Christmas
When Harry woke the following morning, he immediately threw back his blanket and walked to Tonks's room. One glance through her open door showed a still-made bed. With anxiety gnawing at his stomach, Harry dressed and made his way downstairs, smelling breakfast. Perhaps Ted and Andi had word from their daughter. As he entered the sitting room on his way to the kitchen, he stopped short, breathing a sigh of relief.
Tonks was fast asleep on the sofa, sprawled on her back with one still-booted foot hanging off the side. The other was bare, and Harry noticed a trail of various clothing leading from the foyer to the sofa, as if she had undressed in motion. He could make out one hand clenching her wand to her side, and her mouth was slightly open as she breathed rather noisily, quite possibly due to the cat curled up on her chest, glaring at Harry with golden eyes.
Grinning, Harry quietly stepped past. "Told you I don't want Nutella," she mumbled as he did. He jumped, startled, but her eyes remained closed, her hair a random mix of navy and yellow. Stifling a chuckle, he continued on his route.
"Good morning, Harry," Andromeda called from the stove.
"Good morning," he replied, much happier now that Tonks had returned safely. "Does Tonks, er, Dora normally crash on the sofa?"
"I wouldn't know, but she stumbled in around five, asleep before she even laid down. I don't think she noticed me at all."
"Knowing my daughter, she'll wake up when she smells the food," Ted contributed as his wife brought over eggs and bacon.
He was proven right by the time they wiped their plates clean. After a thump and a curse, a thoroughly bleary-eyed, rumpled Tonks stumbled into the kitchen, her hair completely flat on one side and sticking in all directions on the other.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Harry said cheerfully.
She mumbled something unintelligible, staring at the wall behind him as she fell into a seat. Draining the mug of coffee Ted slid her way, she alternately blinked and widened her eyes for a good minute or so before she looked around with a sleepy smile.
"Good morning, sweetheart," Andi said, smiling gently. "Would you like some breakfast?" Tonks nodded. "Eggs? Sausage? Bacon? Toast? Potatoes?"
"Yes," Tonks answered fervently, and they chuckled.
Harry was tempted into snagging a few more sausages although his stomach was nearly full to bursting. Mrs. Weasley had competition when it came to matters of the kitchen. Tonks filled her own plate with loads of everything and gulped a glass full of pumpkin juice before eating with unabashed enthusiasm.
"What are your plans for today?"Andromeda addressed them both.
He shrugged, but Tonks stopped chewing long enough to answer. "Sleep and shower, and then I need to do some Christmas shopping."
"Baby, it's Christmas Eve."
"Exactly. What about you, Harry?"
"I'm done with my shopping," he replied. "The teachers set us homework, so I suppose I'll start on that."
"At least someone doesn't procrastinate around here," Andi said approvingly.
"Let us know if you need any help, Harry," said Ted. "Well, let Dromeda know. She was Head Girl in our day."
Harry was impressed, although he supposed that as a Healer, she would have needed good marks.
"Oh, go on," Andi said modestly. "It's been years. I'm sure I don't remember a thing."
"Mum, don't be so humble. You're the only reason I passed my Potions N.E.W.T. As if Sevvie ever passed on anything useful."
"Perhaps if you had spent less time in detentions, you would have had more time to study."
"And take away all my fun?" Tonks laughed but quickly ceased, wincing as she held one hand to her ribs.
Like a hawk, Andi's eyes zeroed in on the offending noise. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Tonks protested impatiently, twisting away from her mother's probing hands. "Just a bruise is all. Sam took care of it."
Andromeda tutted, still attempting to pull up her daughter's shirt to check her for wounds. "Not to insult Samuel, for he's always taken good care of you, but those medi-Aurors aren't very thorough."
"I don't mind dealing with a few cuts and bruises if it means I'm dodging the curses. They don't have time to be neat," Tonks said, spilling her eggs while twisting away from Andi's probing hands.
Mother and daughter tussled for a moment until with a noise of impatience Tonks dropped her fork and removed her shirt completely, resuming her breakfast as if eating in nothing but a brassiere was a commonplace occurrence.
Clearly it was not. Andromeda exclaimed with exasperation, reversing her actions and attempting to put the shirt back on, while Tonks calmly explained that both now had what they wanted and could her mother please get on with whatever she was doing so she could eat in peace.
Harry froze. Her bra was electric blue and silky and curvy and, well, perky and—Harry you idiot stop staring at her. He dropped his face to his plate, so close the steam from the sausage fogged his glasses.
It was Ted who put an end to the row, folding his paper with a roll of his eyes. "Nymphadora, replace your shirt right now. This is ridiculous," he said sternly. "And Andromeda, let her eat. Clearly she isn't dying."
Amazingly, both women did just as he said with matching stubborn sets to their jaws, and Harry's initial comparison of Ted to Arthur Weasley was forever shattered.
"Harry," Ted began once everything was back to normal, Tonks still making astonishing amounts of food disappear and Andromeda cooking yet another dish. "Tonight is our annual family Christmas party at my parents' house. We'd love for you to come with, but if you're uncomfortable you're welcome to stay here or go visit a friend. Dora can take you wherever you'd like."
"Yes, apparently I'm your personal chauffeur, Harry," she said, giving her father a sidelong glance.
"But do come with us."
"Um, well sure," he decided. "That's nice, thank you."
Both were pleased. "Splendid," said Ted.
Finally clearing her plate, Tonks stood, stretching and yawning. "That's it for me. My bed is calling my—"
"Oh, bother!" Andi exclaimed crossly from the pantry.
"Problem, darling?"
"I promised I'd bring a Christmas cake tonight, and we're out of brandy. Ted, dear"
"You want me to go to the market on Christmas Eve? Are you mad?"
"Well, someone must, and I'm really very tired after staying up so late—"
"No one said you had to," Tonks piped up.
"—I was hoping for a rest since we'll be out tonight. Please, Ted, for your loving wife who has never, ever asked you to go to a Black family gathering although I attend yours every year?"
"Bit of a difference there, love," Ted said even as he stood. He winked at Harry. "Watch these two, son. They could talk you out of your vault if they had a mind to."
"I'm very aware of that," he replied, grinning when he caught Tonks' eye.
After Ted departed and Andi retired to her bedroom, Tonks and Harry cleaned their breakfast dishes and headed upstairs. She slid her arm around his waist, leaning into him, and he felt a stiffness to her gait.
"Sorry about last night," she said quietly. "We'll plan another."
"It's okay." He paused, not knowing if he could ask, but then she spoke.
"Death Eater attack up in Glasgow. Apparently the owner of an apothecary got on their bad side, and things quickly got out of hand. Bloody mess. Those damn pamphlets the Ministry sent out over the summer aren't doing a lick of good; no one can defend themselves properly, and we can't be everywhere."
Harry pulled her closer. "So, rough night?"
She smiled wearily. "I've had worse. And this is what I signed up for. I don't mind the duels, I just wish I felt like I accomplished something. And then there's the exhaustion that comes later."
"I noticed. Bedroom too far to walk?"
She laughed. "There was no way I was climbing the stairs. I aimed for the first semi-cushioned surface in sight." Having reached her room, Tonks sank onto her bed with a sigh, rubbing her side again.
Harry took a seat next to her. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Fine. Just a bruised rib is all. I'll take a potion later. My head hurts, but sleep will fix that."
"Where does it hurt?" he asked. Knitting her brow, she tapped her forehead. Harry leaned forward, lightly kissing the place she indicated. "Anywhere else?"
"Here." She pointed at her jaw, a small smile spreading across her face. He kissed her jaw, and she pointed to her neck. "And here." She indicated her lips. "And here, really here."
"How bad?"
"Terrible"
"Quit fidgeting, you're quite dashing," Tonks said, tightening her grip on Harry's hand as they walked up the drive to Ted's parents' home, Ted and Andi in front of them (Christmas cake in hand).
Harry tugged at the collar of his blue shirt. "Yeah?"
"You should dress up more often."
"I don't know about that." Unlike Tonks, who seemed as at home in her black skirt and red jumper as she did in torn jeans and a Quidditch jersey, Harry was distinctly uncomfortable in the brand-new slacks she'd picked out.
His discomfort increased when they entered the house. Ted had a large family, many with his fair hair and round face, and all converged on them as soon as they walked in. Harry never felt at ease around strangers, this group particularly so. All were Muggles, and according to Tonks only part of the family knew of magic. What would he say when they asked him questions? Did they know he was only sixteen?
"Bit overwhelming, isn't it?" Andi said in a low voice.
Harry turned around, grateful for a familiar face. "Understatement."
"They're all perfectly nice. And you have an advantage over me; think of how it was to come here after a life of proper pureblood affairs. Not a house-elf in sight."
Harry laughed. That, at least, was true.
"Dora, Dora, Dora!"
A small girl broke through the crowd, throwing herself at Tonks, who tossed her up in the air before giving her a tight hug. The girl squealed with delight.
Tonks made her way back to Harry's side. "Harry, this is Emma. Don't tell anyone, but she's my favorite cousin."
"Hello, Emma," he said.
She regarded him for a long moment with wide blue eyes before burying her face in Tonks' shoulder.
"Oh, someone's shy today," Tonks teased, winking at Harry. "I think she likes you, babe."
She pulled Harry with her, small child still attached. He met relative after relative, forgetting names as soon as he heard them, except for Adam, the cousin he'd seen in the picture at Hogwarts.
They were a jolly lot, and though clearly curious, none made Harry feel unwelcome or ill at ease. Like Ted, the entire family called Tonks 'Dora', and it was struggle to remind himself to refer to her as such, since she was clearly not the only Tonks here.
Dinner was a lavish affair, course after course sent his way. Harry stuffed himself with roast turkey, ham, potatoes, parsnips, sausages, cranberry sauce, and more vegetables than he could count. Just when he thought he couldn't handle anything more, dessert was served, and Harry was forced to make room for Christmas cake and pudding and trifle.
Afterward the adults retired to rub their stomachs, pull Christmas crackers, and sip wine (Harry stopped after two glasses, lightheaded). Gifts were exchanged amongst the children, and the house grew alight with high-pitched squeals and bits of brightly colored gift-wrap. They began to split into various groups, and when Tonks excused herself, Harry found himself in the library with several of her cousins. Fortunately, he found a way to answer questions about himself without lying or revealing too much. Everyone seemed satisfied, and Harry was glancing at a collection of Shakespeare when he heard an unfamiliar, female voice behind him.
"You like Shakespeare?"
He turned around. "Er, I have an interest," he answered.
A smiling young woman with a sheet of long blonde hair took a step closer, extending her hand while her eyes ran up and down. There was something too much about her smile. "I don't believe we officially met. I'm Emily."
Harry reached out to take her hand. "I'm—"
"—with me." A different hand took his before he could grasp Emily's. Tonks offered a very dazzling, very fake smile, her eyes hard. "Hello, Emily."
"Hello, Dora." She cast an eye at Harry's hand, still firmly clenched by Tonks. "Possessive as always, I see."
Tonks smirked. "I just don't want him to get slag on his hands. I hear it's hard to wash off."
Harry took a step backward. Tonks' tone was laced with malice, the barbed words she and her cousin continued to trade a demonstration of spite he'd never seen her display.
"That's it, back away slowly, mate," a low voice said over his shoulder.
A few of her male cousins beckoned him out of the room. He followed them down the hall and into the kitchen, where they pried open containers of leftovers.
"Ten quid on Dora if they get into it again," said Adam, offering ham to Harry.
"Does this happen often?" Harry asked, declining.
One laughed. "Dora and Emily are only a month apart. They've never gotten along, but a few years ago they actually got into a fight. I mean to say, fists flying, hair yanking fight. They had to be pulled apart. It was brilliant."
"What happened?"
"Oh, there was some bloke involved. A friend of Emily's that Dora dated. Or was it the other way around?"
"I thought Aunt Andi was going to murder her." Adam laughed. "It was worse than the time we snuck a bottle of vodka to the basement during Granny Tonks' birthday party and got pissed." Harry smiled, for he could see her doing that, but something struck him about Tonks arguing with her cousin over a boy. He racked his brain; a detail was eluding him, but he couldn't place it. Shrugging it off, he accepted a soft drink, sipping absentmindedly.
"Should we check on them?" he asked.
One of the older ones waved him off. "Nah, we haven't heard screams yet. Best to let them get sorted on their own."
"Which is what Uncle Ted and Uncle Connor should have done last time," Adam stated. "Dora would have mauled her."
"I can't believe you side against your own sister."
Adam held up his hands in defense. "I love Emily, but I grew up in the same house with her. I know better than anyone how mean she can be."
Harry chuckled. He never would have taken the lascivious girl and this easy-going man for siblings, even if there was a distinct resemblance. Draining his drink, he threw it away. "I think I'll go find Dora now."
"Watch out for the catfight," someone advised to much laughter.
Another clapped a meaty hand on his shoulder before he left. "Be good to Dora, yeah? She doesn't have any brothers, so it's up to us to watch out for her."
"Wouldn't dream otherwise," Harry promised.
When he returned to the library, no one was to be found. He followed the sounds of childish laughter down the hall, where he came upon an interesting sight. Tonks dashed around the room with three small children. All four held drinking straws, brandishing them like swords and laughing loudly.
"I got you! I got you, Lucy!" the boy yelled. The girl named Lucy fell back on the sofa with a cry, where she lay not quite still, giggling.
"Come on, Davey!" Emma cried, chasing Tonks. "Help me get Dora!"
The boy joined in the pursuit, thrusting his straw forward. Tonks 'parried', backing up until she tripped on a table.
Emma waved her straw wildly, nowhere near Tonks, but apparently she landed a blow. "Haha! Got you, Dora!"
Tonks let out an exaggerated moan, stumbling drunkenly as she held her hand over her heart. After a very drawn-out death scene, she finally collapsed on the floor, letting her tongue hang out with a final groan and twitch.
"We won! We won!" Emma and Davey shouted, jumping up and down together. Alive once again, Lucy joined in, but Tonks stayed where she was, unmoving.
"Um, Dora?" Davey called uncertainly. "It's just a game. You can get up now."
Tonks didn't move. "Dora, get up," Emma said, shaking her hand when Tonks still didn't budge. Emma turned to her cousins with her hands over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers. "I think we killed her."
Tonks groaned faintly, and all three kids whirled around. "Help me," she wheezed. "Need kiss"
With a gasp, Emma leaned down and kissed Tonks' cheek noisily.
"No" Tonks moaned. "From a prince."
"But we don't know a prince," Lucy wailed. It was all Harry could do not to laugh.
Emma looked around frantically, spotting Harry at the door. She ran to him as fast as her short legs would go and grabbed his hand, pulling him to Tonks. "You have to help her, Harry," she begged.
"Are you a prince?"
"I don't know, but I guess I can try," replied Harry gamely.
He knelt by Tonks' side, pillowing the auburn head on his knees. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Cupping her face in his hands, Harry leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, and a wide grin split her face.
"I'm alive!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet.
Davey and Lucy yelled joyfully, each hugging one of her legs, but Emma stared at Harry in awe.
"Harry, are you truly a prince?" she whispered.
"He must be," Tonks said, sliding her arms around his waist. "My hero." She batted her eyelashes and kissed him on the cheek, winking.
When the children resumed their game, Tonks and Harry slipped away, walking down the hall with their arms around each other.
"Sorry, about earlier," Tonks said suddenly. "Emily's the spawn of Satan, and she brings out the worst in me."
"So I heard."
She groaned. "Whatever they told you, it's not true. Or I was young and stupid."
"As opposed to the wise matron I see before me?"
"Precisely." They shared a laugh, and Harry planted a kiss in her hair. "But in all seriousness, thank you for coming. Everyone really likes you."
"I've actually had a nice night."
"You trying to stay on my good side?"
"Something like that."
Tonks stopped, flicking a glance in either direction before pushing him toward the wall. "Little do you know I'm bad all over"
Her lips were on his neck, and Harry froze, certain this was not something to be doing in anybody's grandmother's house no matter how enjoyable it was. He tried to say something, but Tonks shushed him, moving her mouth to press against his and slipping her tongue inside with ease. Harry gave in, his heart beating rapidly against the lithe body he pulled close.
"Do you want to get out of here?" she murmured in his ear when they parted for air. Not trusting himself to speak, Harry nodded.
They said quick goodbyes to her family, told her parents she was tired after her long night, pried a crying Emma off her leg, and apparated back to her house in no time at all. Tonks was all over him the minute the door shut. This was nothing like the leisurely kisses they exchanged when stretched in front of the fire; this was a fierce hunger that built in his belly and spread all over, leaving him with a desire that couldn't be quenched no matter how much his lips traveled over her mouth, cheeks, jaw, neck. When his hands spanned her waist and she lifted her arms, he didn't hesitate in pulling the jumper over her head, discarding it on the floor along with their shoes.
Harry groaned at the sight of that blue bra he couldn't stop thinking about and immediately pressed kisses on her shoulders, enjoying the gasp he received. Merlin, her skin was so warm. Tonks began unbuttoning his shirt before stopping in impatience and yanking it over his head, immediately claiming his lips again. There wasn't enough air in the world, and he never wanted it to stop. She whispered something that Harry couldn't make out over the roaring in his ears, but he got the gist of it when they began to stumble up the stairs, hampered by their clenching embrace and wandering mouths. Tonks was pinned against the wall, knocking a vase over, and then suddenly he was the one with the wall at his back as her hands roamed his chest. Then they were on his bed, Tonks pushing him down and straddling his waist. Harry couldn't believe this was happening; his pulse raced and flames licked at his skin when her fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt— The unmistakable sound of a door swinging shut made both jump, and Tonks was off his bed and headed for the door before Harry knew what was happening.
"Have to take a rain check," she said, the most wicked smile on her face, and then she was gone. Harry stared at the ceiling for a few moments, letting his rise and fall of his chest slowly return to normal. The situation had ended as quickly as it escalated, and his head was still spinning. Not for the first time, Harry compared Parvati and Tonks. Parvati had been willing enough to initiate snogging, but they had never gone further than that. In fact, Harry used to spend most of the time wondering what to do with his hands. Tonks didn't make a secret of what she wanted, and Harry didn't think at all when they were together.
It was, he supposed as he began to change, simply part of messing around with an older woman. Not that he minded, or so he thought. Harry squashed any and all doubts about the speed of the relationship as he placed his clothes in the laundry bin. From his first day here, his dirty clothing had a way of disappearing and then reappearing in clean piles inside his wardrobe, although he was supremely embarrassed when neatly folded underpants were on top. Searching for the shirt he'd worn, Harry came to an awful realization.
It was still downstairs. With, unless Tonks had picked them up, various other pieces of clothing in a clear trail to his bedroom. Harry sped down, but no clothing nor out of place furniture was to be found. Assuming Tonks had cleaned and sighing with relief, he turned to return to his bed.
"Looking for this?"
Gritting his teeth, Harry turned around to see Ted in his armchair, holding up a rumbled blue shirt. Harry's shirt.
"Have a seat, son."
Accepting the offending article, Harry did so, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming conversation. Harry very much desired to stay on Ted's good side, as much because he genuinely liked Ted and Andi as because he wanted to continue seeing their daughter. He couldn't, however, say he was nervous; after facing Dark wizards, protective parents didn't offer much of a threat.
"Are you in love with my daughter, Harry?" Ted finally said.
That was unexpected. Thrown off balance, Harry scrambled for a truthful answer. "No, I don't think so," he replied honestly.
"I see."
"But I think I could, someday," Harry amended quickly. "I just—well, I'm not sure."
Ted smiled. "Relax, son. I'm not going to give you the 'hurt my daughter and I'll break your neck' speech. Dora is more capable of taking care of herself than I am, and from what she says, so are you."
"Oh. Okay."
"I just want to tell you two things. First, I hope that you understand what you're getting into with Dora." He shifted position, clearing his throat. "Although neither she nor her mother will admit it, she takes after Dromeda's family much more than mine. She's ruled by passion, and passion is a tricky bedfellow. Dora lives by her own rules, and unfortunately we probably encouraged that when she was a child. I can't say we didn't indulge her a little too often."
Harry frowned. "So you're saying that at some point in time, Tonks—Dora—will just what? Change her mind?" As suddenly as we started, he added silently.
"Not at all. I'm giving you friendly advice, Harry. I adore my wife and my daughter, but I also know they can be hard to deal with if they choose. I'd hate to see either one of you get hurt. And I'm not going to lie—you're sixteen, and she's twenty-two. That's a big difference at your age, in both experience and expectations, and I won't pretend that it doesn't make me uncomfortable." He held up one hand. "I'm not objecting. She's a grown woman and can date whomever she wants, and you're a fine young man."
"Thank you, sir."
Ted smiled. "Just calling it how I see it. And onto more unpleasant manners" He nodded at the shirt in Harry's hands, and Harry flushed. "As I said, she's an adult, and it's her life. But it's still my house, Harry. Keep that in mind."
"Yes, sir," he said respectfully, all but squirming.
Ted chuckled as he stood, winking as he passed. "It's Ted, son. Goodnight."
Harry watched him leave, fiddling with the shirt under his fingers. That was not the conversation he expected to have, and as he headed for the stairs, he felt a surge of new respect for Ted Tonks.
"Happy Christmas, Harry!"
"Mmnfff"
"Out of bed, sleepyhead."
Harry reluctantly forced his eyes open, groping for his glasses on the nightstand. A fuzzy figure on the foot of his bed sharpened into Tonks, smiling brightly in the early morning light that filtered through the curtained window. Harry clenched his blanket in his hands, wishing he had chosen to sleep in more than just his pants.
Unaware of (or simply ignoring) his discomfort, Tonks climbed forward to place a kiss on his cheek.
"Happy Christmas, Harry."
"Happy Christmas, Do–, er, Tonks. How many cups of coffee have you had?"
"Two." That explained a lot. "Here, I brought you one, my special blend. I made breakfast, so dress and come downstairs."
In the kitchen he found Ted and Andi in dressing gowns with half-smiles and warm mugs of coffee while Tonks placed tall stacks of pancakes on the table. As they ate (and wakened), Harry had to admit Tonks was right—she could cook. It was delicious, and it was with satisfyingly full bellies that they exchanged presents.
The rest of Christmas morning passed agreeably. Ted and Andi were genuinely appreciative of the gifts he'd purchased under Tonks' guidance, and in exchange they gave him a thick wool coat, something greatly needed given that his current jacket was a leftover of Dudley's riddled with holes. For her part, Tonks surprised him with a pair of tickets to a Puddlemere United–Chudley Cannons match during the summer, and both laughed when he handed her a pair of tickets for a Weird Sisters concert for the weekend following.
Around midday Harry stood looking outside into the garden and sipping hot cocoa. The Tonkses were as kind as the Weasleys had ever been, but something was missing. Something that separated him from the little traditions and idiosyncrasies every family shared.
He smiled when a warm hand touched his back. "No brooding allowed on Christmas, babe," Tonks said, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"I'm not brooding."
She quirked an eyebrow. "You're always brooding. You brood and I tease. It's how we work. What are you thinking about?"
"Last Christmas." He paused. "Sirius was so happy."
"He was always happy when you were around." She kissed his cheek, and they stood quietly for a long moment before Tonks nudged him. "God rest ye merry hippogriffs," she sang in an exaggeratedly deep voice. "And let's all get laid."
"Those aren't the words!" he exclaimed, laughing.
"They were when Sirius and I were wand deep in a bottle of firewhiskey. C'mon."
Tonks dragged Harry back to the living room where she prodded her mother to tell stories of Sirius, from their childhoods all the way until he left for Azkaban. That, of course, led to more, and soon scrapbooks appeared. Halfway through one when Tonks was a little girl, Harry turned the page and stared in surprise at a picture of his father with a turquoise-plaited girl sitting on his lap.
"You didn't tell me you knew my parents," he said, glancing at Tonks.
"Well, I didn't, really. Your dad came round with Sirius a few times. Sirius and Remus babysat me once. Remember, Mum? I got lost at the zoo."
"How could I forget?" she answered dryly. "They found you with the elephants, and I didn't speak to Sirius for weeks."
Ted grinned. "I'm surprised you don't remember Harry's father better. If I recall correctly, you were determined to marry him."
"What?" Harry blurted out.
Tonks buried her face in her hands. "Oh Merlin," she mumbled.
"That's right," Andromeda mused, smiling at her daughter's discomfiture. "I had forgotten. Harry,she followed your father wherever he went, dragging a stuffed wolf Remus gave her, and insisted on sitting next to him at all times. James brought your mother over once, and Nymphadora had a conniption."
"Mother! Must you?"
Tonks was ignored. "Lily, bless her, was quite amused. She told Nymphadora they'd have to duel for him, and then my daughter, too smart for her own good, stole my wand when I wasn't looking,
marched right up to her, and waved it wildly, turning everyone's hair purple."
"Pink," Tonks ground out with a look that could kill. "If you insist on telling the bloody story, get it right. Pink. It was the same color as mine."
"So you do remember," Harry accused her, greatly amused. "Then what happened?"
"I put her in time-out. She screamed, threw her shoe at me, received a spanking, and was sent to her room where she had a temper tantrum until James said he couldn't kiss her goodbye if she was crying." Andromeda sighed. "I've never been so mortified."
"Now I know how you felt," muttered Tonks, and even she finally joined in the laughter. Later, Harry caught Tonks in the hallway before she went to bed. "Why didn't you tell me you fancied my dad?"
"Merlin, Harry, I barely remember. If you want to know about every childhood crush I had, we'll be here for a long time."
"Is that why you like me?" Harry teased. "Because I look like my father?"
"But of course. I'm living out the fantasies I had when I was a four-year-old." Tonks made a face before leaning in to kiss his nose, her brown eyes shining when she pulled back. "I like you because I can make you smile, and you don't smile enough."
Harry pulled her close for a deep kiss, telling himself he wasn't going to worry about her motives any longer.
Boxing Day dawned cold and windy. A thick layer of snow had appeared overnight and continued to fall. Undeterred by the inclement weather, Tonks dragged Harry out after breakfast. They meandered aimlessly, her arm in his and heads bent together in an intimate fashion.
They came upon a group of excited children riding plastic sledges down a gentle hill, ending well before the snow bank that had been pushed up on the edge of a road. Tonks and Harry stopped for a moment to watch, and as they were about to leave, a boy ran up.
"Hey miss! You wanna have a go?"
Harry saw the spark of challenge in her eyes as soon as she glanced at him, but with a smile she turned back to the boy and demurred.
"Go on, miss!" he insisted. "You ain't scared, are ya?"
That, of course, was the match to the kindling, and before Harry knew what was happening, Tonks was pulling him over to the bright red sledge. "No way," he protested.
"Don't be a chicken, Harry," she replied blithely, pushing him down onto the sledge as she was encouraged by the kids.
Tonks settled in front of him. Harry thought he heard her whisper something, but before he could ask the kids gave them a push and they were off.
It's not so bad, he thought, the air filtered with the sound of Tonks' laughter flashing past him as stray purple hair fluttered in his face. About halfway down the slope, he grew concerned. They were beginning to fly past the others, and when they hit a slight bump he swore they went airborne. Faster and faster they went, picking up speed even as the slope leveled out. The normal stopping point flew past, the ride bumpy due to the lack of worn paths. And suddenly the embankment of snow grew larger and larger, until—
"Shit!" Harry yelled as they crashed into it.
He didn't know which way was up or down as two sets of limbs were tossed in the air, the sledge shooting off into the distance. When gravity reasserted itself, Harry found himself face down in a pile of snow, arms and legs akimbo. He sat up dizzily, wiping the snow off his glasses. What had she done to the bloody sledge? And where was she?
A spitting noise drew his attention, and Harry turned around to see Tonks on the other side of the bank, clearing her mouthful of snow. She'd completely lost her scarf and her hat was sideways, but her expression was pure glee.
"What did you do?" he said in a low voice, mindful of the approaching group of children.
"Nothing," she replied with an all too innocent face. "Only sped it up a little. Perhaps I overdid it."
"How did that happen?" the sledge's owner asked, awed.
Tonks shrugged and glanced at Harry. "Physics," he said. "We weigh more."
"That was brilliant!"
"Yeah. Hey, thanks for that," Tonks said as she stood on wobbly legs, nearly toppling over.
Harry slipped a steadying arm over her shoulders as they left. "When was the last time I told you you're mental?"
"I'd say you're due."
"You're mental. Cute, but mental."
After lunch Tonks and Harry apparated to Hermione's house in Oxfordshire, something he and Hermione had arranged days before. He was curious to see where she grew up—he expected a neat place with many books, and with luck, he'd hear embarrassing stories about her childhood, too.
"Harry!" Hermione greeted him at the door with a hug. "Hi, Tonks."
"Wotcher, Hermione." The home was nearly Dursley-immaculate with a number of knick knacks which Tonks gave a wide berth.
"Mum, Dad, you remember Harry. And this is Tonks, another friend of mine."
They greeted each other courteously. Harry had met the Grangers but only in passing, in Diagon Alley or at King's Cross. He decided Hermione favored her father more than her mother.
"Do you attend Hogwarts, too?" Mr. Granger asked Tonks.
"No, I finished a few years ago. I'm an Auror now."
"Oh, what's that?" Mrs. Granger asked with polite interest.
"I work in law enforcement, but it's more specialized than your average policeman. You see"
Tonks led the Grangers into their living room, chatting away. Left behind, Harry and Hermione exchanged an amused look.
"She makes friends wherever she goes," Harry remarked.
"They're always quite keen to hear more about the wizarding world. I think they find it hard to relate. Come on, I'll show you my room."
Hermione's room, as predicted, was neat and proper. A flowered quilt covered the bed, and two bookcases were filled with tomes ranging from dog-eared paperbacks to volumes the size of encyclopedias. Harry fingered a few ribbons and trophies from her primary school days, resisting the urge to laugh when she carefully rearranged a ribbon he pulled loose.
He pointed to a wall hanging of the University of Cambridge crest. "Cambridge?"
"When I was a kid, it was my dream to go there." Hermione smiled. "I suppose not anymore."
"Why not?" Harry countered, sitting in her desk chair. "Think they could convert N.E.W.T.'s to Alevels?"
She laughed. "Can you imagine a Muggle trying to make sense of advanced ancient runes or arithmancy? I don't think university is for me anymore. I'd like to go into the Ministry and really make a difference, you know?"
"You could bring Dobby in as a case study," suggested Harry, trying not to snigger. Hermione's eager ambitions for house-elf reform were well-known and just slightly too aggressive.
"Shut it, Harry." The clinking of breaking glass echoed down the hall, and they shared a smile, knowing the source. "So, how is your holiday?"
He shrugged. "Can't complain. Tonks likes to go shopping, so we've been to London a few times, and we watch a lot of films. She made me watch all three Star Wars movies in one day."
"You spend all your time with Tonks?"
He grinned, looking away. "Most of it."
"Isn't she a bit old for you?"
"Only six years," he retorted. "Not too much. What happened to good luck?"
"I meant it," she hastily replied. "I just hope others don't give you a hard time."
"I don't care what others say." There was an awkward, stretched-out silence. "Um, how's your holiday, Hermione?"
"Good," she said quickly. "We took the ferry over to Calais for a day, which was nice. I finished my homework early, so Mum and Dad let me go to Diagon Alley and get a new book on numerology."
Only for Hermione would that be a boon. "I've done most of my homework," Harry said.
She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I'm surprised."
"Well, I might have had help," he admitted with a grin. "Tonks is good at Transfiguration and DADA, and her mum helped me with Herbology and Potions. I never realized how much they go hand in hand. Potions are much easier if you know that fluxweed has healing properties instead of just remembering it goes into Polyjuice Potion."
"Not even your precious Half-Blood Prince book taught you that, did it?"
"Give it up, Hermione. You know Slughorn took it away weeks ago." Irritated by her refusal to forget about the edited book, Harry stood, a framed picture on the desk grabbing his attention. It was the three of them—Harry, Ron, and Hermione—at the Burrow before the Quidditch World Cup.
His stomach stirred uncomfortably.
"Have you spoken to him?" Her voice was soft, hesitant.
"No."
"Are you planning on it?"
"I already told you I would apologize for hexing him."
"No, I mean really talk." She sighed. "I know you miss each other."
He rolled his eyes. "Hermione, we're blokes. Ron and I are not pining away for each other. Besides, I have you and Neville and Luna." Even if it's not the same.
"You are both so ridiculously stubborn!" she burst out. "Harry, tell me the honest truth: why aren't you talking to Ron?"
"Because because he's jealous of things that are out of my control. Because he won't listen to anything I say." Harry struggled to put his animosity into words.
Hermione scoffed audibly. "I admit Ron gets jealous easily. It's one of his flaws, but I'm not going to end our friendship over it. Does it really outweigh all his good qualities?"
"You thought his accusations against Crookshanks were enough to never speak to him again."
"Crookshanks didn't eat the rat!" she snapped petulantly. "And too bad he didn't. Plus, that was three years ago." She leveled her gaze at him. "As for the second: you won't make a very good leader or a very good friend if you expect your friends to never question what you say. I've done it, and you aren't upset with me."
"It's different with you."
"Oh." She took a step backward. "Because my opinion doesn't matter as much."
"No! That's not what I meant!" he hurried to correct. "You're brilliant, Hermione. I'd probably be dead without you."
"Actually, I would have died in the girls' bathroom with the troll first year." They smiled in remembrance. "We can call it even."
"Hermione, tea's on!" Mrs. Granger called from the front of the house.
"Coming, Mum!" she replied before turning back to Harry. "Just try to talk to him, okay? You're both my best friends. And just so you know, I sent him a letter with the same advice," she said before he could object. "It's on both of you."
Harry mumbled something in acquiescence. What he hadn't told Hermione was that even if he could get Ron to talk to him, he didn't know if he could handle his temper again. Matters had spiraled out of control so quickly last time, and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse.
"Look, Hermione, she can change her face," exclaimed Mr. Granger.
Hermione smiled as Tonks grinned at them with the ever-popular pig nose. "Yes, Dad, I know."
"Tell me, is that common?" he persisted.
"Not at all," Tonks said, shifting to one that was so sharp it could have cut glass. "I'm very special."
Harry laughed at this factual declaration as he sat next to her.
Mrs. Granger served them tea and biscuits with a tolerant smile that didn't quite mesh with the anxiety in her eyes. "Yes, it's quite interesting, but, er Hermione, darling, why didn't you tell us about this dark lord?"
The room fell deathly silent; Harry listened for the proverbial crickets, sneaking a glance at Tonks out of the corner of his eye. Her heart-shaped face was an interesting mix of guilt and surprise. Hermione, apparently, was not only unsurprised, but she had been expecting it. "Actually, that's part of the reason I invited Harry and Tonks to visit. Mum, Dad, we need to talk."
With a captive audience, Hermione began the story of Lord Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix, and her involvement. From the deaths' of Harry's parents to the final task of the Triwizard Tournament to a very glossed-over Department of Mysteries, her parents reacted with varying degrees of shock, confirming Harry's long suspicion that while they had some inkling as to their daughter's activities at Hogwarts, they had no idea as to the magnitude of danger.
"That settles it," Mr. Granger said definitively when she finished. "You're not going back."
"Dad, I have to finish."
"I don't understand—why is this man after Harry?" Mrs. Granger asked in confusion. All looked to him. Harry shifted awkwardly. "It's a rather long story, but at this point in time I've escaped him so often he'll stop at nothing until one of us defeats the other. He can hold a bit of a grudge." Tonks was the only one who appreciated this humor.
Mr. Granger was unmoved. "I don't care. You're not going back, and that's final. I never imagined you would be in this kind of danger. What sort of school is this anyway, that allows students to be in harm's way all the time?"
Tonks spoke up. "If I may Hermione's experience is unusual. I survived seven years with no injuries other than those I caused myself. But I won't deny that it is a dangerous time to be a witch."
"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Granger.
When Hermione gave her an encouraging nod, Tonks continued. "I mentioned Voldemort on the fly earlier. He is the most talented dark wizards in modern times. Imagine a wizard version of who was that German nutter during World War II?"
"Hitler."
"Right. That bloke. He's very powerful, gaining allies every day, and he has an extreme prejudice against Muggle-borns such as Hermione. There are wizards who believe in maintaining the purity of blood; that is, only marrying other witches and wizards, and not allowing Muggle-borns into Hogwarts. My own mother was disinherited from her family for marrying a Muggle-born. Hermione, unfortunately, has the added danger of being friends with Harry, who is Voldemort's most hated enemy."
Harry's stomach clenched in knots. Another person's life in danger simply because they were associated with him.
As if reading his mind, both girls shook their heads. "Don't be stupid, Harry," Tonks muttered at the same time Hermione said, "Harry, I already told you. I'm with you all the way."
Harry smiled gratefully at both. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, believe me, if I could keep Hermione out of harm, I would."
"He would," Tonks interjected. "He's one of those self-sacrificing gits."
Squeezing her hand, he continued. "But the fact is that no matter if she attends Hogwarts or not, she's still at risk simply for who she is. Hogwarts, in fact, is the safest place to be these days."
"It really is," Tonks confirmed when they looked to her. Clearly she had earned some manner of trust from the Grangers in her position as an Auror, and Harry deduced that was what Hermione had planned. "Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, is the only one Voldemort fears, and he leads the movement against him."
"And that brings me to what I really want to talk about," said Hermione. She clasped her hands anxiously before continuing. "Mum, Dad, I want you to consider going into hiding."
Mrs. Granger simply blinked. Mr. Granger worked his jaw several times before anything emerged.
"Hiding? Whatever for?"
"I'm in the thick of it now, and I'm afraid it's only going to get worse. You aren't safe. They hate Muggles, Dad."
"But what could they possibly—"
"They would do it," Harry interrupted, staring at a fixed spot on the table, barely aware of Tonks' hand on his back. "Believe me. Because they'll think you might know something, or because it would draw Hermione, because it would be a way to get to me. She's right."
A look passed between Hermione's parents, two people clearly struggling to understand a foreign world that had seeped into their own. The worry etched on their faces brought to mind Andromeda, sitting up all night not reading a book until her own child returned safe and sound.
"Can we help?" Mrs. Granger finally asked.
Tonks furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry?"
"Surely we could do something. We may not use magic, but there must be something we can do. We're not letting you run off, Hermione. You're still a child. You're our child."
"Mum," began Hermione, but Tonks held up a hand.
"The Order of the Phoenix—that's the group that opposes him, I'm a member and these two practically are—will do all we can to protect you. It would probably be best if you left the country, but if you insist on staying, we can set up a safe house."
"And we would have to leave everything behind?" Mr. Granger asked, in a daze.
"More or less, yes. Do you have a piece of parchment, I mean, paper?" Mrs. Granger fetched some stationary and Tonks scribbled on it. "Here's the address of my parents' house and their telephone number. My Dad's family are Muggles, so they know how to use it. If you have any questions, contact them, and they'll get it to me. I mean it, okay? And Hermione, there's a meeting of the Order in a few days. A very important meeting you should probably attend. We can talk about this again then."
It became clear that Hermione's parents needed time to process the information and settle their upside-down world, as well as talk to their daughter privately. Tonks and Harry said their goodbyes, and Hermione saw them out.
"Thanks for the bloody ambush, Hermione," Tonks muttered once they were outside.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't know how to bring it up. You actually laid the groundwork for me quite well. Thank you so much, really. I worry about them."
"We'll keep them safe, Hermione," said Tonks firmly, and Harry nodded. "You have my word."
Harry put his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, I"
She nodded. "I know, Harry. I'll see you at school."
Before they apparated away, Tonks took Harry's face in her hands. "Do I need to talk you down from some 'this is all my fault' bullshit?"
He smiled involuntarily. "No. I just I hate this. It shouldn't have to be this way."
"Isn't that why we fight?"