Most Definitely NOT a Date

Most Definitely NOT a Date

"What do you think of this one?" asked Tonks, producing a head of short strawberry blonde curls, her sixth attempt at a hairstyle in so many minutes.

Ginny and Hermione, quite unhelpfully, sat sniggering on the bed.

"What is so bloody funny?" snapped Tonks, momentarily pulling her attention away from the full-length mirror in front of her.

"Nothing," gasped Hermione, before instantly bursting into a renewed round of laughter.

"Is it the color?" asked Tonks in a slightly nervous voice. "Yes, I guess it does look a bit... plain," she added, returning her full attention to the mirror.

Instantly, the curls turned a bright, some might say violent, shade of purple, earning a reproachful "tsk" from the mirror itself.

"That's better, I think," she stated tentatively.

"Oh, yes, you must go with that one," breathed Ginny, who looked at Hermione and began laughing harder than ever.

Finally satisfied with her hair and seemingly oblivious to the mirth of her companions, Tonks asked, "What do you think of the outfit?"

"I like the one Ginny picked out," replied Hermione in the most even tone she could manage.

"Really?" answered Tonks, sounding, if it was in fact possible, slightly scandalized.

"Oh yes," seconded Ginny. "I imagine it looks absolutely gorgeous on you."

"Hmmm," was all the response Tonks offered. With a dramatic sigh, she then stepped into the adjacent bathroom to try on the outfit in question.

Upon her return, she headed straight to the mirror ("Merciful heavens!" it replied) and frowned. The sleeveless magenta sheath dress showed way too much cleavage and the side slits were most definitely an inch higher than common decency would allow.

It was, after all, her absolute favorite dress.

"No, I just don't think this will do," declared Tonks.

"Why not?" asked Ginny, winking at Hermione. "I think your date will go mad for it."

"IT IS NOT A DATE!" screamed Tonks so loudly that even the mirror shrieked. "That's it! I am putting my jeans back on!"

"No, Tonks, don't," said Hermione in a soothing voice, giving the youngest Weasley a reproving look. "Ginny was just teasing. You look absolutely lovely."

"I don't know," answered Tonks, scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror yet again. "Since this isn't a date," Tonks added, aiming a quick glare at Ginny, "I think this might be bit too... dressy."

"Not at all," replied Hermione seriously. "This is the first time you have had the opportunity to enjoy yourself in a long time. With all the...stuff...going on these days, don't you think you deserve to go all out just for one night? For your own mental well-being, of course."

"Yeah," added Ginny with a grin. "What she said."

"Well, maybe," answered Tonks, still sounding unconvinced.

"Look, you should go check our closet for a pair of shoes. My mum, for some daft reason, bought me a pair of 'interesting' sandals that you would probably love," answered Hermione, pushing Tonks out the door.

After the Auror was out of earshot, Hermione turned a scowl to Ginny and asked, "What do you think you were doing?"

"What?" answered Ginny defensively.

"You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, Ginny," said Hermione sagely.

This was greeted with a blank expression and a questioning "Huh?" that strongly reminded Hermione of a certain other member of the Weasley clan.

Exasperated, Hermione answered, "We will never get this plan to work if you and your brother insist on teasing them. We have to lure them into admitting how they feel slowly or they will just continue to deny it."

"Whatever," responded Ginny flatly with the sole purpose of being difficult.

Elsewhere at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, another member of the Order stared fixedly at his appearance in the mirror.

"Why exactly did I let her talk me into this again?" he asked himself, examining with a frown the pale complexion and dark circles that betrayed his transformation of a few nights earlier.

"Because she's hot," answered a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like James Potter.

Remus blushed furiously at the thought, causing the mirror to exclaim, "That's it! You need a bit of color!"

Choosing to ignore both the mirror and the inappropriate voice, Remus cast around for another explanation for his current predicament.

The memory of the fateful evening, just five days earlier, came to him. He had been minding his own business, enjoying a rare bit of solitude in the Weasley-filled house, when it happened. Or, more accurately, she happened.

"You're boring," announced Tonks, flouncing upon the opposite end of the drawing room couch from Remus, who was, unsurprisingly, engrossed in a particularly sizeable book.

"You're clumsy," answered Remus, earning himself a rather forceful punch in the arm.

"What?" Remus asked defensively. "I thought we were having a round of 'State the Obvious.'"

"Cute," replied Tonks wryly.

"I do try," countered Remus, smiling. "If this isn't a game, might I inquire as to why you insist on picking on me?"

"I'm not picking on you," Tonks answered. "I was just..."

"Stating the obvious?" supplied Remus helpfully.

"Oi, shut it," commanded Tonks. "You know, I truly think I am going to go barking mad if I have to sit around this dreadful place for one more night."

"Are you sure you are using the correct tense of that particular verb?" inquired Remus cleverly.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut it?" replied Tonks, giving him a haughty stare she had recently picked up from the young Miss Granger.

"Yes, mum," he replied cheekily.

"Anyway," Tonks continued loudly, ignoring his last comment, "what exactly is it that you do for fun when you aren't shut up in this place?"

Remus simply looked at her quietly, trying miserably to suppress a grin.

"Hullo?" she said, waving her hand in front of his face.

Still nothing.

"Don't make me punch you again, Remus J. Lupin," warned Tonks.

"If you recall, you were the one who told me to shut it," reminded Remus. "Twice, in fact."

"Gods, you are even more infuriating than Sirius!" she exclaimed.

Tonks' hand immediately flew to her face, accompanying a horrified expression that indicated instant regret for her words.

"It's OK, Tonks," said Remus soothingly, though with a distinct tightness to his voice. He reached over and took the hand covering Tonks' mouth in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I take that as the highest of compliments, although I imagine that he might have had something to say about it," he added with a genuine smile.

"He was the only thing that made this vile place tolerable," Tonks said quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Before she did this, Remus noted to his immense displeasure that the remarkable light that normally shone in Tonks' eyes was missing. Unsure why this bothered him so much, he silently committed himself to bringing it back.

"He would want us to try a bit harder to make the best of the situation here, don't you think?" he asked gently.

"I know you are right, Remus. I'm just not sure how to do it," answered Tonks, with a seriousness in her voice that bothered him almost as much as the dullness of her eyes.

"Perhaps we should attempt to work on it together," he said, realizing with a jolt that he still held her hand. He gave it the tiniest of squeezes before releasing it.

At this, Tonks' head popped up and she flashed the most incredible smile he could recall ever witnessing. It was almost as if someone had struck a flint inside her eyes, causing her entire expression to illuminate from within. He himself felt a flame rising in the pit of his stomach at the thought of having inspired such a reaction.

"Do you really mean it, Remus?" she asked excitedly. Remus could almost see the wheels of the young Auror's mind kick into gear, and as quickly as it had come, the fire of excitement changed to a cold wave of nervousness at what she might possibly be planning.

Before he could answer, Tonks jumped to her feet, began pacing, and said, "Oh yes, we'll trade off turns deciding...I'll go first, of course, to properly set the precedent... Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

"Pardon?" asked Remus mildly, unsure as to how he had lost track of the conversation.

Oblivious to his confusion, Tonks continued on with her excited rambling. "How about Friday night? We both have off patrol that night, right?"

"Yes, we do, but I don't believe I will commit to anything until you let me in on the plan," replied Remus mildly. "What exactly is it that we are meant to be doing?"

Tonks stopped pacing and looked over to him as if she had only just remembered he was in the room. He saw the light in her eyes flicker and he knew at once that whatever it was she was about to suggest, he would have to do it.

"Adventures, silly," Tonks replied, as if these two words provided an exhaustive explanation for what she had in mind.

"What sort of adventures are we talking, Tonks?" Remus pressed, hoping to coax some level of detail as to what he might be facing.

"All sorts!" she replied with a stern look, indicating her belief that he was being purposefully obtuse.

"OK," answered Remus, attempting to assemble the pieces of information she had given. "We are going on adventures, starting Friday night, and you will be planning the first one. Do I get any say in this at all?"

"Not until it is your turn," she replied with a derisive snort.

With this, she hopped back over to the couch, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and skipped out of the room.

All he could do was laugh. He absolutely refused to allow his mind to produce any terrifying scenarios of what Tonks might make him do OR to consider the possible implications of the kiss she had just bestowed.

Just as he managed to reopen his neglected book, Tonks' head popped back into the doorway in front of him. The head grinned and said, "You do realize that my complete control for the evening extends to your wardrobe, don't you?"

Before he could object, she was gone again.

Remus hadn't really given much thought to this seemingly random parting shot. She was more than welcome, he felt, to search his assortment of garments. He was well aware of the contents of his closet and quite confident that she would not find anything potentially embarrassing to force him to wear.

If he were being completely honest with himself, he would have to admit a small twinge of shame at the prospect of Tonks, always clad in the most up-to-date version of what she seemed to consider fashion, sorting through his decidedly shabby selection of clothing.

Fortunately for Remus, he was particularly well practiced at not being honest with himself as far as Tonks was concerned. Thus, it had not been until this very morning, when a day-glow orange box tied with fluorescent green and yellow ribbons mysteriously appeared on his bed, that panic truly set in.

Downstairs in the front parlor, Ron and Harry were kneeling on opposite sides of one of the priceless Black family heirlooms, an antique coffee table, upon which they were engaged in a high stakes game of Exploding Snap.

"Do you reckon that Ginny and Hermione are right and that Tonks and Lupin....you know...like each other?" asked Ron curiously.

"Well, we all heard them in the drawing room the other night. It sure sounded like it to me," answered Harry, chucking a card just in the nick of time.

"But, how can we be sure?" Ron pressed. "Maybe they are just really good friends."

"Ron, that kind of bickering always means something more than friendship," answered Harry pointedly.

Ron fell silent for a moment. "Do you really think so?" he asked finally, with such earnestness that Harry suspected his friend was no longer thinking about the Auror and their former professor.

"Yes, I do," answered Harry simply. He decided to let his friend off the hook and steer the conversation back to the original topic. "Look, when they come down here, you have to do what Hermione said."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No teasing," answered Ron in a very put out sort of voice.

Tonks stood frozen in horror at the threshold of the closet that Hermione and Ginny shared. Of all the terrible things she had seen lurking around Number 12, Grimmauld Place, what appeared before her at that moment was BY FAR the most disturbing.

The clothes. They were...on hangers. All of them. On both sides of the closet.

And, they were...organized! Robes first, then dresses, skirts, trousers, and shirts. The shirts were even separated between blouses and jumpers.

Then, there were the shoes. Dear Merlin, the shoes! Properly paired, they sat in a row along the bottom of the hanging garments. Like a legion of eager soldiers, they all faced heel out, just waiting to be slipped on. What was worse, they were sorted and ordered by color. Beige, black, brown, and white.

"Wait a minute," Tonks thought. "Beige, black, brown, and white.... Oh for the love of Merlin, she bloody ALPHABETIZED them too!"

Unable to stomach any more, Tonks backed slowly away from the stepford closet, reluctant to turn her back to it.

Regrettably, in doing so she failed to note the trunk sitting at the foot of Ginny's bed, positioned quite inconveniently between herself and the bedroom door.

"Lovely," said Tonks dryly, once again finding herself parallel to the ceiling. "This can't be a good sign."

"Neither is talking to yourself," reminded Ginny happily as she and Hermione appeared from the hall. She offered a hand and helped Tonks regain perpendicularity.

"What's taking you so long, Tonks?" asked Hermione concernedly. "Were you able to find the shoes alright?"

"Hermione, a blind troll could find the shoes in that closest," answered Tonks with a shudder.

Ginny sniggered, while Hermione produced a huffy sort of snort.

"Look," said Tonks, still eying the closet warily. "I have the most perfect pair of boots in my closet."

She grabbed the two teens by the forearms and rushed them back to where they had all begun.

This time it was Hermione's turn to gasp in terror.

Tonks' closet was what some, mostly males, might classify as "disorganized." If anyone had bothered to consult the elder of the two girls present for her opinion, she would have likened standing within the closet to an unfortunate encounter she had with Devil's Snare during her first year at Hogwarts.

"Hey, Tonks!" called Ginny from the relative safety of the bedroom proper. "Where did you get those adorable knickers?"

Confused, Tonks turned back to face her and asked, "Which knickers?"

"The ones you are wearing," answered Ginny with glee, earning a solid smack on the arm from Hermione.

"Huh?" replied Tonks, looking down at her dress. Apparently, her urgent searching had caused the side slits of her dress to shifted, revealing much more than enough of her favorite pair of red lace underwear.

"THAT'S IT!" the Auror roared. "I'M NOT GOING!"

She stomped from the closet to her as of yet unmade bed and pulled the covers forcefully over her head.

"Honestly, Tonks!" exclaimed Hermione in a voice generally reserved for her two best friends during their all too frequent bouts of rule-breaking. She yanked the covers and pulled the moping Tonks to her feet.

"Ginny!" Hermione barked. "You go in there and find the boots," she directed, indicating her opinion that this was a more than fitting punishment for the younger girl's misbehavior.

"Now, Tonks," she continued, adopting a more dulcet tone, "tell me why it was that you wanted to go on this outing in the first place."

Tonks thought for a minute. Then...

"Well, I just thought that Remus needed some cheering up and I just can't stand it in this place because it is so dreary and it all reminds me of Sirius and we both miss him so much that I thought we could do something together and just forget about all the horrible things for just a little bit, you know, and do something fun and silly for a change," Tonks replied in a single breath.

"And has any of that changed?" asked Hermione sympathetically.

"No," answered Tonks reluctantly, clearly not wanting to give in so easily.

"Tonks, you look absolutely perfect. You and Professor Lupin are going to have a great time," assured Hermione. "Why don't you run to the bathroom and get yourself finished up?"

When Tonks hesitated, Hermione added, "Just forget about Ginny. She is worse than all her brother's put together."

This earned a muffled, indignant "HEY!" from the closet, causing Tonks to smile and give Hermione a quick hug of gratitude before she rushed to the loo.

____________________________________________________________________________

For about twenty minutes after discovering what he now referred to as the O.B.O.D. ("orange box of doom"), Remus had paced a semi-circle around his bed. Reflecting back on it, he realized that he was subconsciously maintaining what he believed to be an appropriately safe distance from said O.B.O.D.

Summoning all his courage, he had slowly approached the box, noticing for the first time a card attached to its top. The envelope was addressed in an illegible scrawl that he could only assume was intended to read "Remus."

Hoping that nothing worrisome or embarrassing could be hiding within the envelope, he picked it up and removed the card. After four attempts, Remus was fairly confident that he had deciphered its message.

Remus,

You were right. He would have wanted us to make the best of things.

See you tonight!

Tonks

The sincerity of Tonks' words aroused three distinct and powerful emotions within the werewolf in rapid succession.

The first was an inexplicable warmth that radiated throughout his entire body. This took him quite by surprise, as he had become accustomed to a near-complete numbness during the years of solitude between the loss of Lily and the Marauders and his all too brief reunion with Sirius. It had returned to him full-force after the unthinkable events at the Department of Mysteries.

His mind's efforts to suppress the significance of this feeling allowed him to experience the second: excitement. In that moment, he knew that regardless of what lurked inside the O.B.O.D., he was very much looking forward to the evening's activities, whatever they may be.

Finally, he suffered a groundswell of guilt for mistrusting his young friend and worrying so much about the contents of the O.B.O.D.

"This is ridiculous," he told himself. "Just open the box and get on with your day."

Fully prepared to follow these instructions, Remus lifted the O.B.O.D. from the bed and begun tugging at the ribbons. However, before successfully untying the fluorescent bow, a very vivid and disturbing image popped into his head.

Tonks stood in her trademark bubble-gum pink hair, wearing an astoundingly short skirt made of a very stretchy black material. With it, she paired an entirely too small tube-top in a shade reminiscent of the O.B.O.D.

While this part of the vision was not wholly unpleasant, the rest was downright wrong. He saw himself standing next to Tonks in a pair of red leather trousers that he doubted could possibly allow for sufficient oxygen intake. In addition, he wore a black mesh t-shirt that he felt really ought to be outlawed for the sake of all that was good and decent in the world.

Feeling his hands begin to shake, Remus decided that opening the O.B.O.D. would first require sufficient fortification in the form of a strong cup of tea and a hearty breakfast.

That had been nine hours ago and the excuses for avoiding his bedroom and the O.B.O.D. had grown easier to come by as the day progressed. First, he noticed Ron looking slightly bored (or was that just tired?). Being the only real worthy competition in the house, he offered to play a few games of Wizard's chess with the youngest Weasley male.

When Hermione finally dragged his opponent away to work on summer assignments, Remus wandered into the kitchen to help Molly with lunch preparations.

After an unnecessarily long lunch, he had patrol work to do for the Order, which kept him mercifully away from headquarters for the bulk of the afternoon. Upon his return, he ran into, or, more accurately, sought out Harry and began an in-depth discussion of some suggestions he had for the next year's meetings of Dumbledore's Army.

Now, a half hour before he was supposed to meet Tonks in the entrance hall, he could no longer avoid what he had so rightfully been avoiding. Bracing himself, he picked up the O.B.O.D. and yanked the ribbon off in one swift motion.

Slowly, he lifted the lid and felt an immediate wave of relief sweep over him.

Then, a tiny mirthful voice in his head, most likely in league with the one the sounded like James, asked, "What are you so relieved about, mate? IT'S PINK!"

This fact had not registered to Remus when he opened the O.B.O.D. to find nothing more terrifying than a simple button-up shirt and tie.

However, now that his brain had regained the ability to process what he was seeing, Remus realized that what the voice said was true and that the bright pink shirt was coupled with a truly garish purple and green paisley tie.

Sighing audibly, he lifted the shirt and tie from the box, only to discover a second hastily written note folded within.

Suck it up, buttercup! This will look tremendous with those khaki trousers I found in your closet.

Tonks

P.S. IT IS NOT PINK! It's salmon.

This caused Remus to laugh in spite of himself. Quickly deciding that challenging Tonks would be more trouble that it was worth, he resignedly got dressed.

After a necessarily brief last look to the mirror ("What is it with the people in this house?"), Remus decided to wait the remaining 15 minutes in the downstairs parlor.

As he began to descend the stairs, Remus felt the full weight of his nervousness sink to the bottom of his stomach. More disturbing, he was unable to decide if he felt more like an Azkaban inmate making his way towards the Kiss or an anxious groom on his way down the aisle to await the arrival of his radiant bride.

His reverie was shattered completely the second he crossed the threshold into the parlor by the sound of two 16-year olds bursting into riotous gales of laughter.

After remembering the very obvious source of their merriment, Remus flushed slightly, but otherwise managed to calmly navigate his way to a chair across from Harry and Ron.

He waited for the laughter to diminish before asking, "Are you quite finished?"

"But....PINK!" was all Ron could manage before sending himself and Harry into renewed fits of laughter.

"It isn't pink, Ron. It's salmon," corrected Remus with a forced smile. He looked to the clock on the opposite wall and silently prayed for Tonks to be punctual for just once in her life.

When they finally gained control of themselves, Harry asked, "What are you two going to do tonight?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Harry," answered Remus.

"You are a brave man," said Ron with a grin. "You must have it bad to let her pick your outfit AND go along with Tonks' idea of date!"

Harry channeled Hermione for a moment and shot Ron a deadly glare.

"It isn't a date, Ron," answered Remus mildly. "Nymphadora and I are colleagues and friends, that's all."

"Then why in the name of Merlin would you wear that tie?" Ron asked amusedly.

"Have you ever attempted to dissuade a women from something she has set her mind to?" countered Remus.

When Ron mumbled an incomprehensible reply, Remus continued.

"Give it a try with Hermione or your sister and let me know how that goes for you," he suggested with a grin.

The room fell silent as they each pictured different wrathful female scenarios. Then, the silence was broken.

"Hem, hem."

Ron and Harry jumped in panic, reaching for their wands, while Remus turned curiously towards the doorway and the perpetrator of the interruption.

"GINNY!" screamed Ron. "You have to STOP DOING THAT!"

Harry, for his part, exchanged broad grins with the redheaded girl, as Remus had noted they were becoming increasingly wont to do.

"She's ready," announced Hermione, who stood just behind Ginny in the doorway. The older girl seemed to Remus to be frenetic with nervous energy.

"Great shirt, Professor," commented Ginny with a smirk.

"Thank you, Ginny," replied Remus seriously, following the teenagers into the front foyer.

As soon as he passed through the doorway, his eyes darted to the stairs in search of Tonks.

A minute passed without the arrival of his companion for the evening.

Seemingly bursting with excitement, Hermione stomped up half of the first flight of stairs and called, "Tonks! Hurry up, he's waiting!"

Unfortunately, the normally detail-oriented young prefect had forgotten one of the cardinal rules of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

The curtains surrounding the portrait of the late Mrs. Black burst open, followed by a very unfortunate string of insults hurled randomly at the congregation in the foyer.

__________________________________________________________________________

"Just breathe," Tonks told herself as she stood at the edge of the second floor landing. "After all, it's just Remus."

Rather than the calming effect that she had intended, the thought of her evening's companion only heightened her nervousness.

She attempted to take a step down, but somehow she had even less than her usual amount of control over her movement.

The sound of Hermione's voice from below shocked her into motion, not for the content of her message, but because of the easily anticipated response from Mrs. Black.

When the portrait caught sight of Tonks, it concentrated its venomous attacks in her direction.

"And here comes the Mudblood disgrace, tarted up like a common whore! Unsurprising given its common parentage!"

The words struck Tonks like a curse to abdomen. Rage spread through her body and she lunged at the hateful painting.

"Don't you EVER mention my parents again, you miserable harpy!" shouted Tonks while violently striking the canvas with her fists.

Her blows were arrested only by the intervention of Remus, who had flown up the stairs, grabbed her in his arms, and whispered, "It's ok, Nymphadora," soothingly into her ear.

Together, they performed the necessary stunning spell and pulled the curtains closed.

Still shaking in anger and hearing Mrs. Black's words ringing in her ears, Tonks allowed Remus to guide her down the rest of the stairs. When they reached the foyer, she looked up to find Harry grinning at her stupidly next to Ron, whose eyes were wide and jaw was slack.

She turned her eyes next to Ginny and Hermione, whose expressions reflected amusement and sympathy respectively.

"Close your mouth, Ron," instructed Ginny with a giggle.

When Ron failed to comply, Hermione huffed and asked, "What it is, Ron? Did you finally spot that Tonks is a girl, too?"

This got his attention and he turned an icy glare to Hermione. Harry and Ginny shared a laugh and a smile.

"Tonks," Remus whispered in her ear, pulling her attention away from the melodrama in front of her, "you look stunning."

She immediately whipped around to face him, using all her concentration to control the threatening blush. When she saw him, a wide grin broke out on her face.

"My compliments to your stylist, Mr. Lupin," said Tonks cheekily.

"I will be sure to pass them along," replied Remus with a grin. "She certainly means well," he continued, "but I suspect that she is a touch colorblind."

Tonks responded by pulling her tongue out at him.

"I think we should get going," she announced to the room, grabbing Remus' arm and dragging him to the front door.

"Have fun!" said Hermione with a knowing grin. Tonks rolled her eyes and pulled the open the front door.

The moment Remus and Tonks stepped out onto the front landing, Ron and Ginny gave each other a meaningful look, raised their hands in a salute, and said in unison, "Enjoy your date!"

The door slammed shut just as the two adults looked back and yelled, "It is not a date!"