It was precisely six o'clock in the morning when Nymphadora Tonks's eyes sprang open.

She was staring up at the ceiling of her four poster, her eyes wide and turquoise-blue. She listened to the sound of silence all around - a thick and heavy silence that could only mean that it was snowing outside. She sat up, her violently pink hair stuck up in places, tangled and unruly from her long night's sleep. Gingerly, she stuck her feet out from beneath her blankets and hoisted herself up between her bed and another girl's, whose name was was Harriet, and hurried to put on her robes, kick her feet into slippers, and duck out of the Hufflepuff common room and out into the corridor. She skid on the flagstone steps in her slippers, and rushed up the hall to the stairs and up two flights, paused to breathe at the top of that one and panted exaggeratedly as an irritated looking Ravenclaw came by, then ran the rest of the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady's portrait shook her head, "Nymphadora Tonks --"

"Don't call me Nymphadora," she said automatically, "It's just Tonks!"

" -- I don't care if you do know the password," the Fat Lady went on, ignoring the fact that she was being interrupted by raising her voice to be heard over Tonks's exasperated tone, "You're not going in the Gryffindor Common Room again."

"Why not?" Tonks demanded, whiny.

"Because, you're not a Gryffindor!" the Fat Lady said pointedly.

"But just for a moment, I only need to get --"

"I said no," the Fat Lady interrupted.

"But he's just --"

"No," she sing-songed.

"But --"

The Fat Lady glared.

Tonks sighed. "Alright, fine." She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it, her pink hair getting even more messed up as it dragged against the wallpaper, and she hugged her long legs with their knobbly knees to her chest.

The Fat Lady pressed herself as close to her frame as she could, trying to see where Tonks had gone to. "Where are you? What are you doing?" she demanded.

Tonks said, "Waiting."

The Fat Lady clucked. "Wait where I can see you, then."

"What? Is waiting against the rules, too?"

The Fat Lady answered, "Nymphadora Tonks, I --"

"Don't call me Nymphadora!" Tonks replied, haughtily.

The Fat Lady hooted in exasperation, then, "Go back to your own common room, Miss. Tonks!" Her voice was stern and indignant. "You can see Mr. Weasley in the dining hall downstairs at breakfast."

"But --"

"Good day!" she sang.

"But --"

"I said good day!" The Fat Lady was stern. "Don't make me ask my friends to go and fetch Mr. Filch," she waved her arms at the other frames, though she wasn't sure if Tonks was even looking to see the gesture. Darn whoever it was that had put her in a thick quilted frame!

Tonks rolled her eyes and got up. "Oh alright! Alright!" She stood up and dusted off. "I'm going away, are you happy?" and she started off down the corridor. She could feel the Fat Lady's eyes following her, "See, look. Here I am... Leaving."

The Fat Lady snuffed her nose in good riddance as Tonks disappeared around the corridor, and she shook herself, settling in for a snooze, closing her eyes... Footsteps on the corridor carpet made her eyes open. Standing before her was Bill Weasley. The Fat Lady's eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

"Morning," Bill said, nodding, his voice low and... funny.

The Fat Lady eyed him carefully. 

"Password is --"

"How did you get out of the common room?" the Fat Lady demanded, "I would remember you going out."

"You wouldn't," Bill replied.

The Fat Lady worried he ought to go to the infirmary instead of inside the common room. His voice was so much lower than usual, that certainly he was in need of some pepper up potion before he went and got a full blown flu.  Nasty things, germs. You bring them into a school and next you know you've got beds filled with sick, sneezy, snotty children. 

Instead of saying that so, though, the Fat Lady said, "Of course I would remember. I say good evening and good day to every person that passes through..."

Bill replied, "You were..." he paused. Then, nodding at the violet wine glasses that were tipped on the ledge before the Fat Lady. They lay beside empty wine bottles.

The Fat Lady glanced down and flushed. "Oh."

"Yeah," Bill said, nodding. "Drunk as Auntie Muriel at Boxing Day."

He watched, smirking, as the Fat Lady rather desperately tried to pick it all up, sweeping her palm over the table the glasses lay on, knocking them across and into another painting, where it knocked the head of another portrait. 

"Oh dear," she gasped.

Bill pointed, "You've missed a spot, there... right there... little further..." he said as the Fat Lady stretched her arm... 

The portrait hole swung opened as the Fat Lady leaned as far forward as she could go, and Bill hurriedly ran inside. "Thanks!" he shouted back over his shoulder.

Bill Weasley hurried across the Gryffindor common room and up the stairs toward the boys' dormitories. He passed himself on the stairs, but luckily Bill was too sleepy to really notice much, yawning a good morning to himself as he passed by.

"Close one," Bill muttered in Tonk's voice.

Bill hurried to the third year dormitory door, didn't bother with knocking or anything, and went inside. He looked about quietly - five beds, all five with sleeping occupants. Only one was as messy and unkempt as if it had been blown up by a thousand bombardas, though. A broom stick leaned against the footboard of that bed, and the trunk, which was wide opened, had dirty Quidditch robes hanging out of it.

Bill leaped at that bed, landing with a FWUMP upon it's occupant.

There was a loud shout and a good deal of flailing limbs and Charlie Weasley rolled over, crying out and flipping right off the bed. His eyes popped opened to see Bill looking down at him, grinning from the mattress. "Bill!" Charlie groaned sleepily, "Whadda'ya doin'?"

"Wutshappnin'?" came a voice from across the room.

"Tryin' to lie in over here!" came another.

Bill's grin was changing though, and his flaming red hair was turning slowly pinker and pinker, and he laughed at the look on Charlie's face - a look of realization slowly dawning upon him. 

"Tonks!" Charlie groaned.

She was laughing. "Weasley, the look on your face was something else, something else indeed." She toppled sideways, giggling.

Charlie struggled to untangle himself from the blankets he'd rolled off the bed knotted up in. "What are you doing in here? Did you do the Bill thing again? You know the Fat Lady's bound to catch on at some point..."

Tonks giggled, "But wouldn't it be funny if she caught on and denies the real Bill access, and he's dragged off to McGonagall and Sprout and told to change back into me and he can't because he's actually Bill and --" her laughter doubled.

Charlie couldn't help it. He laughed, too, at the thought of Bill's perplexed face if he were to have that problem, and the frustrated look McGonagall would have arguing with him if he would change back to Tonks or not.

Tonks pushed over as Charlie climbed back into the bed, throwing his balled up blankets to the foot of it, and laying next to her. "So why are you up here, then?" he asked, "Or was it just for the laugh of tricking the Fat Lady into thinking you were Bill?"

Tonks looked at him, her eyes changing from turquoise to brown as they met, and she grinned, "Today's the first day of holidays, Weasley! We get to go home and Christmas is coming. Mummy's bound to have loads of delicious things to eat. She's probably made pumpkin pasties and butterbeer cookies and roasted turkey and cranberry relish and loads and loads of potatoes." She shivered at the thought of it.

Charlie poked her stomach and laughed, "You'll grow five sizes."

"I'll just morph it off," she shrugged.

Charlie drew a deep breath, "Well my house will be a bit more chaotic than yours, I reckon, what with Ronny, Ginny, Fred, George, and Percy. Plus me and Bill. It's always so bloody loud. Percy's always losing his rat and Ron's always got everything covered in frog spawn and --"

"Yes but chaos only makes Christmas better," Tonks said wistfully, "Having all those people... a big family with loads going on... I wish I had brothers and sisters."

"You can have mine," Charlie offered. "Especially Ron and Ginny. Ronny's always trying to get into my things and Ginny's broken two of my model dragons. Tore the wings right off one of the Welshes."

Tonks replied, "Yes but there's nothing like a go at Weasley Quidditch in that back field of yours!" she said, eyes twinkling. "Blimey, even if I could get my mum and dad to play Quidditch, we'd be short like the entire team."

Charlie grinned, "You'd just be playing catch."

"Tell me about it!" Tonks exclaimed. "I dunno what my dad thinks is so fun about just tossing a normal ball back and forth like he does, but Merlin is he obsessed with it."

Martin Sassprout was standing at the foot of the bed suddenly, glowering at them. "Do you lot mind?" he asked, "Some of us are trying to sleep still."

"No it's quite alright, go on sleeping," Tonks said flippantly. 

Martin's eyes narrowed.

Tonks sighed. She looked at Charlie. "Hungry? We could go and get breakfast before the Hall gets too crowded. You can sit with me at Hufflepuff."

"Alright." 

They got up and Charlie pulled on his robes and grabbed his wand and they hurried out of the common room as Martin and the others thanked Merlin and waved their wand to close the curtains to stop the light from coming in. After all, the Hogwarts Express wasn't leaving Hogsmeade until eleven o'clock and what good was the holidays without having  good lie-in?