Three years after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wizarding families settled back into the easy, carefree way of life once again. Some people continuously read the books that were written the baby boy, Harry Potter, after the night of October 31,1981. Some were still trying to deal with the loss of the Potter's, and others were slowly moving on with their lives. The younger generation not completely knowing what they would be growing up into, and for the present, it was just as well. They would soon learn of how important little baby Harry Potter was to their world, and why exactly it was a miracle that he had survived that night. There was only one question:
How long will it take before these times of peace became times of change?
"I don't want to go to Diagon Alley, Mum!" Eleven year old Nymphadora Tonks whined as she flopped down on the couch. The small girl pulled her legs under herself before crossing her arms. Today would have been a normal day in the Tonks household if only it weren't for the fact that little Nymphadora was supposed to go out with her mother to pick up her school supplies for the up and coming term at Hogwarts. It was her first year and she didn't fancy shopping because she didn't like shopping, not really. She gave a muffled sound of distain before pulling at one of her brown curls. "Can't I at least change my hair?"
Andromeda Tonks didn't even look up from her spot at the small table as she began to collect this morning dishes. "No," she said stacking one plate onto another and setting the forks on top. "You didn't finish your eggs, mind you, Nymphadora." She added, finally looking up to meet her daughters gaze. Smiling softly she strode off to the kitchen, the door closing behind her with a soft click. The eleven year old toppled off the couch, groaning into her hands. This caused a chuckle from her father who was simply reading the mornings issue of the Daily Prophet at the table. The girl remained on the floor with her hands plastered over her face, as if she was dreading to look around the room.
Nymphadora, or Tonks, as she'd rather be called, could be considered a rather dramatic girl. Some even ventured to call her hyperactive. She was horribly clumsy, one would be able to pick up on that if they just watched her move around her room. "Dad," Tonks sighed exasperatedly. "I'm doomed. What was Mum thinking when she named me? Does she want me to go around being made fun at?" she sat up, looking up at her father hopefully only to see him shaking his head at her, holding back what she could tell was laughter. Tonks would have thrown a pillow at her father, but she knew just how horrible her aim was, and winced at the thought of knocking his coffee mug off of the table.
Father and daughter turned their attention to the kitchen, however, upon hearing a rather loud laugh. Mrs. Tonks had emerged from the kitchen and was walking toward her husband, holding a letter in her hands. She took a seat at the table, reading over the letter at least ten more times, making sure she had read it correctly. Even after she just continued to stare at it, not once noticing the look that her husband was giving her or the mock pointed glare she was receiving from her daughter. When she had finally looked up at her husband it was very evident that she was holding back a great deal of laugher and possibly anger.
"Narcissa wants to see Nymphadora and myself," Mrs. Tonks sniffed. Tonks noticed that her mum's hands were shaking at this.
Then she recalled what her mum had just said and blanched. "Aunt Narcissa wants to.." Tonks said, trailing off, the words falling numb in her mouth. "But why, Mum? You've told me plenty times that she and Aunt Bellatrix don't like you. And I've already met Aunt Narcissa, I don't want to have to do that again. She's all sorts of terrible strict. Oh! Draco's three, isn't he? Is he talking yet at all or has she not mentioned it? Merlin, I feel sorry for the poor boy, his mum is terribly strict and she loves to yell. At those house-elves. Poor things."
It was probably a good thing that she stopped when she did. Mrs. Tonks would looking at her as if she might lecture the girl into next week. Tonks looked away innocently, as if she hadn't said a word. "Never you mind that, Nymphadora," Mrs. Tonks said, waving her hand at her daughter. "Go get dressed, please. We're going to Diagon Alley and getting your things. You've put it off ever since you got your letter, and you leave tomorrow. Do you have any idea how many people will be trying to get their things now?"
Tonks blinked. "Just all the sorry sods who waited this long to buy their things?"
"Sorry!" Pause. "Merlin, I hate my name."
Just like her mum had predicted; Diagon Alley was packed, and now more than ever Tonks wished she could have been anywhere but there. Lock her up in a room with her Aunt Narcissa, anything was better than last minute shopping. Not to mention that her mum had already called her on watching where she was going because she kept bumping into someone. The eleven year old had only winced and stumbled rather ungracefully before dumping into someone else. Oh, there were many reasons why she didn't like shopping in Diagon Alley. Her mum never let her change her hair color, she was always trying to pick out the cute robes, and when she meant cute she always meant expensive. Tonks wouldn't have it.
Her mum may have been something of a perfect porcelain doll when she was her age, but Tonks was anything but. She was messy, her clothes were always completely wrinkled by the end of the day. She couldn't walk twenty feet without stumbling over something. She couldn't stand up or sit up straight for more than five seconds before wanting to topple over. Her mum was the exact opposite, despite having given up her title as a Black when she was disowned. Tonks found her mother neat and orderly. And poised, albeit a bit silly at times.
Mr. and Mrs. Arthur and Molly Weasley often told her that she took after her dad. Ted Tonks, he played off as the quiet father, but Tonks had heard stories that her dad was a bit clumsy when he was in school. This made the girl wonder which of her parents asked who out.
With a frustrated sigh Tonks trudged on behind her mum, tugging on the light lock of hair that had fallen into her line of vision. Her mind wasn't anywhere near shopping. "Mum," she whined just loud enough for Mrs. Tonks to hear. "I might as well be the milkman's daughter," she said half heartedly, looking up hopefully at her mum as she had turned around. "I mean, c'mon, I don't look a thing like you or dad. He has dark hair and you have blonde hair like Aunt Narcissa. And I've got brown. Plus, no one ever sees dad around," Tonks added, finishing off with a light hum as the two of them entered a book store.
Mrs. Tonks wrinkled her nose. "You see your father a great deal more than you cousin, Draco, ever sees his," she tutted, pushing her daughter lightly in front of her. "Now, will you please help me find your school books? After this we only have to get your robes. And you get your looks from your Great Aunt-"
"MUM LOOK! WEASLEY'S!" Tonks cried, pointing off into a corner.
Nine redheads turned to look at the screaming person. Mrs. Weasley was holding her youngest child, and holding the hand of her second youngest. Two twin boys busied themselves, pointing and giggling at people who continued to walked by, while another boy looked at them and rolled his eyes. The eldest two were busy fighting over a book. Their parents looked very much exasperated.
Mrs. Tonks didn't seem to really hear her daughters little out burst. She walked right past the Weasley clan, giving them a smile and a wave before she lost herself behind a shelf of books. Tonks looked exasperated; she mum? Never listened to her when she had something to say. It was rude. So with a huff, she took one last glance at the Weasley's, finally taking in who all she was seeing. The one children that she had ever met were Bill and Charlie; because they were in her age group.
"Wotcher, Charlie!" Tonks said merrily as she bound past the lot after her mother. Charlie looked pointedly away which only caused Bill to laugh a little. Tonks and Charlie were always messing around with each other. However, upon finding out that he was pointedly ignoring her, she stopped in mid step and stomped a foot. "Wotcher, damnit!" 'Kay, that was a slip. No sooner had she said it had her mother appeared once again.
The girl cringed. She really hated that name. Charlie burst out into a fit of laughter and she glared at him, before realizing that their parents had moved halfway across the shop with the four youngest kids.
Tonks looked up at the Weasley boy that she didn't know. It was all to obvious that he was a Weasley. She had seen him before, but never bothered to ask Mrs. Weasley what his name was, and she always forgot to ask her own parents. So, giving a strand of her own hair a tug she walked up to him. He was little, younger than Charlie and Bill.
"I'm Percy," the boy said, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. "Who're you?"
Well, Tonks hadn't been expecting that. She blinked a few times. "I'm - er… I'm Tonks," she said, cocking her head to the side. The boy wrinkled a nose.
"That's a boys name. You're a girl."
"Yeah? Well… you - smell funny!"
"You look funny!"
Luckily the shopping trip had been cut short due to the fact that Mrs. Tonks and Mrs. Weasley had made their rounds again to collect their children, and Mrs. Tonks had apparently found all of her daughters school books and bought them while she was having a small tiff with the younger boy. Tonks gave a wave to the Weasley's before running after her mother. Robes and then home. Yes, that sounded like a smashing idea, the girl though as she stumbled through the door, right into someone who was coming in. Robes, home, packing, and train. Brilliant.
She could probably get her mum to pack her trunk, too. She was good at doing that sort of thing after all.