Tonks stepped into the room. It was empty, apart from Harry.
"They've all left," he said. "It's just you and me."
"So," she said with a slow smile. "Just you and me." She took a step towards him. They were just a few feet apart now. His green eyes were fixed on hers.
"What would you like for your birthday, Harry?" Her voice was sultry. Low and sweet. "I can be anything you want." Her hair was bushy and brown, Hermione was looking at him.
"No, Tonks." His voice was firm and commanding. "I don't want them. I want you." He moved closer. "I want you and only you." His eyes didn't move from hers. She could drown in those eyes. She was drowning in those eyes.
"I want you as you really are. No fancy hair, no funny faces." He took her hand in his. "Just you."
She was suddenly nervous, frightened even. She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out.
Her hair was jet black, straight, and fell easily to the bottom of her back. It framed her heart-shaped face with its big dark eyes and soft mouth under her cute button nose. She was a few inches taller now, still slim with her long legs, but her breasts were a little larger and her hips a little wider.
"Nymphadora," said Harry softly. She was beautiful.
Her face took on the beginnings of a scowl. His fingers touched her cheek, stroked down to her chin. Soothing her.
"No." His single word stopped what she was about to say. "When you are like this, when we are completely alone, and you feel totally safe, you are Nymphadora."
She was still uncertain, unconvinced.
"I don't need all those other girls, my sweetheart." His voice was gentle, persuading. "I want the girl I love, the girl who loves me. Nymphadora." He touched her cheek again. "You."
He leant forward, his lips softly touching hers in a gentle kiss. Her arms came up around him, circled his head as she gave herself up to him.
"Yes, Harry," she breathed. "I'm yours."