Author's Notes: The title is inspired by the Mike Oldfield song (covered so beautifully by Blind Guardian) "To France". Yeah. Guess what this one is about. Mild fluff, some laughs. Next chapter has a bit more excitement, a development… can't say more yet.

Also, I've posted more comments and answers at the bottom. Thanks for the reviews! Keep 'em coming!

On with the show!

Chapter Three
To London

In most other circumstance, Harry would have leveled his wand on the person in the doorway and stunned them into next month, but he knew only one person who said "Wotcher". So he merely glanced to Tonks, whose jaw was ajar, and said, "Good timing, I'm going to need help disposing of the bodies."

Tonks stared dumbfounded at Harry (whose face was burning with hot blood fueled by the intense hatred in his eyes) for a second longer, then looked at Petunia (who had taken to imitating a statue) to Vernon (whose mouth kept opening and closing) and finally back to Harry.

"PUT YOUR EFFIN' WAND DOWN HARRY!"

She didn't wait, and merely snatched it out of his hand before he could say a word.

Petunia took a step back and started to breathe again.

"Do you want to get expelled!" Tonks demanded.

"I—"

"Are you even using your head?"

"Tonks—"

"You can't do magic outside of school!"

"Tonks—"

"If you want to obliterate your relatives, let somebody else do it for you!"

"But I only—wait, what?"

"What?" squeaked Aunt Petunia.

Suddenly, Tonks whipped her wand out from her holster and had it trained on Harry's relatives.

"Don't move you filthy Muggles," she hissed coldly. She needn't have. Petunia had resumed her statue imitation, and Vernon's mouth now merely hung open.

"Harry," Tonks said, now calmly, though her pale face was flushed, "grab all your things. I have the feeling that you're not welcome here anymore."

He didn't hesitate. He rushed up the stairs and in three minutes flat, he had his trunk packed and had intercepted Hedwig (returning from Lupin's) with instructions to fly to 12 Grimmauld Place, or Hogwarts. Sirius was bounding around him, jumping up and down, whining.

"C'mon boy," he muttered and began dragging his trunk down the stairs.

Nobody had moved while Harry had gone. As Harry reached the landing, Tonks moved aside to give him room. Very quickly, she cast a Shrinking Charm on his trunk, which allowed him to pick it up in his hand – still quite heavy, but more manageable – before returning her aim to the Dursleys.

"Now… Harry, we're going to back out of the door and leave this thrice-cursed house. And these two aren't going to try and stop us. Okay?"

Harry nodded.

"Okay?" Tonks said to the Dursleys, both of whom nodded just as vigorously.

"Good." She turned her head to Harry and said, "Harry, run to our friend's place. Now."

Without a second glance, Harry tore out of 4 Privet Drive and dashed down the street, in the direction of Arabella Figg's, Sirius close at his heels.

They weren't alone very long. Tonks caught up to them by the third block, looking more amused than angry now.

"I swear Harry, I've never met anyone who could live with such horrid Muggles."

They vaulted a low hedge simultaneously and landed in Mrs. Figg's front yard on both feet. Sirius twisted in mid-air and, proving to be clumsier than Tonks, crashed head first into a garden gnome.

Tonks doubled over, panting, as did Harry. The adreneline was almost too much for him, but Tonks, who seemed to have recovered quicker than he, gave him a small push toward Mrs. Figg's door.

"We'll have to lie low here for now," Tonks told him firmly, and it struck Harry then how mature Tonks really could be. Both of them. There were two Tonks's standing in front of him.

She noticed his expression and ordered him to sit, which he did. Sirius, leaving the remains of his attacker gnome behind, trotted up to Harry and licked him across the face. Tonks grinned, then knocked at the door.

The two young magickers and their crup companion listened for Mrs. Figg, but no sound came from inside the house. Not even the mewwing of one of her innumerable cats – kneazles, actually, as Harry had learned. Tonks knocked again and waited, but not a sound came.

"Oh shite," Tonks muttered.

"Indeed," Harry said, scratching Sirius behind the ears.

"Harry," and now Tonks sounded quite scared. Harry's head had cleared up now, and he looked up to find just one Tonks looking down at him.

"We're stuck Harry. Arabella must be at Grimmauld Place. Which means we have no place to go but there."

"What? Are you serious?"

She just nodded.

"But that's in London! That's hours away! How are we going to get there? I can't do magic, let alone go back to my aunt and uncle's!"

Tonks bit her lip, looking decidedly tense. She began to pace, but stopped and stood, her chin in her hand. Something seemed to occur to her then, because a sly grin sudden spread over her face.

"Well, a journey to London could be fun, you know."

Harry gaped.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," she said, her face belaying this. "I'd Apparate ahead of you and try to work something out with the Order, but it's too dangerous to leave you here alone. If we had Hedwig with us still, I'd send her with a note. No, the only thing that we can do now is get there ourselves. On foot or by what ever means we can – magic not withstanding of course."

Resigned to these only options, Harry nodded and began to rack his brain for an idea.

This was the Muggle world, where magic had no place except to swindle people out of their money (true, however depressing the thought might be; even more so that there was a department within the ministry dedicated to these crimes). Harry had grown up here, knew a few things from the tele, or from what he'd seen himself.

"We could always hitchhike," he suggested, but dashed the thought immediately. Who'd pick them up and drive them all the way to London? A taxi cab, maybe, but that would cost quite a bit, and Harry, who held a substantial fortune in his Gringotts wizard's vault, had only a few quid with him.

They could walk if they had to.

It would take a long time to walk to London.

"How do you feel about committing illegal acts Harry?" Tonks asked suddenly.

"Illegal how?" he asked with warily. Tonks had roguish a gleam in her eye.

"Muggle Illegal," she said. "Nothing heinous, I promise."

"I don't know Tonks, what're you getting at?"

"Wellll… it would seem that somebody's left their bicycles unattended, just at that house—" She pointed to a house a few doors down, across the way.

Harry raised an eyebrow at his guardian. "Tonks, those bikes are chained up. To a tree. A big tree. That's hardly what I'd call unattended."

"A minor inconvenience," Tonks said with a nonchalance that Harry didn't trust.

"Minor? That chain is not a minor inconvenience. In case you didn't notice, it's huge."

"Yeah? So?"

"It's thicker than my arm, that chain is! That's a bloody anchor-standard chain!" Harry said.

"Wotcher Harry." Tonks grinned, pulled out her wand and started toward the house.

"Do you really need to do that, Tonks?" Harry asked for the third time as the pair coasted down Rawley St. on their newly acquired steeds. "If you lose your grip, it'll likely take my head off."

"Relaaaaax Harry," Tonks drawled as she continued to swing the heavy steel chain over her head. Funny the word "Relax" would be coming from her; barely ten minutes before, she'd been panicked out of her gob.

"You look like a biker," he remarked, grinning. Tonks whooped and started to pick up speed.

The Order's got to be mad to trust me to her, Harry thought to himself.

Sirius was sitting in the wire-mesh basket on the front of his bike, looking as thrilled as a crup could be while on the run. His tongue was lolled to the side, and he kept trying to bite the air. Harry smirked down at his little friend, whose pronged tail was tap-tap-ing against the basket.

"At least you don't have to do any of the work."

They pedaled on for another hour before stopping in at a Muggle general store, where they bought water and snacks. The storekeeper told Tonks that London was less than five hours by bike, which gave them some hope. Still, the sun was falling quickly (it was now past five), meaning that if they were to get to London in that time, it would be dark. Harry didn't fancy meeting new faces in the dark streets of London.

"We'll have to tough it out," Tonks said grimly through sips of water. "We can handle ourselves. Watch each other's back, right?"

"Speak for yourself, she-with-a-wand," Harry muttered. Tonks blushed.

"I'm sorry Harry, but we can't risk getting you expelled again."

"I know, I just hate this feeling of… vulnerability."

"What? Don't trust me?" Tonks asked with a sniff.

"What? No! I mean yeah… you know what I—"

He scowled at Tonks as her laughter became apparent.

"Red like a tomato," she giggled.

"Come on," he grumbled. Sirius yipped in apparent agreement.

They set off again, London-bound. For the most part, Harry kept a good pace, and was able to ride beside Tonks and keep up a conversation. He told her about the summer as it had been before the disastrous confrontation with his uncle that morning, keeping to himself the fact that he had spent hours out of his first week in a huddled mass, letting himself cry for Sirius.

He'd shed angry, vengeful tears; hateful tears; selfish tears that had burned his eyes. He'd cursed more names than deserving. Voldemort and Bellatrix more often than not. Dumbledore on the odd occasion. Himself for being the cause of it all. And in his moments of utter hysteria, he'd found himself cursing Sirius as well.

It was only after the Order had sent along little Sirius the crup that Harry had started controlling himself again. The way Sirius looked at Harry made him more appreciative of how it must have been for Sirius himself when he and Harry had first met… attempted murder on Harry's part aside. It was just one of the many things Harry noticed about Sirius that strayed his thoughts to his new friend's namesake.

Harry bit his lip as his stomach clenched. Sirius again. The voice he had heard the night before…

Soon he'd have some answers… hopefully. Dumbledore was a man of suspense, Harry had learned over the years. For good reason the headmaster seemed to think, contrary to Harry's belief. It seemed to him that Dumbledore might be the only one who could explain this new incident to him, if at all. It depressed Harry.

Tonks noticed Harry's lull, and studied the younger boy while his mind wandered. He did look thinner than he had been at King's Cross, fresh from Hogwarts (even then, he'd been thinner than usual). And definitely drained, she could see that in his face, in his eyes, which seemed to carry only a glimmer of the life she'd seen in them before. His unruly hair was lank, his complexion was pallid and now that he was off in his own world, his expression was morose. It depressed Tonks.

They didn't speak for an hour, at least. At times, Tonks would pedal ahead and set the course toward London. What she lacked with grace, Tonks made up for in her impeccable concealment powers, and an unusual knack for directions.

"Me dad was a scout," she told him with a grin. "Had a compass surgically implanted into my head at birth."

A small smile touched Harry's lips, to Tonks' delight.

They stopped in a small town two hours from London. By now they were behind schedule: it was ten o'clock, and the sun had set hours ago. They were both exhausted from the ride so far.

"I don't suppose you carry any Muggle money with you?" Harry asked.

It turned out that she did. Very little, but pooled together, Harry and Tonks had enough for a room at an inn just inside the town. In a new guise (tall, blond, and buxom), Tonks told the innkeeper that she, Violet Durlsey and her nephew, young master Arnold (Harry nearly groaned aloud), needed a double room for cheap, which he supplied for a decent figure. They were left with enough money to buy munitions the next morning, which Harry thought was a blessing.

"Violet" signed into the innkeeper's guest book and smiled at the dour old man, who was staring intently at Sirius.

Or rather, Sirius' pronged crup tail, unseen in the Muggle world.

"Whassat on yer pup's tail?"

Harry said nothing, his mind having gone blank.

"Birth defect," Tonks interjected nervously. "It… uh… was like that at birth."

"Mmhmm?"

Tonks glanced at Harry, face registering her alarm. The innkeeper just kept staring at Sirius, who stared back.

"I think it… adds character," Harry added lamely.

Tonks flashed a thumbs up as the man sighed and turned back to her.

"'E's 'ouse trained, is 'e?"

Tonks nodded vigorously.

The innkeeper took another look at Sirius, whose head was cocked before sighing again and handing over the key to their room.

"Check-out's at noon, right? Brekkie's in the dinin' room from seven 'til ten, pool's open from elev'n 'til ten. If yeh need anythin', dial pound nine on the tele. Goh-eh-all?"

Tonks nodded and thanked the innkeeper, who returned to reading his newspaper. Harry beckoned for Sirius to follow him and Tonks down the hall to their room.

Room Twelve. Harry shared an amused glance with Tonks, whose hair was darkening to black.

Room Twelve was a tiny suite, hardly the size of Harry's room back at Number Four. There were two tiny beds against one wall, separated by a bedside table. Against the other wall (only a scant few feet from the edge of one of the beds) was a tiny corner desk, upon which sat an old alarm clock, an electric kettle, a tea pot, two mugs and two packages stale looking biscuits. The clock, which appeared to be accurate, give or take a few minutes, ticked away softly. To its left was a door that led to the incredibly cramped bathroom.

Tiny as it might be, it was a room, and it was miles away from the Dursleys. Harry could barely ask for more.

Not that he would've been able to. Having made the mistake of laying down upon one of the beds, he was asleep within seconds.

He awoke sometime later, feeling as though he'd come off the bad end of a nasty duel with Draco Malfoy. His muscles sang with a pain that annoyed rather than agonized. He forced himself to sit up and rub sleep from his eyes.

It was still dark outside, and Harry wondered if he'd slept straight through the day and into the next night. If he hadn't, it certainly felt as though he had: he wasn't as drained as he had been hours before, merely groggy and sore. Despite his aching muscles, he felt as though the final leg of their ride would be a stroll in the daisies.

Tonks, on the other hand, looked as though walking alone might kill her.

"You look terrible Tonks," he mused, spying her seated at the desk. Then he noticed that she was still dressed. He saw that the other bed hadn't been slept in.

"Did you stay awake all night?"

Tonks nodded wearily. "Had to," she croaked (Harry felt a shiver at the sound, and worried even harder). "Can't let our guard down."

Harry got up and examined the Auror. Dark rings circled her eyes, which were bloodshot. And yet, she grinned at him, a very Tonks thing to do, and said, "I'm fine, mate. Just need some coffee in these veins and I'll be ready to set off."

"You need more than coffee," he objected. "You need sleep Tonks. Go, take an hour or two. I'll be fine."

"Harry—"

"Nymphadora," he warned.

Tonks grumbled at the use of her real name, but took Harry's outstretched hand and let him guide her to the unused bed. She flopped down uselessly, face first into the thin pillow.

"Wake me before nine," came her muffled voice. Then nothing.

Harry glanced to the clock on the desk, noting how early it really was. No wonder it was still dark, it was barely past six.

Content with letting Tonks get some rest, Harry sat down at the desk and tore open one of the packets of biscuits. He tossed most of them to Sirius, who devoured them in no time. Harry nibbled on another, ignoring the fact that it was stale. It was better than nothing.

He sat back and watched Tonks slumber. He felt a little peeved that she had wasted a night of rest to guard him from nothing. Guilty as well, but he didn't tell himself this.

Tonks uttered something in her sleep and rolled onto her back. With a start, Harry noticed that her appearance had changed again, and was still. Her hair, which had been black and waist-length earlier, was now losing its color and its length. It was paling, becoming grey. Dark grey that lightened until it was pure white. It also seemed to recede into her head, finally stopping at two or three inches.

Must be her lack of concentration, he thought to himself. He saw that her button nose was now growing longer, becoming more aristocratic. It was a curious spectacle, one that reminded Harry of Barty Crouch Jr., and how he had reverted back to his true form whilst unconscious, as the Polyjuice Potion he'd been taking throughout the day had worn off. Only Tonks was much more pleasant to be in the company of.

Deciding to leave the sleeper be, Harry forced himself up from his seat and hobbled to the bathroom, where he took a long, luxurious shower. He washed the grime from his face, and shampooed his hair vigorously, then simply let the water spray against his body, let it drip down his face, and let a hundred thoughts pass aimlessly through his mind..

He stayed in the shower for three quarters of an hour before, thinking about where he was, and how he had come to be here, in the shower of Room Twelve of some tiny inn, miles from his usual summer home. Somehow he felt more comfortable here than he had at any time during his stay with the Dursleys. They weren't here, treating him as though he were ill and infectious. Here he had a fellow magic user to talk to, even if she was six years his elder.

Somehow, thinking of Tonks as an elder in any sense of the word didn't seem to fit right.

Feeling better, Harry got out of the shower and toweled off; stretched out a bit more, then returned to the main room.

Tonks had changed appearance again. Now, she had ash-blond hair, down to her shoulders. Her face had changed as well, and she now bore a hooked nose and several years worth of wrinkles.

He was intrigued, not having studied the abilities of a Metamorphmagus before. He'd have to ask her about it when she woke up, he decided as he pulled the desk chair to the window, where he sat, gazing into the pre-dusk calm of the town.

His mind had wandered, because before he was aware, it was half past nine. Harry woke Tonks, who tried to push him away before breaking back into reality.

"Wotch… eh, forget it. I'm too tired to be cheery," she groaned.

Smiling, Harry said, "Were I able to see your true face, I think it would look well rested."

Tonks' eyes widened in surprise. Then she closed her eyes, concentrating hard on something. Her hair began to recede again, and became a violent, acid green. The Snape-ish hook nose was sucked back into its cute button look, and her eyes, which had been a greenish-blue in her sleep now deepened to emerald, matching Harry's.

"You saw me shift, huh?" she asked. Embarrassment showed on her face.

"Twice," he said. "First your hair turned white, and your nose changed."

Smiling sheepishly, Tonks said, "That's what I look like without using my powers. Because I have to keep a degree of concentration to stay in a form, I revert back to my normal form when I sleep."

"Your hair was white though. That's your normal hair color?"

"I was born that way, most Metamorphmagi are. White hair, white eyes."

He told her about the other shift she'd performed.

"That was a Dream Morph," she explained. "A lot of the time, I'll dream that I'm in a certain form, and my body will react like I'm using my powers consciously."

"So what were you dreaming of that would make you blond, hook-nosed and wrinkled?"

Tonks raised a green eyebrow. "Beats the hell outta me."

Noting the time, Tonks got up and stretched out. "Let's grab some grub, mate," and slapped him on the back. "Continental brekkie it may be, but it's food, and that's all this beast is worried about."

Her stomach rumbled in agreement.

sandra greer - Actually, the only help I've had so far has been from JK's books, and some information from the Harry Potter Lexicon and Mugglenet.

SiriusLivesOn - Uncle Vernon had a breakdown, is all. A part of his brain kicked in and overpowered his anger.

As for Harry and Tonks… well, just read and find out.

wolfawaken - Why thank you. Haven't been complimented like that in a long time.

Tessa Kitsune - I can't accept that I'm writing this nearly or as good as Jo, but thank you anyway!

spike blade - Same here. I'm putting myself in Harry's shoes when I write and so naturally, I pair him with Ginny mostly, or Tonks.

MissMaeoftheSky - One of the best eh? I guess you haven't heard of ruskbyte. He's a true genius on Harry Potter. Check out his works.

As for Harry and Tonks, you'll just have to sit through it and bite your lip. It's my first time writing a Honks, and I like the idea, in spite of, sometimes because of the age difference. I think they could work.

And thank you for adding me to your favorites. It means a lot to me, having "fans".

SiriusLeeBlack09 - Yeah, the Lexicon has more information than the books even. They've got facts from Jo herself that aren't in the novels.

I figured that because he knew an adult from the Order now, someone who wasn't too much older than he, maybe they'd be kind enough to drop by. Besides, they'd be keeping a closer eye on him than Ms. Figg, right?

The voice is not Ron, I guarantee it.