The Clock
by lamardeuse






Warning:  Rated PG for one mild swear word.



For Rebecca, who requested some Tonks/Ginny and wrote the first line.








“Anybody home?”

Ginny looked up at the sound of Tonks’ softly voiced question. She turned away again, contemplating the valley surrounding the Burrow.

“Your mother was in a right state after you left. I thought about Stunning her.”

“She’s already bloody stunned,” Ginny muttered.

A hand gently stole through Ginny’s short curls. “You have to give her time, love.”

“Time,” Ginny scoffed, enduring the touch rather than leaning into it. “That’s what this is all about. I’m damned if I’m going to give her any more time. Either she fixes this now, or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” Tonks murmured. “You could as easily cut your mother out of your life as you could saw off your left arm.”

“I’m good with a saw. I fixed the kitchen table, didn’t I?”

Tonks winced slightly. “Um.”

“Well, all right, you had to perform a spell to make the legs the proper length again, but—are you trying to put me off?”

“Never,” Tonks avowed solemnly, holding a hand to her heart.

“The point is,” Ginny said, “I won’t stand for it any longer. She’s going to do for you what she did for Hermione. What it just took her five bloody seconds to do for Violet.”

“You can’t compare us,” Tonks said softly. “Hermione’s been part of the family for ages. And Violet’s her granddaughter. Blood is thicker than water—that’s elementary Potions.”

Ginny opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Tonks continued. “All right. I know. We’ve been together for over a year, and yes, you could argue it isn’t fair that your mother didn’t add me to the clock.” She chuckled. “After all, Bill’s girlfriends appear and disappear there with alarming regularity. But there’s no fairness in the way mothers see their children—it’s not a democratic process. You’re the youngest; you’re her only girl; and you are with me. And no matter how you might hate it, I am not what she envisioned for you when she held you in her arms for the first time, as she’s doing with Violet now.”

Tonks took a deep breath. “So. We had a good chat after you stomped out, your mum and I—after I threatened to Stun her, that is. And as I listened to her, I realized that she needs more from me—from us. She wants to understand this, but it’s not easy for her.” Another breath. “So I—erm—decided to simplify things. Put it in terms she’d understand.”

Ginny turned to Tonks, confusion written on her face, as Tonks pulled a small box from her pocket and held it out to her.

“Wh—” Ginny gasped as she opened the box and revealed a pair of platinum rings, clearly of the finest goblin-made quality, overlaid with gold filigree depicting ancient Celtic runes.

“I’m already on the clock,” Tonks whispered against Ginny’s hair. “Whatever you decide. It’s not about that, or your mum. I’ve been carrying these around for ages, waiting and watching, afraid of what you’d say, afraid of what you wouldn’t. But when you fought for me, I knew I had to give it a try. Because I don’t want to waste any more time, either.”

Ginny stared at her for a period of perhaps ten seconds; to Tonks, however, it was at least a millennium.

And then Ginny smiled, and time, along with the rest of the universe, resumed its normal pace.


End






July 2004


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