AN: I am not Helen Fielding or JK Rowling, so stop trying to sue me. I had just finished reading Edge of Reason

Sunday 30th January

8st 12, firewhiskys: 4 (v. bad, especially has not set out to evening with particular Mr Potter yet), calories: 3800 (mostly Chocolate Frogs), things done in order to prepare for outing with Mr Potter, e.g. wash hair, shave legs, pick out outfit: 0.

5.05pm: Bloody hell. Who's idea was this anyway? Why do these things keep happening to me? One moment I am escorting Harry to Grimmauld Place and the next he is inviting me to The Leaky Cauldron for a "talk" about... about... well, did not actually catch that part, as was too interested in imagining Mr Potter as a gigolo. AHH! DOING IT AGAIN! STOP! STOP!

5.09pm: Why do these abnormal thoughts come into head? Surely, cannot be a pedophile? NO! No. Definitely not. Maybe am mentally subnormal, like Aunt Bella.

Anyway, Harry was feeling sad about Sirius, as was I. He was the gem of the Order, until he seduced my ex-lover, Remus. Grr. Grrrrr. Do not know what happened, was telling Harry if there was anything we could do for him, then he is telling me to meet him in the Leaky Cauldron at 8. 30pm. Is it just me, or is Sunday a strange night for a date? No, this is not date. Am not cougar or pedophile. Harry only sixteen. Young, vulnerable whippersnapper who just needs a gentle hand to... to... Mmm. NO! STOP!

If this isn't a date then WHY am I obsessing? Just a talk with cousin's godson. Calm, calm. Will look at Witch's Weekly to calm down. Yes. Calm.

5.30pm: Have to meet Boy Wonder in two hours and a half but cannot think of anything to wear! What hair to have? Shiny burst conker brunette? No, too simple. Platinum blonde? Ahhh, no. Too Malfoy. AHAHA! I know! Am genius.

6.00pm: There! Have showered, shaved legs, plucked eyebrows and painted nails. Hair is now long, curly and dark red. Everybody always fancies people who look slightly like their parents. Perhaps Harry will be sad at memory of dead mother? Nooo, Ginny had red hair. Better not change eyes to green. Blue? Yellow? No, clashing. Hmmm.

6.25pm: FUCKING HELL! Was making coffee to calm self when tipped it all over expensive designer button-down shirt-dress. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. What am I going to wear? All possible clothes in wash. AHAHA! Remember am witch. Can use spell to clean. Oooh, owl.

6.32pm: Was Hermione. Asking if she and Gin can come over as want to discuss her problem with Ron. Honestly, do not think I can deal with all these young whippersnappers. They are in their first flush of youth and already they are getting serious when they just don't want to be. Really.. When self was sixteen was raving every night with Muggles and popping pills. Then again, no war was going on. Hm.

6.38pm: Looking in the mirror realise shirt-dress is a tad short. Do not want Harry to think I am coming onto him. Or do I? No, will wear stylish black leggings and suede boots to make self less sluttish. Or does Harry want me to be sluttish? Stop it!

6.41pm: Must have inherited sewer-like mind from father, as mother has never exhibited anything quite so ghastly. Ooh, doorbell.

7.33pm: Was Hermy and Gin. When I opened the door Gin stared at my hair and said, quite plainly "Tonks, why do you try so hard to be 'down with the kids'?"

Am not so sure about red hair now, even though is a different shade to Gin's. She is a ginger ninja, whilst I am fiery red head. Is big difference.

Anyway, Hermy stacked me up with mascara, as cannot make trip to High Street because of war. Hermy gets them from "Boots". Surely, a shop called Boots would sell shoes and boots and things? Apparently they just sell shampoo, make up, healthcare, etc, etc. Maybe should design a new image for them. Shampoo? Powder? Lipstick? Should stick with Boots, actually.

Gin was raving on, giving me advice in manner of her being my Sunday School teacher/mother and I her promomiscuous young daughter.

"If he tries anything on, you detatch. No, no hear me, Tonks. Detatch. Get out of there. Seriously, I have dated Harry. He is a young boy, he gets seriously over-excited at anything. Avoid looking him in the eyes, he might take it the wrong way..."

Hermy was rolling her eyes and saying things like "Gin, please. This isn't even a date. Harry just wants to talk to Tonks about Sirius. Isn't that right, Tonks?"

"Yeees..."

They both stare at me.

"That is right, isn't it?"

"Tonks?"

Well. Was not anything big, I said, but he had a certain lustful look in his eye as he asked me.

Gin and Hermy went into through-analysing mode.

"What was it like? Dark? Bright? How did he say it?"

"Where were his hands at the time?"

"Are you going to go forward with it? I mean, it is legal,"

"But you're meant to be looking after him, you're an Auror!"

Then, they both stopped and, in perfect unison, said the unholy words:

"Do you fancy him?"

Honestly, it sounded so childish that I went red.

"Well, er...I dunno," They looked so happy at my befuddlement. Why? Why? "I mean... he isn't really what he used to be, er, a skinny little boy... Quidditch, you know... Seeker, his legs and hips would be... er... strong and, er, muscled..." Just then, I knew I had said too much.

"Aaaah! Tonks, you little trollop!" cried Ginny gleefully.

"Goodness, I – I... well." stuttered Hermy. "You do make him seem rather attractive, even without his Chosen One status."

"Oi!" said Gin, pouring us all another Firewhiskey. "I fancied him without his "status".

Was feeling all dreamy and gooey and warm, daydreaming about Harry being my sexual and physical slave, doing the washing-up, the laundry, and worshipping self like Dream Sex Goddess. Then, reality came back like a big, wet fish.

"I can't date Harry! Like you said, Hermy, I'm meant to be looking after him, he's weak and..." I said, putting down my drink, before Gin interrupted.

"Just shag him then. What's the harm? And besides, you haven't had anyone since Remus."

"Ginny!" said Hermy, outraged. "Tonks can't just shag Harry and leave him!"

"Yes she can! Men do it to her all the time!"

"Er..." I said, surely that isn't true...

"Turn the other cheek," said Herm primly. "And Harry hasn't done anything to Tonks; why should she take advantage of him?"

"She wouldn't be taking advantage of him though! She'd be giving him a treat..."

They went on for a full nine minutes and twenty-eight seconds before they left, throwing me advice and jungle red lipstick.

7.50pm: Aaah, have plenty of time to relax before Apparating to Leaky Cauldron. Might read some more of Hairy Snout, Human Heart and extend my vocabulary a little.

7.54pm: Fuck, FUCK! Cannot find handbag! Aha, will summon it! Am genius.

7.56pm: Gaaah! Cannot find wand, have looked everywhere. Where is it? WHERE?

7.59pm: Have found handbag but keys are not there and neither is wand. Where are they? Bollocks.

8.05pm: Shit, am late. Cannot find wand or keys. AHA! Have remebered that I left wand in jeans. Huzzah!

8.16pm: Ruddy hell, why do I own so many pairs of similar looking jeans? Why? Why? Maybe can do non-wand spells... No, does not work. DAMMIT!

8.22pm: Had to search through what seemed like millions of pairs of identical jeans before located wand. Now, to find keys. Accio keys! ACCIO! Yes! Have keys! Huzzah! But so late. Now can Apparate.

Monday 31st January

8st 9 (shagging new exercise programme), possibility of there being a nice, lovely, normal, platonic friendship with Harry Potter out of ten: 0. possibility of me being a pedophile and a cougar out of ten: 11.

5.12am: Mmmm.

5.15am: Lovely time.

5.20am: Bloody bed was uncomfortable though. Stupid Tom.

5.21am: Apparated outside the door to Leaky Cauldron and found Harry, looking all worried at a table in the corner. Came in, smiling at him, about to apologise for my abominal lateness, when his eyes lit up in surprise, he smiled back, but wider (was delighted, thought he was v. v. happy to see me), and then he said:

"Mum?"

5.24am: V. bad. Made self look like Lily Potter. Made Harry believe I was Lily Potter, his dead mum. Wonderful.

"Oh God, Tonks, I'm so sorry..."

"Nnnnnnfine..." I said, changing my hair to pink.

"It looked really nice – honest," he said.

"Mmmmnnnnnnn."

He did genuinely look very embarassed, his pale face flushed pink reminded me of... Mmm. Ag.

5.29am:

"So, Tonks..." he said, glugging his butterbeer.

"Mmmm?"

"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come here, right?"

"Mmmmmm..." I said, darting my eyes up for a second to look at him. He looked all concerened, like a nice, kind but disturbingly sexy doctor-like person, George Clooney, for example, but not as distinguished or old.

"I, er, made some realisation after... well, after Sirius died,"

Oh my God, he's gay. He's gay and he's going to ask me to be his fag hag.

"Mmmm?" I said intelligent, cleverly participating into the conversation.

"I broke up with Ginny... you know?"

"Mmmmm."

"Well, Tonks, I left her 'cause... well, there's someone else I like."

"Mm?" Oh God, he's going to say Ron. Or Remus. Oh dear LORD – DUMBLEDORE? No, surely...

"I, er, I like you, Tonks."

Was overly pleased and excited at realisation, then remembered Harry is young boy who doesn't know what he's talking about. Obviously.

"Harry," I said, in a firm motherly matron kind of way. "You don't like me, you're just confused,"

"Tonks," he said, equally as firmly, crossing his arms and leaning them onto the table in a seductive manner, his eyes sparkling. "I'm not a child."

And he leaned across and kissed me! So, am not pedophile. Was subjected to falling into Mr Potter's arms and being carried upstairs and... ravaged.

5.34am: Oooh, Harry has just woken up. He is lovely. V. sexy, with his long, lithe... ooh.

8.02am: Mmmm.

End.