Title: Nymphadora Tonks's Diary

Rating: R for swearing, mostly.

Summary: Ah, Tonks begins a diary and writes her thoughts in there. Strange things keep happening to her, and she's finding herself wanting to be with a certain soft-brown-haired man with shabby robes.

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K.Rowling, and the style of the writing belong to Helen Fielding

Note: This is a diary written in "Bridget Jones's Diary" style.

Nymphadora Tonks's Diary

Chapter One

June 4, 1995

130lbs, hair colour Purple, no. of times changed hairstyle: countless, no. of times cursed self for being so clumsy: myriad (average), no. of times tripped over self 4 (v. bad), chocolate frogs units 5

2:30pm, Own flat

Cannot believe it. Have once again submitted to Shaklebolt's (bloody cheek) rubbish. Have agreed to go to an Aurors Party tonight at five. Why did I agree? Why am I so stupid? Why did I sit there like bloody idiot nodding head off in manner of Percy Weasley when he is around Fudge?

Was doing some paperwork in office when bloody Shaklebolt came out of nowhere. Suspect he apparated just to spite me, as had previously set charm on door to never let him in unless given specific instructions. Jumped five feet in air and managed to knock over the lamp, a whole stack of paperwork, and chocolate frogs, which went flying out the window the minute box spilled open. Then, as if nothing was wrong, Kingsley says pleasantly, "So, I'll see you at 7:00pm?"

"What?" I said, confused.

"The Aurors Party."

"Ah." I'd said, feeling pretty pleased that I was about to turn him down, even though he didn't actually ask me to go with him. I mean, rejecting men is part of the elastic-grip you're suppose to have on men, right? Also real reason do not want to go is because Snape will be there. Feel v. bad for poor man, but am v. scared of him. Actually not sure why Snape is there. Surely he would not submit himself to such flamboyant occasions such as this? Surely he'd prefer to talk to his cauldron, cursing new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher? But was told he would be. Probably was forced by Dumbledore. Odd fellow, Dumbledore, but v. nice and charming. Anyway, pasted huge smile on, and said, "I'm afraid not. I'm a bit busy, you see."

"Doing what?" He said, not a bit disappointed.

"Ah, you see," I lowered my voice a little, "work for the Order."

"Ah." He said. Hate how you seem to be the one dominating conversation, but then with one comment you're suddenly not in control. Bah.

"Yes." I said, quite pleased.

"Well," he began to leave, "I guess only you would work on the one weekend we're off." He paused, "Both in the Order and in the Ministry."

I cringed. Hate it when people seem know everything. As if on cue, Shaklebolt gets this bloody amused look on his face, saying in a sing-along voice, "Come on, let's hear it, Tonks. What's the real reason you aren't going." Apparently, he decided that was about to spill whole heart's secrets to him, and leaned one slim, rather in shape, actually, arse on the edge of my desk.

Was a bit distracted by arse. V. muscular… mm… why is it that he insists on wearing tight muggle pants under his robe, and why must he insist on taking off his robe in my presence? Outer robe, for if had been bathrobe/night robe would be rather perverse and straight forward of him.

Did not realize he was waiting, staring at self until heard someone clear their throat. "Well?"

"Oh," I managed to snap out of it. "Um… ah… well. You see…"

With the same bemused, knowing smile, he goes, "It's Snape, isn't it?"

Bloody cheek. Instead of voicing my thoughts, unfortunately, started nodding.

Merlin, how thick can one get? Anyhow, finally agreed to go, to "test" out my courage as an ex-Gryffindor, of course. Will be poised and not let him down my pants. Not that he suggested anything by it, of course. But one must always be prepared. Yes, yes. Must go get dressed now and show up at Sirius'. Actually, place is a bit gloomy for being the place to get prepared for this sort of event, isn't it? Ah well.

2:50pm, flat

Shit. Just ripped dress. Fuck fuck fuckitty fuck. Bloody cheek who made this put anti-repairing charms on this so when this happens would have to go back to his store and pay him to get this bloody thing repaired. Ugh, useless.

Must go find some other number to wear now… oh god. Hope will not be late.

3:35pm, flat

Ah, managed to shower, pull on old-haggard 100% stomach-shrinking underwear (Apparently supposed to make your tummy look flatter…) and quickly slip on dress. Is black number with little frilly things. Gah, just broke frilly thing.

Will calm self down a bit by drinking some butterbeer. Surely nothing harmful would result from this. No, no, am poised, career woman.

3:45pm

Blast. Where are those French imported butterbeer?

3:50pm

Ah, found them. Who put them under the bloody bed? Just a little sip now… surely people would show up at parties a bit later than expected, thus making self v. embarrassing-looking if actually showed up on time?

4:10pm

Blurry hell, poise… poise woman. Where blurry hell are shoes? Mm... butterbeer… so good. Mmm…. Surrrly can have bits more?

Mmmmmm….

7:30pm

GAAH! Cannot believe self! Got drunk off butterbeer before party and now am late! Fuck fuck fuckitty fuck.

Am fantastic nitwit.

7:40pm, Old Grimmauld's Place

Head rushing like mad. Why in the bloody hell did I drink butterbeer? Am fool. Am no longer poised woman. Am dim-witted hoodwinker (picked up odd vocabulary from Bagman, who still owes me 3 galleons of gold, by the way. Pay me back my arse.)

Anyway came charging in room like mad hippogriff, in process had wakened Sirius' Mum back from the dead, who went shrieking in manner of banshees, tipped over an antique vase, and ran into the door.

Smashed door open, hair mad, mad, mad (Was in such hurry did not transform). Sticking at odd angles, I shout between pants, "I --- AM --- HERE. SORRY --- AM --- LATE."

Room went considerably quiet with stunned looking Sirius, Shaklebolt, Bagman (rest of Ministry clan who joined the Order) and a man, light brown hair with golden eyes, did not recognize. Was really taunt looking. Poor thing. Mm… bet is v. sexy beneath those lose, shabby robes… mmm…. Oh right. Musn't think that.

Sirius started laughing like mad and said, "Ah. Dear Cousin, how nice of you to join us."

Was about to say something but it died in the back of my throat. All eyes were on self. Was v. intimidating. Cleared voice and said, "Yeah. Er, sorry I'm late. Shall we go?"

Sex-Beneath-Robes clears his voice and says, "Actually, you're not."

Confused, I said, "What?"

Shaklebolt mumbles something like, "There's no pre-party."

Even more confused. "What?"

Sirius grins and said, cheeky bloody cousin, "It's starts at 8. We told you it started at 7 because we knew you'd be late."

Hmph. Bloody cheeks. All of them.

Slightly annoyed, I snapped, "Who in the bloody hell thought up of that idea?" Somewhat to self.

Sirius grins wider, gestures at Sex-Beneath-Robes, "Remus did. Old buddy, quite a gentleman, actually. Remus m'friend, I think your plan worked perfectly." He proceeded to give manly-man pat on Sex-Beneath-Robes' back.

Bloody bastard. Is no longer Sex Fiend Under Suspicious Robes.

"Gee, thanks," I hissed.

Shaklebolt started guffawing and threw him glare. Bloody males. Why did I agree to go?

A/N: Please review! Har har, more Tonks/Remus interaction at the actual party… next chapter. Sorry if this chappy's rather pointless and stupid.