Work Text:
Before she was born, her mother spent a long time looking through lists of ancient Greek and Roman mythological names. “I’m not naming her after any of my relatives,” Andromeda explained to Ted, “but I like the tradition. It’s not just stars - Narcissa was named after Narcissus.”
Ted shrugged and went along with it. The list of possible names was very long, even after they crossed off the names that showed up on the Black family tree. They could find something good there. Andromeda had given up a lot when she left her family; he wanted to give her what traditions he could.
For a boy, they chose the name Hesperus. For a girl, Andromeda came up with a new name, Nymphadora. And so, when she was born, Nymphadora is what the baby was called.
-----
When she turned two, they had a very quiet birthday celebration with her parents and paternal grandparents. It wasn’t safe to do more, not in the middle of the war when she was the daughter of the Black who married a muggleborn. Andromeda and Ted had both been doing their healer’s apprenticeships under fake names and glamours, and they’d talked more than once about moving to America until things were better. But how would things get better if people didn’t make them better?
So they stayed, and she spent a lot of time being babysit by her grandparents in a heavily warded house. On her birthday, they blew up balloons and her grandma made a chocolate cake, with ‘Happy Birthday Dora’ written on the top in white icing.
“Mum,” Ted said with a sigh when he saw it. “You know Andy doesn’t like it when you shorten Nymphadora’s name.”
“Nonsense,” Jenny replied, carefully placing two candles on top. “Nyphadora’s much too big a name for such a little girl. Let her grow into it first.”
------
When she was five, her mum brought her to Ottery St Catchpole to play with the Weasley boys. Bill was a bit older, and Percy was really too young for a lot of games still, but Charlie was just her age. She thought their orangey-red hair was great, and her own started to change to match. Charlie’s eyes went wide, and he tugged on Mrs Weasley’s skirt. “Mum, who’s that?” he whispered loudly.
“This is Nymphadora,” Mrs Weasley told him. “She’s come over to play with you all. How about you show her the garden?”
Charlie nodded enthusiastically, and grabbed her hand to tug her out the door. “C’mon!” he told her. “Bill! Bill, look at Nifda - Nimma - look at Nym’s hair!”
-----
When she was eleven, it got really, really obvious how many people knew (or knew of) her mother. "Oh of course," they said when they heard her name. "You're Andromeda Black's daughter."
"It's Tonks," she always corrected them, sometimes with a scowl, sometimes just plain weary. "Andromeda Tonks . Nymphadora Tonks ." She was proud of her dad, and proud of her mum choosing her dad instead of her stupid family, and she wasn't going to let anyone get away with calling her a Black.
Eventually, she said it enough times that people started saying "the Tonks kid" instead. They usually didn't remember her first name, but she didn't care. They remembered she was a Tonks.
-----
She went on her first date when she was fifteen, with one of the boys from the Ravenclaw quidditch team. They had Care of Magical Creatures together, and one day, after class, he asked her, "To- I mean, uh, Nymphadora? Would you like to - to go to Hogsmeade this weekend? With me, I mean?"
"Dear Merlin, just call me Tonks," she replied. "Nymphadora makes me sound like someone who wears pink dresses and lace."
"Right, sorry," John said, making a face. "Um. Is that a...no?"
She flushed. "No! I mean, yes. I mean, no that's not a no, yes I'd like to go with you!" She covered her face with her hands, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Let's go to Hogsmeade."
-----
She stayed at home after she graduated: it was convenient, already floo-connected, cheap, and she did actually like her parents. The one thing she didn’t like was how they constantly called her Nymphadora. It wasn’t a totally awful name, she supposed, but that didn’t mean she wanted it to be her name. She liked being called Tonks. She was used to it. It suited her. But every time one of her friends came over and called her Tonks, her mum would double down and call her Nymphadora twice as often. It was infuriating.
And then one night, her dad said, “Can you clear the table, Nymphadora?” and she just couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Stop CALLING me that!” she yelled, her hair flaring bright red, and stomped up to her room.
She slammed the door behind her, dropped down on the bed, and immediately commenced feeling like an idiot for making such a big deal about being called her actual, legal name.
She was still wallowing ten minutes later when her dad knocked on the door and called out quietly, “Can I come in, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled into her pillow. Sure. He was probably coming to tell her not to be so rude. Or that she shouldn’t make such a fuss about the name her mum picked for her.
Ted let himself in and sat down on the edge of her bed, looking at her with a rueful smile. “That bad, huh?” he murmured. “Sweetheart - Tonks - I owe you an apology.”
She rolled over and stared at him, bewildered. “...what?”
“My legal first name is Christopher,” he revealed quietly. “Christopher Edward Tonks. I was about six when I decided I hated my first name, and spent the next two years insisting everyone call me Edward instead. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you said the same thing to me.”
She stared harder, her mind racing. “You...you just changed it? And everyone… You and Mum never call me Tonks!”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s a little more awkward going by your surname in a room full of people with the same one,” he pointed out. “But we should have realised this was more than just a nickname for you. Choosing your name was something special for us, something Andy in particular put a lot of thought into, but it’s your name. If it doesn’t fit you, you don’t have to keep it, any more than you have to keep shoes that don’t fit just because they were a gift.”
She searched his face, then launched into a hug, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. “You couldn’t have told me that a year ago?” she asked, but she was too grateful for it to have much bite. “Does that mean you’ll call me Tonks now?”
“I will,” he promised, hugging her back and rubbing her back gently. “I’m sorry it took me this long to talk to you about it. I’ll make sure Andy works on it too.”
“It wasn’t that bad until I was home all the time,” she admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Everyone’s been calling me Tonks at school for years.” Yeah, over the summers her parents called her Nymphadora, but summers ended. It wasn’t that annoying in small doses.
“I’m sorry,” Ted said again. “You can pick a new first name too, if you want. I recommend it, actually - calling you Tonks might get a bit confusing when we go visit Grandma and Grandpa.” He pulled back, looking at her seriously. “But if you decide not to, we’ll all respect it.”
A few weeks later, she got a letter from her grandparents, and for the first time in a very long time, the name on the envelope felt like hers.