AN: It's finally Christmas and the day of the Fanfic matches real life exactly. Merry Christmas!

Chapter VII: Wish Fulfilment

"There, there dear. Would you like me to cook you something? I am sure that you must be hungry," Mrs. Weasley asked as she gently rubbed his sore neck.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley but I'm fine," he grunted out after he finished vomiting in the bucket that Mr. Weasley had put under him – apparently he was lucky that he hadn't split into a thousand different pieces and sprayed blood all over the carpet.

Mr. Weasley swatted him on the back, causing a new wave of nausea to descend into the bucket. "Come now Harry! Tell us about where you've been! You've had us worried young man, what with your irresponsible disappearance in the middle of the night. Why we even thought that old you-know-who had you in his clutches!"

"Sorry Mr. Weasley," he sputtered out, "It was nothing really. A small misunderstanding..."

"Misunderstanding huh?" Mr. Weasley said as he eyed his bloodied hospital clothes and pointed at his scratches, marks and bruises, "That must have been one ample misunderstanding to cause all of this commotion."

Mrs. Weasley seemingly breaking out of her fevered stupor of helping him started examining him too beyond the cloak that the twins had covered him in. Ron gave him a sympathetic look.

"HARRY POTTER! WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!" everybody flinched as Mrs. Weasleys famous banshee voice filled the first floor of the Burrow to where he could even swear seeing some cracks form on the kitchen's windows.

Ron's voice obstructed the need to answer that question with a, "Harry mate, where's your scar?"

The room grew quiet as everybody focused on his suspiciously empty forehead. "I told you, it is a long story."

"A long story indeed," came a voice from the open doorway. "Forgive me Molly, but I rather forgot to knock this time around."

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.

He could just about pick out one of the twins handing a Sickle to the other behind their backs as Mrs. Weasley turned her head towards the doorway, "No worries Albus! Harry's returned and we've been so worried over his health that we wouldn't have even heard you had you knocked!"

"Indeed," Dumbledore's eyes met his as he was met with the familiar twinkle behind the half-mooned spectacles that he hadn't seen in quite some time; the same eyes that had given him the prophecy, the same eyes that had indirectly caused Sirius's death, "I am gladdened to know that young Mister Potter has decided to grace us with his presence again. I am sure that Poppy would want to check him over when he gets back to Hogwarts after the holidays. She has been on alert lately, muttering to herself about the Potter genes wrecking her holiday plans yet again."

He blushed and looked at the floor. He wasn't all that bad.

"How were you so certain that he would come back Albus?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Oh no," Dumbledore said, "I wasn't certain but I knew that Mister Potter was intelligent enough to know that he could call on the Knight Bus to aid him wherever he was. And if that failed him – well he could always call on Kreacher who rescue his master from any situation."

He looked at Dumbledore's irritating twinkling eyes and hit his foot against the wooden chair next to his bucket, instantly regretting his decision as his toe forced him to grit his teeth in pain.

It wasn't for nothing! He had taught himself how to apparate and that has got to count for something! He also needed his wand to call the Knight Bus through admittedly calling Kreacher was a much better idea compared to any of his own. Speaking of his wand...

"I don't have a wand."

"Say that again Harry? I didn't quite catch that," Mr. Weasley leaned in as did the other occupants in the room.

"I said that I don't have my wand with me."

Dumbledore seemed to freeze and really look him up and down this time, the twinkle now absent from his eyes. He finally gazed upon his forehead, "Just where have you been young Harry?"

"It is a long story headmaster. One I'd rather not talk about right now."

"Absurd! Harry you've got to-"

"Molly," Dumbledore's voice seemed to stop Mrs. Weasley in her tracks, "Young Harry has just arrived and I am sure that he is starving. I am rather certain when I say this but I think that Harry will tell us where he has been to in his own time."

Mrs. Weasley was wide-eyed, "But Dumbledore-"

"And now forgive me for I must depart. I only stopped by to pick up some documents that I need to file with the International Confederation of Wizards. Remember Arthur, Molly..." here he hesitated, looking at him once more, "...and Harry that the Order meeting is at three sharp, right after lunch, and I await you all at Grimmauld place."

"But Albus, Harry is too young!" Mrs. Weasley couldn't keep it in this time.

"The subject to be discussed concerns young Mister Potter, Molly. Thus I have invited him to be present at the meeting. Do not worry yourself, nothing inappropriate shall be discussed with Harry there."

"Well alright then – but he doesn't sign up with the Order!"

"Naturally Molly. Arthur," the headmaster nodded to Mr. Weasley who nodded in return, "Children."

"Hey! We're not children!" exclaimed George, or was it Fred?

Dumbledore's eyes gained back their twinkle, "Of course you are not Mister Weasley. I must rather say that your beard is most impressive. Farewell, till next time."

The headmaster gave a last nod before departing outside to presumably disapparate in his long cloak covered in celestial bodies, stars and orbiting planets.

The twins looked each other over and both exclaimed at the same time, "What beards?!"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Come on Harry, we've got to get you out of those 'clothes' and into some proper robes."

"Don't forget to come down for lunch!" Mrs. Weasley shouted after them.

"Yes Mum!" shouted back Ron.

As soon as they got into Ron's room, he let his shoulders slump, "Thanks mate for saving me back there, your mum was going ballistic."

Ron eyed him, "Well she had a good reason too. Here's some of your clothes that I nicked along with your trunk from Hogwarts. Go wash up and then we'll talk – you stink."

He man-hugged Ron despite the hurdled protests, "Thanks Ron."

Ron grew indignant as soon as he stopped trying to choke him and made a dash for the bathroom, "You jerk! Now I smell like you as well!"

He laughed for the first time in a while, it felt good to let go, "It's an improvement!"

He banged the door closed, hearing the thud of a thrown shoe colliding with the door. He was home.

Turning the knob in the shower, he started twitching as he immediately battled with the controls to stop being layered in freezing cold water in the winter. Warm water finally started cascading down his skin and he finally got to rest under its calming streams. Life was going so fast at the moment that it was good to reset and rest in this moment of calm.

He thought of Fleur. Would she show up at the Order meeting? He could imagine her freaking out, searching for him right now. Pulling out her hair, drinking herself under, uplifting the whole place... he needed to find her as soon as possible. Tell her that he was alright. Perhaps he would send her Hedwig? If Ron took her to the Burrow as well that is, otherwise he would have to think of another way to contact her.

And what about those agents? Where they really who they claimed to be? Maybe he had overreacted a bit, in any case, killing off one of their own could only worsen relations with whomever had sent the two. He shivered in the water as he washed off some of the dried blood on his legs and chest. That man's face had been squashed like a watermelon smashed in with a car-long hammer.

He held a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from barfing before he got out of the shower and let go of it in the toilet. After dry-heaving what was left of his Hogwarts dinner three days ago, he washed his face and switched off the shower.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His emerald green eyes were shadowed with dark bags of stress, his messy hair was lumped lifelessly on his head and his absent scar was the only indication that his talk with Sirius had ever happened. Horcruxes were real and he would need to tell Dumbledore in private. Unless he already knew?

He opened the door and stepped outside anew, with his everyday black robes on that he barely wore outside of Hogwarts. They swished through the air and their unremarkableness was masked by their representation of millennia of wizarding history.

"Admiring yourself in the mirror now mate? That's a long nose you have there."

"Shut up Ron. At least I can see my own prick."

"Hey!" Ron threw a pillow, "I'm not fat!"

"Yeah sure. I bet that's why McGonagall had to order new Quidditch robes just for you."

"You're a prick, you know that?" Ron yelled indignantly.

He smiled, "Well at least I am a long one."

Ron groaned, "Three days and he went from intolerable brat to Snape's son."

"Oh that's it," he growled as Ron's eyes widened.

He grabbed an umbrella and charged as Ron grabbed the remaining pillow on his bed. Umbrella smashed pillow as he short-charged Ron onto the bed. Ron pressed back as he was thrown to the floor and managed to roll out of the way just in time to avoid a stomping foot.

He twisted around the umbrella and hit a yelping Ron on the leg, "You're out of practice!"

"Aye, aye cap'n!" Ron suddenly sprang right at him.

He tried to dodge but there was not enough time and he was brought down under Ron's weight as he was mercilessly choked with the pillow.

He hit his hand against the floor, as he struggled against the pillow's dense fabric "'nough!"

"Ha ha! I still triumph against the Chosen One! Another victory for Ronald Weasley!"

"Shut up fatty. You got lucky this time."

"Don't be such a cold sore Harry. I'm sure you will win next time – or in a couple hundred or thousand years, you know, whichever comes first." He rolled his eyes and dragged the umbrella back to its place as Ron collected the pillows.

"So what have you been up to while you were on your merry adventure without me?"

Possibly it was because he was still sore after his lose or because Ron was his best friend but he decided to tell him everything. Absolutely everything: even the parts including Bill Weasley.

He told Ron everything: about the Suicide... Fleur... Bill...bloody France!... dying... meeting Sirius and Voldemort in the afterlife... Horcruxes... the French Ministry of Magic trying to kidnap him... killing a guy... and learning how to apparate from a place called 'Brest'.

After an hour of recounting everything, Ron looked like a Horntail dragon had walked over him and killed off every member of the Chudley Cannons. "Bloody hell... Harry... you need to see a psychiatrist. Like right now. I cannot believe this. This is... it's just too..."

"Unbelievable?" he tried to helpfully add.

"Unbelievable? Unbelievable?!" Ron looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, "It sounds bloody barmy! Like something straight out of some legend or something! Seriously Harry, I cannot believe that I was jealous of you in fourth year with the whole cup thing. Your life is worse than that of Moaning Myrtle!"

"Thanks Ron, really helped me out there."

"I'm serious. If you don't die before you finish Hogwarts, I'll donate my Cleansweep to charity."

"So what should we do about it then?" he asked.

Ron shook his head, "Well looks like we will need to destroy these Horcruxes, wherever they are, and we need to sign you up to see a medical psychiatrist."

"Ron-"

"No Harry, I'm serious. This is messed up! If I have this reaction I can't even imagine what you must have felt like having to live through this. I wish Hermione was here, she could form a plan or something that would make everything better!"

He looked up puzzled, "I thought you were fighting?"

"Well... we are. But you're our friend and she's not that bad. Perhaps we got a bit carried away..."

"What about Lavender?"

Ron scratched his head, "It... it doesn't matter. Speaking of Lavender, seen the ugly necklace she sent me for Christmas?"

"Of course not Ron. I came today, remember?"

"Huh, maybe my memory is failing me at this old age. But where is my magnificent beard?"

They both laughed. It felt good to be laughing with Ron again considering he had just laid out his past few days out bare to him but he didn't know what else he was expecting. Ron was still Ron. His best friend.

He caught the thrown necklace and looked over the heart-shaped amulet with the words 'My Sweetheart' embedded in golden italics across the centre. "That doesn't look ugly, I think it was meant to be sentimental. Classy. The twins will love it."

Ron sent him a death stare at the mention of the twins, "Well yeah, but I don't like it."

"Well if you don't like it then maybe I should keep it?"

"Bugger off," Ron grumbled as he grabbed the necklace out of his hands and stuffed it back under his pillow, "If Lavender doesn't see me with this when we come back than I'm in hotter water than Bill with Mum."

"Why? What's he in for?"

"Well apparently he and Fleur are going through a rough patch and she decided to go on back to her family in France- wait, it was you! You caused this entire thing!"

"What thing Ron?"

"Harry, Bill likes Fleur but Mum doesn't like her and wants him to be with Tonks but Tonks likes Remus but Remus likes Hestia Jones and she likes him back but Bill and Tonks don't like each other! And now Fleur seems to be distancing herself and-"

"Hold up. How do you even know this? I didn't take you for caring about this sort of stuff. Wait Ron, are you getting... feministic?"

He got a well deserved punch but at least Ron's face bloomed so hard that it would never be the same colour ever again, "You know, with you gone there is no one to spend time with and we have a lot of women guests over that tend to gossip so..."

He exaggeratedly shook his head, as if he was a teacher that had caught Ron sneaking around the corridors after curfew.

"Oh don't give me that! You, like, indirectly started half of this bullshit at least!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yes but I did it by accident whereas you spend time around girls listening to romance stories. That and the necklace. Hmm, I wonder, are you sure that you're not going-"

"I am going to kill you Harry!" Ron tried to lock him into a hold unsuccessfully before he sprang up and made a dash for it downstairs.

"Well you know! It makes sense!" he yelled back

"Harry! I am going to kill you!" the thud of Ron's shoes would stump any elephant out of the water.

He dashed into the wide kitchen and rapidly hid himself behind a newly awoken Ginny that stared at him with wide-eyes as if he was the devil himself.

"Hello Ginny. Mind if you can protect me from-"

"Harry!"

He gulped as he held onto Ginny's waist and hid himself behind her as Ron barged into the room.

"Where are you-"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" Ginny unleashed her inner-Molly.

Ron gulped, "Finding Harry?"

"GET YOUR HIDE OUT OF HERE BEFORE I-" Ginny raised her wand threateningly but there was no need, Ron had already dashed off in the direction of the four corners of the world.

"Now Harry, let go of my waist. You know that I have a boyfriend?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," he rubbed his neck as he took a step back.

Her composure faded as she gazed at his forehead, "Harry..."

"Yeah, it's gone. For good."

"Oh that's – good."

They stood around awkwardly before he tried to make an excuse, "Well I guess I'll go. I have... stuff and-"

"Yeah, you go. And I also have.. stuff, to do," she mumbled.

They quickly left each other, with his face the colour of smoked salmon. His face was lighting up with many magnificent colours these days. He climbed back to his room to find Ron waiting for him on the bed, a Chudley Cannons magazine in hand.

"Geez, Harry – I understand that I wanted to kill you but still... did you have to unleash the fury?"

"Sorry," he said slowly without looking at Ron.

Ron looked at him as if he was bonkers, "Everything alright with you?"

"Yeah, I'm... Ron where is Hedwig?"

"Oh she's at Hogwarts, didn't want to move an inch without you."

"Well then can I borrow Pigwidgeon?"

"Sure, you can have Pig. He would be in the corridor, right next to the window but" Ron paused as he tried to formulate his thoughts, "try not to give him something too heavy will ya? He's more likely to drop it in the sea than carry it to the person you need him to carry it to, if you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, thanks Ron," he replied, noticing that Ron probably figured out the recipient of the message already.

And Hermione had called him dumb.

"I think its time for dinner. I'm starving," said Ron.

Hermione was apparently right.

"Ron... it's lunch."

"Oi! I knew that! Was just checking you. You joining?"

"Course, but I want to write a letter first-"

"Gotcha. See you then Harry," Ron whistled as he strolled out of the room, making sure to demonstratively close the door.

Sighing and shaking his head, he grabbed a spare sheet of parchment and began writing. After writing about what briefly transpired and telling Fleur that he was alright, not to worry and where he was at, he was done with the last sentence as he heard the first knock.

The door opened a crack and in filtered Ginny's voice, "Mind if I come in?"

He moved to hide the parchment promptly before he invited Ginny in. She sauntered in, eyeing his ruffled appearance and the place where he had hurriedly thrown the letter before sitting on his bed. She was dressed nicely in long jeans and a crumpled t-shirt, her hair hanging over it in a braid, complementing her freckled face.

"Hey Harry, guess we haven't talked in a while," her face split into a sincere, shy smile.

"Yeah Ginny, long time no see," he stumbled out as he tried to appear more relaxed than he was really in her presence.

"So where have you been? Tonks mentioned something about a... sexscapade..." Ginny implied coyly.

He opened his mouth in shock, "Wha- Whagh-?"

How did Tonks know about Fleur?!

"Close your mouth silly. It doesn't seem that was the case was it? We all thought that she was pulling our leg but then – you never know with Tonks do you?" Ginny raised her eyebrow suggestively.

Was Ginny... flirting with him?

His mind flashed to Fleur, to the letter right behind his back... the next thing he knew Ginny was standing right in front of him, leaning in.

"So?" she got in real close and looked into his eyes as she whispered, "Is it true?"

"Harry?"

Ginny jumped backwards as if she was electroshocked as Ron came in, "Are you going to Lunch? Mum has gotten all fed up waiting for you. And Ginny, what are you doing here?"

"Yeah – Yes Ron. Coming right along. Me and Ginny were just... talking."

"Okay then," Ron raised an eyebrow as he left them alone and closed the door behind himself, his steps thundering off downstairs.

The silence was restored as Ginny flushed a gorgeous scarlet red. He was one to talk as his face was most probably the exact same colour, if not darker.

"S-s-sorry about that. I got carried away. Forget about it. Thanks for covering for me," Ginny hurriedly stuttered before quickly pulling in and kissing him on the cheek before leaving the room.

He was left rooted to the spot as he stared at her retreating back and touched where Ginny had kissed him. What had just happened?

After quickly changing into some trousers and a t-shirt in lieu of the Order meeting, he followed along with dazed eyes and found himself sitting at the kitchen table along with the rest of the Weasley clan, Ginny sitting on the other-side of the twins, avoiding his eyes whenever he looked at her.

"What has gotten into you mate?" Ron demanded to know as he piled on a mountain of mashed potato onto his plate.

"I'm – I'm alright. Everything is fine."

"Hmm. You finished that letter yet?"

"Mhmm, finished it while you were gone."

"With Ginny?!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

He could see Ginny's face turning bright red again. His chest swelled.

"Not so loud Ron. No, before Ginny came," he whispered to avoid the ears of the twins that were starting to give them slightly more attention after Ron's exclamation.

"Sorry," Ron loudly whispered back, "Then what did you do with Ginny then?"

He could see Ginny's face now matching her hair as she put her head into her hands. The twins must have laid the area with extendable ears. Or Ron was just very, very loud when he whispered.

"Ron, shut it. We just talked."

"Alright, alright, geez. Only asking," Ron murmured as he dug into his Everest of foods.

Lunch was uneventful after that save when George threw a sausage at Ron's face and Ron caught it in a piece of bread and began to eat it as if everything was planned all along. Aside from this, lunch passed quickly and soon it was time for him to go with Mr and Mrs. Weasley to the meeting at the headquarters.

"Alright listen up kids," Mrs. Weasley said as she put on her winter gloves, "Me and your father along with Harry are going to an Order meeting so you best take care of the house and not trash it like last time."

"But we didn't trash it!" complained one of the twins.

Mrs. Weasley singled out the twin that spoke, "Fred, you know very well what you did. Make sure that it does not occur again. Alright kids, be good and take care of your sister. Come on Harry, we will need to apparate outside of the house."

He was puzzled by this, "But Mrs. Weasley, I have already apparated into the house?"

"That was because you were keyed into the wards Harry. Grimmauld place has no one keyed into the wards expect for Sirius – Magic be with his soul – so we cannot apparate directly there," Mrs. Weasley explained to him as they left the house and strolled down the garden path, Mr. Weasley slightly behind, waving his wand as if he was locking the invisible lock to the Burrow.

"Ready to go Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes Mrs. Weasley," he said as the person he considered his adopted mother raised her hand.

And whom was a Weasley who didn't scare the living crap out of his parents every once in a while? Concentrating on 12 Grimmauld Place, he mentally shoved himself in that direction. He needed to see his godfathers house. He needed to see it, smell it, feel it...

POP!

He fell down onto the ground, catching himself with his hands at the last moment with Seeker-honed reflexes. Cats banged against dust bins and it smelled of piss. He was at Grimmauld Place alright. Ironically, the place had once been an affluent neighbourhood of the elite before it degraded into what it was today.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley tugged on his ear after she arrived with her own POP, "You could have at least warned us! I nearly had a heart attack!"

"Sorry Mrs. Weasley. I didn't want to be a bother."

Her tone softened and she patted his head, "Oh you're not a bother dear, just warn us the next time you decide to apparate alone. And try to refrain from apparating around Arthur dear, illegal apparition really drives him batty after all the splinching accidents that he has had to deal with."

He nodded his head.

"Ready Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked Mr. Weasley that had just apparated silently beside them.

"As always. Lets get this motorbike on the road."

Same old Mr. Weasley. They strolled over to the nondescript door and with three heavy thuds on the door, it was opened by none other than Alastor Moody. His heavy face marred in scars barked out, "Password!"

"Relax Mad-Eye, it's only me and Molly along with Harry. The password is Phoenix."

"Hmm," Mad-Eye's magical eye focused on his forehead at which he jabbed his wand, "I will believe you if only because of the scar. Dumbledore told me in advance. Get in quickly."

Mr. Weasley gave an easy chuckle as if he found Moody's antics funny, "If you say so Alastor."

They entered the candle-lit entrance corridor where the portrait of Mrs. Black was absently quiet. Chalking it up to charms, he continued on to the meeting room with the Weasleys where he found everyone from snarling Snape to ancient Elphias Doge... but no Fleur.

Taking his seat beside Kingsley Shacklebolt, he met the inquisitive look of Tonks and with his eyes promised a talk after the meeting ended and met the deadly stare of Professor McGonagall that he tried to shy away from that starkly informed him that he would be in a world of hurt as soon as he stepped back onto Hogwarts grounds.

"Are we all here? Excellent! Alastor don't be shy, take your seat," Dumbledore's voice carried over from the head of the tables.

Mad-Eye Moody, being the only one not seated, grumbled to himself before plunking on the farthest stool that he could find. All the while, he kept on track of everyone with his normal eye while his magical one wheezed that way and that – trying to find an intruder that wasn't supposed to be there.

Dumbledore at last stood up and spread his arms as all grew quiet, "Friends! Thank you for gathering around on such short notice and especially on such a joyous occasion but unfortunately a matter has come up which requires our immediate attention. The International Confederation of Wizards has flared with activity recently as the French Ministry of Magic seeks to gain permission to station aurors in exchange for providing infamous battle mages to help combat the threat posed by Voldemort.

"If I must remind you, battle mages are magical combat personnel that have seen use in magical wars such as in the war with Grindelwald for example and are put into service only in times of crises – when they are most needed. France has a permanent contingency of these troops while we have dissolved our own after the fall of the Empire – a short-sighted decision in retrospect but what has been done cannot be reversed unfortunately.

"Now the question stands whether to accept their decision and as I have been previously the head of the prestigious body and now am the British delegate to it, I more or less have the honour to decide whether this transaction shall go through or not. I would like now to know your opinions on this matter."

A silence descended on the room before Remus spoke up, "What was the pretext with which this was proposed?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "There was no pretext given."

The room exploded into chatter and quiet discussion as this appeared to be a big deal. He could hear 'hidden intentions' and 'backstabbing' being mentioned more times than there were people in the room. Nonetheless, he didn't need to discuss this deal with others to understand why the French wanted to station their agents inside of the country. They wanted him.

"I propose we go through with the motion," he spoke up.

"And why is that Harry?" Dumbledore never looked more curious... or suspicious.

If they wanted him, then they could come and damn well take him. After they dealt with Voldemort that is. They could do this by serving as a nice target practice distraction while he skirted around with Ron and Hermione exposing the chinks in the monster's armour.

More men to combat Voldemort's Death Eaters was also nice. Who knew, maybe with enough luck the Death Eaters and the French battle mages would end up exterminating each other?

"If there is an attack on the Ministry of Magic, additional French forces increase the chance of us being able to stall such an attack or repel it entirely. As well, an addition of support enhances our moral which would mean that more wizards would stand and fight than otherwise run away cowardly far away where they couldn't get hurt."

"Unless of course these people are running away from the French," Snape unhelpfully added, seemingly fulfilling his being-a-dick quota of the day.

"Still a valid point presented by Harry, Severus. Any counterpoints?"

The talks continued on for hours on end until finally a consensus was reached amongst the majority of the members that while it would be better not to have the French interfere, due to the losses sustained with Voldemort's first rise to power, they couldn't exactly face Voldemort alone again and all help would be appreciated.

"Well that would be all good folk. I officially call this meeting to a close with the conclusion that we should accept the French offer. I bid you all happy holidays and a Merry Christmas!"

Everybody rose collectively from their seats and he got to finally stretch his back. Finally! He thought his mind would explode when Kingsley started discussing increased export taxes in relation to a stronger galleon. No wonder he hadn't been allowed in here before – he didn't even know if he should be even allowed to attend now. It had less to do with his age than his understanding – never before had he realised just how little he knew of the magical world's politics and economy.

"Wotcher Harry," said his least favourite metamorphmagus, "How's it hanging with you and your 'sexscapade'?"

"Tonks," he growled out perhaps a bit more forcefully than he had intended. Teeth might have been shown as well.

"Eep!" and off she ran leaving him behind bewildered.

He never thought girls could make such weird sounds. He was such an idiot. He was letting her run free! He broke out of his stupor and sprinted after her trailing purple sneakers.

Dodging corners and cutting across corridors after climbing up two rows of stairs, he finally pinned Tonks in an upper room that seemed to have come straight out of Victorian England.

"Give up, your surrounded," he grunted from all the running that she had made him do.

Tonks leaned against the table frame and folded her hands across her chest, "Oh no. I am trapped! Whatever will my captor do with me?"

The blush that started forming was quickly shot down when he remembered that this was the diva that had been blurting out to others about his 'adventure'. If she told Bill and broke the Confundus by accident...

"I am going to make sure that you don't badmouth me again."

"Oh really," Tonks gave him a coy smile and angled her head, "And however are we going to do that? Surly we are not going to hit an innocent girl?"

He closed in and pressed his lips deep into Tonks's own. Tonks seemed to freeze for a second before she responded in turn and soon they were making out in some long forgotten room, everybody else forgotten.

Perhaps it was the sexual tension, perhaps it was Fleur's lucrative body or perhaps it was Ginny's earlier demonstration but he couldn't stop himself. He had been denied for too long and this felt amazing.

He pushed in gently with his tongue as if asking for permission and Tonks let him in as he deepened the kiss. Finally, they separated. He stared into her eyes and she stared into his.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" he murmured as he examined her bare, succulent shoulders.

"Have you ever made love before?" she bit her lip in a manner that made his heart beat all the more faster.

"No," he could physically feel his breath on his cheeks.

Tonks gave him a toothy smile as her hair turned blonde, "Let me show you."

He could only nod. This was the best Christmas of his life.