Tonks would be here any minute.
That was the thought that kept circulating in Harry's mind as he poked at his food, feeling much too anxious and excited to really eat anything. He knew he should eat at least a bit, but food was the last thing he wanted at the moment.
He heard the front door open then, and it felt as if his stomach and heart had simultaneously decided to leap into opposite directions. It was a queasy, nervous feeling that he had come to associate with the name of Nymphadora Tonks over the past two weeks.
He froze in his seat, uncertain as to whether he should go to meet her in the front hall or wait for her to come into the kitchen, his palms sweaty and his breath shallow. Before he could decide what to do, a black-cloaked figure came striding into the room.
Snape.
Harry scowled, highly irritated and quite disappointed with the man's sudden arrival. He had been expecting Tonks, of course, and Snape was perhaps the last person that Harry wanted to see at this moment. Well….except maybe for Malfoy and Voldemort, but Snape was a very close third. The wizard sat down at the table and looked at Harry with a sour expression on his face.
Ron chose to snicker through a mouthful of mashed potatoes just then for some reason, causing both Snape and Harry to miraculously join forces for a second to glare at him. He ducked his head and stuffed another spoonful into his mouth, obviously reluctant to get into it with both of them at the same time, though Harry could tell that he was still grinning.
Smarmy bastard.
He heard Ginny laugh quietly at him too, her cheeks a faint red underneath her spattering of caramel freckles. Bloody hell, even Hermione had a ghost of a smile on her face. Did everyone find his discomfort to be funny?
What had transpired between him and Tonks that night that now felt so long ago was supposed to have been a secret, so naturally everyone in the house knew about it. Ron had pestered it out of him the very first night with a whole barrage of bothersome questions as to why Harry had been alone with her while everyone else just had to stay upstairs for so long, and why did Harry look so exhausted and flushed, and why did their room smell so damn weird?
Harry had been so tired that after a few minutes of Ron not allowing him any peace and quiet to drift off to sleep he had finally told him, which in hindsight had been a big mistake if only for the fact that Ron had kept him up half the night making him explain everything that had happened.
Well….not everything. The more personal details he had stubbornly kept to himself, but not without a lack of trying or a substantial amount of grumbling on his friend's part, who grudgingly allowed Harry to fall asleep when he wouldn't say anymore.
But in the morning he had woken Harry up not even two hours after sunrise and had demanded him to tell him everything. Harry had given him the finger and called him a few choice names before rolling over and falling back asleep, and in retaliation Ron had huffed his way up to Fred and George's room and told them all that he knew on the subject of Harry and Tonk's little tryst.
Harry had stumbled downstairs and sat down heavily in his customary seat at the kitchen table later that morning, ready to enjoy a hearty late breakfast of kippers, bacon, toast, and pumpkin juice, when he noticed something small and red perched neatly in the middle of his plate.
A paper cherry. How odd.
It was by all appearances a popping party favor, like the ones that all the students received at Christmas and Halloween at Hogwarts that you grabbed at both ends and pulled so that it burst open with an exhilarating snap and which contained small prizes, usually candy or maybe even a few Knuts if you were particularly lucky.
He had eagerly reached out to grab it and see what was inside when his common sense suddenly sensed danger in the form of two identical red heads, of which were currently bent over some magazine at the other end of the table, obviously making a point to ignore him.
When it came to Fred and George, blatant disinterest could only mean trouble. The last time Harry had thought the twins weren't paying any attention to him, he had ended up with an extra body part in a very unfortunate place for about two hours. His cheeks still burned whenever he thought about how Mrs. Weasley had bumped into that new addition and had nearly had the shock of her life. The twins had laughed themselves silly until the full force of their Mum's wrath forced them to surrender the counter-charm.
He had scowled at the two of them and batted the cherry off of his plate to the middle of the table, irritated that they didn't even bother to acknowledge the fact that he had thwarted their little attempt to subject him to their twisted sense of humor.
Despite his best efforts to focus on his breakfast and ignore the twins' ignoring him, his eyes had kept darting back between them and the little red favor in the middle of the table. Maybe it really was harmless, he had thought to himself. Maybe the twins hadn't even put it there at all. Maybe, his mind had excitedly supplied, it was a little gift from Tonks.
The idea hadn't been altogether absurd at the time, as it had seemed like something Tonks would have done, so when the twins had finally got up from the table and had made a leisurely exit from the kitchen, Harry had allowed his twitching, impatient fingers to scrabble over the tabletop and seize the cherry at last.
After a quick, apprehensive look around to see if the coast was Weasley-clear, he had foolishly given into the temptation and had, after a moment's deliberation, grabbed the small stem of brown thread and had given it a sharp tug. The result was not at all what he had expected. Instead of a small pop! and perhaps a bit of confetti and a few pieces of candy fluttering from the husk of the cheery red piece of papier-mâché , a small explosion had issued forth instead.
With a startled cry he had jerked back and toppled over backward in his chair from the deafening BANG! that had projected from inside the cherry, sending a shower of sizzling red and gold sparks rocketing into the air. Frightfully garish music had suddenly started blaring seemingly out of nowhere, and as Harry had watched with a mouth slack from horrified awe, the sparks had suddenly flew together to form the glittering exclamation of: CONGRATULATIONS TO HARRY POTTER ON POPPING HIS CHERRY! HOW SWEET IT IS! Cheers, Fred and George.
He hadn't realized that everyone in the house had come into the kitchen at a run until there was a sudden roar of laughter right next to him. He had yelped and scrambled to his feet, blood rushing into his cheeks and making his face feel extremely hot.
Fred, George, and Ron were all in tears, howling with mirth. Ginny was laughing with them, though not nearly as hard, and Hermione looked completely scandalized as only she could. Well…except for Mrs. Weasley. She had looked quite embarrassed for a moment before finally screwing her face up and letting out an earsplitting bellow of disapproval of the twins' little trick.
Later that day Harry had felt sorry enough for the twins to forgive them, as their Mum had gave them an astoundingly loud and thorough verbal thrashing upstairs for most of the morning. They had both looked quite pale when they finally came meekly down the stairs after a puffing Mrs. Weasley, who was not quite able to look at Harry without getting flustered.
However, as soon as she had left the room to go fix lunch they had became their regular audacious selves again, and with huge grins had thumped him on the back and congratulated him on his fine achievement. The whole affair had made Harry feel a little odd and uncomfortable, but proud nonetheless.
While reflecting on all this Harry suddenly became aware again of his current situation. Tonks had still not arrived yet, and Harry began to feel a little worried. He glanced apprehensively at Snape, who was quietly studying a scroll that he had must have had hidden in one of the many pockets of his travel cloak. The older wizard seemed totally unconcerned, so Harry supposed that all was well and that he shouldn't get so worked up over her being a minute or two late.
But then again, this was Snape. The slimy bastard probably didn't give rat's ass about any but his own. That thought wasn't very fair, and Harry knew it, but it still didn't stop him from thinking it often of the older man. He-
But then he heard the front door open again, and this time Harry keenly heard Mrs. Weasley happily saying, "Oh dear, it's so good to see you safe and well again!"
Harry's insides at that moment decided to do a very vigorous rendition of the Jitterbug. He half stood up in his seat, but sat back down hard when familiar figure clad in dark blue robes stepped lightly into the room.
"Hullo everyone!" Tonks said cheerily, a warm grin spread across her delicate features as she looked around at everyone. Then her gaze landed on Harry, whose mouth went suddenly very dry. Her expression changed, making her face softer and somehow mysterious as she looked at him.
"Harry." She said quietly with a nod, giving him the biggest, most dazzling smile of all.