I'm soooooooooooooo sorry! I've had this chapter written for about three months, but with all the crazy stuff that was going on ever since December, I haven't found the time to get this up. Forgive me for not getting it up sooner. And aside from the usual tottering mountain of schoolwork behind me, I've also revised my Quote Board (see bottom of profile for more information) to keep TheSongRemainsTheSame from jumping me. : )
Thanks to SilverMoonShining, DreamingGlass, Me, Wolfesque, thesongremainsthesame, and Bardlover for the reviews! Here's a couple of handfuls of Lindt Lindor Truffles!
Disclaimer: I don't have trouble looking for lined paper. I don't live in a lovely town called Edinburgh. I, however, do find society's views on a person's body rather disturbing and shall fall behind the great JKR and tackle every person who thinks they should become anorexic in order to conform to society's petty ideals. Err...I'm not Jo Rowling.
His Metamorphmagus
Chapter VI:
Names and Preparations
An eerie shadow stirred as the wind breathed a cool breeze across the checkered countryside. A bird's nest quivered in its niche of a sturdy tree as a small robin bounced delicately out of its home. It ruffled and preened its feathers before inhaling importantly. A bright note burst from its tiny lungs, welcoming the new day. The sun responded as its rays made their way over the shadowy horizon, staining the clouds and sky pink. The shadow shook itself awake and watched the sunrise with disdain. The robin, after finishing its morning solo, chirped at the shadow in a scolding manner. The gray grumbled. The bird dove and pecked at it. The sun rose and beamed at the countryside, embracing a light fluffy cloud. The feathered creature drew a wriggling brown worm from the ground as the shadow shot away.The robinset off triumphantly toward an apple orchard on a hill. On the other side of the orchard stood a house with many lopsided stories, crooked chimneys, and an untidy, weedy lawn. The wire door of the chicken coop slid open and a group of brown hens clucked out, poking at the dusty ground for worms and crumbs of meal.
A plump red-haired lady hummed as she stepped out the back door. Her patched, worn robes whirled around as cornmeal magicked itself on the ground. Even though the day just broke, it was evident to the robin, which was considering a grain of meal, that the woman had been up for a while.
Mrs. Weasley smiled with good humor as she turned away from the clucking birds. Nothing could get in her way today, not even the muddy gnome that was digging through her garden. She had four hours to cook a meal for two dozen, but it was a special occasion. Nothing could bring her spirits down. Except maybe…
"No!"
"Please?"
"No!"
"Please?"
A pause. Pattering feet. Something scraped across the floorboards of the kitchen. More footfalls.
"NO!"
Molly Weasley entered her kitchen, concern and confusion etched across her face. The breakfast she had made before going out to feed her livestock sat on the table. Steam rose from the mountains of eggs, stacks of toast, rows of sausages, and tureens of porridge. Around the table, Remus Lupin was chasing pink-haired Nymphadora Tonks. A chair dragged behind the girl. The two came to a screeching halt when the floorboards creaked beneath Molly's feet. Tonks' chair collided with the girl, causing one of the platters on the table to totter toward the table's ledge.
"What are you two doing up at this hour chasing one another around my table?" she asked severely as she restored the platter to its rightful place with a wave of her wand. She then redirected her wandpoint to the stove as she prepared to make lunch for the wedding guests. "Honestly, I would expect this sort of behavior from Fleur and Bill or even Harry and Ginny, but you two…"
"Wotcher, Molly," Tonks greeted with a cheeky grin. "We were just debating on how we're going to help you with lunch."
"All right," Molly eyed the two suspiciously as she conjured a rich, creamy soup into a pot. "First, however, you're going to tell me why you were chasing each other around like a couple of love-stricken teenagers."
Molly glared at Tonks. Tonks glared at Remus. Remus stared at the floor. The three stood in silence (save for the occasional giggle from an on-looking gnome). Tonks' face contorted from frustration.
"It's Remus," she grumbled. "He insists on calling me by my first name."
"What, did you expect, me to call you by your surname for the rest of your life?" demanded Remus. He smiled slightly as he added, "Nymphadora," in a playful, almost wicked, tone.
Tonks cringed as the four-syllable word rolled off his tongue. "Were you not listening when I told you about the horror stories from my childhood that pertained to that pathetic excuse of a name?" she fumed. "Please don't call me by it…"
Remus' eyes fell. "But I let you call me by my first name," he argued gently.
"Remus does not hold a candle to Nymphadora," retorted the metamorphmagus.
"Yes, but you were schooled at home until you went to Hogwarts," he pointed out.
"Yes…" Tonks replied slowly.
"I went to primary school—with that name, mind you—until I was bitten by Greyback when I was eight. Can you imagine going to primary school with a name like Remus?"
Tonks' face softened. "Oh, well, I suppose…"
"So, may I call you Nymphadora?"
She didn't even pause to consider the question. "No."
"But—"
"Honestly!" Molly looked up from two batches of dough that were kneading themselves on the floured countertop, "you two are worse than—than Ron and Hermione!"
The two simultaneously perked up with interest.
"So those two finally got together?" Tonks interrogated eagerly.
"No, but I wish they would," Molly impatiently Banished a levitated jar of flour across the room and into the cupboard. "Honestly, everyone see it—even Fleur!—and they still act as though nothing is there!"
The sturdy glass container flew upwards and somersaulted before crashing down on the wooden floorboards. White powder exploded and drifted lazily about. Molly quickly restored the cracked jar and Vanished the flour with a flick of her wand before turning back to the other two. She appeared to have regained her composure as she spoke calmly, "Why don't you come up with a name that the both of you agree on?"
"But I want—" began Remus.
"Young man," chided Molly as she placed the dough into a greased pan, "you have much to learn about relationships." She jabbed her wand at the pair (Remus winced) and directed the tip to the corner of the kitchen (behind the couple). "Now go to that corner and don't leave it until you have this settled!"
A pair of chairs scurried across the room to the destination as the bewildered couple exchanged astonished glances. Mixing bowls and wooden spoons gently prodded their backs, forcing them to obey Molly's orders or face the wrath of the Weasley mother's infamous bellows (now heard in Liverpool and Dover).
As they took their seats, quick rhythmic beats sounded from the staircase. Then tall, balding Arthur Weasley entered the room, humming tunelessly under his breath as he leapt across the room to his wife and planted a peck on her lips before grabbing her hands and twirling around the room. "Bill and Fleur are to be wed! At least my son is a man! Let us dance and rejoice, now and when I'm a gramps! Huzzah! They are to be wed!" he sang as they finished the impromptu waltz with a dramatic dip.
Molly laughed as she straightened herself from the low arch and gently turned her husband to face the occupied corner. Remus sat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he concentrated on the pitcher of juice before him, and Tonks appeared to be torn between giggling and 'aww'ing. Arthur's balding head reddened to such a shade, it would have made a sunburnt radish proud. He then mumbled something about the morning paper and Errol (the family owl's ) bad health and tendency to be abused by the gnomes before bounding out the back door.
"Quite a romantic man you have there," observed the giggling Tonks. "I see why you married him."
Molly opened her mouth to reply, her cheeks slightly flushed from either affection or embarrassment (though Remus was convinced it had to be a mixture of the two emotions), but a series of wild pounding footfalls from the staircase halted her words.
Apair of twins entered the room with identical groggy expressions, followed by a tousle-haired man, rubbing his bleary eyes with the back of his rough, tanned hands, and a wide-awake, beaming man (whose face was slightly distorted from a deep scratch etched across his visage).
"Morning boys," sang Molly as she started to concoct the filling for a dozen or so pies. "What are you doing up this early?"
"Bill," Charlie glared with good humor at the eldest of the four, "woke us up."
"Yeah, you would think a person would tone it down at the crack of dawn," grumbled Fred.
"Personally," interjected George, "breaking a flailing arms dance and tripping over occupied sleeping bags is a poor way to wake a dear brother up."
"I see where Arthur's dancing genes went," Tonks commented to Remus from their corner.
Fred and George whirled around, their expressions cleared of grogginess and replaced with identical evil looks as they caught sight of and studied the couple in the 'Weasley time out corner'. They made distinct tutting noises and wagged their index fingers from side to side.
"What did you two do to get on our dear mum's bad side?" George asked with a mock sigh of disappointment.
"Molly walked in on us playing strip Quidditch," Tonks replied airily.
Fred, who had snatched up a strip of bacon, choked on the fried sliver of meat. His twin pounded him on the back as the two gawked at the couple in the corner.
"Lupin, mate," Fred croaked in awe, "never thought you had it in you…"
Molly had to grab the countertop for support, she was laughing so hard. Her towel whipped back and forth as she gasped for air. Remus chortled heartily and even the eldest Weasley boys smiled, infected by the warm laughter (rather than the unknown quip).
"Gotcha," Tonks commented through a cheeky grin.
The twins mouthed wordlessly at the couple.
"You know," a groggy voice, not unlike the one Fred had used earlier, "some of us prefer to sleep past five."
Remus slightly angled his head and found the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, who was dressed in a scratchy maroon sweater, had entered the kitchen along with his bleary-eyed friend, Harry Potter.
Remus recognized the strange glint, hidden beneath the sleepiness, in the emerald orbs of young Mr. Potter. He had taken careful note of it when he spoke to the young man after Professor Dumbledore's funeral. It mirrored the look in Lily Potter's eyes when she and her husband fought against Death Eaters and spoke of fighting to defend those she loved. Everyone in the house knew what was to come in the near future, but there he was, standing in the doorway and preparing himself for a wedding. It seemed odd to take a pause from the worry and fighting, even for just a day, in order to unite two loving people in an oath to stay by one another's side until the end of their lives.
Remus floated out of his thoughts and directed his attention to the group before him as Molly explained the situation to the group. A small cluster of girls had assembled in the doorway, listening attentively. They giggled and smiled when Molly finished her summary, startling the young man. Bushy haired Hermione Granger, grinning Ginny, and the stunning Delacour sisters entered the room, greeting the group warmly. Hermione and Ron bumped into one another, causing blood rushes to the head and stammers of apologies to sputter out of the youngest Weasley boy. They parted and took seats on either side of Harry Potter, who was exchanging a knowing grin with the red haired girl seated across from him. Plates, utensils, and napkins floated down the table as seats were obtained and the morning meal began.
"What time are your parents arriving?" Harry asked Gabrielle, the younger sister of the bride-to-be.
The twelve-year-old flushed slightly at being addressed by the famous Harry Potter. "zey are 'oo arrive around ze ten o'clock," she replied shyly.
Harry sat back slightly, his eyes glazed with thoughtfulness. His friends urged him to eat Molly's excellent cooking, temporarily erasing the plans for the future.
"What about Dora?" Billy called to the couple over the clank of silverware.
"What?"
"You know, Nymphadora," Bill emphasized the last two syllables.
Tonks and Remus exchanged horrified looks.
"Does she look like an overgrown toad in a pink cardigan to you?" Harry asked Ron.
"What…?" Bill shot them a quizzical look as the room's volume lowered significantly. The majority of the crowd turned and looked at the scarred man in disbelief.
"If you're suggesting that Tonks is like Dolores Umbridge," began Remus as he crumbled a piece of toast in his hand.
"Good Merlin no!" Bill yelped, realizing his mistake.
"I bet that's what Umbridge asked Fudge to call her," Ron stated darkly through a mouthful of eggs. "She loved him so much…"
Hermione shuddered, "Ron, I'm eating! I really don't need a mental image of the two snogging, all right?"
"What about…" Remus thought for a moment, his spoonful of porridge suspended in midair, "Nympha…dormagus…?"
Tonks chucked a knife tip of butter at him.
Remus slowly picked the square of animal fat off the shoulder of his shabby robes, "So that's a no?"
"First off, that's what you called my mother," she playfully tapped his shin with her toe, "and that's just weird. And second…well, it sounds…strange."
Bill snickered and Remus warningly waved his napkin of breadcrumbs at the younger man.
"Oh, wait!" Ron waved his loaded fork around (flinging bits of egg at Harry and Hermione). "Oh, sorry. But what about…" he took in a deep breath, pausing to build up the suspense for his brilliant idea. "N. T."
Remus swore crickets were chirping.
"N…T…?" Tonks repeated in a slow, disbelieving tone.
"Ezzn't zat a muggle zing?" Gabrielle asked her sister with a curious tilt of her brilliant head.
"You know, her initials!" Ron explained enthusiastically as he dunked a sticky spoonful of porridge onto his browned toast. "Aw, c'mon, it's romantic."
"Ron, Ron!" Ginny reached across the table and grabbed her brother's ear in horror. "Shut up, okay? Just shut up and eat your…porridge on toast?"
"N…T…" Tonks repeated in the same horrified tone.
"My dear younger brother," Fred threw his arm around Ron in what he apparently thought was a brotherly gesture, "I question your romantic abilities and the state of your taste buds."
Ron, whose face was purpling slightly either from the brotherly arm tightly circled around his neck or the attention directed at him, ignored Fred's arm and Ginny's pinch as he topped off his breakfast masterpiece with two extra crispy slivers of bacon, half a sausage, a slice of fried tomato, and a generous dollop of ketchup.
"N…T…" Tonks stated again, still in horror and disbelief.
Hermione sighed and leaned around Harry, "George, tell your twin to stop choking Ron, please."
"Why don't you shorten her name or something?" Molly suggested as Ron gingerly rubbed his bright red ear.
"But not Dora, huh?" glowered Bill, but Fleur quickly distracted him with a gentle whisper in the ear.
"No…something like…like…oh, I don't know, Nymphie?"
"Ooh, no!" Fleur quickly cut in, her magnificent face pulled into a horrified expression. "Zee neemph eez a beauteeful water goddeez 'oo eez graceful and lovelee. Nooo, noo, noo, zes eez not 'ow we will name zee Tonks."
"Thanks…Fleur," Tonks thanked the younger woman with uncertainty. "So, apparently I'm not…well, yeah, I'm not graceful."
"Of course you are!" Remus reassured her.
"Do you really need reminding of the day at the Leaky Cauldron when I tripped and nearly toppled over my congratulatory cake?"
"No, because you only tripped and knocked over a row of chairs and spilled a drink," he corrected her with a quick squeeze of her hand.
Tonks' face arranged itself into a thoughtful expression as she tried to remember the day the two met five years before.
Mr. Weasley, who had been sipping his tea reflectively, set down his cup and spoke up, "What about something cute…something like…Tonks-a-dora?"
"Something public friendly would be nice," said Remus.
"Sknot!" cried Fred.
"Pha!" interjected George.
"Patty!"
"Bo Ram!"
"Stomp!"
"Minnie!"
"Poo!"
"Danish cookies!"
Remus chucked heartily as the twins continued the list of potential names for Tonks. She released a radiant smile from behind the rim of her sturdy mug of steaming coffee. The rest of the group applauded some suggestions and denounced others (though mostly the latter of the two reactions) with great enthusiasm.
Tonks, overcome with laughter, finally threw her hands up in defeat, "All right, all right! I give in!"
Remus looked at her in surprise.
"You may call me whatever you want," she surrendered with a smile. "Just don't call me sknot, all right?"
Remus did not reply, but leaned in for a gentle brush of her lips to seal the promise.
"Where did you get sknot from, anyway?" Charlie asked Fred.
"It's Tonks spelled backwards, keep up!" Fred threw his arm around the neck of his tanned brother's shoulders. "You have much to learn about the art of using backwards spelled names."
"And you lot," Mrs. Weasley interjected with a clap of her hands, pushing away from the table, "need to get ready for the wedding."
With the name issue behind them, the six Weasley men and Harry left the kitchen to de-gnome the garden, set up tables, line up a few dozen chairs, and other odd jobs before the afternoon ceremony. The Delacour sisters, Ginny, and Hermione tied on flowery aprons and tied their hair back to help Mrs. Weasley with the cooking. Remus and Tonks helped clean up the dishes as soups were concocted, vegetables were steamed, and breads were baked, and a magnificent cake was slowly decorated.
"Why are you cooking?" Remus voiced his question to Fleur when he passed her while magicking a stack of dirty dishes into the sink.
"Eet eez my wedding and I weesh 'oo make sure zath everything goes well," Fleur replied from behind a bowl of white chocolate ganache that was applying itself to a five tiered cake.
"But she's going to stop after the cake to get ready," Hermione added as she slipped a pan of rolls into the oven. "After all, she is the bride."
Fleur shot the bushy haired girl a quick smile as the icing poured itself into a small clear bag. White turned into gold and a small hole wasclipped in a corner. The small bag flew around the tiers, leaving behind golden flowers and gleaming trails along the edges. Within minutes, chocolate shaped butterflies were placed on the glossy icing and Fleur stepped back to admire her handiwork. Her sister 'oo'ed and 'ahh'ed in awe. Then the majority of the group filed upstairs to prepare for the afternoon ceremony.
"Hermione and I will finish up in here," Molly said as she Banished a greasy pan to the sink.
"Oh, no, Molly, we'll help!" Tonks stepped forward and took a hold of a tray of steaming rolls.
A gasp filtered through the room as Tonks cheerfully shot away, heading for the table. Her foot almost immediately hooked around the leg of a stray chair and down went both the tray and Tonks. The palm of Tonks' hands hit the wooden floor with a resounded thump.
"Accio!" Hermione cried.
A single roll shot at the bushy haired girl.
Remus lunged forward and caught the tray. The little mounds of bread bounced and jerked about, but, all in all, it was well.
"Remus, thank you," Molly took the tray from the man on the floor. As she carefully set the bread on the table, Remus turned to Tonks and helped her to her feet.
"Why don't you two go and check on the others?" Hermione suggested as she tossed the roll of bread onto the tray.
"Erm…sure," Tonks said sheepishly. "I'm sorry about—"
"It's quite all right dear," Mrs. Weasley said reassuringly as she returned to a steaming pot, her jaws somewhat clenched. "Run along now."
The pair exited the kitchen and started up the staircase. Remus' arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Their steady footfalls stumbled somewhat and Tonks laughed as she tried to match strides with him.
"I think…" he whispered in her ear, "I'll call you my metamorphmagus."
"What, not Dora or Sknots?" she asked, shoving him playfully.
They came to a stop before a white door with block letter that formed 'Ginevra' across the middle.
He leaned in, "Not unless you want me to."
She grinned, also leaning forward, "No, I think I'm content."
The gap between them diminished and their lips locked together…
"No, really, I thought I heard—" the door swung open and a gasp tore through the air. The door slammed shut again as the couple parted, confused and sheepish.
The door swung again and there stood Ginny, her face the same shade of red as her fiery hair. The two Delacour sisters were buzzing next to the door, looking about eagerly.
"Come een, Tonks," Fleur, who was already in a magnificent white gown with a poofy skirt and elaborate embroidery, motioned for the girl to enter. "Eetz time for you 'oo change."
"Wha…what?" stammered the now confused Tonks.
Right on cue, Gabrielle (in her gorgeous gold dress that matched her flaxen hair) withdrew a glimmering violet dress from the wardrobe. Remus swore he could hear Tonks gag.
"I told them you wouldn't like it," Ginny, who had crossed the room, whispered to the couple.
Before Lupin could say or do anything, Fleur had pulled poor Tonks into the room. The door shut and the lock clicked shut.
"Now, I was theenking zat 'oo should change your 'air eentoo anuzzer color…"
Lupin couldn't help but smile as Tonks' protests rang through the air. She was his metamorphmagus.
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Fin.
Tee hee… This whole chapter was kinda random and stuff—it was mostly inspired by a combination of this crazy Asian family gathering that I attended a few years ago and the Leaky Mug merge that Mugglenet & The Leaky Cauldron pulled at the beginning of the month. So…some—most of the characters are probably really outta character.
Done. Done. Done! It only took…seemingly forever (but a good forever).
Now I'm going to make everyone feel special and list everyone who's reviewed.
Cathree
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xanya-forever
SweetDeath04
Galenturiel
Elf771
Mag
Chaotic Pink Chocobo
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Squee!
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DarkSideoftheMoon
SexyFace
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SilverMoonShining
DreamingGlass
Me
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TheSongRemainsTheSame
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Thanks to everyone who reviewed and kept me going! You're all the best!
And now, as a closing gift, I shall offer my reviewers brownies, chocolate, and smoothies from Tropical Smoothie! Yummmm! Oh, and not to mention PRETZELS (the soft kind that I specialize in)—or our 'world famous ' lemonade.
All right. I've drawn it out long enough.
Totters,
Chikin Wang