A CALL

Typical English weather filled the entire night with a heavy, wet fog that seemed to cover everything, leaving the various people foolish enough to be out on such an oppressive evening nearly soaked through despite the heavy slickers and raised umbrellas. Lights at the street corners burning like weakened suns on a overcast day, allowing for nothing more than a general direction. It was in such a state that the figure, more than a boy but not yet a man stumbled into the edge of the brick building. His gaze continued to shoot over his shoulder, the fear of approaching footsteps that might be following preventing him from taking any time to rest, but rather to press onward.

He was scared. All pretense to the contrary was lost, as he pulled the torn coat closer to his shivering body… no idea of where to go. No. That wasn't true. He knew where he needed to go; he just couldn't find it in himself to demean himself in such a way as to ask for help.

Reaching into his coat pocket, his dirt stained fingers found purchase on the thin piece of wood that had been his only tool in his escape. Sighing aloud, he quickly turned down another cobbled street and wracked his brain for something… anything that he could do to escape his pursuers.

Light seemed to radiate through the fog from his left. His hard, blue gaze turning sharply, the welcome warmth of an open pub of some type beckoned to him, much like sirens led wayward sailors to their demise. Unable to resist, Draco Malfoy quickly pushed the door open and passed out of the oppressive wetness into the smoke-hazed common room on the establishment.

A quick survey of the occupants in the crowded room helped to alleviate any immediate concern that those looking for him were lying in wait. Without a word to any that he bumped into, the former Prince of Slytherin moved to an empty booth along the far wall, his back to the wall, and waited for a barmaid to take his order.

He waited for a time, much longer than he was used to. In his heyday, a respected pureblood with the name of Malfoy, he would have been served and cared for upon immediately entering, but that was in the wizarding world. This was the muggle world.

"Do you know what you want?" Draco turned his face up to the source of the question. A very healthy woman with brightly colored hair stood next to him, her outfit denoting that she worked here.

Sighing, Draco nodded. "Anything warm. Coffee. Tea. Whatever. Just warm… and lots of it."

Without a word, the woman turned, but not before Draco could see the slight roll of her eyes. Without a chance, she'd already dismissed him as being penniless and therefore not worth the attention to garner a satisfactory tip.

Funny how the tables had turned. Once, Draco would have been oblivious to any plight she might have had, her lineage being less than he had been raised to believe.

Since he probably would be here for a bit, if for nothing else than to give his clothes and body a chance to dry from the horrid London weather, he slowly ran his fingers through his blonde hair, ignoring the unkempt appearance such a gesture would present on him and leaned back in the seat, the exhaustion of the past week slowly catching up with him.

Licking at his lips, he began pulling the various objects he had hidden all around his person out and setting them carefully on the table in front of him… all but the wand. That, he kept carefully in the sleeve of his coat once he'd fished it out from the pocket.

After a moment, a pot of coffee, reeking of being almost too strong and bitter to drink, was placed on the table and a chipped cup was set beside it. Draco's eyes sought out bowls for sugar and cream, but all that he could find were small paper packets claiming to be such. Rolling his eyes and trying not to let his disgust show on his face, his eyes darted about the room to continue his progress of the other people in the pub before he took inventory of all of the worldly possessions he now possessed.

There was a wallet, both holding muggle paper money and falsified identification papers; a small pouch of galleons that was slowly dwindling; a spattering of receipts, most from food establishments that served what could only passingly be considered edible; and then the object of his hope and his dread: a tell pony.

No.

That wasn't it…

A cell phony…. Phone.

Yes.

A cell phone.

His hand barely shaking as he took a first sip of the coffee, his face wincing at the bitterness even with all of the sugar and powdered creamer added, he leaned back and considered the use of such a muggle device. He didn't want to use it… tried to convince himself not to use it, that he had no need. But the Dark Lord was not a forgiving sort and Draco had only barely escaped or eluded the Death Eaters sent after him.

In truth, he didn't know much of how to use the cell phone… only that Snape had given it to him after they had escaped Hogwarts and told him to push two buttons when he decided to make the call.

Not if, but when.

His former Potions and later Defense Against the Dark Arts professor… his godfather… had taken the burden of the task laid upon Draco's shoulders and then provided for a way to escape… or, at least, a way to finally join the right side of the coming war.

Picking up the cell phone, Draco watched as the muggle power harnessed inside suddenly lit up, the bright neon light showing him that there was still life inside. Shaking his head and taking a moment to say a prayer to the higher gods that he wasn't making a mistake, Draco pressed the first button that he'd had shown to him. A slight beep sounded, then nothing. Waiting just a moment longer, he pressed the second button and then lifted the offending piece of plastic to his ear.

It was ringing.

O X O X O X O X O X O

The water was scalding, the skin along his shoulders and back already a heavy pink from the hard pressure of the shower beating upon him, the desire for the soap and water to wash away his sins and free him from the anguish burning inside. It never failed, the overwhelming self-hatred that seemed to slip into him whenever he was alone, the feeling that he was failing in the tasks that had been set upon him from the moment Voldemort had decided to ruin his life.

This was his morning ritual. His alone time. Tonks was still asleep, her warm body curled up in the tangled sheets of the bed that they shared, her smooth skin a tempting lure to prevent his atonement.

She never questioned why he felt the need to leave so early in the morning hours. Harry had initially pondered this after the third time he'd escaped her arms and legs, but he knew that he would never ask, never betray whatever comfort they had found within each other.

Hermione danced through his mind, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Visions of her smiling, a book in her lap as he tried to draw her attention away from whatever assignment had so occupied her time away from him, even for a brief moment… it was enough that he could almost find it within himself to call her, to see her… but then the harsh memory of seeing her in bed with Ron would rush up, consuming him, and the anger and rage would soon find purchase inside his heart again.

It had been a set up. Someone had put some type of potion or drug or something in her food, forcing her to act completely outside of herself. It wasn't her fault. Tears were lost in the spray of the shower as he lifted his face. Someone had done what Harry had believed impossible… they had taken his Hermione away from him… or, if he was being honest even with himself, had taken him away from Hermione… ruined something that he had come to depend upon.

Sighing, Harry finished rinsing off all traces of soap from his body as he prepared to end the shower… peace yet again denied him. His hands moved to turn the faucets, when a rush of cool air startled his eyes open, the lithe form of Tonks suddenly joining him.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Her voice was hesitant. "You've been in here for a while."

Harry forced a grin as he raised water-wrinkled fingers up to her face. "Sorry, Dora. Just thinking."

She smiled at him, her eyes suddenly a deep violet as her hair seemed to shrink to a very short boyish cut. Tonks moved closer to him, her body suddenly against his, the water adding to the touch. "You know I only let you call me Dora."

He leaned his head down and kissed her, memories of Hermione suddenly forced away as his arms wrapped around her. His teeth found purchase on her lower lip, her mouth opening to him, inviting his tongue. The kiss deepened. Tonks pushed him against the warm tile of the shower, her movements suddenly more frantic as they lost themselves to the desire that had come upon the two of them.

His hand moved lower, his lips smiling into the kiss as he felt her body shiver under his touch. She gasped into the kiss, Harry pulling in her release of air from her longs as she started to grind her hips towards him.

It was lust. Neither had spoken of it since it had begun… a wild, dangerous game that fed from their mutual tears and anger and pain when they'd first seen one another trapped within Harry's home.

There had been a need… a painful drawing towards one another that each needed to sate, to offer to each other, even while they took from the other. Words had been spoken, empty promises into the neck of each other as Harry had lost his virginity and Tonks had taken it. Both had been in love with someone else… might still be in love with that unseen and unspoken other, but for now, the denial of what they shared was enough to keep them going.

Harry had told her of the horocruxes, of Dumbledore's task set upon him… and of Ron and Hermione's betrayal. It had not been his conscious intent to recruit her, but she had immediately forced him to accept her aide… and in truth, her auror training and metamorphmagus abilities could be infinitely useful.

"Ha-Harry… I'm so… so… so… close…"

Tonks' words permeated his brain as he suddenly found himself back in the now, the sensations of their bodies' movements bringing him back to the shower, her body now pressed to the wall, her legs wrapped around his hips. They hadn't tried the shower before… he definitely liked it.

In a rush, he felt his own body begin to spasm as her body shuddered hard, a cry of pleasure escaping both of their lips, the tautness of their muscles both relaxing as she brought her teeth away from his neck and lazily met her lips to his, her eyes now dull.

"Oh… wow…" Harry panted, his body only starting to notice that the water falling from the showerhead was cooling.

"Right in one." Tonks giggled. "I think we need towels."

"Towels." Haryr playfully scowled. "I'm thinking about back to bed."

"So soon?" She laughed as she carefully put both of her legs back down to the shower's floor. "You usually need a few more minutes to… uhm… recuperate."

Harry laughed as he moved to open the shower's door and grabbed two towels from where they were hanging. With a grin, he held one out to Tonks while he began drying himself off. "Can't remember the last time I so enjoyed taking a shower…"

She only shook her head with a smile as she shortened her hair again, able to quickly dry it that was and moved to stand in front of the mirror.

"Harry?" At his look, she continued. "Do you think having Luna spy for us was a good idea?"

It had been a day since Luna had visited. Harry shrugged. "I'm sure that the Order suspects, especially since we haven't made any further contact with the outside world…"

"And when are we?" She blushed prettily. "Not that I'm not enjoying just us, but you know as well as I do that…"

Harry lifted a finger and placed it on her lips, silencing her. "I think we'll try Floo Calling McGonagall tonight."

Where Tonks had been playful and strong before, at Harry's words, her whole attitude became shy and nervous. "And what do we tell them about…"

"About us?" Harry added when it became apparent that Tonks was not going to. "Not sure, truth be told. Do you have a preference?"

"Well…" She finished toweling herself dry and threw the damp material into the hamper. "It would probably be best if…"

Whatever she had been possibly about to say was lost as a knock suddenly sounded on the closed bathroom door, the sound causing both of them to jerk in surprise. "Harry Potter, sir? Harry Potter's Tonks, ma'am?"

Harry rolled his eyes at Tonks as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "Yes, Dobby?"

The door started to open and Tonks quickly jumped behind Harry, a slight "eep" escaping from her as the diminutive elf entered into the small room, his eyes respectfully aimed at the floor.

"Dobby is sorry for bothering Harry Potter and his Tonks, but there was a muggle item chirping downstairs."

Harry quirked his eyebrow as Dobby handed him a small cell phone. Turning his head to look at Tonks, he found the woman shaking her head in obvious puzzlement, her shoulders shrugging.

Harry smiled at Dobby. "Thanks."

The house elf shot him a quick smile as he quickly and quietly slipped back out the door, firmly closing it behind him. Tonks wiggled her eyebrows as she stole the towel from around Harry and wrapped it around herself before darting out the door. Harry was left standing in the buff in the middle of the slowly cooling bathroom holding a cell phone that he never knew about.

The phone wasn't ringing anymore, but it showed one missed call. Sighing, he decided to take the brunt of Tonks' prank and walked proudly to their room, formerly Sirius' room. Tonks was already getting dressed as she smirked at him walking into the room in the nude.

Sighing, Harry lifted the phone. "Should we call back?"

Tonks paused as she pulled a pair of ripped black jeans over her hips and considered for a moment. "Where did the phone come from?"

Harry shook his head. "No idea. But that it was here without anyone knowing about it sort of bothers me."

Tonks worried her lower lip as she buttoned the jeans. "I guess there's nothing to lose for trying."

He nodded as he pushed the button to dial back the last number that had called… the only call that the phone had received. Lifting the phone to his ear, he nervously waited as it rang twice before the other phone picked up.

"He-hello?"

Harry felt his eyes widen, Tonks shooting him a questioning glance. Harry licked his suddenly dry lips as he considered the drawl on the other end.

"Malfoy?"