It was the apples. Somehow he learned that she loved apples, and all through that winter, there was always an apple by her plate at every meal. Andromeda would look up, confused that there were no other apples in the entire Great Hall, and the Mudblood would be standing there, smiling cheekily and nodding. Andromeda would carefully put the apple in the middle of the table, where anyone might take it, and sat down to her own plate.

It was highly impertinent, of course, and for the first week, she would put the apple down and ignore it. There came a night, though, when none of the choices at lunch appealed to her. She looked at the apple and then looked at the Mudblood. It was enough to make her wonder if she was in league with the House-elves. Her stomach rumbled. She looked hopefully at the table, hoping for something else, and finally decided. She picked up the apple, and Tonks leaned over at his seat to see what she would do.

She couldn't simply bite into it and eat it. Not with him watching this way. It was too personal, too intimate. She forced her hand to stop trembling and picked up her knife. She peeled the apple and cut it in half. There. Now it didn't look quite so much like what he'd left on the table, so she ate it. It was delicious. She didn't look at Tonks again, but dabbed at her lips with her napkin and left for her afternoon classes.

They were practicing spells involving rhythmic movements, upon which many household spells were based, when he appeared at her shoulder. "I saw the way you did that," he said. "It was as if you were undressing it, and then you smiled in delight as you took the first bite. You sucked on it a little when you started on the second half."

Andromeda was outraged. Boys didn't talk to her this way. It was too much like… like… Her face scrunched up. "I just ate it!"

"Yes, you just peeled it, and ate it, and I would love to be in the position of that apple sometime."

"Find me a knife, Mudblood, and we'll do it here and now," she hissed.

He answered with a laugh. "I can arrange something much more private, love. Just you, and me, and your luscious mouth."

She managed to ignore him for several days. When there was another apple by her breakfast plate, she looked at it with narrowed eyes, and then took her knife, stabbed it straight through the core of the fruit and into the table. Paying no attention to the audible gasp that went through the room, she sat down and poured herself some tea. The porridge looked like they'd made it her favorite way, and the toast was perfect. It would be a good day.


The apples kept coming. It appeared she couldn't escape him forever. One night as she was walking through the dungeons on the way to Slytherin, when he was suddenly walking next to her. "So when are we having that date?"

"We're not having a date, Mudblood."

"Of course not. I wouldn't dream of taking you anywhere, just your mouth. I dream about your mouth, and what I wonder if it can do, all the time."

Somehow, while she sputtered at the indignity of a boy talking to her about something so... so... sexual... he was guiding her away from the door to Slytherin. "Do you always talk like that?" she asked.

"Like what?"

"You know... You make everything sound like it happens in a bedroom."

He smiled knowingly. "I didn't say anything like that, love. Must be your mind that supplied the bedroom."

She spluttered again. "I did NOT! I don't have any business speaking about or even thinking-"

He stopped and put an arm around her. "Calm down, kitten. I was just teasing."

She pulled away. "I'm-I'm not-"

He looked around, and pointed at a door. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable, shall we?"

She shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He smiled. "You are touchy. What do you have against me?"

She looked at him in surprise. "You're a Mudblood," she said as if it answered all the world's questions.

He held up his hands. "All right, all right. I'm a Mudblood. We've established that. But everyone who takes the time to get to know me likes me, and there's a whole world I want to explore behind your lips."

Andromeda took a step backward. Was a boy actually talking to her like this? She knew all about romance, that men and women did things together, but no one ever acted as though it might happen to her. She bit her lip. She needed to turn the conversation somehow. "How did you do it?"

He smiled, and perhaps it was because he brought up the subject of lips, but she wondered what kissing him would be like. "How did I do what?"

"The apples. They're not in season, so there haven't been many, but you made sure I had one at every meal for a while, there."

"Do you trust me to show you?"

"Maybe."

"Come on." He led her back toward the stairs and then to a still life portrait of fruit. "Here, tickle the pear."

"What?" Why did everything he said have to sound like that?

He reached over and took her books from her hands. "Do you see the pear in the portrait? Tickle it."

Andromeda reached to snatch her books back, but his look was almost a dare now, so she traced a fingertip along the surface of the pear. It flinched and giggled, but then there was a door handle. She gasped and looked up at her companion.

"Go ahead, open it," he said. The look in his face was still a dare.

Sighing, and wondering how she'd got into this situation, she walked through and found herself in a kitchen. "Miss Andromeda Black!" said a squeaky little voice. "Miss Black comes to visit us!"

She was quickly surrounded by House-elves, each of whom wanted to tell her what an honor it was to be visited by a member of the House of Black. Looking up, she saw what was almost a natural smile on the face of Ted Tonks. "I told them what I wanted, and then I told them whom it was for. They were only too eager to do something nice for you."

"I'm no one special."

"You belong to a prestigious family, and you treat them kindly and politely. I discovered they love you."

Andromeda shook her head. There was no reason to stay in the kitchen, so she moved back toward the door, but the elves seemed so sad that she promised she would return soon. "I had no idea," she said when they were back in the hallway.

"You have quite an effect on a lot of people," Tonks said quietly.

"You're almost like a real person when you're like this," she observed. Then she realized that might sound like a personal remark and blushed dark red. "I'm sorry, I mean-"

He chuckled. "Don't apologize. I think I know what you mean."

They got close to Slytherin again. Andromeda grabbed her books and turned to go, but Tonks was faster. "Wait just a second." He leaned down, and she stepped back. He stepped closer, and she was against the wall with no where to go. He touched his lips to hers. It wasn't a quick peck. There was softness and a pressure, and then just the slightest bit of damp as he backed away. "I knew it," he said gently. "Your lips are amazing. We'll have to do more."

Feeling suddenly petulant, she answered, "No we don't." She was pretty sure they didn't have to, although she found herself wanting to, very much. What was that swimmy feeling in her chest?

"No, we don't," he agreed with that cheeky grin, "but I'm going to hope for the next time, anyway, love. Sweet dreams."


He was in the hallway again two nights later. He teased her into learning a little more about kissing. At that point, she discovered that he must be getting apples for himself. They got into a pleasant routine, and Andromeda decided that kissing was a very enjoyable way to spend her time. She wondered what it would be like with the suitable Slytherin suitor she would one day have.

Then there were several nights when she didn't see Tonks at all. She wondered where he could be, but had no intention of seeking him out. No one could be that interested in a Mudblood, after all. Then, just as she was getting used to going straight from the library to the common room, he turned up again.

"Did you miss me?"

Andromeda stopped, turned, and looked him up and down. Then, with her nose in the air, she started walking again. "Of course not. It's nothing to me if a Mudblood pays attention to me."

"I didn't think so."

She glanced sideways out of the corner of her eye. "Since you bring it up, where have you been?"

"Richmond."

"Richmond?" It wasn't terribly far from Scotland, but surely he didn't leave the grounds of Hogwarts!

"Rheims."

He was having her on. She decided to ignore him.

"Rwanda?"

She really didn't care, did she? She sighed, and rolled her eyes, trying to appear bored.

"All right, you got me. I was spending some time with a friend from Ravenclaw. All R's, see?"

"A friend in Ravenclaw. You have a friend in Ravenclaw."

"Oh, yes, I was…" he paused as though not sure what to say… "working on a project, with my friend from Ravenclaw."

"It's nothing to me."

"It's something to me."

"It's nothing to me, just as you are nothing to me."

"That's fine, but we can have fun together, right?" He stopped, tugged her arm to stop her, too, and then leaned over to kiss her.

"I-I suppose."

He smiled and led her to a quiet hallway. Taking her books from her, he set them on the floor and then put his hands under her chin. "I've wanted to do this properly all week," he whispered. Then the kisses started, and Andromeda had to admit to herself that she had missed this. She barely noticed when his arms went around her, didn't even notice when her own hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck. It was very pleasant.

When they stopped, he licked his lips and smiled at her. "I should go to Richmond more often, if this is how you're going to greet me."

It sounded like he thought he owned her. She backed away and snatched out of his grasp. "I told you, Mudblood. It's nothing to me," she hissed. Looking around, she found her books, swept them up, and stalked to her common room.

It didn't keep her from kissing him the next night. The night after that, he began to explore the front of her robe. It was thrilling and seemed harmless, so she allowed it. She even let him unfasten her robe, leaving just her silk blouse between his hands and the skin that she knew was turning very pink with so much attention. She drew the line when he fingered the buttons of her blouse.

"I can't," she whispered, pulling away and snatching up her books.

"Aw, come on, Dromeda! I know they must be amazing."

"My sister calls me a cow." She winced. How could she let the Mudblood hear anything so personal?

"That thin little stick who's still waiting to fill out her underwear?"

"Don't talk about her that way!"

He put his hands out placatingly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it as it came out. I just meant… I like your body."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think I'm ready for that."

He tugged a curl that had worked out of her braid during the day, or perhaps more recently. "OK, Dromeda, I'll wait. I know it will be worth it."

"Don't call me that," she tossed over her shoulder as she walked toward Slytherin.

She went up to her room and got ready for bed. She opened her trunk and worked the catch to a secret compartment. One afternoon last summer, she'd escaped from the rest of her family and made a few purchases on her own. This particular item was silver-grey and lacy. It was much more attractive than the plain cotton her mother obtained for her. Perhaps it was time to wear the lace… not that it was for the Mudblood, of course. No boy or man had ever looked twice at her before the apples started coming. It was simply important for a Slytherin to show her assets to their best advantage.

Wasn't it?


She didn't worry too much when she didn't see Tonks for a few days, although she wore the lace on the days she would normally expect to see him. It wasn't because he was going to do anything special about it, of course. The lace had nothing to do with him.

She was wearing it one evening when she came down the stairs and overheard two boys talking. One of them had a voice she recognized well. It had to be her cousin Sirius.

"I can't believe you got Marjorie Wilson! I've heard she's pretty careful."

The other voice was unmistakably the Mudblood's. "A bloke just has to know how to pick his moment. Avery was a prick, she was miserable, and it was easy enough."

"Well, you won the contest, Tonks. You shagged one girl from each house. Here are the two hundred galleons." There was a loud clink as if a large money bag was shaken.

"Thanks, mate. It's a pleasure doing business."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "I'm sure you had the most pleasure."

Tonks's laugh echoed down the hallway that went toward the Hufflepuff Common Room.

Sirius came around toward the stairs. Andromeda straightened her spine. "Good evening, cousin. You're a bit below your usual place. Or did your upper-strata friends realize you're a Slytherin after all?"

Sirius chuckled. "I just had business down here, Andie. I'm headed back to where I belong, now."

"You should hurry. You don't want to be caught out after curfew."

"Such familial concern brings a tear to my eye," he said from the landing above her.

Andromeda looked around the common room until she found the face that could answer her question. "Hey, Reggie." She sat next to him.

"Hi, Andie."

"I just overheard Sirius, and can you explain something?"

"Maybe. I don't have much to do with him when we're at school."

"He was talking about some sort of a contest… a shagging contest?"

Regulus blushed. "Aw, Andie, you know…"

"How does a person win the contest?"

He squirmed, but she put a firm hand on his arm. He looked away. "He has to shag a girl from each of the four houses. Sirius and his friends said they'd give the first wizard who did that two hundred galleons."

She tried not to let her disgust show on her face. "I see. Well, now I understand. Thanks, Reggie."

"Sure, Andie."

That was that, then. Tonks must have only been interested in her to round out his contest. He'd kissed four other girls, he'd touched them all just as he'd touched her, and he'd done things with them that she hadn't let him do with her. It was a close thing, and she was better off having avoided it. She undressed and got ready for bed. She held up her lace underthings and pondered them. Perhaps she should burn them. No, it was unnecessary. He'd never seen her in them, and she liked the way she felt when she wore them. They had nothing to do with him after all.