Dawn Breaking

A/N - thank as always to the hardest working Beta in the field, KATE!! Thanks also to my reviewers who have made me very happy. This should top out at around six or seven chapters, I am writing it to answer a challenge and also as a break from the rather disturbing things that are showing up in E PLuribus Unim, which is still on schedule for the fifteenth. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 – Topsy Turvy

Tonks left the professor as he was drifting off to sleep and felt a strange affection rise in her heart as she watched him become vulnerable in sleep. He was a good-looking man; slightly too proper and polite, perhaps, but she could loosen him up. Wait, did she just think that? The man had been through enough in the last few years, the last thing he needs is ‘Terrible Tonks’ falling all over him, literally.

Tonks sighed and left the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey could only stand to have her around for so long before she shooed her away from all the breakable bottles and vulnerable patients. It wasn’t Tonks’ fault, she just always seemed to be tangled up in her own limbs. She would go to walk and suddenly there would be that all too familiar realization that something had snagged on something else and then she would be tumbling down, usually bringing whatever was nearby with her. Crash, bang, snap and clatter were the sounds she lived with and the sounds she dreaded.

She scuffed a booted toe on the stone floor and found herself lying on her back staring at the ceiling in despair. She was a mess; the laughingstock of the Order, despite how well she did in actual combat. No wonder she couldn’t get a date -- no man wanted to be killed accidentally while trying to dance with her.

Hermione’s face appeared in the circle of her vision, bending down to peer atks wks with a kind smile.
Hermione was taller than she had been, though not as tall as Harry had gotten over the last few years. Her hair was still bushy but she had it clipped to within an inch of its life now. Her warm eyes were set in a more mature face and Tonks was amazed how much change could happen in three years.

“Morning, Tonks.”

“Morning, Hermione.” Tonks replied glumly. Hermione braved the dangers and ndednded a hand to the prostrate Auror. Tonks was hauled to her feet with deft skill brought on by years of practice.

“You look down.” Hermione commented as Tonks fell into step beside her.

“I am.” Prodded by Hermione’s sympathetic glance, Tonks continued. “I’ll never find a bloke if I can’t keep from killing him on the first date. I fall all over everything!” Hermione nodded sagely.

“You need to slow down, Tonks. You are always so eager and enthusiastic to do things that you just outrun yourself.”

“My mother always says that.” Tonks admitted sadly. “I just don’t know how.”

“How about studying a martial art? Tae Kwon Do or Aikido or something; they’re great for co-ordination and balance.” Tonks looked at the younger girl with a big grin.

“You really are brilliant! That a fantastic idea!” Tonks ran off in a rush, ready to find nearnearest class.

Hermione watched the Auror dart away with a wince, her knowledge of the older woman allowing her to see the likely outcome: a large crash and bang and then Tonks’ voice cursing quietly. With a sigh, Hermione turned and continued on her way to the Hospital Wing.

She trotted into the room with a happy smile; Ron would be released today and she had all his homework assignments ready for him. A strangely familiar figure stopped her in her tracks. Professor Quirrell? Wasn’t he dead? Hermione had been on the other side of the field from Harry at the end, dueling Narcissa Malfoy so she had no clue what all had happened.

Harry had muttered something about being glad Dumbledore had been nearby and how it wasn’t a big deal and that was all. Hermione now had a burning desire to pin the black-haired boy to a wall and tickle him until he gave.

She wandered on to where Ron was sitting, surrounded by flowers and chocolate frogs and her face brightened to a happy smile.

Ian woke hours later to see his least favorite person in the whole world standing over him.

“Hello, Snape.” He muttered.

“Quirrell.” Snape had sneering down to an art form. Some people could radiate disdain or loathing but only Snape could put whole sentences into his sneers. This sneer plainly said ‘why are you still alive and can we change that?’

“I see you survived.” Ian would never have Snape’s facility with a curled lip, but he had weary resignation down pat.

“What do you remember?” Snape could also interrogate with a fine disregard of anyone’s feelings. It was a gift, Ian thought wryly.

“Last thing I remember is going into the forest, looking for whatever creature was haunting the place.” The patient, long-suffering tone always managed to infuriate Snape, so Ian used it with great relish.

“Hmm. So you say.” Snape was almost as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody so Ian wasn’t particularly surprised by the palpable suspicion radiating off the other man.

“Veritaserum whenever you like, Snape.” He sighed; the stuff was tasteless and so he didn’t mind drinking it. It was just that Snape could never be trusted not to ask a few extra questions, usually embarrassing ones. He really hadn’t wanted Snape to know he had slept with ‘Boo-Boo Bear’ until he was sixteen. Still, better that than watching him glare all through every meal and give him the hairy eyeball every time they passed in the halls.

Snape could find no answer to his offer, so he swept by with a huff and a glare. Ian sighed again, turned over and went back to sleep. Dealing with Snape was always so exhausting.