CrimsonNoble
A/N: I's bored. Wanna blow shit up. I's aware the last chapter just
blazed on quickly. Yeh. Look at it from the ministry's point of view,
are you going to wait if you have evidence of that sort? Not long, I
should think. Anyway, there's a decent time gap, because nothing
important happens in it. At least, I haven't thought of anything...
Aside from one thing. But that's extremely hard to miss. So don't.
Miss it, that is. And before you yell at me, go back and read the end
of the last chapter carefully. And no, I had this planned long before
I finished the first chapter, about the time I decided on the pairing.
And, yes, I am a sick fuck. As sick, in fact, as people who do
male-slash.
Disclaimer: I make no claims toward ownership of Harry Potter. I do,
however, claim ownership of Ange. 'Cause they're mine.
WARNING: This is rated R for a reason. Should you
choose to ignore said reason, read at your own risk. Masochism,
sadism, sensuality, graphic violence, and harsh language. Possible
male/male relationships, and female/female. Ye hast been warned.
Should any of the above be objectionable to you, there is a back
button on your browser, a convienient hyperlink back to the main Harry
Potter section of the site, and a simple right-click will reveal an
option for "back", if your computer works like mine. Can't help mac
users there.
Spoilers: OotP, GoF, PoA, CoS, SS.
Chapter 6:
Pub, London. 2312, December 16.
It was cold. This was quite explicable, and obvious. For one, it was
the dead of winter. In England. For another, the windows, and more
importantly, the beer, had a thick layer of frost.
One Nymphadora Tonks stared into the depths of her half-empty glass.
Yes, muggle liquor was far harder than the wizard variety. Therefore,
as she wanted to be smashed out of her mind, she was in a muggle pub.
She was well on her way to insensibility, and it didn't hurt that she
still had almost no tolerance for alcohol.
As a result, she wasn't aware that the thoroughly soaked man seated on
the next stool was trying to hit on her. He seemed to take this as
encouragement, and continue his attempts at flirting. Poorly, being
drunk out of his mind, but it was an attempt.
No one in the bar cared to notice the door opening with a tinkle of
the bell over it. Only the tender bothered to look up, only noting the
soft silver-blue hair before hurriedly looking away. He had learned a
long time ago that unnatural hair colors meant both a barely satiable
appetite for drink, to the point where it was lucrative enough that he
did not card them, and that before being drunk, wild mood swings were
most likely going to occur. Provoking them was rather stupid. Speaking
of which, he should probably rescue the man trying to hit on the
woman next to him. He most definitely did not want another police
inquiry.
The girl seated herself next to the nearly comatose Tonks, and tapped
her fingers on the bar, waiting patiently.
As the man came to attend, her cobalt and onyx eyes flickered around
the room, observing at last that she was one of the only two women in
the bar.
In a thick Germanic accent, somehow enhanced, rather than overrun by
her soft lilting tone, she announced, "The hardest thing you got.
Two."
The man nodded blandly, barely noticing her alabaster hands as he
turned to obey her order.
"Sixteen-seventy."
The bleach colored hand delved momentarily into her pocket, and came
out, dropping a wad of euro on the counter. "Take from that until it
runs out."
His eyebrows arched curiously. "Just for today, or is this going to be
extended?"
She tilted her head to the right, gazing at him curiously. "I do not
know yet."
"Can I get a name then?"
She pondered for a long moment before murmuring in a voice that
carried through most of the bar. "Raye. You can call me Raye."
"Any last name?"
She blinked lethargically. "You do not need to know that. Just give me
the damned drinks."
He nodded, and set the first down on the counter, before turning away
to prepare the second.
The pale girl stared into the liquid for a long moment, before slowly
raising it to her lips, and in a totally non-sequitor action, downing
half of in in one mouthful.
As the acidic sensation roiled down her throat she stared with wide
eyes at the mirror above the bar.
Hell yes!
Drinking is not the answer Raye.
Fuck off bitch.
That will not solve it either.
I believe I told you to fuck off, yes? In addition, go to hell.
Blessed silence slipped into her head, and she almost sighed
involuntarily, before downing the rest of the dark drink.
"What was that?"
"A cocktail. My specialty, can't give out the recipe."
"Right. Two more."
"You've only drank the one." He pointed out helpfully.
"I know. Two more."
Evidently realizing that she was not to be swayed in her descision,
the man turned away to prepare another brace of the drinks.
Raye stared into the second one for a while, trying to figure out how
many she could consume before she passed out. A vague guess at seven
was good enough for her, and she downed two thirds of the cup in one
swallow.
"Hey litthel gurlh..."
Her eyes slowly turned toward the man. He was so going to die if his
hand moved any closer to hers.
"How 'bough I shough yesh a googh tiem...?"
His hand touched hers.
What happened next went more or less unnoticed by most of the bar, who
were already either passing out, or nodding off.
In other words, there were approximately two witnesses. The keeper,
and the suddenly quite alert Tonks.
Why she was alert, she didn't know. Maybe there was something sobering
about watching a girl twist a man's finger and breaking it before
tearing it off and throwing it out the door. Just maybe.
The man looked down at his bleeding hand, and then out into the icy
street. When he spoke, he was more offended than in pain. "Wudjer do
thah foh?"
"Get your filthy hand off of me." The girl ordered, somewhat
belatedly.
The metamorphamagus raised her eyebrows, impressed.
The man glared and started to speak.
Raye ignored whatever he had to say, and the back of her hand slammed
into his face, sending him skidding across the floor of the bar.
"You only get one warning."
Now, if that was a warning, Tonks really did not want to see what the
girl considered 'damaging'.
"What's your name?" Tonks, apparently deciding that a conversation
would be in order, asked.
The girl's cobalt and onyx eyes lifted to the older looking woman's
face, before travelling to her hair, currently flat and pink, her
ears, pierced in more places than a cursory glance could count, before
finally coming to rest on her lips, currently a dark lavender.
She considered the woman for a while, her unwavering gaze starting to
disturb Tonks slightly, before slowly announcing, "Raye."
"Interesting name... I'm Nymphadora Tonks. Can I speak to you in...
well, more private accomadations than this?"
Raye's eyes fell to the drinks that had just landed in front of her.
"Looks like it is going to be a long term investment, keep." She
turned toward Tonks, the light reflecting in a breathtaking prism
against her inverted eye colors. "Have one, and we will go." Raye
muttered before pushing one of the drinks toward the other woman.
Tonks looked distrustfully at the liquid. "What is it?"
Raye shrugged, pulling the nearly empty cup away from her lips.
"I do not know. The hardest thing they have, evidently."
Tonks looked at the two already empty containers then back at Raye.
Doing a bit of fairly diffcult math, because she didn't think it was
humanly possible to actually consume more than one of the concoction,
she slowly asked, "And that's your third?"
Raye placed the empty drink on the bartop. "Yes. Hurry up."
Tonks looked at the drink, and then with a resigned shrug, downed the
glass in one extended drink.
Bad idea. The force of the alcohol hit her in the same manner that a
cruise missle hits a civilan house. And with much the same effect.
"Shit!" She yelped as she felt her eyes widen abruptly.
"Yes. It does that. Moving right along..."
Tonks stood up, to the dismay of the drunkard who was still attempting
to hit on her, and started to follow Raye.
"Hey noaw... we wuz 'avin fun..."
Tonks turned to look at him.
"Yeh caaen't goh..."
Tonks opened her mouth to say something, to find Raye brushing past
her toward the drunk man.
He smiled, evidently thinking his charm had won this delectable sweet
over already.
As such, he was unprepared for her fist to crash into his jaw, sending
him to the floor.
The bartender wisely kept out of the momentary outbreak.
A fifty-euro note landed on his counter, and he glanced up at the
woman.
"For damages, and cleaning these morons out." She clarified, before
turning and stalking out of the bar, ahead of a slightly swaying
Tonks.
"Where."
It really didn't sound like a question, even though it was.
"Here, close your eyes. I'll get us to my flat."
The woman's eyes hardened. "No. I do not apparate with people who are
drunk. They tend to splinch their passengers."
Tonks blinked. Damn, that drink was hitting her fast. "Yer a witch
then?" She asked hopefully.
"Yes. Where is your damn flat."
Tonks didn't know if it was the drink, the woman, or a combination,
but at the moment she was both feeling really horny, and really
attracted to the other woman.
"If yer nagh gunna leh me apparate yeh, we has teh walk..."
Tonks promptly turned, and entered the complex next to the bar.
Raye stared. Well, it was convinently located when the other was
smashed hard, she admitted.
Pub, London. 2344, December 16.
-------
Nymphadora Tonks' Flat, ????. 0001, December 17.
Tonks staggered through the door, collapsing to the couch in an
undignified heap. The effects of that drink were really beginning to
hit her. Hard.
She decided that passing out would be a good idea. Like some of her
good ideas, she followed through on it.
Raye sighed. The woman probably wouldn't wake up for a while. Loki,
but this sucked. Stuck in an apartment with one of the most decidedly
sexy women she had ever met, and unable to do anything because she had
inadvertently given her enough alcohol--diluted even!--to knock her
out. Suckage central.
She looked at the other woman, and calculated. It wouldn't be quite
morally right to do it... So she would.
Raye lifted the unconcious woman, and carried her through the only
open door. Which also happened to be the only door aside from the one
that they had used to enter. Logical therefore, that it was the door
to her bedroom.
She deposited the unconcious woman into the bed, though perhaps her
hands lingered slightly longer than necessary, before calmly walking
around the bed and climbing in herself.
For a long time, she stayed awake, making sure that Tonks was not
retching, and was still breathing.
Nymphadora Tonks' Flat, ????. 0012, December 17.
-------
Nymphadora Tonks' Flat, ????. 0913, December 17.
Tonks woke to find herself lying in her bed, something she had no
recollection of getting into, and staring at another indentation in
the second pillow.
Her mind leapt to the obvious conclusion. That being that she had
brought someone home the previous night. An idea dashed, with a faint
thought of disappointment, when she realized she was still dressed.
She gently probed the pillow, finding a sky-blue hair on it, and
noting that it was still warm.
The hell?
Moreover, it smelled like her kitchen was being used. Something that
had not happened in, well, ever actually.
So she climbed out of the bed, comfortable though she was, and started
toward the only other room in the house, apart from the toilet.
She blinked at the sight of the girl using her kitchen. "Who you?"
At which point, she realized that she had a hangover.
The girl pointed at a pot of hot coffee. "Drink."
A faint memory drifted back at the sound of her voice. But, the coffee
was more important at the moment.
When she finally finished downing the first cup, and refilling the
mug for the second, she turned toward the girl. "You're... Raye, was
it?"
"Yes. I am surprised you remember. You should not drink liqour that
hard unless you are used to it."
"Spare me the lecture. I'm sorry, but I don't seem to recall your last
name. What was it?" Small talk to keep Raye from realizing how much
fun Tonks was having, watching her deceptively delicate hands
preparing food.
"I did not give it. I have no reason as of yet to give it. Why did you
want to talk to me last night?"
Tonks blinked. She didn't remember that...
"No idea. Jog my memory, would you?"
Raye placed the pan down, having just taken it off of the burner, and
walked over to Tonks.
Tonks watched bemusedly, right up until the girl's knuckles rapped
rather roughly on her head, whereupon she yelped.
"What was that for?" She whined.
The retort was, while deadpanned, laced both with a thick German
accent, and a definite amused flicker of her eyes. "You said to jog
your memory."
Tonks said nothing, busy pondering how strangely sexy the voice was.
"I take it you have never seen the Princess Bride?"
"No."
"English wizards and their bleeding superiority complex..."
Lavender eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not a pure witch, I'll have
you know."
"What of it? Riddle was a half-breed."
"Are you comparing me to him?"
"That is what it sounded like to me."
"How dare you!?"
"Because I want to. You are not better than a pureblood. You are not
better than a no-blood. By the same token, you are no worse. Magic is
not in blood. Magic chooses who it will."
Tonks observed that her hair was standing on end, waving madly as if
caught in a hurricane.
As she calmed it, she pleaded, "Did you have to use him?"
"He is the darkest man you are familiar with. Probably outclasses the
women you are familiar with too."
"But..."
And she was suddenly aware how close the girl was standing to her,
enough to feel the other's breath on her face.
"Shut. Up." God damn her voice!
Tonks opened her mouth again, and had just enough time to see the
inverted eyes roll before she felt the girl's lips against her own.
She stood frozen for a long moment, before her hands slid roughly into
the girl's hair, gripping the blue locks tightly and pressing harder
against her mouth.
Tonks felt the counter pressing against the small of her back, and
moaned involuntarily.
Raye promptly took advantage of the moment to slip her tongue into
the other girl's mouth, plundering her territory viciously.
Nymphadora Tonks' Flat, ????. 0932, December 17.
Jess16--School? Erm... no. No more school for Potter. Lived too long.
mistik-elf13--This chapter just gave a major hint on that. Kind hard to
understand if you didn't know already. But it is there.
legacyZero--Oh, he could do a lot. He just chose not to.
And so it begins. Really do go back and read the last chapter if you're confused. Raye is NOT an OC.