I am so damned pleased with myself. After almost a year of picking away at it on and off, I've actually managed to finish a fic!
I posted the first few bits of this one a few months back, but here it is, in what I think is its entirety - I might add to or change a bit of the ending, but I think I'm satisfied with how it worked out, for now. It didn't at all end the way I planned, but it feels right.
Anyway. Here it is.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR, and the plot owes a fair amount to "Pygmalion" by George Bernard Shaw and to "My Fair Lady," the musical/movie based on that play.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Author: Rosalindjen
Dedication and much thanks to
theladyfeylene, who not only is one of my best friends, but was to blame for this whole thing starting, when she commented something along the lines of "every now and then, especially after drinking, Snape might think it would be nice to have someone to make his tea and bring him his slippers. But it passes."
Feedback/rec/etc as you wish, but don't repost without my permission and name, please.
Title:
Accustomed to Her Face
“Come on—you know he’ll agree to it if you bet him that it won’t work! He’ll do it just out of pride.”
Remus Lupin shook his head, arms crossed firmly across his chest, sitting back in his chair. “No, Tonks. I’m not going to put you in danger like that.” Behind him, a cage of grindylows banged against the glass of their tank, as though in emphasis.
“Oh, I can handle him. Old Snape is just a pussy-cat inside, I’m sure. All that bluster is just an act,” Tonks laughed, brushing her a fringe of bubble-gum pink hair out of her eyes and took a sip of the now-tepid tea he’d given her. She’d put too much sugar in, as always, and the bottom dregs tasted almost syrupy from the excess.
“Even if that were true—which I assure you it is not, from the years I’ve known him—you know I didn’t mean Snape.” Remus shook his head. “Merlin, Tonks, can’t you just be pleased with what you’re doing? You’re the youngest Auror in years, and the Ministry gives you plenty of assignments.”
“Boring assignments. They’re coddling me and I know it. I want to be out in the thick of things, Remus. I want to do some good for the Order, and for the war! And that means being allowed to spy on the Dark Lord’s forces. Snape can get me in, and my talents make me perfect for the job, really. I can look like whatever I want, and no one will ever know that it’s really me, because I won’t look at all like myself!”
“There’s more to working undercover than disguise, Tonks.” Remus snagged a pile of exams out of harm’s way just before her tea, sloshed during her last somewhat violent statement, spilled all over them.
Tonks frowned. “I know that, Remus. I’m an Auror, remember? This is my job. I can do it—I know I can. I just can’t get them to let me!” She stood and began pacing Remus’ office, her tea abandoned on his desk.
“And I’m sure there’s a reason for that, Tonks,” Remus assured her, smiling mildly. “I wouldn’t be so upset that they want to keep you out of harm’s way, if I were you. We’ve lost enough good people in this war, already…”
“I know. That’s why I want to do this, in part. If I can infiltrate the Death Eaters, maybe I can get more information for us, and help keep people from getting killed.” Tonks threw herself back onto an overstuffed chair facing the fireplace.
“We’ve already got an insider, and if you’re caught, you might accidentally cast suspicion on Snape.” Remus pointed out.
“I’ll be careful, Remus. Really I will. You just have to convince him to take the bet—please! I want to help. I know I would be good at this. I just know it.”
“I don’t know… Tonks, it’s so dangerous.”
She scoffed, then looked up at him very seriously. “Remus, I swear, if I don’t get official help with doing this, I’ll do it on my own. I’m tired of being coddled, I’m tired of being given the easy jobs, and I’m tired of watching friends die. Please, just say you’ll talk to Snape.”
Remus looked at her for a moment, and she saw in his sad amber eyes that he was thinking of Sirius, wondering, probably not for the first time, whether maybe he might be still alive if Dumbledore had given him something to do, something to keep him from going mad from cabin-fever and determined to do something on his own. She knew she had him, then.
“All right,” he said softly. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Oh, thank you, Remus! You won’t regret it.” She leaped up and hugged him, grinning brightly. “Just remember to phrase it as a bet, and I know we’ll have him hooked. Oh, you’re the best friend a girl could have, Remus!” She laughed and hurried away, tossing off a cheerful wave as she went.
Remus looked after her, shaking his head.
~ * ~
“And you truly believe that clumsy, hyperactive girl would be a good secret agent? Lupin, I believe your condition is beginning to affect your mind. That is, perhaps, the most ludicrous suggestion I’ve heard in years.”
Remus felt almost relieved. Maybe he could just tell Tonks that Snape hadn’t taken the bet…
“If she gives up, we count it as a win for me—forfeit is failure. She’ll give up within a week,” Snape continued, a rare glint showing in his cold black eyes. “Ten galleons it is, Lupin. I’m surprised at you, really—you never struck me as the gambling sort. And you certainly don’t give any signs of having the money to spare,” he added, casting an unnecessarily cruel glance over Remus’ shabby robes.
Lupin’s jaw dropped, stunned, but before he could come up with a good response (or a way to slip back out of the bet), Snape had swept away. And, to Remus’ horror, it almost sounded as though the potions master was chuckling.
At least he could console himself with the knowledge that Tonks had promised to provide the ten galleons to pay off the debt, should she fail to succeed.
~ * ~
The next afternoon, Snape was interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Brow creased, he called for the visitor to enter, expecting one of his students. Instead, to his surprise, his room was invaded by Nymphadora Tonks.
“Ah, it’s you.” He turned back to the papers he’d been grading.
Tonks tilted her head quizzically, brushing a bit of bright green hair out of her eyes. “Remus said you agreed to teach me. So I’m here for my first lesson.”
“Fine. Sit in that chair there.” He gestured, without looking up, at a chair against the wall across the room. Tonks complied quickly, then looked up, apparently awaiting further instructions. Snape continued with his papers.
After a long moment, Tonks shifted nervously. “…And?”
“And nothing. You will sit there, silent and still, until I tell you to move. You will say nothing and do nothing. Don’t fidget.”
“How’s that supposed to help me?” Tonks demanded.
“If you can’t figure that out, then think about it while you sit. It will give your mind something to do other than waste space.”
“But—“
“Consider it your first lesson. If you figure out why I’ve assigned this task, you’ll get something to eat.”
Tonks stared at him, her blue eyes wide and shocked, but was silent. Snape shook his head, then returned to his work.
After only a few moments, the chair creaked.
“I told you not to move.”
“This chair isn’t exactly comfortable you know—“
“And I also told you not to speak. Which part of these directions are you not able to understand? Shall I write them out on the blackboard as I do with my idiot students?”
Tonks pouted, but folded her hands and kept her mouth shut.
“Well,” Snape muttered, “you might just survive your first lesson, after all.”
~ * ~
Three hours later, Snape finally stood, gathering his papers. “Very well, Miss Tonks. You have managed to meet my lowest expectations—feel free to stand.”
Moaning, Tonks got to her feet… and collapsed back into the chair, hand to her head. “Ooh, that makes me dizzy.”
“Back on your feet.”
“I said I’m dizzy, damn it! I haven’t stood in over three hours, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Snape grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the chair, setting her on her feet. “And I told you to stand. If you are to survive as a spy, you must follow my every order. Now. Tell me why I had you sit silently for three hours.”
“Because you’re a sadistic git, that’s why,” Tonks growled, rubbing her tailbone. “My bum’s asleep, you bastard.”
“Incorrect.” Snape smirked. “Tomorrow you can try again.”
“Fine. I’m going back to my room.”
“Ah.” He waited until she’d nearly reached the door. “You’re giving up, then?”
She turned back. “What do you mean?”
“If I am going to teach you, I require that you remain here, in the dungeons. All your time must be spent in an environment I control, and with which you are not familiar or comfortable. You will do as I say, every hour of your day. Every moment of your life will be under my control.”
Tonks’ eyes widened. “Bugger that! You’re not going to control my life like this!”
“I am if you’re to succeed. Please—feel free to give up. Potions supplies are quite expensive, really, and I’ve been looking at the possibility of buying a new mortar and pestle. There are some lovely new models in Diagon Alley, made of Grecian marble…”
“Fine.” Tonks glared at him. “Where am I going to sleep, then? And when do I eat?”
“Hmm, with a memory like that you’ll never survive as a spy. Don’t you recall what I told you about food? You may eat when you can explain the reasoning behind your first lesson.” He smirked. “As for where you’ll sleep, I suspect that the ground behind this desk should do admirably. I’ll be sure to request that the house elves bring you a blanket… if you succeed a bit more admirably at your tasks tomorrow, that is.”
“No food, and I sleep on the stone floor without a blanket?”
“Spying is often not a comfortable way of life, Miss Tonks. I suggest you learn that as quickly as possible.” He inclined his head. “Enjoy your night.”
Tonks waited until he’d left the room, then sprawled out on the ground. “Greasy-haired bloody buggering git,” she muttered.
~ * ~
The next morning, Tonks awoke stiff, cold, and sore from the her stone ‘bed’, and not in the least rested. Snape, unsurprisingly, was unsympathetic.
“I presume you’ve thought further about your lesson last night?”
“Of course I have. Not a lot else to do while sitting on your bloody-cold floor.”
“Then tell me.”
Tonks looked up at him, her expression pure defiance. “You were trying to break me—to wound my pride.”
“Incorrect.” Snape sneered.
“You’re lying—you’re just tellling me I’m wrong because you don’t want to let me eat, or let me feel like I’m doing this correctly.”
“You are not ‘doing this correctly,’ as you put it. And you have yet to give me the correct answer to my question.”
“Fine. Then what is it? I’ve waited enough, damn it.”
Snape smirked at her. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean that I will not give you the answer—you will continue to think about it until you’ve discovered it for yourself. It would be simple, even for an incurably stupid girl like you, if you only thought about it for a moment.”
“You can’t just starve me into submission, Snape,” Tonks snapped.
“Can’t I?” Snape’s eyes were deadly-cold. “That proves just how little you know about working as a spy. Many times, undercover, I have gone days without eating while I attempted to gain the information necessary to our cause.”
Tonks clenched her jaw, still glaring at him, but felt a slight twinge of guilt. His methods were abhorrent, but she had never really thought about what he must go through on the other side. “What will I be doing today?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
She read the cruel amusement in his eyes, followed his gaze to the chair across the room. He wouldn’t… but his smile turned triumphant when he saw her look at the chair. “Again?”
“Until you can tell me the answer,” he replied.
Tonks sat, folded her hands, and began to think.
~ * ~
At about eleven (Severus’ clock rested just out of her field of vision from where she sat, which, Tonks was sure, was intentional on his part), a small group of students came in. One of them, a tiny, blonde-haired Hufflepuff girl, gave her a confused look.
“We’re trying to finish this essay you assigned,” the short, dark boy told Snape, “but the books are all checked out of the library, and Madam Pince won’t tell us who has them.”
“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about that?” Snape glared at the three students.
“We thought we might borrow the books from you,” the little blonde girl suggested, finally tearing her eyes away from Tonks. “Just until tomorrow.”
“You will have plenty of time to finish the essays tomorrow, with the books from the library.”
“No, sir. We’re on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, sir. We have practice all day tomorrow.” The tall brown-haired girl told him.
“I don’t loan out my books. Particularly not to sniveling little brats who haven’t the patience to wait for the school copies.”
“That’s not fair!” Tonks stood up. “They’re just trying to get their work done.”
“Sit and be silent!” Snape raged. “And you all—out!” The students skittered out the door, all arguments forgotten in the face of Snape’s fury. Alone again, he turned on Tonks. “Again you have broken your agreement. One more outburst like that and I’m calling this experiment a loss. I cannot have you interfering with my authority and disobeying my commands.”
“I’m not going to stand by and listen to that – there’s no need to be a bastard to them just because they come to you with a legitimate request! You just like being cruel to them - you’re nothing but a bully, you slimy great git!”
Faster than Tonks could react, Snape’s hand snapped forward, backhanding Tonks across the face. “Do not presume to know my intentions, you presumptuous twit! You know nothing of my mind, and never will.”
“That’s it – I’m done!” Tonks launched out of her chair. “I’m sick of you abusing me, and I’m damned well sick of spending my time around you. You’re a twisted old bastard, and you won’t get any more kicks out of watching me sit here.”
“Leave then,” he sneered. “I knew you wouldn’t have the patience. Pity for that idiotic werewolf that he actually believed you could – he bet money on you, remember. Probably the last galleons he had, seeing the state of his robes.”
“I’ll happily pay him that money just to get away from you – it’s more than worth it!” Tonks spat, picking up a pile of graded essays off Snape’s desk and throwing them at him.
“Over-emotional and reckless to the last. I told him you’d give up within the week – I should have doubled the wager if you broke within two days.” Snape let the essays fall to the ground, standing as still and erect as a statue.
“And I should have known you’d never play straight with me – you just wanted to make me miserable under the guise of teaching me! That stupid sitting lesson had no purpose at all, admit it!”
“It was meant to teach you to keep still, you ridiculous, twitchy bint! Undercover skills are useless if you can’t learn first to be silent and discreet so people don’t remember that you were there! Patience! The ability to listen and interpret! Skills that you could never possibly understand, let alone possess. Now get out of my office and let me return to my work – I’ll expect those galleons within the week.” He snorted. “I should charge you extra for the headache you’ve given me.” Shaking his lank black hair, he turned and began picking up the scattered scrolls of parchment.
Several moments later, he sat back at his desk, glancing up toward the door. Against the other wall, Tonks was seated once again in the straight-backed chair, her face impassive and her posture perfect.
“Not giving up yet?”
Silence answered him.
He snorted and returned to his work. When a house elf brought down his lunch, he wordlessly handed her a scone and a cup of tea. She may not have given him his answer, but he took her silence as acceptance of his logic. And the growling of her stomach had been distracting, anyway.
~ * ~
Over the next two weeks, Tonks was alternately patient and rebellious. Eventually, she and Snape fell into an almost comfortable rhythm of snarking, bitterness, and occasional moments of understanding. The morning of the third Friday of the experience at first seemed as though it would be no different from any other day.
“Get up.”
Tonks recoiled instinctively from the sharp kick that stabbed into her side, and glared up at her tormentor, but didn’t say anything. She stood, folding the blanket he’d grudgingly given her on the second night, and tucking it away into one of his equipment cupboards. When she turned back, Snape was sitting at his desk eating a blackberry danish and drinking tea. A second cup of tea – no milk and no sugar, of course – and a piece of toast sat on a small tray across the desk from him. “You get a danish and I get plain toast – not even a pat of butter to go with. Is that fair in your twisted mind?”
“You might think better than to argue with me today, if you’d keep your overly large mouth shut for a moment.”
“What makes you say that?” Tonks grumbled, munching at the dry toast.
“If you can get through the day without embarassing yourself too horribly, I have a trial-run, so to speak, for you.” Watching as she choked, Snape sneered. “If you can manage to not embarrass yourself,” he repeated.
“I inhaled crumbs, you bastard, I doubt that’s a hanging offense.”
“It might be at the soiree we’d be attending tonight,” Snape commented drily. “We would be attending an opulent little ball that Lucius Malfoy is throwing – normally he wouldn’t be caught dead with me publically visiting his manor, but he’s making an exception tonight as he’s planning to use me as an example of his intense interest in philanthropic and scientific endeavours – as a teacher and a researcher, both, I can metaphorically kill two birds with one stone. All he required was that I bring my own… escort.”
“I’m coming as your date?”
“Mm, yes. Not an appealing prospect for me, either.” Snape snorted. “Just try not to step on too many feet – there will be a great deal of Death Eaters at this event, along quite a number of the Wizarding world’s elite.”
Tonks sipped her tea, trying to ignore his insults and focus on the important issues. “But… it’s not a real Death Eater function. What could I possibly learn for the Order at something like this?”
“First, you would be surprised what some of these men will let slip to a pretty and seemingly-clueless face. Secondly, this is not meant as an information-gathering mission for you, it’s meant to test whether you are capable of being around these people without getting yourself into serious trouble, and also, tangentially, to get them used to the idea of you as one of my associates. If you survive tonight without mishap, we may consider moving on to other interactions.”
“I’ll be fine!” Tonks laughed, downing the rest of her tea in a single gulp. “So… tell me what I need to know for tonight.”
~ * ~
“They believed it! They actually believed it!”
Nymphadora Tonks twirled—literally twirled, looking for all the world like an over-grown schoolgirl of no more than twelve—as she reverted to her usual appearance. One could certainly never call it ‘natural,’ with hair that color. Especially considering the way it clashed with the gown he'd been forced to rent for her
“Indeed,” Snape growled. “They seem to have accepted your little performance, although I can’t understand why. You nearly lost us the whole game, with that comment about the dancing toads…”
“Oh, come on, Snape! I did well, didn’t I? They never suspected for a moment that I wasn’t really who and what I said I was.”
“Perhaps not. But you shall have plenty more study and more careful practice before we attempt another such foolish enterprise. Go back to your rooms and sleep—we start again at seven tomorrow morning.”
A pout emerged on her full, pink lips. “Can’t we take just a single day off? I’ve been working for months! I just want a day to relax and enjoy our success! There’s a new shop in Hogsmeade I’ve been dying to visit, and I haven’t been out of this bloody dungeon in so long I think I’m actually starting to glow in the dark. You could come, too—you need to get out more. We could go to lunch, and--”
“NO! I am not going anywhere, and you most certainly are not, either. You took this assignment, Miss Tonks, and I expect you to take it seriously. No more frivolous wanderings, no more foolish play. You must work if you expect to succeed in this mission.”
“You can’t mean it. We’ve done nothing but work since I started!”
“And you barely survived your first night,” Snape reminded her coldly.
“They never once doubted me!”
“I counted at least three times you nearly broke your cover.”
“And they didn’t notice!” she wailed.
“Not this time. Next time, you could very well get us both killed. Either cooperate with me, follow my every command, or I swear to you, girl, I will send you straight back out where you came from, working useless guard shifts with Mundungus Fletcher.”
“I’m an Auror! I shouldn’t have to guard some crummy old mansion that nobody even lives in anymore—I want to do something useful and exciting. I want to be a spy!”
“You are nothing of the sort.” Snape glared down the end of his nose at her. “You are a hyper-active, useless twit of a girl who has no place in this war. You should go back to Lisson Grove and keep your perpetually-changing nose out of trouble.”
The stress of the past few weeks had finally caught up with Tonks, now that she saw how little her work had accomplished in her teacher’s eyes. She blinked several times at him, and then, quite suddenly, burst into tears. “I am not useless! I’m not! You just—oooh! You’ve never respected me, never wanted me to succeed except for your own purposes. You just wanted to see if it could be done, and to win that stupid bet with Remus! It was all a game to you!”
“It is hardly a game,” Snape sniffed airily. “I simply don’t see the need to continue if you aren’t going to put forth the effort to perfect your performance. One slip, girl, and we’re both dead.”
And quite suddenly, everything went very very wrong. “I just wanted a bit of appreciation, is all. Would it have killed you to be proud of me? After all this work!”
And now came the wailing.
Severus Snape had never done well with young women—they were entirely too emotional, too caught up in petty things like affections and appreciation, for his tastes. And the crying. Nothing in the world annoyed him more than crying. It was enough to drive a man insane. Men, at least, he thought, were inherently worthwhile. Let a woman in your life… and you were, quite honestly, plunging in the knife.
“Stop that infernal noise, you horrid brat,” he growled, “or you’ll find yourself turned to a toad after your next cup of tea, or a hedgehog after one of those damned chocolates you’re so fond of. It would certainly make your company more pleasant, not having to listen to your babble.”
“You stop threatening me, you greasy great oaf!” Tonks whipped out her wand, another sudden mood swing that Snape hadn’t expected, but he had the sense that, with all the tears that were still flooding from her eyes, she was unlikely to have the aim needed to hit him with anything particularly dangerous. “You’re the one ought to be turned into a toad – it’d improve your disposition, and nobody’d have to watch you smirk! Just you wait – just you wait, Severus Snape! When this war is over and the minister of magic calls me in to give me an award for my services, you just watch and see if I don’t ask for your head on a platter, for all you’ve put me through, you slimey, vicious, ill-tempered old bat!”
“Yes, and I’m sure he’ll march me right to the wall on your whim, you idiotic girl.” Snape snorted. “Get out of my rooms. Now. And I expect you to return that foolish dress and everything else, tomorrow morning – cleaned.”
“Fine!” Tonks screamed. “I don’t want the rag anyway!”
“And I expect reimbursement for every damned inkwell and piece of glassware you’ve broken, every quill you’ve snapped, and every one of those sickening chocolates, as well. Don’t attempt to short-change me, either, you low-bred trollop – I’ve kept a complete inventory since the night you walked into this office.”
“Whatever! Anything’s enough to get away from the likes of you! I hope you choke on your bloody tea tomorrow morning, and get a horrible skin condition from the fumes of your rancid potions!”
“Any amount of trouble is worth getting a nasty, whinging twit like you out of my life,” he sneered. “Now go.”
With a last shriek of frustration and fury, Tonks threw an inkwell – one of his last that had survived her clumsiness – shattering against the wall, and stormed out.
Snape looked after her for a moment, sneering, then settled back into the chair behind his desk, removing a roll of parchment from the bottom drawer. After dipping his quill, and pausing to enjoy the moment, he wrote in clear, neat writing, “Entry number one hundred and seventy-nine – yet another inkwell, priced at a galleon and seventeen sickles. The last entry in this ledger, unless the stupid bint rips the gown up out of spite.”
~ * ~
The dress returned by owl the next afternoon, whole and undamaged, and Snape was disturbed to find himself regretting that Tonks hadn’t brought it by herself. Of course, he only wanted to see her so he could rub his win in her face, but even desiring her presence for that seemed rather appallingly… interested. Anyway, at least there was silence, now, in which to get his work done.
Quite a lot of silence, actually.
Rather more than he’d remembered, from before their weeks of miserable co-existence in the dungeons. Around five o’clock, right around the time Tonks would have begun clicking her heels ever so slightly to remind him that she was there and awaiting his admission that it was time to eat something, he began to feel a peculiar craving for a chocolate. He’d been meaning to toss the box, but somehow hadn’t gotten round to it yet. After all, he had spent the money to buy them… why not eat one, and get a bit of his money’s worth? Merlin knew the wench had eaten enough of them. So he did, feeling gleefully vicious with the knowledge that she would much have begrudged him eating what she thought of as her chocolates. They were a bit thick and cloying in his mouth, but he forced himself to enjoy them with the knowledge that she would have been bitterly jealous if she’d been there.
It really wasn’t all that amusing to eat them without her there to glare, though. He put the box back in the drawer, entirely forgetting his previous plan to throw them out.
~ * ~
“So he cut you loose, did he?” Remus smiled sympathetically. “That’s too bad, Tonks. I was really starting to think it would work out for you.”
“So was I, that’s the bugger of it,” Tonks admitted, lolling her head back on the armchair across from the werewolf’s desk. “But he had to go and ruin it, the bitter old bastard. He likes making people unhappy, Remus, I know he does. He gets this manic gleam in his eye everytime he knows he’s made someone miserable.”
Remus chuckled softly. “He rather does, doesn’t he? I expect it’s all the social interaction he’s used to getting.”
“Expect it is, the git.” Tonks shook her head, plucking another chocolate out of the bowl on Remus’ desk. “Probably never had a friend in his miserable life.”
“No. I expect he hasn’t.”
Tonks looked up suspiciously. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Remus Lupin – you think I ought to’ve been softer to the wanker, don’t you? Think I should’ve made friends with him no matter how nasty he was to me. Well I won’t. He’s a mean-spirited son of a whore, and I’m not about to let him get away with that tripe with me.”
Remus sat back, watching her with cool amber eyes. “I didn’t say you should have let him get away with it, Tonks, and I agree with you that Severus is mean-spirited and often cruel. Not without reason, though, and not without a fair deal of good works and repentance behind that exterior.” Tonks snorted, but Remus ignored her and went on. “I think miserable is definitely the best word for his life, that’s all. And perhaps people could be a bit more understanding of why he is the way he is, sometimes.”
“He doesn’t need my understanding, Remus, if he did all he’d have to do is…”
“Is what? Ask you? He doesn’t believe in showing weakness, Tonks. Too many times, I think, a sign like that has gotten him kicked, so to speak, or worse.”
Tonks paused, thinking. “Bloody arrogant, grumpy son of a bitch,” she muttered.
Remus only nodded noncommitally, and handed her another chocolate.
~ * ~
By ten that night, Snape was ready to crack. The silence which had so long been his shelter from the world seemed to be pressing in upon him, leaving nothing but the whisperings of his mind, increasingly obsessed with the odd idea that it would be nice to have someone around to bring him his tea, to snap at when he was in a bad mood, or to whom he might grumble about the idiocy of his students, and then feel viciously pleased as they argued back with him.
“Devil take the woman,” he muttered, turning the page of his potions journal and reaching for his tea.
“I doubt it.”
Severus’s eyes snapped up to meet the amused amber gaze of Lupin. “What do you want?” he snarled.
“Chocolate?” Lupin held out a small box, tied with a black ribbon. “Tonks asked me to deliver them – according to her you could use the artificial endorphin high. Said she couldn’t bear to see your slimy face again, but I suspect she’s just being bitter about losing the bet.”
“I don’t want them.”
Lupin smiled. “I thought you might say that. Well – more for me, then.”
Snape snorted and snatched the box from the werewolf’s hands. “On the other hand, far be it from me to add to your determination to kill yourself with sweets. Don’t you know chocolate is poison to dogs?”
“Saving me from myself, Severus? How noble of you.” Lupin settled himself in the chair across from Snape, much to the potion master’s dismay. So much for the idea that the wolf would leave now that his errand was complete. “I never knew you cared,” the wolf teased.
“Albus would be most displeased if you succeeded at causing your own death. Besides, it seems to be my fate, unwilling though it is, to save Gryffindors from certain doom. Is there something else you want?”
“Indeed.” Lupin chuckled. “No, not really. I just thought we might chat for a little while.
“I do not want your company, Lupin.”
Lupin’s eyes twinkled with disturbingly malicious delight. “Alright, then I’ll send Tonks back. Perhaps you’d prefer her company?”
“I’d prefer no one’s company, I prefer to be alone!” Snape snarled. “I’ve had enough of the two of you intruding on my peace and quiet!”
“It is terribly quiet in here, isn’t it?” Lupin agreed placidly, apparently unaffected by the other man’s outburst. “I should have brought my victrola. I’m sure we could find some sort of music that was tolerable to both of us, and I’m equally sure you’d prefer that to my chattering.”
“I would, although certainly not that horrifically grating noise that you listen to.”
“It’s called swing, Severus. And it’s not all that I listen to. Would you prefer opera?”
“Why does it not surprise me that you would immediately leap to the idea of something that most closely resembles the howling of feral beasts in heat,” Snape grumbled. “I prefer classical music, yes.”
“Good, then, I’ll bring the victrola and some Beethoven next time I come down to see you.”
Snape nearly spat out his tea, aghast. “Next time you – Lupin! My office is not a social club, you mangy idiot.”
“No, and that’s why I’d be coming alone.” Lupin flashed what looked distinctly like a smirk. “I’ve seen the way you’ve acted since Tonks left, Severus. You look like you miss having people around – not that you’re a friendly sort,” he amended immediately, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence, “but simply that you grew… accustomed to having her around. Since Tonks is now off working on a mission for the Order—“
“What did they send her on, another paperwork errand to the German Ministry?”
“No, actually.” Lupin settled back in his chair, a pleasantly self-satisfied expression spreading across his tired features. “An undercover mission, actually. Apparently Albus had been planning for quite some time to make use of her special talents in the area of disguise, and the end of your little training exercise coincided perfectly with the last pieces falling together before he could send her off. So even though you flunked her, so to speak, Tonks got exactly what she’d been wanting all along.”
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “The blasted wench will be insufferable, now.”
“Yes, I expect she will,” Lupin agreed, without the slightest sign of displeasure. “In any case, since she’s gone, I decided that I was most suited to the job of… making sure you don’t languish back into your old, hermitic habits too much.”
“I happen to like my ‘hermitic habits,’” Snape sneered. “And I certainly prefer them to the company of a flea-bitten mongrel or an immature, garishly coloured bint with a habit of changing the shape of her nose for entertainment.”
“You only listed two insults against me – you’re warming to me already, I think, Severus. I’ll have you calling me by my first name within a week, I suspect.”
Snape glared for a moment. “Is that a bet?”
“Oh, no – I would never give you more reason than you already have to hold to your current habits,” Lupin replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Now… I don’t suppose I could convince you to share that box of chocolates with me, could I?”
"No."
Lupin laughed. "We'll have to work on that, too."
Snape snorted. "If you insist on hovering here, you ought to at least make yourself useful. I'm out of tea."
The werewolf's eyes glinted with mischief. "I might consider it if you'd give me a few of those chocolates. And I might even bring you your slippers while I'm at it, if you restrain comments about my being taught to fetch."
Considering for a moment, Snape opened his desk drawer and tossed out the box of chocolates. He watched as Lupin ate one, set another out on the desk, then carefully replaced the box on his desk before meandering across the room to fetch the tea kettle, peering at bookshelves on his way.
"Admit it," he commented over his shoulder as he measured out loose leaf tea into the straining ball, "you could get used to having me around."
Snape shook his head. "Just don't forget the slippers."
~ end ~
I posted the first few bits of this one a few months back, but here it is, in what I think is its entirety - I might add to or change a bit of the ending, but I think I'm satisfied with how it worked out, for now. It didn't at all end the way I planned, but it feels right.
Anyway. Here it is.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JKR, and the plot owes a fair amount to "Pygmalion" by George Bernard Shaw and to "My Fair Lady," the musical/movie based on that play.
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Author: Rosalindjen
Dedication and much thanks to
Feedback/rec/etc as you wish, but don't repost without my permission and name, please.
Title:
Accustomed to Her Face
“Come on—you know he’ll agree to it if you bet him that it won’t work! He’ll do it just out of pride.”
Remus Lupin shook his head, arms crossed firmly across his chest, sitting back in his chair. “No, Tonks. I’m not going to put you in danger like that.” Behind him, a cage of grindylows banged against the glass of their tank, as though in emphasis.
“Oh, I can handle him. Old Snape is just a pussy-cat inside, I’m sure. All that bluster is just an act,” Tonks laughed, brushing her a fringe of bubble-gum pink hair out of her eyes and took a sip of the now-tepid tea he’d given her. She’d put too much sugar in, as always, and the bottom dregs tasted almost syrupy from the excess.
“Even if that were true—which I assure you it is not, from the years I’ve known him—you know I didn’t mean Snape.” Remus shook his head. “Merlin, Tonks, can’t you just be pleased with what you’re doing? You’re the youngest Auror in years, and the Ministry gives you plenty of assignments.”
“Boring assignments. They’re coddling me and I know it. I want to be out in the thick of things, Remus. I want to do some good for the Order, and for the war! And that means being allowed to spy on the Dark Lord’s forces. Snape can get me in, and my talents make me perfect for the job, really. I can look like whatever I want, and no one will ever know that it’s really me, because I won’t look at all like myself!”
“There’s more to working undercover than disguise, Tonks.” Remus snagged a pile of exams out of harm’s way just before her tea, sloshed during her last somewhat violent statement, spilled all over them.
Tonks frowned. “I know that, Remus. I’m an Auror, remember? This is my job. I can do it—I know I can. I just can’t get them to let me!” She stood and began pacing Remus’ office, her tea abandoned on his desk.
“And I’m sure there’s a reason for that, Tonks,” Remus assured her, smiling mildly. “I wouldn’t be so upset that they want to keep you out of harm’s way, if I were you. We’ve lost enough good people in this war, already…”
“I know. That’s why I want to do this, in part. If I can infiltrate the Death Eaters, maybe I can get more information for us, and help keep people from getting killed.” Tonks threw herself back onto an overstuffed chair facing the fireplace.
“We’ve already got an insider, and if you’re caught, you might accidentally cast suspicion on Snape.” Remus pointed out.
“I’ll be careful, Remus. Really I will. You just have to convince him to take the bet—please! I want to help. I know I would be good at this. I just know it.”
“I don’t know… Tonks, it’s so dangerous.”
She scoffed, then looked up at him very seriously. “Remus, I swear, if I don’t get official help with doing this, I’ll do it on my own. I’m tired of being coddled, I’m tired of being given the easy jobs, and I’m tired of watching friends die. Please, just say you’ll talk to Snape.”
Remus looked at her for a moment, and she saw in his sad amber eyes that he was thinking of Sirius, wondering, probably not for the first time, whether maybe he might be still alive if Dumbledore had given him something to do, something to keep him from going mad from cabin-fever and determined to do something on his own. She knew she had him, then.
“All right,” he said softly. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Oh, thank you, Remus! You won’t regret it.” She leaped up and hugged him, grinning brightly. “Just remember to phrase it as a bet, and I know we’ll have him hooked. Oh, you’re the best friend a girl could have, Remus!” She laughed and hurried away, tossing off a cheerful wave as she went.
Remus looked after her, shaking his head.
~ * ~
“And you truly believe that clumsy, hyperactive girl would be a good secret agent? Lupin, I believe your condition is beginning to affect your mind. That is, perhaps, the most ludicrous suggestion I’ve heard in years.”
Remus felt almost relieved. Maybe he could just tell Tonks that Snape hadn’t taken the bet…
“If she gives up, we count it as a win for me—forfeit is failure. She’ll give up within a week,” Snape continued, a rare glint showing in his cold black eyes. “Ten galleons it is, Lupin. I’m surprised at you, really—you never struck me as the gambling sort. And you certainly don’t give any signs of having the money to spare,” he added, casting an unnecessarily cruel glance over Remus’ shabby robes.
Lupin’s jaw dropped, stunned, but before he could come up with a good response (or a way to slip back out of the bet), Snape had swept away. And, to Remus’ horror, it almost sounded as though the potions master was chuckling.
At least he could console himself with the knowledge that Tonks had promised to provide the ten galleons to pay off the debt, should she fail to succeed.
~ * ~
The next afternoon, Snape was interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Brow creased, he called for the visitor to enter, expecting one of his students. Instead, to his surprise, his room was invaded by Nymphadora Tonks.
“Ah, it’s you.” He turned back to the papers he’d been grading.
Tonks tilted her head quizzically, brushing a bit of bright green hair out of her eyes. “Remus said you agreed to teach me. So I’m here for my first lesson.”
“Fine. Sit in that chair there.” He gestured, without looking up, at a chair against the wall across the room. Tonks complied quickly, then looked up, apparently awaiting further instructions. Snape continued with his papers.
After a long moment, Tonks shifted nervously. “…And?”
“And nothing. You will sit there, silent and still, until I tell you to move. You will say nothing and do nothing. Don’t fidget.”
“How’s that supposed to help me?” Tonks demanded.
“If you can’t figure that out, then think about it while you sit. It will give your mind something to do other than waste space.”
“But—“
“Consider it your first lesson. If you figure out why I’ve assigned this task, you’ll get something to eat.”
Tonks stared at him, her blue eyes wide and shocked, but was silent. Snape shook his head, then returned to his work.
After only a few moments, the chair creaked.
“I told you not to move.”
“This chair isn’t exactly comfortable you know—“
“And I also told you not to speak. Which part of these directions are you not able to understand? Shall I write them out on the blackboard as I do with my idiot students?”
Tonks pouted, but folded her hands and kept her mouth shut.
“Well,” Snape muttered, “you might just survive your first lesson, after all.”
~ * ~
Three hours later, Snape finally stood, gathering his papers. “Very well, Miss Tonks. You have managed to meet my lowest expectations—feel free to stand.”
Moaning, Tonks got to her feet… and collapsed back into the chair, hand to her head. “Ooh, that makes me dizzy.”
“Back on your feet.”
“I said I’m dizzy, damn it! I haven’t stood in over three hours, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Snape grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the chair, setting her on her feet. “And I told you to stand. If you are to survive as a spy, you must follow my every order. Now. Tell me why I had you sit silently for three hours.”
“Because you’re a sadistic git, that’s why,” Tonks growled, rubbing her tailbone. “My bum’s asleep, you bastard.”
“Incorrect.” Snape smirked. “Tomorrow you can try again.”
“Fine. I’m going back to my room.”
“Ah.” He waited until she’d nearly reached the door. “You’re giving up, then?”
She turned back. “What do you mean?”
“If I am going to teach you, I require that you remain here, in the dungeons. All your time must be spent in an environment I control, and with which you are not familiar or comfortable. You will do as I say, every hour of your day. Every moment of your life will be under my control.”
Tonks’ eyes widened. “Bugger that! You’re not going to control my life like this!”
“I am if you’re to succeed. Please—feel free to give up. Potions supplies are quite expensive, really, and I’ve been looking at the possibility of buying a new mortar and pestle. There are some lovely new models in Diagon Alley, made of Grecian marble…”
“Fine.” Tonks glared at him. “Where am I going to sleep, then? And when do I eat?”
“Hmm, with a memory like that you’ll never survive as a spy. Don’t you recall what I told you about food? You may eat when you can explain the reasoning behind your first lesson.” He smirked. “As for where you’ll sleep, I suspect that the ground behind this desk should do admirably. I’ll be sure to request that the house elves bring you a blanket… if you succeed a bit more admirably at your tasks tomorrow, that is.”
“No food, and I sleep on the stone floor without a blanket?”
“Spying is often not a comfortable way of life, Miss Tonks. I suggest you learn that as quickly as possible.” He inclined his head. “Enjoy your night.”
Tonks waited until he’d left the room, then sprawled out on the ground. “Greasy-haired bloody buggering git,” she muttered.
~ * ~
The next morning, Tonks awoke stiff, cold, and sore from the her stone ‘bed’, and not in the least rested. Snape, unsurprisingly, was unsympathetic.
“I presume you’ve thought further about your lesson last night?”
“Of course I have. Not a lot else to do while sitting on your bloody-cold floor.”
“Then tell me.”
Tonks looked up at him, her expression pure defiance. “You were trying to break me—to wound my pride.”
“Incorrect.” Snape sneered.
“You’re lying—you’re just tellling me I’m wrong because you don’t want to let me eat, or let me feel like I’m doing this correctly.”
“You are not ‘doing this correctly,’ as you put it. And you have yet to give me the correct answer to my question.”
“Fine. Then what is it? I’ve waited enough, damn it.”
Snape smirked at her. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean that I will not give you the answer—you will continue to think about it until you’ve discovered it for yourself. It would be simple, even for an incurably stupid girl like you, if you only thought about it for a moment.”
“You can’t just starve me into submission, Snape,” Tonks snapped.
“Can’t I?” Snape’s eyes were deadly-cold. “That proves just how little you know about working as a spy. Many times, undercover, I have gone days without eating while I attempted to gain the information necessary to our cause.”
Tonks clenched her jaw, still glaring at him, but felt a slight twinge of guilt. His methods were abhorrent, but she had never really thought about what he must go through on the other side. “What will I be doing today?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
She read the cruel amusement in his eyes, followed his gaze to the chair across the room. He wouldn’t… but his smile turned triumphant when he saw her look at the chair. “Again?”
“Until you can tell me the answer,” he replied.
Tonks sat, folded her hands, and began to think.
~ * ~
At about eleven (Severus’ clock rested just out of her field of vision from where she sat, which, Tonks was sure, was intentional on his part), a small group of students came in. One of them, a tiny, blonde-haired Hufflepuff girl, gave her a confused look.
“We’re trying to finish this essay you assigned,” the short, dark boy told Snape, “but the books are all checked out of the library, and Madam Pince won’t tell us who has them.”
“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about that?” Snape glared at the three students.
“We thought we might borrow the books from you,” the little blonde girl suggested, finally tearing her eyes away from Tonks. “Just until tomorrow.”
“You will have plenty of time to finish the essays tomorrow, with the books from the library.”
“No, sir. We’re on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, sir. We have practice all day tomorrow.” The tall brown-haired girl told him.
“I don’t loan out my books. Particularly not to sniveling little brats who haven’t the patience to wait for the school copies.”
“That’s not fair!” Tonks stood up. “They’re just trying to get their work done.”
“Sit and be silent!” Snape raged. “And you all—out!” The students skittered out the door, all arguments forgotten in the face of Snape’s fury. Alone again, he turned on Tonks. “Again you have broken your agreement. One more outburst like that and I’m calling this experiment a loss. I cannot have you interfering with my authority and disobeying my commands.”
“I’m not going to stand by and listen to that – there’s no need to be a bastard to them just because they come to you with a legitimate request! You just like being cruel to them - you’re nothing but a bully, you slimy great git!”
Faster than Tonks could react, Snape’s hand snapped forward, backhanding Tonks across the face. “Do not presume to know my intentions, you presumptuous twit! You know nothing of my mind, and never will.”
“That’s it – I’m done!” Tonks launched out of her chair. “I’m sick of you abusing me, and I’m damned well sick of spending my time around you. You’re a twisted old bastard, and you won’t get any more kicks out of watching me sit here.”
“Leave then,” he sneered. “I knew you wouldn’t have the patience. Pity for that idiotic werewolf that he actually believed you could – he bet money on you, remember. Probably the last galleons he had, seeing the state of his robes.”
“I’ll happily pay him that money just to get away from you – it’s more than worth it!” Tonks spat, picking up a pile of graded essays off Snape’s desk and throwing them at him.
“Over-emotional and reckless to the last. I told him you’d give up within the week – I should have doubled the wager if you broke within two days.” Snape let the essays fall to the ground, standing as still and erect as a statue.
“And I should have known you’d never play straight with me – you just wanted to make me miserable under the guise of teaching me! That stupid sitting lesson had no purpose at all, admit it!”
“It was meant to teach you to keep still, you ridiculous, twitchy bint! Undercover skills are useless if you can’t learn first to be silent and discreet so people don’t remember that you were there! Patience! The ability to listen and interpret! Skills that you could never possibly understand, let alone possess. Now get out of my office and let me return to my work – I’ll expect those galleons within the week.” He snorted. “I should charge you extra for the headache you’ve given me.” Shaking his lank black hair, he turned and began picking up the scattered scrolls of parchment.
Several moments later, he sat back at his desk, glancing up toward the door. Against the other wall, Tonks was seated once again in the straight-backed chair, her face impassive and her posture perfect.
“Not giving up yet?”
Silence answered him.
He snorted and returned to his work. When a house elf brought down his lunch, he wordlessly handed her a scone and a cup of tea. She may not have given him his answer, but he took her silence as acceptance of his logic. And the growling of her stomach had been distracting, anyway.
~ * ~
Over the next two weeks, Tonks was alternately patient and rebellious. Eventually, she and Snape fell into an almost comfortable rhythm of snarking, bitterness, and occasional moments of understanding. The morning of the third Friday of the experience at first seemed as though it would be no different from any other day.
“Get up.”
Tonks recoiled instinctively from the sharp kick that stabbed into her side, and glared up at her tormentor, but didn’t say anything. She stood, folding the blanket he’d grudgingly given her on the second night, and tucking it away into one of his equipment cupboards. When she turned back, Snape was sitting at his desk eating a blackberry danish and drinking tea. A second cup of tea – no milk and no sugar, of course – and a piece of toast sat on a small tray across the desk from him. “You get a danish and I get plain toast – not even a pat of butter to go with. Is that fair in your twisted mind?”
“You might think better than to argue with me today, if you’d keep your overly large mouth shut for a moment.”
“What makes you say that?” Tonks grumbled, munching at the dry toast.
“If you can get through the day without embarassing yourself too horribly, I have a trial-run, so to speak, for you.” Watching as she choked, Snape sneered. “If you can manage to not embarrass yourself,” he repeated.
“I inhaled crumbs, you bastard, I doubt that’s a hanging offense.”
“It might be at the soiree we’d be attending tonight,” Snape commented drily. “We would be attending an opulent little ball that Lucius Malfoy is throwing – normally he wouldn’t be caught dead with me publically visiting his manor, but he’s making an exception tonight as he’s planning to use me as an example of his intense interest in philanthropic and scientific endeavours – as a teacher and a researcher, both, I can metaphorically kill two birds with one stone. All he required was that I bring my own… escort.”
“I’m coming as your date?”
“Mm, yes. Not an appealing prospect for me, either.” Snape snorted. “Just try not to step on too many feet – there will be a great deal of Death Eaters at this event, along quite a number of the Wizarding world’s elite.”
Tonks sipped her tea, trying to ignore his insults and focus on the important issues. “But… it’s not a real Death Eater function. What could I possibly learn for the Order at something like this?”
“First, you would be surprised what some of these men will let slip to a pretty and seemingly-clueless face. Secondly, this is not meant as an information-gathering mission for you, it’s meant to test whether you are capable of being around these people without getting yourself into serious trouble, and also, tangentially, to get them used to the idea of you as one of my associates. If you survive tonight without mishap, we may consider moving on to other interactions.”
“I’ll be fine!” Tonks laughed, downing the rest of her tea in a single gulp. “So… tell me what I need to know for tonight.”
~ * ~
“They believed it! They actually believed it!”
Nymphadora Tonks twirled—literally twirled, looking for all the world like an over-grown schoolgirl of no more than twelve—as she reverted to her usual appearance. One could certainly never call it ‘natural,’ with hair that color. Especially considering the way it clashed with the gown he'd been forced to rent for her
“Indeed,” Snape growled. “They seem to have accepted your little performance, although I can’t understand why. You nearly lost us the whole game, with that comment about the dancing toads…”
“Oh, come on, Snape! I did well, didn’t I? They never suspected for a moment that I wasn’t really who and what I said I was.”
“Perhaps not. But you shall have plenty more study and more careful practice before we attempt another such foolish enterprise. Go back to your rooms and sleep—we start again at seven tomorrow morning.”
A pout emerged on her full, pink lips. “Can’t we take just a single day off? I’ve been working for months! I just want a day to relax and enjoy our success! There’s a new shop in Hogsmeade I’ve been dying to visit, and I haven’t been out of this bloody dungeon in so long I think I’m actually starting to glow in the dark. You could come, too—you need to get out more. We could go to lunch, and--”
“NO! I am not going anywhere, and you most certainly are not, either. You took this assignment, Miss Tonks, and I expect you to take it seriously. No more frivolous wanderings, no more foolish play. You must work if you expect to succeed in this mission.”
“You can’t mean it. We’ve done nothing but work since I started!”
“And you barely survived your first night,” Snape reminded her coldly.
“They never once doubted me!”
“I counted at least three times you nearly broke your cover.”
“And they didn’t notice!” she wailed.
“Not this time. Next time, you could very well get us both killed. Either cooperate with me, follow my every command, or I swear to you, girl, I will send you straight back out where you came from, working useless guard shifts with Mundungus Fletcher.”
“I’m an Auror! I shouldn’t have to guard some crummy old mansion that nobody even lives in anymore—I want to do something useful and exciting. I want to be a spy!”
“You are nothing of the sort.” Snape glared down the end of his nose at her. “You are a hyper-active, useless twit of a girl who has no place in this war. You should go back to Lisson Grove and keep your perpetually-changing nose out of trouble.”
The stress of the past few weeks had finally caught up with Tonks, now that she saw how little her work had accomplished in her teacher’s eyes. She blinked several times at him, and then, quite suddenly, burst into tears. “I am not useless! I’m not! You just—oooh! You’ve never respected me, never wanted me to succeed except for your own purposes. You just wanted to see if it could be done, and to win that stupid bet with Remus! It was all a game to you!”
“It is hardly a game,” Snape sniffed airily. “I simply don’t see the need to continue if you aren’t going to put forth the effort to perfect your performance. One slip, girl, and we’re both dead.”
And quite suddenly, everything went very very wrong. “I just
And now came the wailing.
Severus Snape had never done well with young women—they were entirely too emotional, too caught up in petty things like affections and appreciation, for his tastes. And the crying. Nothing in the world annoyed him more than crying. It was enough to drive a man insane. Men, at least, he thought, were inherently worthwhile. Let a woman in your life… and you were, quite honestly, plunging in the knife.
“Stop that infernal noise, you horrid brat,” he growled, “or you’ll find yourself turned to a toad after your next cup of tea, or a hedgehog after one of those damned chocolates you’re so fond of. It would certainly make your company more pleasant, not having to listen to your babble.”
“You stop threatening me, you greasy great oaf!” Tonks whipped out her wand, another sudden mood swing that Snape hadn’t expected, but he had the sense that, with all the tears that were still flooding from her eyes, she was unlikely to have the aim needed to hit him with anything particularly dangerous. “You’re the one ought to be turned into a toad – it’d improve your disposition, and nobody’d have to watch you smirk! Just you wait – just you wait, Severus Snape! When this war is over and the minister of magic calls me in to give me an award for my services, you just watch and see if I don’t ask for your head on a platter, for all you’ve put me through, you slimey, vicious, ill-tempered old bat!”
“Yes, and I’m sure he’ll march me right to the wall on your whim, you idiotic girl.” Snape snorted. “Get out of my rooms. Now. And I expect you to return that foolish dress and everything else, tomorrow morning – cleaned.”
“Fine!” Tonks screamed. “I don’t want the rag anyway!”
“And I expect reimbursement for every damned inkwell and piece of glassware you’ve broken, every quill you’ve snapped, and every one of those sickening chocolates, as well. Don’t attempt to short-change me, either, you low-bred trollop – I’ve kept a complete inventory since the night you walked into this office.”
“Whatever! Anything’s enough to get away from the likes of you! I hope you choke on your bloody tea tomorrow morning, and get a horrible skin condition from the fumes of your rancid potions!”
“Any amount of trouble is worth getting a nasty, whinging twit like you out of my life,” he sneered. “Now go.”
With a last shriek of frustration and fury, Tonks threw an inkwell – one of his last that had survived her clumsiness – shattering against the wall, and stormed out.
Snape looked after her for a moment, sneering, then settled back into the chair behind his desk, removing a roll of parchment from the bottom drawer. After dipping his quill, and pausing to enjoy the moment, he wrote in clear, neat writing, “Entry number one hundred and seventy-nine – yet another inkwell, priced at a galleon and seventeen sickles. The last entry in this ledger, unless the stupid bint rips the gown up out of spite.”
~ * ~
The dress returned by owl the next afternoon, whole and undamaged, and Snape was disturbed to find himself regretting that Tonks hadn’t brought it by herself. Of course, he only wanted to see her so he could rub his win in her face, but even desiring her presence for that seemed rather appallingly… interested. Anyway, at least there was silence, now, in which to get his work done.
Quite a lot of silence, actually.
Rather more than he’d remembered, from before their weeks of miserable co-existence in the dungeons. Around five o’clock, right around the time Tonks would have begun clicking her heels ever so slightly to remind him that she was there and awaiting his admission that it was time to eat something, he began to feel a peculiar craving for a chocolate. He’d been meaning to toss the box, but somehow hadn’t gotten round to it yet. After all, he had spent the money to buy them… why not eat one, and get a bit of his money’s worth? Merlin knew the wench had eaten enough of them. So he did, feeling gleefully vicious with the knowledge that she would much have begrudged him eating what she thought of as her chocolates. They were a bit thick and cloying in his mouth, but he forced himself to enjoy them with the knowledge that she would have been bitterly jealous if she’d been there.
It really wasn’t all that amusing to eat them without her there to glare, though. He put the box back in the drawer, entirely forgetting his previous plan to throw them out.
~ * ~
“So he cut you loose, did he?” Remus smiled sympathetically. “That’s too bad, Tonks. I was really starting to think it would work out for you.”
“So was I, that’s the bugger of it,” Tonks admitted, lolling her head back on the armchair across from the werewolf’s desk. “But he had to go and ruin it, the bitter old bastard. He likes making people unhappy, Remus, I know he does. He gets this manic gleam in his eye everytime he knows he’s made someone miserable.”
Remus chuckled softly. “He rather does, doesn’t he? I expect it’s all the social interaction he’s used to getting.”
“Expect it is, the git.” Tonks shook her head, plucking another chocolate out of the bowl on Remus’ desk. “Probably never had a friend in his miserable life.”
“No. I expect he hasn’t.”
Tonks looked up suspiciously. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Remus Lupin – you think I ought to’ve been softer to the wanker, don’t you? Think I should’ve made friends with him no matter how nasty he was to me. Well I won’t. He’s a mean-spirited son of a whore, and I’m not about to let him get away with that tripe with me.”
Remus sat back, watching her with cool amber eyes. “I didn’t say you should have let him get away with it, Tonks, and I agree with you that Severus is mean-spirited and often cruel. Not without reason, though, and not without a fair deal of good works and repentance behind that exterior.” Tonks snorted, but Remus ignored her and went on. “I think miserable is definitely the best word for his life, that’s all. And perhaps people could be a bit more understanding of why he is the way he is, sometimes.”
“He doesn’t need my understanding, Remus, if he did all he’d have to do is…”
“Is what? Ask you? He doesn’t believe in showing weakness, Tonks. Too many times, I think, a sign like that has gotten him kicked, so to speak, or worse.”
Tonks paused, thinking. “Bloody arrogant, grumpy son of a bitch,” she muttered.
Remus only nodded noncommitally, and handed her another chocolate.
~ * ~
By ten that night, Snape was ready to crack. The silence which had so long been his shelter from the world seemed to be pressing in upon him, leaving nothing but the whisperings of his mind, increasingly obsessed with the odd idea that it would be nice to have someone around to bring him his tea, to snap at when he was in a bad mood, or to whom he might grumble about the idiocy of his students, and then feel viciously pleased as they argued back with him.
“Devil take the woman,” he muttered, turning the page of his potions journal and reaching for his tea.
“I doubt it.”
Severus’s eyes snapped up to meet the amused amber gaze of Lupin. “What do you want?” he snarled.
“Chocolate?” Lupin held out a small box, tied with a black ribbon. “Tonks asked me to deliver them – according to her you could use the artificial endorphin high. Said she couldn’t bear to see your slimy face again, but I suspect she’s just being bitter about losing the bet.”
“I don’t want them.”
Lupin smiled. “I thought you might say that. Well – more for me, then.”
Snape snorted and snatched the box from the werewolf’s hands. “On the other hand, far be it from me to add to your determination to kill yourself with sweets. Don’t you know chocolate is poison to dogs?”
“Saving me from myself, Severus? How noble of you.” Lupin settled himself in the chair across from Snape, much to the potion master’s dismay. So much for the idea that the wolf would leave now that his errand was complete. “I never knew you cared,” the wolf teased.
“Albus would be most displeased if you succeeded at causing your own death. Besides, it seems to be my fate, unwilling though it is, to save Gryffindors from certain doom. Is there something else you want?”
“Indeed.” Lupin chuckled. “No, not really. I just thought we might chat for a little while.
“I do not want your company, Lupin.”
Lupin’s eyes twinkled with disturbingly malicious delight. “Alright, then I’ll send Tonks back. Perhaps you’d prefer her company?”
“I’d prefer no one’s company, I prefer to be alone!” Snape snarled. “I’ve had enough of the two of you intruding on my peace and quiet!”
“It is terribly quiet in here, isn’t it?” Lupin agreed placidly, apparently unaffected by the other man’s outburst. “I should have brought my victrola. I’m sure we could find some sort of music that was tolerable to both of us, and I’m equally sure you’d prefer that to my chattering.”
“I would, although certainly not that horrifically grating noise that you listen to.”
“It’s called swing, Severus. And it’s not all that I listen to. Would you prefer opera?”
“Why does it not surprise me that you would immediately leap to the idea of something that most closely resembles the howling of feral beasts in heat,” Snape grumbled. “I prefer classical music, yes.”
“Good, then, I’ll bring the victrola and some Beethoven next time I come down to see you.”
Snape nearly spat out his tea, aghast. “Next time you – Lupin! My office is not a social club, you mangy idiot.”
“No, and that’s why I’d be coming alone.” Lupin flashed what looked distinctly like a smirk. “I’ve seen the way you’ve acted since Tonks left, Severus. You look like you miss having people around – not that you’re a friendly sort,” he amended immediately, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence, “but simply that you grew… accustomed to having her around. Since Tonks is now off working on a mission for the Order—“
“What did they send her on, another paperwork errand to the German Ministry?”
“No, actually.” Lupin settled back in his chair, a pleasantly self-satisfied expression spreading across his tired features. “An undercover mission, actually. Apparently Albus had been planning for quite some time to make use of her special talents in the area of disguise, and the end of your little training exercise coincided perfectly with the last pieces falling together before he could send her off. So even though you flunked her, so to speak, Tonks got exactly what she’d been wanting all along.”
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. “The blasted wench will be insufferable, now.”
“Yes, I expect she will,” Lupin agreed, without the slightest sign of displeasure. “In any case, since she’s gone, I decided that I was most suited to the job of… making sure you don’t languish back into your old, hermitic habits too much.”
“I happen to like my ‘hermitic habits,’” Snape sneered. “And I certainly prefer them to the company of a flea-bitten mongrel or an immature, garishly coloured bint with a habit of changing the shape of her nose for entertainment.”
“You only listed two insults against me – you’re warming to me already, I think, Severus. I’ll have you calling me by my first name within a week, I suspect.”
Snape glared for a moment. “Is that a bet?”
“Oh, no – I would never give you more reason than you already have to hold to your current habits,” Lupin replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Now… I don’t suppose I could convince you to share that box of chocolates with me, could I?”
"No."
Lupin laughed. "We'll have to work on that, too."
Snape snorted. "If you insist on hovering here, you ought to at least make yourself useful. I'm out of tea."
The werewolf's eyes glinted with mischief. "I might consider it if you'd give me a few of those chocolates. And I might even bring you your slippers while I'm at it, if you restrain comments about my being taught to fetch."
Considering for a moment, Snape opened his desk drawer and tossed out the box of chocolates. He watched as Lupin ate one, set another out on the desk, then carefully replaced the box on his desk before meandering across the room to fetch the tea kettle, peering at bookshelves on his way.
"Admit it," he commented over his shoulder as he measured out loose leaf tea into the straining ball, "you could get used to having me around."
Snape shook his head. "Just don't forget the slippers."
~ end ~
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Date: 2004-07-04 01:33 am (UTC)Anyway, I adore the idea and it was wonderfully executed too ... Remus's amount of patience with Snape is close to angelic.
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Date: 2004-07-04 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 10:26 am (UTC)XD
I LOVE IT!
The Snape and Lupin interactions were what made it great ... particularly because I don't like Tonks, myself. Ugh. I'd go insane if I were Sev...
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Date: 2004-07-04 11:05 am (UTC)*Laughs* I like Tonks, but she is a bit... odd. And definitely not the type for Sev.
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Date: 2004-07-04 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 11:04 am (UTC)That's such a compliment from you!!!! Yay, thank you!
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Date: 2004-07-04 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-04 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-05 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-05 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-07 07:51 am (UTC)If I were you, I'd bloody well try to finish more stories like this one!:)
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Date: 2004-07-07 10:44 pm (UTC)