Hey everybody, the Lonely Lorekeeper is back again, and I'm here with another chapter of To Date a Metamorph. Sorry for taking so long with the new chapter, I had a bunch of homework that came up and I had to work through, and I've been also busy trying to figure out what my original fanfiction is going to be. I think I have an idea of where I want to take the story, but I'm still working on it, still letting it work around a bit. I'll hopefully have it figured out by the time school's out, so I have the summer to work on it.
Once again, thank you all for the incredible responses you've been giving me. I love reading all of your reviews—or at least, most of your reviews—and they help me figure out what I can do better, and what I should try focusing on. So please, keep sending in the reviews, so that I can become a better writer and provide better content for all of you to enjoy. I've got big shoes to fill, after all—losthpfanficwriter was a great fanfictioneer, and his story Nymphadora's Beau was wonderful, and I hope to do half as well as he did.
Anyways, that's enough from me, let's get on with the story!
Chapter 6: The Whole Truth
True to Tonks' word, the next day found Harry rising early to head over to the Ministry of Magic. The previous night, he had been more than a little nervous about the coming meeting with Madam Bones. Tonks seemed to trust her, but Tonks also worked for her. Harry, however, was used to adults ignoring his plights in the past, and as hopeful Tonks might've been, he couldn't shake the nerves that fourteen years of being ignored had instilled in him.
Still, that morning Harry woke feeling more refreshed and well-rested than he had all summer so far. The bed that Tonks had magicked up for him was so much softer and nicer than his old one—in fact, he'd almost dare to say it was even nicer than the bed he had at Hogwarts. Laying there, wrapped up in the blankets and feeling a warmth surrounding him, he felt safe and relaxed—free from the nightmares that had plagued him since the Triwizard Tournament, free from the expectations of a cruel and unjust world, free.
And that was when he noticed that not just blankets were wrapped around him.
Harry froze, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Two long and slender arms encircled his chest, the soft and gentle hands laying over his heart and down near his navel, while a single long and sinfully smooth leg had reached around and hooked over one of his. He could feel a body leaning up against his back, two pillow-soft breasts pressing into him and doing terrible things to his hormones, and near the back of his neck, he could feel someone gently breathing, sending pleasant shivers down his spine.
Shivering, Harry turned slowly and shot a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, it was Tonks, though she looked different than the day before. She still looked like Tonks, mostly, but her hair was now a dark black, much like his own, and fell in a short wave of ringlets around her face. As for her face, it was just a bit sharper than before, with angles that looked more at place on a regal beauty's face than that of a punk rocker.
Harry stared in wonder. Was this what Tonks really looked like, under all of her metamorphic abilities? If so, he could see why she had wanted to change it, purely for aesthetic purposes alone. He did admit, though, that even this version of Tonks was incredibly attractive, but in an almost deadly, forbidden sort of way.
Harry was pulled from that line of thought when he started to hear Tonks begin to moan softly. It seemed like she was starting to wake up—or at least trying to, though her body seemed adamant about staying in bed, if her arms and legs wrapping ever more possessively around her were any indication. A bright blush spread across Harry's face at that, and he turned to try and quietly slip out of the bed without waking his surprise bedmate.
"Mmm…Harry?"
No such luck.
Again, Harry froze, and turned back to see Tonks still leaning into him, though her eyes began to blink away the sleep still in them. She had deep, hypnotic violet eyes, eyes that made it hard for Harry to not stare into. Harry gulped audibly before shooting the witch nestled up against him a small smile.
"Hey Tonks," he replied, "Have a…uh, have a nice sleep?"
Tonks blinked slowly back at him, and slowly her eyes changed from deep violet, to a kind of muddled grey, to finally a warm umber. She smiled and nodded, pulling away from him to stretch languidly on the bed, her hair quickly shifting back into its punkish style and bright pink color. "Mmm, I slept wonderfully, Harry, thank you for asking," Tonks replied, her face and form finally shifting fully back to her 'normal'. "You make a good pillow, you know."
Harry watched her stretch, his mouth becoming more than a little dry, and he felt a flash of heat spread across his face—he quickly looked away before she could notice. "Uh, no, I didn't…hey, Tonks? Why were you in my bed, anyway?"
Tonks paused in her stretches, a look of recollection flashing across her face, though Harry wasn't looking to see it. She remembered waking up last night to the sound of Harry's frightful screams and cries. She remembered bursting into his bedroom, finding him thrashing about in the midst of a terrible nightmare, and moving to comfort him. She then remembered her attempts to slip her way out of that comforting embrace, only to find herself stuck in place.
She'd had a good sleep, too. It was rare that she could so quickly get comfortable once she was in bed, but laying with Harry that night had just felt so calming, she'd passed out barely a moment after wishing him goodnight. And then there were the dreams she'd had, too—some pleasant, and some even more so. A faint blush spread across her face at the memory, one that she easily hid with her metamorphic powers.
Tonks, however, just smiled back at Harry and shrugged. "Turns out the couch wasn't as comfortable as I'd imagined, and there was no way in hell I'd try sleeping in either of the walrus's beds, so I thought I'd share with you. Hope it wasn't too much a bother."
Harry shook his head quickly, his blush fading a bit, though he had a feeling that was because his blood had all quickly moved in the opposite direction of his head very quickly. "No, no, it's fine," Harry replied, looking back over at Tonks with a nervous smile. "Just a bit of a surprise is all. Anyways, I'm going to go shower so I'm ready for the meeting with Madam Bones, okay?"
Before Tonks could say another word, Harry hopped up out of the bed, quickly grabbed a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and then darted out of the bedroom. Tonks watched Harry leave—his back was to her the entire way, but as he opened the door out into the hallway, she got a good glance at the bulge in the shorts he used as pajamas. She couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight, and softly laugh to herself. Well, that would certainly explain why he'd been so jumpy.
Of course, finding himself in bed with a beautiful woman could certainly have that effect.
Laughing to herself at that, Tonks finally stood up from the bed and began making her way down to the living room, where she quickly changed into the clothes she'd already pulled out of her moleskin pouch the previous evening. Then, once she was fully dressed, and with Harry still up in the shower, Tonks headed over to the kitchen, intent on making the two of them some kind of breakfast before they headed out.
The Dursleys, as it turned out, had more than plenty of food stored away in their kitchen. It actually disgusted Tonks—there was no possible way they actually ate enough food for the quantity she saw to be necessary. It was just the four of them, after all, yet in the fridge there was enough of all the food to feed a full Quidditch team for a few weeks.
Frowning, Tonks ignored her disgust and pulled a carton of eggs out.
When Harry finally walked down the stairs, freshly showered and fully dressed, Tonks was putting to death the last of a small grease fire that had burst up on the stove. The eggs were done, if a bit burnt, and she had decided to cook a few rashers of bacon in addition. The bacon ended up being her undoing, as some of the fat had spilled and ignited on the stovetop below.
Tonks turned around to see Harry staring in surprise, and she gave him a wane smile. "Oh, Harry! Sorry about the mess, I thought I could whip us up some breakfast while you were in the shower."
The grease fire sputtered quietly behind her before finally fizzling out.
Tonks laughed softly, rubbing the tip of her nose. "I'm…well, I'm not that good with cooking, I guess."
Harry's lips quirked up into a smirk. The sight of her, embarrassed and nervous while standing in the kitchen, helped to cut a bit of the tension he'd been feeling since that morning. It was almost hard to believe that the woman before him now was the same one that had been shamelessly flirting with him on and off the previous day. Then again, though, there were more sides to him than what most people saw, too.
"Hey, it happens to the best of us," he replied, remembering all of the times he'd accidentally started grease fires in the past. At least she hadn't accidentally burnt herself—or, worse, been hit because of the mistake. He smiled and stepped forward, giving the air a deep sniff. "Smells good, though."
Tonks smiled gently in return, glad he was choosing to humor her over this. After all, all she could smell was the foul odor from the grease fire. She laughed at that, then, and passed him a plate of eggs and bacon. "Well then, Mr. Potter, next time you can cook for us instead. How about that?"
"Sounds fine by me, Tonks," Harry replied, taking the plate and moving over the kitchen. "Less chance of accidentally burning the place down or tripping into the stove if I'm the one cooking."
Tonks's only response was to roll her eyes and toss one of the oven mitts at him, smacking him in the back of the head.
Harry and Tonks arrived at the Ministry of Magic little under an hour later. Harry was wearing a new set of clothes—a pair of dark black jeans and a plain red shirt, with a slim black jacket that emphasized his strong and slender figure. Tonks had insisted he wear something other than the oversized hand-me-downs from his walking-tub-of-lard cousin, and when Harry had mentioned that he had nothing else to wear, Tonks had quickly transfigured the new outfit from his old rags.
The clothes fit comfortably and were much nicer than anything else he owned, aside from perhaps the dress robes he'd worn to the Yule Ball last year. The Dursleys would never buy him anything the fit or felt as good as these, and he knew that if he ever showed up at their door dressed like that, they'd find the soonest chance they could to ruin it. Still, it felt nice to wear, if only for the moment.
He did wonder, idly, how long the transfiguration would hold. Hopefully through the whole meeting, at least.
They rode the elevator down to the Ministry atrium, Harry's attention leaving his clothes and his companion to stare in wonder all around them. It was amazing to think such a large structure was standing hidden deep under London's streets—but, then again, so was Gringotts, and that had to be even larger. Still, he couldn't help but stare, his head and eyes spinning a mile a minute as he took in all the details.
Tonks smiled as she watched Harry's awe—it was clear that he'd never been here before, and she found his reactions amusing. She stifled a giggle as she saw him gasp as a sheath of paper airplanes flew by, then guided him across the atrium to the elevators on the other side of the floor. When she got inside, she nodded to the attendant and shot him a kind grin.
"Wotcher, Johann, how's the day going?"
The man in the elevator just gave Tonks and Harry a slow nod back as he pressed the button to have the lift doors shut. "Oh, you know," Johann replied in a low, rather morose tone, "just more of the usual—another day, another galleon, y'know what I mean?"
"I hear that," Tonks nodded with a laugh, before leaning back against the wall of the elevator. "Take me down to the usual, Johann—I've got to take Harry here down to see Bonesy."
The man named Johann turned and looked back over at Harry. Harry grimaced, and waited tensed and ready for the look of shock and awe to dash across the young man's face, before he badgered Harry with praise and questions. Instead, Johann merely looked at him in a sort of disinterested fashion—he didn't even glance up at Harry's scar—before nodding and looking back at the consol.
"Third level it is then, Tonks," Johann replied, pressing the button and causing the lift to shudder before slowly descending downwards even deeper into the Ministry's depths.
Tonks smiled and rocked back on her heels beside Harry, the elevator mostly quiet aside from the low grinding noise of the lift moving down the shaft. "So, Johann," she finally asked, breaking the silence and turning to the lift's attendant, "written any good songs recently?"
Johann nodded, giving Harry and Tonks a slow shrug. "Yeah, I've been working on some compositions in my free time, whenever I'm not stuck here, of course."
Tonks nodded, before turning back to Harry and grinning. "Johann here is an old friend from Hogwarts—he was another Hufflepuff in my year, and pretty good with charms. He's also a pretty good musician."
"I'm not a 'pretty good musician', Tonks," Johann suddenly snapped back, shooting the pink-haired metamorph a firm frown—or at least as firm a frown as he could muster, and yet still have a sort of vacant, bored expression on his face. "I'm one of the wizarding world's best musicians. Someday, my music will be more popular than the Weird Sisters, the Hexen Meistros, Beethoven…just as soon as I finish my composition."
"Well, I look forward to it, then, Johann," Tonks replied with a nod. Harry, however, blinked in surprise.
"Wait, Beethoven was a wizard?"
Johann and Tonks paused, before the metamorph laughed and nodded. "Yeah, he was. Not surprised you don't know—you never grew up in a wizarding household, so you didn't listen to your mum or dad's old Beethoven records, and Binns prefers to focus on outdated conflicts with magical races in his lectures and forgets to talk more about wizarding culture through the ages."
"It's a crying shame," Johann nodded, his voice even more morose than before.
Harry stared between the two of them for a moment before shaking his head and shrugging slightly to himself. He'd known that he didn't know a lot about the wizarding world for a while now—Tonks's advice about his predicament with the improper use of magic and getting him sorted out with the DMLE certainly had hinted at that, but so far he was growing more and more intrigued by the minute.
It was a good distraction from the feeling of anxiety still welling up inside him.
That anxiety finally rose to the surface again when the lift came to a slow halt, the gears and wheels above them whining as they slowed the elevator down. Johann, still staring blankly out front, reached over to open the doors of the elevator, and then turned back to Tonks and Harry. "Third Floor—location of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Thanks Johann," Tonks replied with a nod, before turning back to Harry and taking his hand. "Come on now, you, the sooner you meet with Bonesy, the sooner we can get on with the rest of our day."
Harry nodded back at Tonks, her hand in his helping to steady him as he stepped out of the elevator. Still, as he looked down the hallway of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he couldn't help but feel more than a little intimidated. The hallway was carved from a glossy black marble, with tall pillars holding up the ceiling above, and moving about the hallway in different offices and rooms were several serious-looking wizards and witches in bright scarlet robes.
Tonks seemed to notice Harry's trepidation, and as Johann coaxed the elevator behind them back up to the atrium, she gave his hand a firm squeeze. "Hey, buck up now, Harry! I know it can seem a bit bleak and scary, but trust me—these guys are the good guys, and right now, we're only here to try and help you, alright? Just don't look weak or scared, and they won't push you around."
Tonks's comforting words and touch made Harry sigh and nod, before he quickly steeled his gaze and stood tall, his shoulders squaring up. Thinking on it, actually, it was a bit laughable that he was so anxious about this. After all, he had faced down dragons, a basilisk, and dementors, and managed to stand tall and strong, but the thought of having to be in the same room as a bunch of wizard police so soon after getting a letter that he'd broken wizarding law…well, it gave him a bit of laugh to think.
With that, Harry and Tonks marched down the hallway, past the other Aurors in the nearby halls and offices. A few, of course, did look over—Nymphadora Tonks wasn't exactly the most subtle member of the force to begin with, and it wasn't every day that a celebrity the likes of Harry Potter wandered into their precinct—but Harry ignored them, and just stuck to Tonks' side as she led him towards the largest office at the back of the hall.
The assistant outside the office looked up at Tonks as she approached, but Tonks merely shuffled around in her moleskin pouch and produced her badge. "Auror Tonks here with Harry Potter to meet with Director Bones."
The assistant's eyes widened as Tonks explained her reason for being there, and her eyes darted over to Harry, eyes searching his forehead for that tell-tale scar. Harry noticed, also, that she seemed to scoot away from him a bit—apparently she believed some of what the papers were telling them. After a moment of silence, though, the assistant nodded back at Tonks and went back to her work.
Tonks nodded in turn, and then let go of Harry's hand to open the door and then walk inside. Harry, after a moment of silent deliberation, straightened his shoulders once more and then followed in behind her, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Inside the large office, Harry and Tonks found a couple people waiting for them. Behind the large desk in the room was a stern-looking redhead wearing a monocle—likely Madam Bones, if her red robes were anything to go by—but sitting not too far from her, in one of the chairs along the side of the room, was another woman who looked almost as anxious as Harry. Her anxiety actually made Harry a bit more nervous, though he tried not to let it show.
"Auror Tonks," Madam Bones sighed, her voice coming out in a crisp, clear tone. "I see you managed to bring Mr. Potter here unaccosted. Well done."
"Hey, it was no problem," Tonks replied with a shrug.
Madam Bones nodded to Tonks, and then turned to look at Harry, who quickly tried to stand a bit straighter under that imperious gaze. "Harry Potter…I've heard a lot about you, both from my Aurors as well as from the papers. I hope the truth isn't as ridiculous as what the Minister is trying to peddle."
Harry blinked in surprise, before his mind caught hold of the chance presented before him. "If we have time after this, maybe I can tell you the truth—hopefully you'll be more willing to listen than the Minister was."
One of Madam Bones' slender eyebrows rose in interest, and she nodded back at him, her face still set in a firm and serious expression. "Perhaps so," she replied, adjusting her monocle, before turning her attention back to the moment at hand, and gesturing to the shorter, plumper woman sitting nearby. "Mr. Potter, this is Mafalda Hopkirk, Director of the Improper Use of Magic Department."
The woman sitting nearby hopped up in embarrassment and quickly moved over to Harry's side. "Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm so sorry for all of this. We don't know what's going on with your trace, but we're working to figure it out now. Really, when we received the notification from your trace, we thought it was a mistake, but someone else must've had it filed ahead of us."
Harry blinked in surprise, staring between Madam Bones and Mafalda Hopkirk, who was now standing before him nervously wringing her hands. "Um…it's fine, I'm sure we can get this figured out."
"That is what we shall be attempting, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones replied with a nod, before leaning forward in her seat and steepling her hands just under her chin, her elbows resting on her desk. "Now, then, Mr. Potter, would you kindly explain what happened yesterday at about four o'clock in the evening."
Harry nodded back at the director of the DMLE and took a beat to compose himself before speaking.
For the next few minutes, Harry explained his situation as best as he could. He brought up as many details as he could think of that would be useful to Madam Bones in helping her understand his plight. Though it embarrassed him, he even included that he had been trying to sleep when Tonks had knocked on his bedroom door, but had only been fitfully wrestling between nightmares of the Triwizard Tournament and of Voldemort's resurrection. At that realization, Tonks made a soft and long 'oh' sound, as though some sudden realization had just hit her.
The whole time Harry spoke, Madam Bones kept her hawkish eyes on him, listening closely. Beside her, Mafalda Hopkirk was busily writing his testimony down, frowning to herself over it all. At the mention of Tonks at his door, her eyes narrowed, and her gaze shifted over to Tonks for a moment, before turning back to settle on Harry again. She listened intently to the rest of his story, and when he was done, she frowned and slowly leaned back in her seat, her mind turning the information over.
"Well, then," Madam Bones slowly murmured, her eyes opening to lock onto Harry once more, "by your account and Auror Tonks' account, it seems clear that it wasn't you who cast those spells, nor are you deserving of any reprimand for them being cast, at least by my book."
Harry sighed with relief—then bit his tongue as Madam Bones held up a hand to silence him.
"However," she continued, "that won't be good enough for Minister Fudge, unfortunately. As it stands now, it is merely your word against the word of the Ministry, and right now you are in no position of favoritism with the Ministry to win that fight. And even though the spells were nothing but harmless housekeeping charms, I have no doubt that Fudge would try and twist it around as an example of how flagrant and reckless you are."
"That's bullshite!" Tonks spat out.
Madam Bones arched an elegant eyebrow upwards but nodded. "Crude, but yes, Auror Tonks, you are correct in that assessment. Now, as it stands, Mr. Potter, you'll still likely be forced to stand trial, and as such you will have an uphill battle to do so. You'll win, but not before your name is likely dragged through the mud. However, we can cut this off before it even gets to a trial if you're able to prove your innocence completely."
"Well then let's prove my innocence!" Harry replied, nodding his head firmly. "Whatever we need to do to prove it, lets do it! I'll even drink that veritaserum potion Snape threatened me with last year."
"As much as I like your resolve, Mr. Potter, the fact is that veritaserum can be easily overcome if the user knows that they have been given the potion. The same could be said for a memory—it can be easily manipulated, and while I doubt you could do so, it would certainly be an argument the Minister might use." She frowned and removed her monocle, cleaning it with a piece of cloth. "No, in this case, you'd need another witness besides yourself."
"Another witness? What about me?" Tonks asked.
Instantly, Madam Bones' piercing stare was latched onto Tonks, and the metamorph froze, wondering if she'd said something wrong. "Actually, Auror Tonks, your testimony would certainly go a long way towards helping young Mr. Potter out of his situation, but there is a problem. There is no plausible explanation given as to why you were there to begin with. And unless you give us that reason, we cannot use your testimony."
Tonks froze, silently swearing to herself. Though she hadn't actually been sworn into secrecy by a magical bond, she had a good feeling that telling her employer that she worked off-time for a shady anti-terrorism organization would probably not go over so well. That, and it could also potentially endanger some of the other members of the Order—while she had no doubt Madam Bones could keep the secret, the Order had already been theorizing about who in the Ministry might be allied with Voldemort already, and she didn't want that information getting into their hands.
Frowning, she chanced a glance over at Harry, and noticed the young man staring back up at her. Since entering the room, he had put on a good strong presence and spoken calmly with the director of the DMLE. All through his explanation of the events of the previous day, he had been sure to stay calm and to hold back his anxiety. And yet, as she stared at him, she saw that mask chip for just a second. And under the mask, she saw hope and fear all at once.
Tonks sighed, looking away.
She couldn't let him down.
"If you need the truth, Madam Bones," Tonks began slowly, as she began her response in her head, before a light flashed on, and she smiled, "I was asked to visit Harry by my cousin, Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."
Tonks had to hold back her laugh as she saw Madam Bones sit up quickly and blink in surprise, though not with any fury in her face over the pink-haired auror interacting with a known felon. Tonks had mentioned in multiple accounts already how she felt the conviction of Sirius Black was wrong and unjust, and Madam Bones had concurred. Tonks, though, believed that might have more to do with the two's history as very, very close friends than any evidence Tonks could scrounge up, which so far was none sum.
"Sirius asked you to check in on Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones inquired.
"Yeah, he sent me an owl a couple weeks ago after the Triwizard Tournament," Tonks replied calmly, working off of years of lying and sneaking to make this work. "He was worried about how Harry was coping with all that he'd experienced during that year, and he sent me see how Harry was doing. That's also why I asked for this vacation time—I wanted some time off to help Sirius with watching Harry."
In the most technical sense possible, this wasn't actually a lie. Yes, Tonks had been asked to keep an eye on Harry, and yes, Sirius had asked her to check up on him and to let him know that his godfather was concerned. However, she wasn't true about when she had made those promises, or to who, either. It was a plausible truth she could fall back on if it came to veritaserum, but true enough that it got the message across.
And Madam Bones bought it. With a nod, she sighed and leaned back into her seat behind the desk, folding her hands under her chin again. "Well, that certainly counts as a reason for being there. Of course, it could pose some problems by itself, with your involvement being because of Sirius Black, but I don't suppose I could try and keep that from possibly getting into the official records."
Mafalda Hopkirk's eyes widened, and she gasped as she looked over at Madam Bones. "Director Bones, you can't be serious! Tampering with official records?"
"If it means keeping one of my best Aurors out of trouble with the Minister and his lackeys, I'd do more than tamper if need be," Madam Bones replied, before turning back to Tonks and Harry, "Though only if they have good reason for that tampering. This situation seems to count."
Mafalda frowned, before sighing and nodding. Then, dusting off her robes, the plump witch stood up from her seat again and moved over so that she was beside Harry and Tonks once more. "Well then, I won't say anything about it I suppose—now then, if you have what you need for Mr. Potter's trial to be rescinded, Madam Bones, I believe it's time we sorted out this Trace debacle once and for all."
As she said this, the woman drew a dull grey orb of some kind and held it out before her. Drawing another item from within her robes—a long and slender wand—Mafalda reached out and tapped the orb with the tip of her wand. The orb seemed to shudder, before beginning to glow a faint blue and hover in place. Mafalda lowered her hand from the orb and let it hover in place for a few minutes, before turning to Harry and nodding.
"Now then, Mr. Potter, this orb is keyed into your Trace. It should activate once you use a spell, with the only exceptions being if you're in a high magic area, such as Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, the Ministry, or an old wizarding family's home. However, for some reason, Auror Tonks' spells came up as yours, which should not happen."
Harry nodded, though filing away the fact that he could use magic at Diagon Alley and at a wizarding household away for future use.
"So then," Mafalda continued, "with Madam Bones' permission, I shall activate a ward that will temporarily make this room emulate the environment of a muggle neighborhood. Then, I would like both of you to cast spells so that we can see how that affects the Trace."
Harry nodded again, this time a bit more unsure about it. It sounded quite a bit more confusing than what Mafalda was likely leading on, but he supposed that was likely just due to his own lack of knowledge. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he'd studied harder in Hogwarts, or that he'd taken Ancient Runes. It might've been easier not to, but he had a feeling that it could help with understanding a lot that he went through.
Unbothered by Harry's trepidatious response, Mafalda waved her wand slowly over the orb in a rigid, slicing motion, like she was cutting several slices off of the orb in her mind. Then, with one thrust forward, the orb glowed again, before filling the room with a pale blue light. It was bright for a moment, before fading down until it just looked as though everything in the room was surrounded by a faint, semi-transparent blue light.
"Alright," Mafalda nodded firmly back at the two of them, "Go ahead."
Nodding, Harry frowned and twirled his wand in his hand, before coming up with a quick and easy spell. "Wingardium Leviosa," he quickly stated, turning his wand on Tonks.
Tonksphadora gasped in surprise, and began to levitate. "Harry!" she shrieked, glaring at him as she kicked about in the air, though Harry noted that the glared didn't quite reach her eyes.
Over with Mafalda, the orb glowed blue once, signaling it had noticed the spell. Mafalda nodded and turned back to Tonks and Harry. "Very good, very good—now, Auror Tonks, you."
Harry gently set Tonks back down on the floor, shrugging lamely back at her. "It was the first thing that came to my mind, sorry Tonks," he replied quickly. Tonks, however, merely smiled in turn, which did not ease Harry's concerns.
"Oh, it's fine, Harry—especially once I do this—Expelliarmus!"
With a shout, Tonks pointed her wand out, but rather than at Harry's wand as he'd expected with that spell, she aimed her wand down at the ground, at Harry's feet. The effect was instantaneous, as the spell locked onto his shoe and pulled his feet out from under him, causing him to land with a thump onto the floor of the office.
Once more, the orb glowed blue.
Mafalda frowned, before pointing her wand back at the orb and rotating it around in slow circles, as if she were fiddling with a screw driver. Harry popped back up, frowning over at Tonks, though he couldn't help smiling in spite of himself. He supposed he deserved that.
"Odd," Mafalda murmured, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, "I can't seem to understand why it's picking up Auror Tonks' spells, but now there is no mistaking that it is. It must be malfunctioning for some reason."
"What can you do about it, Mafalda?" Madam Bones asked, frowning, though she kept her eyes on Harry and Tonks. She found their actions interesting…
"Nothing, unfortunately," Mafalda replied with a frown. "I had hoped that something small was going on, a mix up, but after looking at it closer now, it seems clearer that something has truly broken the Trace, causing it to malfunction. The only way to fix it would be to get Mr. Potter a new wand."
Harry froze and paled, remembering back to the graveyard just a month earlier. His wand had been his only reason as to why he had managed to escape being killed by Voldemort. The brother cores had kept him alive, and would likely continue to do so if he found himself in another situation like the one in the graveyard. And considering that Voldemort was back, that was still likely. So the idea of losing his wand didn't sit well with him.
Luckily for Harry, Madam Bones frowned and shook her head. "No, I don't think that's wise. Too many variables to worry about…can you delete his Trace, then?"
Mafalda looked stricken with shock. "D-delete it?"
Harry was in much the same boat, though he didn't say anything. "Yes, delete it," Madam Bones repeated, frowning over at Mafalda. "I don't want to have to go through this every time Mr. Potter or someone around him casts a spell, and considering it's broken, we have no idea what other complications it might pose. No, better to delete it, and trust that Mr. Potter won't be foolish with the freedom provided him."
As she said that, Madam Bones fixed Harry as stern glare, one that Harry quickly nodded back to, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Tonks, beside him, smiled at the development, though inside her mind she was cheering excitedly. With the lack of restraints, the two of them could have much more fun together, if they were ever able to get out of this office, that is.
Mafalda looked between the three of them before sighing and nodding. "Very well," she replied, before turning back to the orb and pressing the tip of her wand against the orb's surface. "Delete…Harry Potter."
And at that exact moment, miles away, within Hogwarts Castle, a device on the Headmaster's table suddenly stopped working.
The first of many.