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Age 9
For as long as she could remember, Nymphadora wanted a love like her parents. They’d always seemed so well matched. Her mother’s calm sophistication combined with her father’s exuberance. On paper it shouldn’t have worked, she knew that – even they knew that – and yet, they were happy.
‘It’s a little bit of luck and a lot of hard work.’ Mum said to her, when she asked how two such different people had ever first caught each other’s eye.
‘And a little bit of a push from Amortentia.’ Her father added merrily from across the dinner table.
‘What’s Amortentia?’ She enquired, leaning forward slightly and accidentally knocking her fork off the edge of the table with her elbow.
‘Oh Nymphie…’ Mum sighed at her. ‘Try to always put things down away from the edge, that way you’ll knock them off less often.’
She reappeared from picking up her fork, slightly pink in the face from ducking to reach it. ‘That’s a good idea mum! I’ll try it. What’s Amortentia?’
‘A very dangerous potion.’ Clearly her mother had hoped knocking the fork off would distract her from the question.
‘How could a very dangerous potion have helped you and dad fall in love?’
‘I... Ted?’ As usual when mum was feeling flustered, she turned to dad to help vocalise her feelings.
‘Well Dora, Amortentia is a love potion.’
She gasped. ‘You used a love potion on each other?!’
‘No, no!’ He chortled. ‘Nothing like that. We’d always gotten on, by chance we shared a lot of classes and ended up in lots of group projects together, so she had time with me when no one else was around. We knew we liked each other. But with your mother’s family, well you know the stories. We wanted to make that commitment, but what if we were wrong? And then, in our 6th year we had a lesson on Amortentia. Slughorn brewed an example for us. And I could smell your mother’s homebrewed perfume.’
‘And I could smell sawdust,’ Her mum chimed in. ‘Just like in your dad’s woodcraft shed. He always had bits of wood shavings in his hair, you couldn’t miss it for the world.’
‘And then, we just knew.’ He shrugged and stared lovingly across the table at his wife. It would be romantic, Dora thought, if they weren’t her parents.
‘I’ll have to wait until my 6th year of Hogwarts to know who I’m in love with? But that’s ages away!’
‘You can fall in love before that point Nymphie. Not everyone smells their partner in Amortentia, that doesn’t mean you’re any less in love or that your relationship won’t work.’
‘But if they are, then I’ll know?’
‘If they are. Then that’s a very good sign. But it’ll still take a lot of work.’ Dad nodded sagely. He then reached for drink, caught the side of his knife with his sleeve, and sent his cutlery clattering to the floor.
‘Oh Ted!’
Age 16
Today was the day. Love Day.
It was with Snape teaching them, which was less than ideal. But she’d get the hint about her future she’d been dreaming about since she was 9.
She wondered if she’d smell Charlie Weasley’s home-darned jumpers. They’d always gotten on, she really liked him, perhaps this would be a sign for their future.
Part of her knew this was a pipe dream. The Gryffindors had already had this lesson, Charlie had waxed lyrical about being able to smell his mum’s home cooking, dragon fire-sulphur, and the bundles at the end of broomsticks. She didn’t see how any of those could feasibly link back to her. His brother Bill could apparently sea foam, pain-au-chocolate, and a specific sort of wood smoke his parents used at Christmas. There just seemed like so many options.
Snape lurked at the back of the dungeon, as usual, glaring at the students as they entered.
‘I suppose you’re all giddy with anticipation.’ He sneered at them. ‘You think this will tell you something about ‘true love’.’
His dark eyes swept the room. Even the Slytherins in the class, who usually weren’t as phased by his foulness, seemed to cow a little under his stare.
‘If true love exists. Which. I. Doubt. Then I find it very unlikely anyone in this unremarkable group will find it. Now, start chopping Ariss roots. I’ve got to let you smell the stupid potion but you’d better not think I’m going to give an easy lesson just for that.’
They all settled into to working on making small batches of the potion. Even if they failed the ministry mandated that people know what the potion smelled like, in theory so they’d be able to notice it if anyone handed them a spiked item. Tonks was sceptical of this idea; she’d read enough horror stories about the potion to know the best bet for reducing rates of use was to limit the supplies and to catch those who brewed it. She’d written an essay on it in 4th year when Slughorn had still been potion’s master, he’d loved it so much he’d suggested she become an Auror.
Finally, the lesson drew to a close. Snape seemed to be calling small groups towards the front of the room, presumably so he could mock them individually for their reactions. Dick.
‘Quiddington, Ruskin, Symons, Sutcliffe and Tonks.’
She could feel the speed of her heartbeat increasing. This was it.
They stood forward one by one and took a gentle smell of the pearl-sheened potion. Some looked giddy, others pleasantly surprised. Symons looked positively thrilled.
‘Wipe that look off your face. Miss Fletcher doesn’t smell of anything but curry.’ Snape growled. Racist dick.
Tonks stepped forward, leaned over the cauldron, and inhaled deeply through her nose.
The plants in the Hufflepuff common room. No surprises there.
Fish and Chips. Just like the ones she used to get with her parents when they went on walks down to the docks in the East End of London.
And… Bitter, but not wholly unpleasant. She didn’t know the last smell. She’d certainly never smelled it before.
She frowned.
‘What is it Nymphadora?’ Snape asked, condescension oozing from his voice.
‘Umm… Is it possible for Amortentia to smell like something unfamiliar to you?’
‘It’s unusual but not unheard of. Although in your case perhaps it simply smells of one of the last things your uncoordinated movements knocked over?’
‘What do you smell, sir?’ She sniped back. This was a trait that got her into trouble, as the frequent letters from her mother reminded her.
A flicker of what could have been pain went across his face. It was soon masked by rage.
’10 points from Hufflepuff for that incredibly rude question. You were the last group. You can all get out now.’
Everyone shuffled with their bags and belongings until Snape barked at them again.
‘I said OUT!’
And they rushed away from the potions dungeon. Once out of the cold depths of the castle Snape became his usual figure of ridicule.
Tonks shifted her form to resemble him, greasy dark hair and all.
‘You see class, I can smell many things in Amortentia because of my abnormally large nose!’
She and her fellow Hufflepuffs fell into peels of laughter. It wasn’t until much later that she went back to wondering about the unknown scent in her love potion. Hopefully one day she’d find out.
Age 22
She’d been paired, yet again, with Remus Lupin.
It was becoming a bit of a struggle, if she was honest. To begin with she’d found him a bit prickly. He seemed to be angry at the world, bitter even.
Now she’d gotten to know him… he was just so nice. Quiet whilst still being Witty. Witty whilst still being gentle. Gentle whilst still being strong. Strong, but in a quiet way. She could feel herself being pulled towards him, even though he closed himself off a lot.
She wasn’t sure why yet, he seemed to get on with her fine. But as soon as he started getting close to opening up to her it was like something inside him locked up. He wasn’t wholly unpleasant, but he wasn’t exactly charming either.
She was sure she was falling in love with him. And she thought he seemed to feel the same. But he seemed to resist the idea as though it pained him. She constantly switched between feeling hurt at his, apparent, rejection and furious about it. Who was he to deny his feelings for her? Why was she suddenly so undesirable?
Most of the time she managed to push it down, she didn’t want to snap at him.
They were on a surveillance mission, a long one. They’d taken to chatting about everything and nothing to pass the time. Well she chatted away, he listened. Adding occasional quips that made her snort with laughter.
‘Anyway,’ she continued on their topic of ‘premature aging’ – she couldn’t tell you how they’d gotten on to it. ‘I’m just saying that Sirius is pretty handsome still, despite all his time in Azkaban.’
She could see him stiffen out of the corner of her eye.
‘Yeah, people always think that. He was always a ladies man. Not that I mind – minded, I mean – I never really properly liked anyone bef– ’ He cut himself off. So close. ‘I suppose you find yourself quite in love with him.’ He added, bitterly.
She frowned, that anger bubbling up to the surface.
‘Of course I don’t. For Merlin’s sake Remus, for starters I think we both know exactly who I’m in love with if you’d stop feeling so sorry for yourself you’d see it clear as day. And he’s my bloody cousin! I may be of Black blood but that doesn’t mean I’m into that stuff.’ She snapped.
He stared at her, mouth slightly open.
‘I…? you love...? No. I have no idea who you love in the Order. Care to tell me?’ There he went. Closed off, cold, Remus.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake. Why pretend?’ She snapped.
‘You can’t love the person you think you do. You have to love someone else.’ His voice was hollow, almost far away.
‘I can’t? Well, that’s something I don’t hear every day. I don’t understand you at all sometimes.’ She huffed and they spent the remaining 3 hours of their watch in silence. It was uncomfortable and part of her wanted to just burst into tears. But she refused. Not over this. At least, not in front of him.
***
A few months later she learned from Molly Weasley that Remus was a werewolf. She suddenly had more insight into why he was so reluctant to get to know people, to let them into his inner circle where that sort of secret would become known.
She understood. How many years of societal rejection and disdain must he have endured for it? Something he couldn’t even control. It must be difficult for him to open up to anyone about it, in case he found that the person he thought he could trust suddenly hated him.
She understood.
She loved him all the more.
Age 24
They hadn’t really discussed it. She’d mentioned, when she’d found out about his condition, that she didn’t care.
First, she’d made it clear she still wanted to work with him, go on missions with him. Be alone with him. She still trusted him fully.
Second, in round about ways, she’d been very open about the fact that his condition did not stop her from loving him and wanting to be with him.
Infuriatingly this seemed to make very little difference to his response. Bloody Gryffindors and their sense of duty. Why couldn’t he just promise to be loyal to her? Hufflepuffs were much more straight forward.
When Bill was attacked and Fleur still declared her love for him, in the face of the unknown, she took her chance. Very publicly, channelling some Gryffindor energy from somewhere – she wasn’t sure where – she declared her love for him.
Finally, they were going to sit down and talk about this, like proper adults.
***
‘You need to see how my life really is, before you can properly decide that you want to be in it.’ Lupin said, his face grim and expecting rebuff.
‘Ok, show me how it is.’ Tonks repled. She was not afraid.
‘Ok, well for starters I was squatting until I joined up with the Order. It was helpful for getting in with the other werewolves, but most of the time it’s just that I couldn’t keep a job – wizarding or muggle. I’m very poor.’
She nodded a long with what he was saying. It was the standard story from werewolves, sometimes the Aurors would be called in when there were cases of petty crime. It was often a werewolf, forced to the edges of society. Some Aurors liked the easy catch, but Tonks had always wanted to try and set them up somewhere stable, to help. Moody understood. He even got them to take some of the ‘rubbish’ cases so they could be at least kinder than the others. It was never really enough though.
‘I have an income, and a house, and a loving family. You won’t need to struggle like that anymore.’ She said, reaching for his hand.
He flinched slightly. ‘I want to be able to support you. But once a month I become a monster.’
‘Once a month, so do I.’ Tonks replied, a smile quirked on her lips.
‘Ha. Ha. See you’re not taking this seriously! You understand how dangerous I am, right? I could do serious damage to you, kill you even. And that’s not even going into how much being with me will fundamentally alter how society sees you.’ He was clearly losing his patience.
‘Remus.’ She looked directly into his eyes. ‘I don’t care how society will see me. And if it’s ever getting to me, I have the fortunate talent of being able to blend into society with no issue.’
He still looked sceptical.
‘I know there’s a potion that makes you safe when you transform.’ She added.
‘Ingredients are expensive, and it’s hard to brew.’
‘What part of ‘I have a job as an Auror’ do you not get? I have the money and I had to take potions to NEWTs, and my mother is amazing at potions. We can handle this. Together.’
He gave her a bashful smile and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.
‘What’s wolfsbane even like?’ She asked, more out of a desire to keep the conversation between them going.
‘I have some in my flask here, you can smell if, if you want. It tastes worse than it smells, I promise!’ He chuckled; seemingly having decided that, for now, he was happy.
He brought out his hip flask, she recognised it had once belonged to Sirius. Popping the top off he handed it over to her, his hand still trembling slightly.
She inhaled. And gasped. She knew this smell.
Bitter, but not wholly unpleasant.