My readership should be informed about my odd relationship with the Sisters. It all began in the Hufflepuff common room, where I taught Donaghan Tremlett, my best mate, how to play the bass. As time passed and homework procrastination abounded, I exposed him to the greats of Muggle music. Yes, yes. I know. I created the genius that is the Weird Sisters. Then I explained to him very patiently that Celestina Warbeck and her brand of "pop", when played backwards, yielded Satanic messages. Finally he was ready to test the waters of stardom.
As we grew older and Donnie wanted to form a band, he asked me to be the lead singer. I demonstrated that if this had occurred, the only audience the band would get would be a few toads and Professor Flitwick. So he accosted Myron Wagtail of Ravenclaw, who was already establishing himself as a musician in his own right, and the Weird Sisters were born. The other guys- Heathcote, Herman, Kirley, Orsino, Gideon, and Merton- auditioned, and voila, they were recording an album and going on a European tour.
While many members of the band, especially darling Myron, are madly in love with me (owing to my superior sexiness, of course), I like to keep it simple and stay unattatched. Besides, they're all far too dirty and hairy.
"Oy, Tonks! You look a bit flummoxed!" shouts Gideon, the vast bagpipe player wearing a pink tartan kilt and Chuck Taylors. "Wotcher, Gid. You know, bad day"
"We missed you last night. Where were you? We thought we'd see you around backstage." This from the loud Myron. "Come over and sit 'ere." He pats the couch where there is a very narrow spot between him and the arm. I sit down and immediately regret it. He puts his muscly arm around me and begins to stroke my shoulder. "I had a bloody report to finish, innit, or I'd have been there in a second." I keep the weirded-out-ness and depressed-ness in my voice to a bare min. Instead, I put some pep into my request fot the boys to regale me with how the concert went.
"Smash, o' course," says Gideon, who has naturally raided my top-secret Honeydukes stash and was munching happily. "Twenty thousand heads, and not but eighteen riots"
"You call that a smash?" sulks the quiet but oddly snarky Orsino. "Last time we had twenty-five"
"Yeah, well, at least this time the MLE's didn't swoop down like vultures," says Heathcote, the lead guitarist with dark, leathery skin and golden caps on his two front bottom teeth. Donaghan shoots him a look that means "Get bent. I very cheerfully catch the look, and reply jovially, "No, no, Donoghan, let him say what he will... stupid MLE pussies, don't know what they're doing half the time, anyway." I grin, holding up my Aurur badge I retrieve from my cloak's inner pocket. "Aurors are the only ones who know what we're about"
Donaghan grins at me and gives me a high five. "Bad Ass Tonks, hmmm"
"Bet your boots." Myron squeezes me and looks down at me. I avoid his eyes. "So, anyway," I continue, "How did you play? Did they like it? Did you have fun backstage afterwards?" I wink at Merton, the youngest addition to the Sisters, whom they recruited after a stint in Dublin in which they witnessed him playing cello at the hotel they were using as a Fortress of Partying. Merton, it is generally believed by but not divulged to every member of the group, lost his virginity to a fan he had met backstage; his cello playing has certainly become more passionate since the night the incident is reported to have taken place.
The guys keep me up for two hours, talking, and apart from Myron's constant ministrations, I like it. It makes me feel young again, to know they are still keen on having me listen to them and their antics. But it's getting on and I feel my eyes yearning to stay closed when I blink. I unceremoniously kick them out, dodging Myron's attempted goodbye kiss, and after petting Sirius, they head out and Apparate back to their own flat. Just as I close my door on them, I turn around to find the fully grown Sirius in place of the dog. "You never told me you made it a habit of consorting with rock stars." Sirius is grinning.
"You like them?" I ask him offhandedly, bending over to pick up the eight or thirty chocolate wrappers Gideon left in his wake. "I do. That Myron bloke got terribly fresh with you, though. I had the keenest urge to box his ears. No one messes with my little Tonks," he explains affectionately as I give him an alarmed look. "Yeah, well, if only you had boxed in Richard's ears..." I mutter, not wanting to cause Sirius's protective feelings to swell again, but wanting to share all the same. It seems he didn't hear me. He is busy glancing around my apartment. "Hmmm," I hear him mutter. "Thinking of setting up shop here?" I ask him hopefully. "'Cause it's too small, but if you wanted to get a bigger place"
"Nah, I'm staying with Lupin. Although I think... If we weren't about to set up Headquarters... But that's neither here nor there," he finishes with an air of one trying to change the subject.
I do it for him. "Dinner?" He looks almost like a boy again. I should have offered him something sooner; I had been rather loudly preoccupied. "You got anything vaguely human? Kirley Duke offered me a Doggy Delite, and I didn't want him to think your pooch had bad manners"
"Er- well, I've got the Volatile Vanilla, and I can whip up some pasta in a mo', and"
There was the sound, once again, of the doorbell. I looked apologetically at my cousin, who shrugged as he went canine. "Probably just Remus again." I glance warily out the window and see that it is, indeed, Remus, accompanied by Kingsley, Mad Eye Moody, and none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. The three of them make their way past me into my modest parlor, where Sirius Black sat once again. "Do sit down," I manage uncomfortably, not having ever spoken personally with Moody, having been scolded three times by a very peeved Dumbledore, and having just properly become reacquainted with Lupin. They do not sit down at the moment, and instead, Albus steps forward. ""Nymphadora Tonks, I am here to discern the reasons for your interest in joining the Order of the Phoenix. It is our mission to see to it that we cleanse our numbers of the cowardly, the disloyal, and the slothful, so that only the bravest and purest of motive remain"
"What could possibly be 'impure of motive' about wanting to get rid of You-Know-Who?" I spurt before I can stop myself. Oh, shit, I think to myself, I've gone and done it.
But the headmaster of Hogwarts laughed a little, and Moody gave a gruff snort. "Got a point, the lass does, Albus. Go on"
Smiling at her kindly now, Dumbledore continued his speech as the four of them stood just inside the doorway."I will administer a test, which only a true, faithful servant of what is good shall pass. It is necessary, however, that we are alone. Is there another chamber to which we can adjourn?" He looks about him, amused. "I have heard that you are in posession of the Weird Sisters' Edinburgh Extrava-tacular Tour limited edition foil-stamped poster, from Kingsley. I should very much like to see it; I'm a big fan." I catch Lupin and Sirius giving Kingsley, then Dumbledore, awed looks, but don't respond. "Right this way, Professor." I lead him to my bedroom. He is looking around still, greatly amused at something, and Lupin, I notice vaguely as I look back, is mildly interested as well.
We arrive in my robin-egg blue bedroom, plastered much the same as my cubicle is with posters and sketches and framed portraits. Immediately, Dumbledore gasps in delight as he sees The Poster, and stops for five minutes to stare at it as if it were a posh exhibit by a famous painter. Then he wheels on his heels and looks me in the eyes quite unexpectedly, our noses nearly touching as it registers how close he is.
I get the feeling he is searching me on the inside, and it's not a Legilimency feeling, either. All Aurors in training have to endure that experience at least once in our education so we'll know what it's like. And all have fairly rigorous Occlumency lessons too, although I was never at the top of that class. But it's almost as if he were probing my soul, willing it to do something mutinous. 'I have quite a normal soul, thank you very much," says a voice inside me, and at this, Dumbledore laughs, pulling away.
He shook his head. "You are going to be a joy to work with, Miss Tonks." "What about the test?" I ask rather stupidly.
"You have already passed it," he answers enigmatically, with the kind of amused eye-twinkle that only he can pull off.
I beam in pride, feeling I have never pleased so great a wizard as Dumbledore before. A silly Hufflepuff; I had pleased Dumbledore!
"Thank you, Sir." I waited on him to go through the door I held open.
He looked as if he wanted to offer to hold the door instead, wisely thought better if it, and then we all joined the others.
As we grew older and Donnie wanted to form a band, he asked me to be the lead singer. I demonstrated that if this had occurred, the only audience the band would get would be a few toads and Professor Flitwick. So he accosted Myron Wagtail of Ravenclaw, who was already establishing himself as a musician in his own right, and the Weird Sisters were born. The other guys- Heathcote, Herman, Kirley, Orsino, Gideon, and Merton- auditioned, and voila, they were recording an album and going on a European tour.
While many members of the band, especially darling Myron, are madly in love with me (owing to my superior sexiness, of course), I like to keep it simple and stay unattatched. Besides, they're all far too dirty and hairy.
"Oy, Tonks! You look a bit flummoxed!" shouts Gideon, the vast bagpipe player wearing a pink tartan kilt and Chuck Taylors. "Wotcher, Gid. You know, bad day"
"We missed you last night. Where were you? We thought we'd see you around backstage." This from the loud Myron. "Come over and sit 'ere." He pats the couch where there is a very narrow spot between him and the arm. I sit down and immediately regret it. He puts his muscly arm around me and begins to stroke my shoulder. "I had a bloody report to finish, innit, or I'd have been there in a second." I keep the weirded-out-ness and depressed-ness in my voice to a bare min. Instead, I put some pep into my request fot the boys to regale me with how the concert went.
"Smash, o' course," says Gideon, who has naturally raided my top-secret Honeydukes stash and was munching happily. "Twenty thousand heads, and not but eighteen riots"
"You call that a smash?" sulks the quiet but oddly snarky Orsino. "Last time we had twenty-five"
"Yeah, well, at least this time the MLE's didn't swoop down like vultures," says Heathcote, the lead guitarist with dark, leathery skin and golden caps on his two front bottom teeth. Donaghan shoots him a look that means "Get bent. I very cheerfully catch the look, and reply jovially, "No, no, Donoghan, let him say what he will... stupid MLE pussies, don't know what they're doing half the time, anyway." I grin, holding up my Aurur badge I retrieve from my cloak's inner pocket. "Aurors are the only ones who know what we're about"
Donaghan grins at me and gives me a high five. "Bad Ass Tonks, hmmm"
"Bet your boots." Myron squeezes me and looks down at me. I avoid his eyes. "So, anyway," I continue, "How did you play? Did they like it? Did you have fun backstage afterwards?" I wink at Merton, the youngest addition to the Sisters, whom they recruited after a stint in Dublin in which they witnessed him playing cello at the hotel they were using as a Fortress of Partying. Merton, it is generally believed by but not divulged to every member of the group, lost his virginity to a fan he had met backstage; his cello playing has certainly become more passionate since the night the incident is reported to have taken place.
The guys keep me up for two hours, talking, and apart from Myron's constant ministrations, I like it. It makes me feel young again, to know they are still keen on having me listen to them and their antics. But it's getting on and I feel my eyes yearning to stay closed when I blink. I unceremoniously kick them out, dodging Myron's attempted goodbye kiss, and after petting Sirius, they head out and Apparate back to their own flat. Just as I close my door on them, I turn around to find the fully grown Sirius in place of the dog. "You never told me you made it a habit of consorting with rock stars." Sirius is grinning.
"You like them?" I ask him offhandedly, bending over to pick up the eight or thirty chocolate wrappers Gideon left in his wake. "I do. That Myron bloke got terribly fresh with you, though. I had the keenest urge to box his ears. No one messes with my little Tonks," he explains affectionately as I give him an alarmed look. "Yeah, well, if only you had boxed in Richard's ears..." I mutter, not wanting to cause Sirius's protective feelings to swell again, but wanting to share all the same. It seems he didn't hear me. He is busy glancing around my apartment. "Hmmm," I hear him mutter. "Thinking of setting up shop here?" I ask him hopefully. "'Cause it's too small, but if you wanted to get a bigger place"
"Nah, I'm staying with Lupin. Although I think... If we weren't about to set up Headquarters... But that's neither here nor there," he finishes with an air of one trying to change the subject.
I do it for him. "Dinner?" He looks almost like a boy again. I should have offered him something sooner; I had been rather loudly preoccupied. "You got anything vaguely human? Kirley Duke offered me a Doggy Delite, and I didn't want him to think your pooch had bad manners"
"Er- well, I've got the Volatile Vanilla, and I can whip up some pasta in a mo', and"
There was the sound, once again, of the doorbell. I looked apologetically at my cousin, who shrugged as he went canine. "Probably just Remus again." I glance warily out the window and see that it is, indeed, Remus, accompanied by Kingsley, Mad Eye Moody, and none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. The three of them make their way past me into my modest parlor, where Sirius Black sat once again. "Do sit down," I manage uncomfortably, not having ever spoken personally with Moody, having been scolded three times by a very peeved Dumbledore, and having just properly become reacquainted with Lupin. They do not sit down at the moment, and instead, Albus steps forward. ""Nymphadora Tonks, I am here to discern the reasons for your interest in joining the Order of the Phoenix. It is our mission to see to it that we cleanse our numbers of the cowardly, the disloyal, and the slothful, so that only the bravest and purest of motive remain"
"What could possibly be 'impure of motive' about wanting to get rid of You-Know-Who?" I spurt before I can stop myself. Oh, shit, I think to myself, I've gone and done it.
But the headmaster of Hogwarts laughed a little, and Moody gave a gruff snort. "Got a point, the lass does, Albus. Go on"
Smiling at her kindly now, Dumbledore continued his speech as the four of them stood just inside the doorway."I will administer a test, which only a true, faithful servant of what is good shall pass. It is necessary, however, that we are alone. Is there another chamber to which we can adjourn?" He looks about him, amused. "I have heard that you are in posession of the Weird Sisters' Edinburgh Extrava-tacular Tour limited edition foil-stamped poster, from Kingsley. I should very much like to see it; I'm a big fan." I catch Lupin and Sirius giving Kingsley, then Dumbledore, awed looks, but don't respond. "Right this way, Professor." I lead him to my bedroom. He is looking around still, greatly amused at something, and Lupin, I notice vaguely as I look back, is mildly interested as well.
We arrive in my robin-egg blue bedroom, plastered much the same as my cubicle is with posters and sketches and framed portraits. Immediately, Dumbledore gasps in delight as he sees The Poster, and stops for five minutes to stare at it as if it were a posh exhibit by a famous painter. Then he wheels on his heels and looks me in the eyes quite unexpectedly, our noses nearly touching as it registers how close he is.
I get the feeling he is searching me on the inside, and it's not a Legilimency feeling, either. All Aurors in training have to endure that experience at least once in our education so we'll know what it's like. And all have fairly rigorous Occlumency lessons too, although I was never at the top of that class. But it's almost as if he were probing my soul, willing it to do something mutinous. 'I have quite a normal soul, thank you very much," says a voice inside me, and at this, Dumbledore laughs, pulling away.
He shook his head. "You are going to be a joy to work with, Miss Tonks." "What about the test?" I ask rather stupidly.
"You have already passed it," he answers enigmatically, with the kind of amused eye-twinkle that only he can pull off.
I beam in pride, feeling I have never pleased so great a wizard as Dumbledore before. A silly Hufflepuff; I had pleased Dumbledore!
"Thank you, Sir." I waited on him to go through the door I held open.
He looked as if he wanted to offer to hold the door instead, wisely thought better if it, and then we all joined the others.