waverly lane ✨ nymphadora tonks (hufflepff) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-06-05 20:58:00 |
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There was only one thing that the young metamorphmagus daughter of Ted and Andromeda Tonks hated more than anything else in the world. Sure, she disliked chores, and forced naps, and her mum’s attempts at making dinner without Dad’s help, but they were nothing in comparison to the thing that really got under her skin. Even more than scrubbing behind her ears, being made to sit at the supper table until the meal was done, or dresses--even more than all of those things combined--the child hated her name. From the time she’d been old enough to recognize it, she’d hated it, and it had nothing to do with the painstaking effort she had to put into learning how to spell it. It was just terrible, awful, no good, and the one thing she and her mum could never, ever reconcile. She didn’t know exactly what she was in trouble for today. Honestly, it could have been any number of things. For as much as she knew her parents loved her, she was also a handful. Today, it could have been the pile of clothes she’d been asked to put away that still sat on the floor by her bed. Or maybe it was the flour she’d accidentally knocked onto the floor when she’d been stretching as far as she could stretch to reach the biscuits her dad had made for the guests that were coming for dinner. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the stick figure family she had decided needed to be colored on the wall in the living room. Whatever the case, she could see the exasperation building in her mum’s face and it was as though she could see what was coming before it actually fell. “Nympha--” If only her mum hadn’t gone straight for the name, maybe she would have felt properly bad about being the cause of her mum’s stress. As it were, all the rules flew right out the window as soon as the first two of too many syllables were muttered between pressed lips. Almost immediately, her normally mousy brown hair started to turn red, and she jumped up with her tiny, righteous fists on her hips. “No!” Her mum stopped, and eyed her, the name falling silent for the moment. She relaxed, her hair returning to normal. “Nym--” her mom started, again, more warning in her tone. “No!” It wasn’t red hair like Weasley red hair, she wanted to note. It was more like I will set something in here on fire before I take this name lying down red. More like tread lightly on this dangerous ground red. She eyed her mum back. Her hair went back to normal. “Nymphad--” “No!” Red. “Nympha--” “No!” Redder still. Her mum harumphed and crossed her arms across her chest, and ever her mother’s daughter, she did the same. They stared each other down until, after several, long moments, her mum finally started to turn and walk away. Elated with the feeling of victory, she was about to turn back to her artwork, herself, when her mum abruptly stopped and turned back. And, before she could arm herself against it, her mum scolded, “Nymphadora, you will clean this up right now before our guests arrive or so help me, I’ll put you on yard duty for a month.” But even as her mum said the words, she could see the way her mouth twisted up in playful victory the way her own lips had done moments before she’d been so thoroughly defeated at her own game. Stamping her foot, she let her hair go an even more brilliant red than before. “Don’t call me Nymphadora!” --- Waverly woke up with a gasp, sucking in air as though she’d forgotten to breathe for too long. She didn’t know when or how she’d fallen asleep, but the pages of keysmashing on her email she’d had loaded on her laptop lead her to believe that she’d been properly asleep for awhile now. She officially hated naps more than Nymphadora Tonks did. She drew up short as the name flashed across her mind. Thus far, she had been free from the dreams that seemed to plague her peers, and even her girlfriend and, though she wished she knew how to better be there for her loved ones, she’d been pleased to have been left out. But...had she been? Was this that sort of dream? It had certainly felt real, and she couldn’t remember any such story about Tonks’ life being included in the books, or any of the materials JK Rowling had been releasing since then. Was she...was she dreaming about…Tonks? “No. No, no, no no,” Waverly muttered to herself as she stood up and shook her hands out as if by erasing the sleep from her body, she could erase the dream, too. No matter what she did, though, the memory remained as vivid as if she was just now the six-year-old on the verge of being permanently grounded. Picking up her cell phone from beside her laptop, she immediately dialed Remi’s number. If anyone could talk her through this and calm her concerns, it would be her girlfriend. Just before placing the call, though, she thought better of it. She was dreaming of Tonks. The girl who would one day be Tonks Lupin. Because she married Remus who was Remi, and they… She backed out of the call, not ready to talk through the implications of this dream with the person she thought it would affect the most. No, that was going to have to wait until her heart stopped feeling like it might beat out of her chest. Instead, she found her brother’s name, and she shot off a quick text. With any luck, he could assure her that this wasn’t the same sort of dream everyone else was having, and that there was nothing, nothing to worry about, at all. |