It was a cold December night and the wind was howling across the barren peaks of the Scottish mountains. The snow was piling high in the middle of a valley where an old castle was the sitting above a frozen lake. The sun had set hours ago and now darkness reigned as the clouds hid the moon and the stars.
Inside the castle, a young man named Harry Potter was fuming. The wizard was supposed to do his transfiguration homework but the book about conjuring animals had been set aside as the Gryffindor tried to measure how fucked magical Britain truly was. Disappearances became a regular thing and no one was safe. Even influential characters like Amelia Bones could not avoid gruesome fate at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The late head of the Magical Law Enforcement had been found executed in a most gruesome way and, if the rumours were to be believed, raped a dozen times. Professor Albus Dumbledore, the famous headmaster of Hogwarts, had tasked him with retrieving vital intelligence that could turn the war against the Dark Lord. Usually such tasks involved violence and attractive girls, at least according to these James Bond novels Hermione was fond of. Unluckily for him, he was not James Bond but just Harry Potter.
Dumbledore, of course, would rather sacrifice hundreds of lives than simply tie Slughorn to a chair and dose him with Veritaserum. It was one of many questionable decisions of the headmaster, whose love for secrets already cost him his godfather and nearly took his best friend's life as well. It's not like he would have to torture Slughorn or anything. One question and the potion master would be free to go.
Thinking about Dumbledore's questionable decisions brought back painful memories. The Battle at the Ministry had been a sobering experience. There were explosions everywhere, smoke, blood and spellfire. The Death Eaters had been holding back, only Dolohov resorted to lethal force. And still Sirius was dead, Ron, Ginny and Neville had been severely injured while Hermione barely survived. Unable to avenge his godfather Harry had at least made sure that the Russian Death Eater paid dearly for nearly killing his best friend. Consumed by a previously unknown fury the raven-haired teenager disregarded caution and unleashed a torrent of spells which only ended after an overpowered blasting curse broke through Dolohov's shield and decorated the Time Room with his entrails. Believing Hermione dead had been the worst moment of his life. Pure, gut-wrenching agony overcame Harry afterwards. Not because of what he did to Voldemort's follower. Frankly speaking, he didn't think twice about that. No, Harry felt absolutely horrible for nearly getting his friend killed. Sirius died in the battle but the way he had taunted his cousin, how he jumped out of cover only to stand directly in front of the Vail made Harry think that his godfather chose going out with a blaze of glory over slowly rotting away in his ancestral home, broken by Pettigrew, broken by Azkaban, broken by a year in Grimmauld Place. Still, had he had just listened to Hermione the whole disaster wouldn't have happened, they wouldn't even have been in England.
Ever since Harry felt strange around Hermione. He couldn't place the feeling but it was pleasant and maybe slightly distracting. It was not at all like his crush on Cho Chang, it was something entirely new. He didn't have the urge to run his hands over her admittedly nice curves and yet he noticed a strange protectiveness over his friend. To make things more complicated he was feeling another type of odd whenever he saw Dean Thomas with his girlfriend, similar to something crawling inside of him. That was definitely not normal.
He needed someone he could talk to. Normally Hermione would be his first choice. But since she was the problem and they were once again fighting over that bloody Potions book, he needed someone else he could talk to. Ron was also out of the question since he spent every waking moment with his hands on his girlfriend's curves. Not that he was not happy for his friend, if anything Harry was jealous of Ron for the fact that the redhead had someone who made him forget the ever looming war.
Harry shook his head and turned back to the half-forgotten essay and dipped his quill into an inkwell. But before writing a single word his focus drifted away once more. He also needed a date for the bloody Christmas party Slughorn was throwing. He was the chosen one, somehow supposed to save the wizarding world. Harry had no idea how he should accomplish that feat. But because the public had high expectations for him instead of aspirations to do something themselves everything he did was critically watched. Teen Witch Weekly ran a multi-piece series about him the Daily Prophet even ran commentaries on the Gryffindor Quidditch practices. Due the spotlight, going stag was not an option. Harry knew that he was not a very open person and if he went without a date he would spend ten minutes in a quiet corner before sneaking away and the Minister would once more complain about his lack of "moral building appearances".
Sadly his list of cute girls that didn't stare at his scar like it was a delicious steak was rather short. Katie Bell would have been nice company for the evening. She always had been a good friend although they did not spend much time together besides Quidditch. After the Goblet of Fire declared him the fourth champion the brunette chaser was one of the few who stood up for him. Somehow she managed to curse Ron, insult him in front of Snape, make an embarrassing remark about the size of his wand and land the redhead in detention for the entire incident back when they were not on friendly terms. But Katie was currently in St. Mungo after nearly dying to the cursed necklace she was imperiused to carry. It didn't help that Harry knew exactly who was responsible for his friend's fate and yet no one took action.
The other witch he considered was Luna Lovegood. While she was no classical beauty it was undeniable that Luna was cute. Combined with her kindness and understanding nature one would think that she was the perfect girlfriend. And yet Harry's relationship with her was anything but romantic. There was no fire whenever they touched, no burning lustful glances. They were simply two kindred spirits who lived through more than anyone should have to. At the moment he needed someone for a serious conversation and Luna was definitely not suited for this. While she was a great friend and Harry trusted the undeniably odd girl with his life he didn't need another riddle now. She made sense more often than not but her wisdom was well hidden behind tales of fantastic creatures.
The Gryffindor reflected that this year had left him with even fewer people to talk to. A change of perspective was what he needed right now but without the chasers and the twins, there was no one he trusted. Someone older, with more experience in life, would be perfect right now.
But the only adult whom Harry trusted died last summer. He had no one else. Technically Hermione was an adult too but she didn't count. She was special but somehow adults were supposed to be much older. Older than him at least. Then a realisation hit him. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. There was another person he could trust. Someone who made his summer so much more bearable. Someone who only technically was an adult.
"You look absolutely stunning in that dress," Harry remarked hoarsely as they walked through the empty corridors towards the room Slughorn arranged for his holiday celebration. His companion was wearing a short, close fitted dress which revealed far more skin than the magical world deemed acceptable. He knew that she picked her attire to see him flustered and that she also knew her plan was working.
"Tell me, why am I doing this again?"
"Because you are the only one I trust with this. I have no one else," Harry replied and flinched at how desperate that sounded.
"What about Remus?" she asked teasingly.
"Besides the fact that I won't turn up with a guy twice my age as my plus one? Lupin completely ignores me. The supposed best friend of my parents did never contact me. Outside of his teaching role I have not spoken to him more than ten words. When I was forced in the tournament Sirius helped me despite being a wanted man. Sure, it wasn't much but he did as much as he could short of sneaking into Hogwarts. But Remus did nothing. Same story last year. For a supposed honorary uncle he sure treats me nearly as bad as my real uncle," he spat bitterly.
"Sorry I couldn't do more about that. By the time the Department of Inheritances acknowledged your emancipation you were already at the Burrow."
"Don't be. You tried at least. It's not your fault Dumbledore left me there and stalled the Ministry," Harry retorted. Dumbledore, balancing several full-time jobs as well as the leadership of a civil war, had no qualms whatsoever to sacrifice a pawn or two to ensure his victory. And for Dumbledore Harry was just another pawn within the great scheme. Someone to be used and sacrificed if necessary. It might seem rational in the bigger picture but that didn't mean that he'd have to like it.
"I know. Still, I feel like I should have done more."
"You did more than anyone else. You talked to me when everyone else was ignoring me again. You thought me Occlumency. You decided to waste an evening by coming to this party. And did I mention that you look lovely tonight?" Harry said as he once more tried not to stare at the woman next to him. They had helped each other dealing with the Battle of the Ministry during the summer but that didn't mean that he was blind.
"Only three times so far," came the cheeky reply.
"You know Nym…"
"Don't call me Nymphadora," Tonks threw in, her hair switching from electric blue to a fiery red before both started laughing. At some point during the last summer, they reached an agreement that Harry was allowed to call her Nym in private and her usual reaction became an inside joke that made little sense yet made both of them smile.
"You are far less intimidating in a dress that switches its colour to match your hair," Harry quipped.
"I could be naked and you'd be trembling with fear. Besides, I can't stay mad in this dress. It ruins my terrifying reputation," Tonks pouted.
"You know, she-who-must-not-be-named, that I never imagined you wearing a dress and matching heels?"
"I like that name. And usually I prefer shorts. But I can't go to a wizard party in hotpants."
"And why not?" Harry teased. The memories of the witch next to him in such pants were indeed distracting and the cause for more than one cold shower after the last summer.
"Because I don't want to hang around fifty fat old guys with raging erections."
"Your outfit could have fooled me," he said and poked one of the many strips of her bare side the dress revealed.
"Believe me, it would have been much worse. So what exactly are we doing here?" Tonks asked as they rounded another corner on their way to Slughorn's clubroom.
"It's rather complicated but foremost I needed someone to talk to so the evening wouldn't be a total waste of time," Harry admitted.
"To talk?"
"Look, I have a lot going on right now and I need to get some of it off my chest. Dumbledore is giving me stupid tasks, the Minister sends me letters asking for my support with this or that while the Prophet calls me The Chosen One and expects that I can solve the Voldemort problem on my own. Usually, every death is blamed on me since I'm doing nothing to stop Riddle. I have this boring party to attend and why not use it to solve some issues. You are one of the few people I trust and the only one I can talk to about this. I need help figuring things out."
"So, what has your knickers in a twist?" Tonks wanted to know. Catching the hidden meaning in his words she quickly erected a privacy ward around them.
"I guess the biggest problem is Voldemort. Dumbledore wants to keep this secret but I know when I need help. Do you know what a Horcrux is?"
"Eh, should I?"
"Not really. The question was rhetorical," Harry explained lamely. "Ehm, anyway, a Horcrux is something that anchors part of your soul in this world. As long as you have one you turn into a fancy ghost when you die and can be brought back. That's what Voldemort did. Apparently, Slughorn told him something about them and now Dumbledore wants me to get that memory."
"And how should you do that? I swear the old man is getting more senile every day."
"Apparently Slughorn liked my mum. So now I have to suck up to him to get him talking," Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He didn't like using his parents for anything and yet Dumbledore did not leave any room for debate.
"Yeah, that's not going to happen. If one of the most powerful wizards since Merlin and second best Legilimens in Britain can't get that memory than you don't even have to try. And especially not by sucking up. Better not waste your time on that."
"But…"
"No buts Harry. Well, maybe I'll let you touch mine later but that's not the point now. You need to take a break. You have been fighting your entire life, whether it was Voldemort or those bloody Dursleys. So when we walk through that door forget Voldemort, Dumbledore's stupid tasks and the whole war. You earned yourself a break. We can deal with your problems tomorrow. Tonight it's just me and you. Slughorn paid for food and booze so let's have some fun," Tonks suggested to a red-faced Harry. Apparently thinking of her butt had that kind of effect on him. Frankly speaking, he didn't catch much of what she said after mentioning touching her backside.
"Somehow I doubt Slughorn will allow me to have fun," Harry mumbled darkly as they entered the room. Sure, the ceiling was covered in magical ice that somehow had snowflakes falling out of it and the large Christmas tree in the corner was delightfully decorated but still he felt like he just walked into a trap.
"Harry my boy, splendid to see you. And who is your lovely companion?" the Potions professor asked from right next to them before they could even attempt to disappear into the crowd.
"Good evening Professor Slughorn, meet Dora Tonks," Harry said and awaited his friend to complain about her name. Surprisingly she looked rather pensive for a moment before snapping back to reality.
"Good evening Professor."
"My my, I certainly don't remember you from any class. In which year are you dear?"
"Hufflepuff class of '92. I would be surprised if you knew me."
"Well Harry, I never knew you were into older women. Quite a catch you have there. She looks like a keeper. Enjoy the evening," the old teacher stage whispered and winked, unaware how close he just avoided being cursed. Had Tonks been a Veela the teacher would be dodging fireballs by now.
"Dora, forget that idiot," Harry attempted to calm his friend. Since she was not at all relaxing he figured that more words were needed. "You are a precious friend who helped me when I was in a bad spot. You are anything but a trophy to me, no matter what the others say. And you are not old."
"I know Harry, I hoped that I could go an evening without that shit but it was not meant to be. I really should be used to it by now," she huffed.
"You shouldn't have to get used to this."
"Yeah, tell that to the idiots. I just didn't expect that from a teacher. Well, besides Snape of course. He's just an arsehole."
"Come on, let's get something to drink. After all, he's paying the bill," Harry suggested.
"Have you ever tried a Caipi?" Tonks wanted to know, glad for the change of topic.
"Eh, no. What's that?"
"A cocktail. It's basically limes, sugar and Brazilian rum on ice. One of the few muggle drinks you'll get in the magical world."
"Am I allowed to drink it? It sounds like pretty hard stuff."
"Merlin kiddo I never thought a teenager would care about that. Are you telling me that you never had a drink?" Tonks asked in disbelief, even stopping on her way to the drink table.
"Nothing besides butterbeer."
She stared at Harry for ten seconds before rapidly blinking several times and mumbling a curse at the Dursleys.
"Helga's saggy tits. Harry you are supposed to have some fun in your life and between the Dark Lord and what you have been through I sometimes forget that you are just sixteen. Slughorn didn't put all that booze here just to decorate the table over there. Next thing you tell me that you have never been inside a broom closet with a pretty girl."
"Ehm, about that…"
"Fuck me sideways," Tonks groaned before pressing herself into Harry's side. "Are you playing for the other team?"
"What, no. But it's complicated. Well, not the boy thing, I like girls. But no one wants to date me. Everyone wants the bloody boy-who-lived. They want the bragging rights of being with THE Harry Potter. Two years ago they hated me before loving me. Last year it was hate again. And now I am drowning in candy laced with love potions. I only ever had one date and that ended disastrously," Harry defended himself, distracted by the rather sudden contact that left his arm between her breasts. Somehow during their time spent together the topic of relationships was never mentioned.
"That sounds awfully familiar. Everyone always was after me because I could be their living wet dream. Congratulations, by the way, you beat the average. It's been seven minutes and you haven't asked me to change anything. That makes this one of my better dates," Tonks said with a mixture of happiness and sadness. While she was a full-blooded tease it didn't mean she wanted to sleep with every guy or girl she came across.
Harry was about to point out that this was not a date when he realised the implications. Tonks had been a good friend and they spent a lot of time together during the last summer. She had been a ray of hope in his holiday prison. At some point, the platonic affection developed into something different, into a rather long-lived crush. And now she gave him an opening. It was time to do what he was best at; improvisation.
"Nym, you are one of the most amazing women I know. You are kind, funny and loyal to a fault. You tried to get me away from the Dursleys. You really care. Anyone who doesn't see that but only a pretty face is a fool. Besides, your usual looks are far more interesting than the twentieth girl trying to look like the Witch Weekly cover model."
"You sure know how to make a girl feel special," Tonks remarked only half sarcastically as she grabbed two orange glasses filled with a clear liquid and lots of ice.
"Cheers!"
The beverage tasted strange but good. It was sweet for a moment before the alcohol kicked in. Then sweet again when he got to the sugar at the bottom of the glass. But overall it was still pleasant and not painful.
"That's some good stuff," Harry admitted, having neither experience nor knowledge when it came to drinking.
"Not bad, but I make a better one."
"You can fix cocktails?"
"At least the basic ones. It's certainly easier than Snape's NEWT class."
"I'm still surprised that you managed that without blowing up the classroom," Harry quipped.
"Just because I'm a clutz does not mean that I can't brew a potion."
"You nearly burned down your kitchen while making noodles," Harry pointed out.
"That only happened three times and I really shouldn't have told you about that," Tonks pouted, adorably pushing out her lower lip. Harry retaliated by poking her side. This resulted in a tickling war certainly not befitting their age nor their location.
"Let's dance," Tonks suggested breathlessly after dodging Harry's finger for the twentieth time. Using his forward momentum and the alcohol's slight buzz she manoeuvred him into the base position for a waltz.
"I can't dance!"
"Neither can I. But it will be fun, you'll see."
Harry's groan of protest was ignored as Tonks dragged him to the dancefloor. Placing one of his hands back on her hip she started leading him across the floor.
It was nothing like the Yule Ball. Dancing there had been stiff and formal while here he was just randomly swaying with the music and simply avoiding stepping on her feet. Only eight other couples were dancing with them, everyone else just sat back, busy stuffing their faces.
"Thanks for coming with me here. Without you Slughorn would probably parade me around and insist on introducing me to everyone," Harry said quietly as the song ended. It had been far better than he expected. Apparently dancing was more enjoyable if you focused on your partner instead of staring at the girlfriend of the guy next to you. Also, the booze helped to take away some of the inevitable tension.
"Just so you know, I'm taking you to the next stupid ministry function I have to attend."
"As long as we actually get to dance and I don't have to deal with three hundred fans who want to have an autograph. I would never have thought that dancing could be fun," Harry admitted. He was sure that they were missing the tact and were not even aware of the proper steps but that was half the fun. Not caring about anything else, forgetting the war and the expectations for a moment.
"I agree. Especially when your partner is not groping you. Although that can be quite enjoyable in a more private setting," Tonks huskily whispered into his ear and Harry could feel his face heating up. He needed a comeback, quickly.
"I might take you up on that."
"Promises, promises," she replied and Harry was not sure who won that exchange but he had a feeling that it was not him.
The next song was a slower number and Tonks pulled him closer, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Tonks, when I called you Dora earlier you kinda froze. What's the story behind that?" Harry asked softly.
"You used to call me that," the metamorph said with a shaking voice.
"I can't remember that," he admitted. They talked a lot during the last summer, trying to cope with the debacle at the Ministry but not once did he use that nickname.
"Of course not, you were bloody one. Actually, it was more Doaaa than Dora but still. That brought back a couple memories."
"You knew me before?"
"It never came up? Guess I was too busy poking around in your head then. Mum used to babysit you a couple times. I don't remember a lot but I think we are the only ones who have a nude picture of the chosen one."
"Nude picture?" Harry stuttered.
"It was after your first birthday, dad bought an inflatable pool and since no one of us had any swimwear nearby we simply went stakers. Of course, there were only three inches of water inside since neither of us could swim back then."
"So you have baby pictures of me?" he groaned.
"Mum has three albums full. She always liked you. Actually tried to gain custody of you a couple times."
"We could have grown up together?"
"Maybe. Dumbledore could have placed you with my mum since we are actually your closest living relatives. Well, we and the Malfoys."
"Another thing to add to the long list of Dumbledore's failings," Harry bitterly spat, missing the fact that most, if not all magical courts would have decided in Malfoy's favour.
"But if we would have grown up as siblings we couldn't be dancing like this. And at least he's giving you private lessons," Dora pointed out when the next song began, trying to calm him down.
"Where I don't learn a single thing. He just shows me a couple memories of Voldemort's past."
"That's all? Dumbledore's fabled lessons are the reason for dozens of rumours down in Hogsmeade. Everyone thinks you are being trained in advanced battle magic or that you are his apprentice. But the old fucker only shows you a couple memories? Doesn't he care about the prophecy at all? You need a way to kill him, not a home movie."
"He still thinks that the power is love. Because I'm sure that snogging Voldemort is the way to defeat him," Harry replied, immensely glad for the privacy charms still surrounding them. "Not like I know the first thing about it."
"I'm sure that there's more than one witch who could help you learn."
"A quick shag between Defence and Charms is not love. That's pretty much all I know," Harry replied, missing the obvious invitation.
"What about Hermione? Surely she could be persuaded for some learning experiences."
"I'm not sure. I mean, she is pretty but I've been feeling strange around her recently. It doesn't help that she's been acting strangely and rather distantly all year. Ginny is not better. That girl openly admitted that she's only dating other guys to practice for me. She looks like my mum without boobs for Merlin's sake. And yet I feel like something is crawling inside me every time I see her snog Dean."
"Something crawling inside you? Like an animal?" Tonks asked with sudden interest.
"Ehm, yeah."
"Shit, do you know what that means?"
"Should I?"
"Someone has been slipping you potions."
Harry froze for a second before shaking his head. "I… I never thought Ginny would do something like this."
"You know, she might not be behind it. Maybe it's just another admirer trying to take her out of the game before she can try anything by framing her for attempted rape. There were a couple of such cases during my time here."
"Attempted rape?"
"What else do love potions do but make you fuck people you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole otherwise. That's rape, plain and simple."
"What now? I mean, shouldn't I do something about it? "
"Are you feeling strangely jealous right now?"
"Not really, why?"
"Then let's deal with that tomorrow. You need a break from the war or you'll end like Frank Jenkins. Poor bloke tried to do all the work and pulled more overtime than the rest of the department. He snapped after three months and had to be treated in St. Mungos. We want to keep you out of there, right?"
"But how can I take a break when people are dying?" Harry asked hesitantly. A day off sure sounded nice but everyone waited for him to kill Voldemort.
"Ask yourself, what would you achieve if you were not being here tonight."
"Harry my boy, are you enjoying yourself," an unwelcome voice interrupted them.
"Yes Professor, we are having a great time," Harry replied truthfully. He invited Tonks because he needed someone to confide in but her idea of a carefree evening has been great so far. And holding her close while slowly swaying across the dancefloor made him feel strangely happy and invincible.
"You never mentioned that you had connections with the Aurors."
"Well, Tonks is an old friend. We are actually fourth cousins through the Blacks," Harry explained.
"Ah, so you are trying to strengthen the house. Well, if you need any potion to help with that feel free to ask me," Slughorn said happily before he wandered off towards Neville Longbottom and his date. When he was out of earshot Tonks burst out laughing.
"What?" Harry wanted to know, obviously missing the joke.
"Well, your teacher basically congratulated you for getting some with your cousin and offered you potions that improve your 'endurance'."
"Dora, I don't want to shag you because you are my cousin," Harry immediately replied before he realised how wrong that sounded. "And I don't need that kind of potions."
"But you want to shag me?" Tonks teased, barely suppressing her laughter.
"Well, yes…no," he stuttered while turning redder than the Hogwarts Express.
"So I am not shaggable?"
"No, I mean yes, ehm… Look, any bloke would be lucky to go out with you. Hell, I'm still surprised to be on a date with you. A bunch of Veela courtesans could walk in and you'd still be the most attractive person here," Harry said and felt like he was digging his hole deeper and deeper.
"More attractive than a troop of Veela whores? I think that you finally lost it," Dora laughed. Harry surely had a way with words. The thought was nice but he certainly had to work on the delivery. And yet it was strangely endearing, reminding her of her Hogwarts days, of easier times. It was a paradox really, whatever happened between Harry, his mother and Voldemort, gave the magical society peace for more than a decade and at the same time, he was a symbol of the fight against the pureblood fanatics under Voldemort's banner.
"Well, to me at last. I mean sure, twenty half nude blondes are certainly attractive, I'm not denying that. But I don't know any of them and I know you. Like I said earlier, you are the quintessential Hufflepuff. You are kind, loyal and hardworking. You are funny and honest. If a pepper-up potion had a sound it would be your laughter. And your hair can lighten up even the darkest clouds," Harry stated passionately although he wondered where exactly that came from. Sure, he had always liked Tonks but usually, his thoughts were far from that level of sappiness.
The metamorph looked at him strangely for a moment, like he was an especially difficult riddle. They locked eyes and Harry could see that she was furiously thinking before shrugging.
"Fuck it all."
In one fluid motion, she grabbed him by the neck, took one step forward and slammed her lips onto his.
Harry was stunned for a moment before his instincts took over. The same instincts that preserved mankind for thousands of years. As far as kisses went this was new to him. Cho had been insecure and hesitant, not to mention crying. The Gryffindor chasers had always been friendly and chaste, a playful peck on the lips after winning a game. Tonks, on the other hand, was aggressive, if not outright domineering. A bright fire was burning in her purple eyes and held him captive as they slowly became brighter and a pleasant warmth was spreading through his body.
Just as Harry got over his initial shock, closed his eyes and started to kiss back Tonks broke the kiss and pushed him away. He felt hurt because his dazed mind took a second to realise that she had not played some kind of wicked game but spun around, drawn her wand and levelled it on a group of people in the far end of the room.
Suddenly various previously ignored sounds washed over him and he became aware of the commotion in the corner. Within fifteen seconds every eye in the room was focused on the three people in the middle of it.
A shocked and yet angry Hermione Granger was standing next to a fuming blonde whom Harry identified as Penelope Clearwater. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and had her hair in a pixy cut, which was a huge contrast to the studious head girl he remembered. The witch towered over Cormac McLaggen, Gryffindor reserve keeper and all around arse. The young man with the impressive physique of a bodybuilder was lying on the floor, clutching his face while blood dripped out of his cupped hand and onto his midnight blue dress robes.
"You will pay for that. I have friends within the ministry. When the Aurors are done with you, you won't be able to show your face in a Knockturn Alley whorehouses," McLaggan snarled, sputtering blood across the floor.
"Why don't we let the Aurors decide that?" Tonks asked, calmly walking over to the trio. With her hair and dress turned into a fierce red she looked like she was about to grievously injure someone.
"And who the fuck are you? Having nice tits doesn't give you a voice here," the man on the floor sneered while he focused on Tonks or her breasts at least. The continuous attention on her curves made Harry feel uncomfortable and he had to suppress the urge to hit him like the former Ravenclaw had done.
"That's Auror First Class Tonks to you boy. Now, why doesn't somebody tell me what happened here?" she asked while glaring at Cormac.
"You an Auror First Class? Sweetie, you have to be much older for that. Twenty years of service at least. You might be a secretary or a clerk but not an Auror First Class No way I'm falling for that trick."
"She got that promotion for killing Travers and duelling Bellatrix Lestrange to a standstill in the Department of Mysteries so I'd be careful what you say next blondie. Ask Antonin Dolohov what happened to the last guy who had a go at a girl I like," Harry threw in causing a murmur pass through the crowd around them. Most of them were aware how little had been left of the Russian wizard.
As the adrenaline slowly lost its effect the reserve keeper realised the predicament he found himself in.
"So, what happened here?" Tonks asked once more.
"We were talking about the Clearwater factor which is the result of Miss Clearwater's research on the magical conductivity of various materials when he walked over and groped us both," Hermione began explaining.
"I decked him for that," Penelope added, unable to suppress the mirth in her tone.
"I see. You could file a complaint about Mr McLaggan here but I doubt that it would stick. And I think he already learned his lesson. That was a nice punch by the way, where did you learn that?"
"I have been taking boxing classes during the summer holidays since my fourth year, Penelope Clearwater, pleased to meet you."
"Hello Miss Clearwater, hi Hermione."
"Please, it's Penny."
"Well, I'm still Tonks. If you were named Nymphadora you would prefer your last name, too."
"And I thought Penelope was bad," she laughed while McLaggan hurried away. The crowd began snickering and returned to their previous conversation
"I've heard some stories about you," Penny said carefully.
"Rule of thumb about rumours and me. The ones about girls are accurate. The ones about boys are made up."
"So you and Professor Babbling?"
"Yeah, although it's not nearly as scandalous as you might think. We already had a thing in her seventh year and then we just continued from there on. It's not my bloody fault that my then girlfriend became a teacher at my school."
"Tonks, what are you doing here? I didn't know you were invited," Hermione interrupted, not interested in tales of the sexual adventures of her Runes teacher.
"Well, Harry here was in dire need of a date and I graciously agreed to help him out."
"I didn't hear you complain when you kissed me," Harry threw in before he realising what he just blurted out.
"I didn't know you two were going out. Harry, why didn't you tell me?" Hermione demanded to know.
"That happened a minute ago. And you were a little preoccupied with decking McLaggan," Harry pointed out.
"I didn't deck him, that was Penny."
"And you were having a front row seat. Hey Penny, would you mind getting close and personal with Malfoy or Snape? That was one hell of a punch."
"Is Malfoy still the same whiny idiot he was three years ago?"
"He's worse now. Has been acting strangely ever since he became a Death Eater," Harry replied darkly.
"Please not this again. You have no proof that he actually is one. He's far too young," Hermione threw in.
"Wait, you think Malfoy is not a Death Eater? The same Malfoy who wanted to kill all Mudbloods in his first year if I remember his rants correctly?" Tonks challenged.
"Those were just empty words. He's too young. He didn't even finish his education."
"So? Hermione, fifty years ago people in your age were fighting the Isles against the Third Reich. And what use are NEWTs for murder and torture?"
"But Voldemort wouldn't…"
"Don't presume you know what Voldemort would or would not do," the still red-haired witch hissed. While Harry usually was not happy when someone, Ron in most cases, took that tone with his best friend this topic was an exception. He had tried to reason with Hermione but she would not see what was obvious. Maybe the not so gentle approach would yield better results. However, the middle of a crowded Christmas party might not be the best place to discuss the war. Especially when both sides knew far more than the public. This problem, however, was resolved immediately. Harry noticed a faint shimmer in the air around them. Somebody had just cast wards around them. Judging by her wink and the drawn wand that somebody was Penelope.
"But Dumbledore wouldn't let him into Hogwarts if he was a Death Eater," Hermione replied weakly.
"Like he kept Snape out of Hogwarts? The same Snape who confessed to twelve counts of murder and seventeen rapes as well as accessory to countless more? The same guy who tried to get an innocent man executed due to a childhood rivalry. The one who decided to abuse your best friend for five years because he didn't get the girl twenty years ago? The same who sleeps with students for better marks? The Snape who got Harry's parents killed?" Tonks snarled, her hair pulsating in deep shades of red, giving it a blood-like appearance. If she would have been mad at him Harry would be sweating bullets. As a mere bystander, however, he simply appreciated how incredibly hot Tonks looked like this.
"Is that true?" the scientist next to him asked.
"Straight from his trial records. Well besides the stuff at Hogwarts, that's mostly my recollection."
"I always thought that he was a bad teacher and a horrible person but still, a Death Eater…"
"He only avoided Azkaban because Dumbledore got him off as Chief Warlock."
"Well, I'm glad I'm gone from here but that man still ruins the mood. Three minutes ago we were talking about sexual fantasies. Now my date and your date are about to draw their wands," Penny said nonchalantly and Harry felt his mind come to a total halt. It was becoming a regular occurrence this evening. He didn't even register that Penelope referred to Hermione as her date.
"Do you think there will be a catfight? Maybe we should grab some popcorn."
"Sexual fantasies?" Harry asked, still stuck on her previous statement.
"Yes, for example, did you know how many knickers you got wet after displaying that bit of parselmagic back in your second year? Granted, you were a bit younger than I was comfortable with but many didn't care. After all, the age of consent is still eleven in all of magical Europe."
"What?"
"Or did you know that Hermione always wanted to have all her holes filled at once? Imagining how much fun she could have with a Devil's Snare?" Penny's delivery was completely deadpan but she couldn't stop the corner of her mouth from jerking upwards.
"Damn, you had me there for a moment," Harry groaned while Penelope burst out laughing. "Are you done having fun at my expense?"
"Well, I don't know about Hermione's secrets but what I said about your special gift wasn't made up. Parselmouths are popular in France exactly for that reason. The Veela clans of Burgundy would pay good money for your services. "
"So you suggest that I should become a prostitute?" Harry replied while simultaneously thinking about the uses of parseltongue. Maybe it was a useful gift after all.
"Well, I'd use the term 'call boy' myself but sure, whatever suits you. Being the boy-toy for a bunch of gorgeous French certainly beats working for the Ministry. Bunch of bigoted dicks, the whole lot of them," the blonde hissed bitterly and Harry guessed that she too had some bad experiences with the Ministry.
"Shouldn't we try to...well, I don't know, stop them?" Harry asked, gesturing at the two witches in front of them.
"I think Hermione is mad that I've beaten her to the punch. She went for her wand but at that point, that moron was already down. Now she has some pent up aggression and no one but your date to take it out on," Penny observed casually.
"So we just sit back and let them rip into each other?"
"Yup," the blonde replied and conjured herself a cosy looking chair.
"So, uhm, what happened to Percy?"
"That arse had the great idea to marry straight after graduation. I never understood why wizards rush marriage but that's not the point. In his ideal marriage, I would be staying at home and we'd have two kids by now. Oh, and we would raise them the proper way without any corrupting influences. That was his codeword for anything muggle, like electricity. Needless to say, I dumped him," Penny answered before starting to grin like a Cheshire cat. "He said that I would never get anywhere without him. Three years later and I am giving lectures at the Imperial University of Bohemia while he is licking the boots of some Ministry clerk."
"I never liked Percy and I certainly didn't understand what anyone saw in him."
"Looking back I don't understand it either."
Meanwhile, Tonks appeared to have run out of patience. "Listen, you think that everybody should follow the law, right?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you for the last five minutes," Hermione replied in her usual lecturing tone.
"So you agree that we should hang all Death Eaters? Great."
"Yes. Wait, what?"
"Well, the Death Eaters want to rule a muggle free Britain by killing them all. That means they are levying war against the Crown. That is High treason. According to the laws of the land, there are gallows waiting for anyone guilty of that crime. Now if you excuse me, I have wasted more than enough time talking about scum."
With that Tonks spun around, grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him back towards the dancefloor.
Seeing that Tonks was still seething with anger the Gryffindor seeker decided to use a trick he discovered during his disastrous time with Cho Chang. As Harry drew small circles on the back of Tonks' hand he felt her grip loosen while the blood red hair slowly grew and faded to a rich purple.
"What got you so worked up?" he asked carefully while taking the stance he had been taught for the Yule Ball. However, Tonks was not in the mood for formal dancing and simply pulled Harry Potter into a tight embrace and began swaying left and right.
"It's just, Hermione is driving me mad. How can a girl get petrified by a giant snake and fight her way through the Department of Mysteries but still be so naive? She just does not realise that there are people in your age who already killed others. People who kill for petty reasons. She's not taking the war seriously and that's what gets people killed. That's what got Sirius killed."
"I killed Quirrel when I was eleven," Harry argued while enjoying holding Tonks closely more than he probably should. She was six years older and had a lot more experience, there was a war hanging over them and the Prophet would probably have a field day once they got some pictures. And yet all that he could think of was their short kiss and that she smelled of exotic fruits.
"That was self-defence and not murder. Mum told me some stories about her childhood and those were no pretty tales. House Black had marriage contracts with both the Lestranges and the Malfoys. Since she was the eldest she was given the choice between the two of them. Both tried to woo her by proving that they are upstanding members of our society through murdering muggles. Lestrange was thirteen at that time, Malfoy fourteen. That was murder, not burning some fool hosting Voldemort's ghost," she said sadly and once again rested her head on his shoulder.
"What about the underage magic restriction?" Harry asked weakly.
"The Ministry cannot track cursed daggers or poison. And even if they used magic, a small donation would fix that. It's a sad state of affairs in London and it's not getting better. To be honest, I am tired of all their shit. The bureaucracy, the corruption, the discriminations, it's just too much for me. I joined the Aurors because I wanted to help making Britain a better place. Instead, I spend more time with paperwork that ends up useless because people just bribe my superiors and the charges get dropped. As long as you don't kill another pureblood the Wizengamot doesn't care. And I am working for them. Each morning I struggle to get up and do my job because I feel like it's just not worth it because I help a system that is wrong. You heard that wanker, some friends in high positions and a generous donation and your case gets dropped," Tonks mumbled into his shoulder but the Gryffindor heard every word. He traced shapes onto her shoulder and she snuggled further into his side.
"So you want to quit?"
"I…I probably already did. When I kissed you earlier at least one of the people here left in a hurry and sold the story to the papers. That story will end up in the Prophet before Christmas titled "Amoral Auror seduces our Hero" or some other crap. The Minister always thought that I was no Auror material and use will gladly use that as an excuse to fire me," Tonks explained nonchalantly.
"Why did you kiss me then? You will lose your job because of me. You will…" was all that Harry could say before the metamorph decided to silence him with a peck on the lips.
"I kissed you because I wanted to. I can honestly say that I no longer care about being an Auror or working for the Ministry. I have more than enough gold until I find something new."
"Why? What's that between us?" Harry wanted to know. Tonks was confusing him. A year ago she was happy being an Auror and now she wanted to toss away five years at the ministry because of him.
"Well, we are friends who are obviously attracted to each other. Don't deny it, I saw you checking me out all evening. That's a good place to start. I don't know where we will end up. We could be best friends, acquaintances, married, fuckbuddies or even mortal enemies ten years down the road. Only time will tell. But for now, let's have some fun before I show you the many wonderful things you can do in a broom closet," she smirked before introducing Harry to French kissing.
For him, it was simply wonderful. For the first time in years, Harry felt pure joy. It was not a tainted moment like his first Quidditch win because there was no assassination attempt this time, no dementor swarm trying to kill him, no forced participation in a bloodsport and no Umbridge. It was just him and the witch in his arms. Tonks was back to her domineering self and Harry just gave in. For once he didn't have to be the one in charge. He could simply savour the moment, get lost in the feeling of utter bliss as her tongue brushed over his, the taste of strawberries still on her lips. Applying slightly more pressure the former Hufflepuff pushed Harry further into her arms and nibbled on his lower lip. A strand of bubblegum pink hair fell over his eyebrow when they broke the kiss, foreheads resting against each others'. Opening his eyes Harry gazed into Tonks violet ones. He was still trying to process the last minute while unknowingly sporting a goofy grin.
"Bloody hell"
"Not bad for a first time. But they say practice makes perfect," Nym said softly before kissing him again. This time it was less needy and a lot gentler. She allowed Harry take charge, amused by his inexperienced and yet highly enthusiastic response. It was like being a teenager all over again.
"Why are we doing this?" he asked breathlessly after they broke apart once more.
"Because it's fun," replied Tonks before turning towards the buffet. "Come on, let's get some food. You will need it later on."
While her response did not answer his question Harry found himself not really caring why the metamorph decided to kiss him. Even if he couldn't understand it, the Gryffindor was not about to complain. And with Voldemort lingering like a dark shadow across magical Britain Harry was not sure when he would get another chance to enjoy a good time without worrying about the genocidal madman gunning for him. And at the moment he really didn't want to think about bald psychopaths when he could think about a certain witch that made him very happy.