprit, and stepped closer. She stopped short when she saw the rabbit on the chair, and everyone moved closer to see what would happen next. This and the loud voice of their professor seemed to startle the bunny so much that he was gone in a blur of white fur.
"Charlie!" Nymphadora jumped into action, barging through the crowd in an attempt to help her unfortunate friend.
She could hear Professor McGonagall shout her name, but didn't particularly care at that moment. She jumped on desks, back down and over who knows what else, always on the heels of the little mammal.
Half of the class was on her heels as she chased around the class like madwoman. Nymphadora was dimly aware that McGonagall shouted something about sitting down, yet she kept up the chase.
"Petrificus Totalus." Everything seemed to freeze at McGonagall's spell; Nymphadora felt herself dive forward in a graceful arc – now she was graceful, yes? – but when she touched down again, she grabbed hold of something warm and fluffy. Then, more bodies landed on her back, squashing her.
Someone must have cast the counter-spell, because she could open her eyes just fine, and clutched in her hand was a quivering white bunny.
It blinked around confusedly. Nymphadora took in her surroundings, and saw – her brown-haired best friend also holding onto the bunny. Also known as Charlie Weasley.. She smirked at the thought. As soon as Naomi was master of her limps again, she jumped up as if burned, hurrying towards their desk. Or where it had been before.
Desks were overturned, chairs lay on the ground, paper everywhere. Transfigured and untransfigured animals everywhere, adding to the noise. Some of her class mates scattered in the midst of the ruins, and McGonagall stood atop a pile of debris, wand arm outstretched.
Nymphadora looked over her shoulder, where she heard groans and moaning. The rest of the class was in a heap of tangled legs and arms, burying her halfway underneath them. That explains the weight, she thought to herself.
"What," Professor McGonagall asked in a deadly voice, "in the name of Merlin, happened? Miss Sanders?"
"Uh, you see, Charlie … I …" Naomi had gone ghostly pale.
Nymphadora signalled her with her eyes to be quiet. "Charlie is a bunny. This bunny," she precicised, jerking her head towards the animal she had now in her arms.
McGonagall’s looked at her, a disbelieving expression on her face. "He is a bunny?" she repeated stupidly, but caught herself. "Mr Weasley needs to go to the Hospital Wing. Mr Gray, if you will. Take Miss Sanders as well. Everyone else, gather your things, and head to Madam Pomfrey as well, but not everyone at once, please. No, not you, Miss Tonks." Nymphadora closed her open mouth noisily. "I want to know what happened. Exactly." The professor’s voice was once again icy.
Uh uh, Nymphadora thought dimly, this is not good. Goodbye, wonderful world.
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