You can't be at the pole and the equator at the same time.
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Tonks
April 29th, 2007 10:30 pm
Filtered Post: Friends

They're both sleeping. At the same time. For a hour now. I even think I might have seen Marcellus' eyes drift closed.

The flat is a mess - and there is still enough food to feed all of the United Kingdom for a weekend that I fear the kitchen table is going to collapse, so if you all would come over, do a load of laundry, and eat at least three full meals, that would be fantastic.

I'll be here, watching my husband, and my children. I wonder, sometimes, when I tripped over my own feet and fell into this fantasy where life gave me moments in my dressing gown where I look down at my son and my daughter and watch them ball their tiny fists in their tiny dreams and feel so much joy that my hair turns as yellow as a crayon sun.

music: Sons and Daughters - The Decemberists

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Tonks
April 8th, 2007 12:12 am
Note left on Marcellus' folded pajama top

My Marik,

I am yours and you are mine.

Tomorrow.

I love you,
Your Vi

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Tonks
April 7th, 2007 11:53 pm
Owl Post: Harry Potter

Harry,

I'm getting married. Tomorrow. And you're going to be right there next to me, thank god, just like you've been whenever I've needed you ever since we met. You speak my language, and it's a language of song lyrics and double meanings and secret codes and multi-stage lists, borrowed jeans and inexplicably complicated social entanglements, sibling bickering and sleep-overs. You know me like I know the Auror Codebook - no, actually, even better than that. You can see through the pink hair and the nose of the day and see that spark of magic under my skin all of the time. You always recognize it and say, "Hey, love," with a smile twitching at your lips and that is why I need you, that's why you're my best friend, because you can find me even when I don't know where to look.

See you tomorrow. In your fantastic dress.

Love,
Tonks

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Tonks
April 7th, 2007 11:41 pm
Muggle Post: Ted and Andromeda Tonks

Mum and Dad,

I don't even know what to say. You are amazing parents, absolutely perfect for me, your strange shape-changing, tradition-breaking daughter. I thought of a hundred ways to tell you what it means to know that the two of you brought me here, to this moment, where I'm about to get married and be a parent myself. But all I can think about is the smell of coffee on a Saturday morning and Dad crisping bacon while singing to Van Morrison and Mum coming in from the studio with clay in her eyebrows and how, when you both looked at each other, that was love, right there.

Love,
Nymphadora

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Tonks
April 7th, 2007 11:29 pm
Owl Post: Lake Cottage

There are two seperate envelopes; one for Snape and one for Draco.

Severus,

I am looking forward to trying out two new names on you: Father and Grandfather. In turn, I hope you are pleased as I am that I'll have a new name, too.

Love,
Nymphadora

---

Draco,

Thank you for reminding me how much family means.

Love,
Nymphadora

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Tonks
April 7th, 2007 11:03 pm
Owl Post: Kingsley Shacklebolt, WardKey: NT76y49003200141h

Lee,

You taught me how to sneak into the library after hours at Auror Academy and you taught me how to do my job in peacetime after I'd learned how to survive a war. You've taken me in at all hours of the night, quizzed me on codes, listened to me complain about the stark decorating techniques you employ, and held me when I couldn't quite get anything together. I love you, and I'm sorry we seem to fight more than anything else lately. I'd much rather have you have my back in a fight than anything else.

See you tomorrow. I'm sure the dress will look stunning on you.

-Tonks

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Tonks
April 6th, 2007 10:48 pm
Hand-written note found crumpled in the trash in Tonks and Marcellus' flat

Mum and Draco,

I might as well write to both of you at once and it's much easier than floo-calling since the last time I called either of you with just a quick question, we ended up discussing various glass-breaking traditions and colour-meaning correspondences and bone china and I'm tired and have been trying to get to bed for hours now but I can't sleep because I was looking at worksheet on page 2 at the order of the blessings, and I can't tell if the Romani blessing is supposed to come between the two Orthodox blessings. And which Orthodox blessing is the song? Is that the same one that's in Russian? Because it might make more sense for the French hymn to go after the four psalms - and don't either of you get started on there not being anything French, it's not like we ought to reject the entire language just because of the Blacks, and I've always loved that version.

And did we decide if we're beginning the ceremony in Russian, because if we are, I need to practice because I always confuse начать and приветствовать. I really should have made Marcellus stick to talking to me only in Russian for the past week, I'm a lot rustier than I'd like to be in front of 800 guests. What's the grand total again? It's larger every time I ask, and we can't possibly be related to that many people, can we?

I can't remember half the time what I'm supposed to be doing when, whether we're running to the altar first or catching the flying carpet before we kiss or who's going to be upset at having their part of the family offended or left out or just be upset about something and this just isn't what I wanted isn't supposed to be this stressful, is it? I mean, upper level Auror exams aren't even this hard, and I've used all up all my labels and tabs and highlighters and

I'm going to have a baby in just a few weeks and I'm supposed to stand up on the dais for three hours

The fucking wedding's in two days and I feel so lost I'm not even sure it's mine

This isn't what I

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Tonks
April 1st, 2007 02:01 pm
Note for Marcellus pinned to the door of the flat

G-L-O-R-I-A (Gloria),

G-L-O-R-I-A (GLORIA)
G-L-O-R-I-A (GLORIA)
I'm gonna shout it all night (GLORIA)
I'm gonna shout it everyday (GLORIA)
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

G-L-O-R-I-A,
(Gloria)

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Tonks
March 2nd, 2007 11:18 pm
Private Post

Things I vowed I would never do in my life:
Get married
Have a baby
Become a Healer

Well at least one thing remains on the list.

Planning a wedding is surreal, though I expect that has less to do with the actual tasks involved in that planning and more to do with the fact that I'm spending most of my time saying yes, no, or "Dear god, I had no idea I had to do THAT!" to my mother and to Cousin Draco.

I fear that this wedding is either going to be five days or one extremely intense hour long. It's rather like Auror exams, although when I say things like that to Marcellus he tends to look frightened and then kisses my hand and runs away quickly before I can ask him another question about flowers or music or seating arrangements.

Oh, the seating arrangements.

Blacks. Mafloys. Snapes. Dolohovs. Muggles. Harry Potter. All in one confined space for a possible indeterminate amount of time. We can hardly decide what language the service should be done in. And Marcellus keeps insisting it has to be orthodox, but honestly, I don't think the Russian Orthodox Church has any frame of reference for a hugely pregnant bride with pink hair.

I've been warned not to get stressed, but, for once in my life, it's not actually a concern. Work is quiet (and desk duty isn't so objectionable when there really isn't anything going on in the field.) Everyone is so pleased we're getting married that no one's even arguing yet. And since my baby seems to buck tradition at every turn, I am now able to eat nearly anything I want without any objection from my body (except acorn squash, which remains vile stuff) and my internal organs are suffering less and less from unpredictably kicking, punching, and somersaulting. Or maybe I'm just getting accustomed to it.

And Marcellus - every time I think of calling him my husband I dissolve into a fit of giggles worthy of an thirteen-year-old at her first Weird Sisters concert - has been kind and attentive and amusing in a way he hadn't been for months. Perhaps he and I were in the same place, fearing situations we knew nothing about, and upon finding ourselves smack in the middle of them anyway, realizing we were coping fantastically well.

I promised my mother that I would narrow down the choices of ribbons to be used in either my bouquet or the placeholder for the guestbook, I can't remember, down to two, but all I've done is alphabetized them by colour and then by type, and so I think I'm going to see if my fiancé wants to watch Stargate Atlantis and see if we can finally determine how John Sheppard's hair manages to do that thing it does. And then maybe see if we can still manage to fit into the shower together.

music: Melody - Erin McKeown

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Tonks
February 11th, 2007 05:56 pm
Written on a note that hovers around Marcellus' head and tickles his nose until it's read

My Marik,

How long have you had that ring? You're unbelievable. Why didn't you say - one of those five hundred times we insisted to everyone else that we would not get married - that, actually, you were rather fond of the idea? It wouldn't have been the first time we'd done something like this. I seem to recall the two of us insisting to everyone else last year that we were just friends when we were both, obviously, hopelessly in love.

I adore you, do you know that? You make me incandescently happy.

Your Vi

The note is heard to play Into the Mystic once over, very faintly.

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Tonks
February 11th, 2007 12:23 am
Owl Post: Harry Potter

He asked. I thought I must have misheard him, it was right in the middle of dinner with all the family there, but, he really asked. I almost couldn't remember how to say the word yes.

I'd love to come to lunch tomorrow. We can talk about plans for your dress. I guess I'll need a dress, too. Oh, Harry. The ring. I'm getting married. I think I may need to lay on the floor and listen to Astral Weeks.

Love,
Tonks

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Tonks
February 11th, 2007 12:03 am
Owl Post: Harry Potter

Harry,

Step we gaily on we go
Heel and heel
And toe for toe
Arm and arm
And row and row
All for Marie's wedding


Will you be my maid of honour?

Love,
Tonks

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Tonks
February 8th, 2007 11:36 pm
Owl Post: Lake Cottage, Finola Dolohova , Andi and Ted Tonks, Viktor Krum, Regulus Black

My dear family,

I've nearly forgotten that Marcellus' birthday is this coming Sunday, and although I could certainly use the excuse that I can't be expected to remember anything when I can hardly remember day to day whether my child has decided to be a boy or a girl, now that I've managed to recall the child's father's birthday, it is my responsibility to throw him a party.

Or, well, about as much of a party as all of us together can summon. I think we can safely say that we can manage a family dinner. And, no, Regulus, I don't mean the Black kind of family dinner. I mean a civil, sit-down, celebratory meal where Marcellus can feel special and adored by his family, and where no one quarrels about the illegitimate circumstances of his birth. In fact, no one is allowed to talk about the illegitimate circumstances of our child's imminent birth, either. Anyone who even mentions the word wedding, wed, ring, or any other marriage-related term I deem inappropriate will be thrown directly into the floo, and I can't promise I'll get the destination address right.

Come to our flat Saturday evening. You don't even need to RSVP. Just bring Marcellus presents. And I wouldn't say no to some flowers for me.

Love,
Nymphadora

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Tonks
February 6th, 2007 04:23 pm
Note tucked into the pocket of Viktor Krum's newly laundered jeans

Viktor,

You're welcome to stay any time, I'm sure you know that. I'm sure Marik has said it any number of times this week, but I thought it couldn't hurt to say it once. And I know you have to sleep with a cradle at your feet, but at least the baby isn't born yet and you can still get a full night's sleep, so you might as well take advantage of our guest room while there's still room for guests.

I'm a girl, so I can say things like this: I'm here if you want to talk, you know. I'm a good listener, as good as Marik. After all, who puts up with all his woeful ramblings but you and me?

I'm ordering from Thanasi's tonight. Send me an owl if there's anything in particular you want and I'll pick it up on my way home from work. Marik and I did promise to show you Stargate: Atlantis, tonight, didn't we? I suspect that you'll quite like John Sheppard.

-Nymphadora

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Tonks
January 21st, 2007 08:44 pm
Filtered Post: Marcellus Dolohov

You know, one's hospital room gets rather quiet after one has been surrounded by quite so many visitors. I've never had that many visitors, actually, not all at once. I'm not dying, am I? You can tell me if I am, I promise I'll take it well.

And Regulus seemed quite keen to know if St. Mungo's has a paging system. Do you know what that was about?

music: Some terrible violin concerto that's supposed to be soothing

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Tonks
January 19th, 2007 06:26 am
Note left tucked into the folds of Marcellus' scarf

Marik,

I can no longer fit into anything in either my closet or yours. Not properly, at least, and it's too cold to be getting a constant draft around my midriff. I am going shopping in Muggle London where no one can see to scoff at the dozen or so enlargement charms I've put on the waist of these Levis. And yes, they are yours. Or were. I'm not sure they'll ever fit either of us the same ever again.

I'm fine to go alone. I've taken the day off work and everything. It's why I let you sleep. Unless you'd rather spend your morning watching me try on everything in every single store. Right, exactly what I thought.

I love you,
Your Vi

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Tonks
January 7th, 2007 06:48 pm
Filtered Post: Harry Potter

Harry, love, the t-shirts are brilliant. Thank you. There's one made just for the Alien Sprog, and I'm going to wear the "new black" one to the next family gathering and see if anyone gets the joke. Or, possibly, storms off in a rage. Either one would amuse me right now, I think.

And as for being bored and online, I'm right there with you. After I complained about the computer hurting my back, Marcellus set up this extravagant pillow back support system on the couch for me. He's really become ingenious when it comes to making me less cranky. I guess it's been a survival skill lately.

Hey, speaking of things that are making me less cranky, do you by any chance have any Lily Allen songs?

music: Honey to the Bee- Billie

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Tonks
January 5th, 2007 05:42 pm
Private Post

I need to ask my mother if weird music cravings were a part of her pregnancy. Nevermind late-night urges for olives on seven-grain bread and chocolate soy milk, I’ve been craving Britney Spears.Collapse )

music: Beacuse We Want To - Bille

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Tonks
November 26th, 2006 11:38 am
Private Post

Every time we spend the night over at Lake Cottage, I wake early by some unfamiliar noise - Issy scrambling about getting breakfast ready, a door opening down the hall - and Marcellus isn't exactly the heaviest sleeper, but the early-mornings going on never seem to wake him here. And so I pull the covers up around his shoulders and slip on my warm socks and go to sit at the at the edge of the bed bench and stare at the landscape of Poland that hangs on the wall opposite the bed.

It's taken up almost entirely by an enormous tree, its bare branches reaching up to touch the frame, looking brown and old, with smooth bark and hundreds of years of history to tell. The tree's growing out over a scrubby green field, every blade of grass tough as nails and ready for the coldest winter even though its sunny and the bits of sky that peek through the tree branches are blue. There's a palomino horse in the very corner, and you would think this was a Muggle painting except for the few times he lifts his head and looks out at you.

I feel calm looking at this picture, the same way I feel calm whenever we stay over at Lake Cottage.Collapse )

music: L'Arlésienne Suite No. 1 - Georges Bizet

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Tonks
November 19th, 2006 10:45 pm
Filtered Post: Marcellus Dolohov

Are you awake, Marik? I'm hoping you succeeded in your badgering of the mediwitches and were finally given your computer. Your mother sent me home, and, really, has anyone ever won an argument against her?

I don't like being home without you here. I'm wearing your pants, though, those lovely crisp khaki ones, so you'd better get well soon or I might just decide they look better on me.

music: Red Right Ankle - The Decemberists

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Tonks
November 18th, 2006 12:53 am
Private Post

I looked up and there was a cup of tea in my hands, and I can't remember if I made it, or if I didn't, who it was who gave it to me. I shouldn't drink tea. It upsets my stomach, even the stuff without caffeine. It's the baby, or perhaps not anything as quaint as baby's likes or dislikes but something just plain physiological, my stomach being smashed in one direction or the other by this little part of Marcellus and me.

Everyone asks about the baby. The baby is fine. It hasn't lost anyone yet. It's is curled quietly inside me, warm and safe, and I wish to God I had someplace dark and warm I could hide, where I could just sit, and grow, and not be terrified, not ask why.

I hate hospitals. I hate blood on Severus' robes and I hate urgent owls and I hate every single moment of this November.

I'm going to need someone to give me more of that sedative. It's already wearing off. I can feel everything again. Everything.

music: Exile - Kate Rusby and Kathryn Roberts

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Tonks
November 18th, 2006 12:47 am
Owl Post: Hermione Granger

Hermione,

Thank you for your owl. It brought me out of my senseless panicking for a moment. If I could think of something in particular I needed, I would certainly ask, but I'm afraid to say I just have no idea right now. I don't even feel like I'm in my body.

I'm even more afraid to say that what I really need is Harry, and it's never been more clear than this very moment that he's gone.

Will you stop by the hospital tomorrow?

Love,
Tonks

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Tonks
November 8th, 2006 11:39 pm
Floo Call: Severus Snape, Lake Cottage

Severus? Do you have a moment?

music: Ma Vie S'est Arretee - BeauSoleil

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Tonks
November 6th, 2006 09:31 pm
Note written on the first page of a blank leather-bound notebook

My dear son or daughter,

It's early enough that I don't know which you'll be, and the Healers tell me I might not know until I'm holding you in my arms. You're going to be like me, a Metamorphmagus, a baby changeling, I'm certain of it. And so you're playing coy with your defining features, the same way you're playing with changing your mother's hair. Your father prefers it pink, you know. You might keep that in mind in the future.

I'd heard some of my Aurors talk about keeping books like this when they were pregnant, letters they wanted their child to read when they grew up, things they wanted to write down because they were worried, by the time their baby was old enough to understand, they'd have forgotten the thread of the story, the details that brought it alive.

I never really had a story to tell you until now, until I lost my best friend, and it's suddenly absolutely clear that I don't want to forget a single detail about who he was, about what he was like. I had hoped you would know him, that he'd hold you in his arms and spoil you rotten and get to see you grow up. But he's left us now, and he only got to know you as the alien sprog inside me who made me gag at the mere mention of honey, who made my tummy round beyond my control when I'd always been able to change whatever I wanted about my body. He only knew you as the future, and he insisted he'd be your godfather. Maybe we'll call him that anyway.

So, who was he? He was a friend who always let me borrow his Levis and always insisted I stretched them out when I returned them, even though they fit just the same on his bony arse. Be sure you find a friend who'll let you borrow your his or her clothes when you grow up, all right? There's something about trusting another person with your Levis.

And while you're at it, find a friend who doesn't mind if you colour-code and alphabetize their closet when you return the Levis. Someone who appreciates the way you fold his towels in thirds because he can't ever get it quite right. Someone who will make you a cup of tea and demand to know, without a word, with just a single look, what it is that's bothering you so much you've been reduced to organising other people's closets and folding other people's linens with disturbing precision. Find a friend who knows you, who cares about you enough to know when borrowing clothes is just borrowing clothes, and when its about needing to have some part of someone with you all day so you don't feel so alone.

Your father's calling me. He's made soup for dinner. You'll find out sooner rather than later that we're both pants at cooking, but your Dad, he's not half bad with anything that stirs together in one pot.

I'll write again soon. I have lots of stories.

Love,
Your Mum

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Tonks
November 6th, 2006 03:02 am
Owl Post: Kingsley Shacklebolt

Lee,

I miss you. I was wrong, but can we argue about just quite how wrong later? I need you back.

Tonks