Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't claim to. J.K Rowling owns them.
Author's Note: I had fun writing this little ficlet. Both Tonks and Snape are a great deal of fun to write and I may write this pairing again.
A Fine Lack of Subtly
Nymphadora Tonks was many things but subtle was not one of them.
"I think you've got a really nice arse," she informed Snape earnestly one evening after an Order meeting.
Snape, who had been walking out into the hall, stopped dead in the doorway and stared at her, while Bill Weasley, who was standing behind him, went into a silent laughing fit.
"And anyway," she continued, as though they'd been discussing the weather and not Snape's physical attributes, "I just thought you ought to know."
"Excuse me," said Bill, in a slightly strangled voice, pushing past Snape and Tonks and making a mad dash for the stairs.
Tonks ignored him, her eyes, a vibrant blue today, fixed on Snape's stunned face. Finally the shock melted into suspicion and he scowled at her. "I am not in the mood to be mocked Nympadora."
Tonks looked crestfallen, "I wasn't trying to be mocking, really. It's just that you've got this really fantastic arse and it was distracting me all through the bloody meeting and-"
"Stop," Snape held up one pale and long fingered hand. Tonks fell silent. "Do you mean to imply that you find me..." he seemed to be struggling for words, "*attractive*?"
Tonks considered this. "I suppose so, yes."
The notion that someone found him attractive was enough to send Snape into another bout of speechlessness.
The impending silence seemed a bit much for Tonks' nerves and it grew and spread like Butterbeer across the floor until she was seriously contemplating tearing at her bright blue hair.
And it appeared that Snape was going to stare at her like a Blast-Ended Skrewt for the rest of eternity so she swallowed hard and began to speak. "Listen Snape, now that I've sufficiently freaked you out I should probably go, because I'll only humiliate myself further if I stay and-"
Snape came back to himself with an irritable sigh, leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. And Tonks had only the fleeting sensation of dry warm lips brushing against her own before he drew away.
"You ridiculous, foolish, blue-haired *cretin*," he scowled at her and Tonks felt the small silly glimmer of hope extinguished. "You have no subtly whatsoever and if you don't meet me at the Leaky Caldron tomorrow for drinks you'll find that I'll be most displeased."
Tonks paused to process that last sentence which had been rife with Snapish insults. As comprehension dawned she looked up at him gleefully, "Are you asking me on a date?"
He looked, Tonks realized with amusement, extremely embarrassed, and without answering her, stalked past, down the hall and out the front door, slamming it behind him.
And as Tonks rushed over to stop the screams of Mrs. Black, she grinned to herself. Sometimes, she thought, subtly was highly overrated.
Author's Note: I had fun writing this little ficlet. Both Tonks and Snape are a great deal of fun to write and I may write this pairing again.
A Fine Lack of Subtly
Nymphadora Tonks was many things but subtle was not one of them.
"I think you've got a really nice arse," she informed Snape earnestly one evening after an Order meeting.
Snape, who had been walking out into the hall, stopped dead in the doorway and stared at her, while Bill Weasley, who was standing behind him, went into a silent laughing fit.
"And anyway," she continued, as though they'd been discussing the weather and not Snape's physical attributes, "I just thought you ought to know."
"Excuse me," said Bill, in a slightly strangled voice, pushing past Snape and Tonks and making a mad dash for the stairs.
Tonks ignored him, her eyes, a vibrant blue today, fixed on Snape's stunned face. Finally the shock melted into suspicion and he scowled at her. "I am not in the mood to be mocked Nympadora."
Tonks looked crestfallen, "I wasn't trying to be mocking, really. It's just that you've got this really fantastic arse and it was distracting me all through the bloody meeting and-"
"Stop," Snape held up one pale and long fingered hand. Tonks fell silent. "Do you mean to imply that you find me..." he seemed to be struggling for words, "*attractive*?"
Tonks considered this. "I suppose so, yes."
The notion that someone found him attractive was enough to send Snape into another bout of speechlessness.
The impending silence seemed a bit much for Tonks' nerves and it grew and spread like Butterbeer across the floor until she was seriously contemplating tearing at her bright blue hair.
And it appeared that Snape was going to stare at her like a Blast-Ended Skrewt for the rest of eternity so she swallowed hard and began to speak. "Listen Snape, now that I've sufficiently freaked you out I should probably go, because I'll only humiliate myself further if I stay and-"
Snape came back to himself with an irritable sigh, leaned down and kissed her lightly on the mouth. And Tonks had only the fleeting sensation of dry warm lips brushing against her own before he drew away.
"You ridiculous, foolish, blue-haired *cretin*," he scowled at her and Tonks felt the small silly glimmer of hope extinguished. "You have no subtly whatsoever and if you don't meet me at the Leaky Caldron tomorrow for drinks you'll find that I'll be most displeased."
Tonks paused to process that last sentence which had been rife with Snapish insults. As comprehension dawned she looked up at him gleefully, "Are you asking me on a date?"
He looked, Tonks realized with amusement, extremely embarrassed, and without answering her, stalked past, down the hall and out the front door, slamming it behind him.
And as Tonks rushed over to stop the screams of Mrs. Black, she grinned to herself. Sometimes, she thought, subtly was highly overrated.