The heatwave had been unbearable and as soon as his aunt had allowed it, he had left Number 4 Privet Drive in the hope of finding a shaded spot where a pleasant breeze would have been more refreshing than the stale air in the house. He'd not been sleeping well, in part due to the sweltering heat and also because nightmares had plagued him. Each time he closed his eyes, the scenes from the graveyard would play out in his memory, which meant that his last decent night of sleep was a month back.
Most of the town already thought that he was some hardened criminal, so having a nap in some public space was not something Harry was too concerned about. Truth be told, the park bench was hardly comfortable but it had been pleasant enough to doze off. That was until a strange woman approached and gave him a few curious travelling glances.
"Wotcher, Harry."
He jumped slighly, surprised by the sudden familiar greeting. His eyes, while exhausted, studied her quickly before he determined that she wasn't an immediate threat. "Hi? Do I know you?"
"Name 's Tonks," she offered, her voice deeper than Harry would have expected given her pink and blonde hair. Since the name did not ring a bell, he just stared at her without comprehension, noting that the black leather pants fitted her quite nicely, even if they had to be unbearably hot in this weather. And while his eyes ran down her shapely legs, he almost missed that he was looking at dragon leather, which made this stranger a witch. Not entirely unexpected, since most people who knew him had magic. He reached for his wand, a motion that seemed to amuse her. "I'm here on behalf of a certain Black dog, if you catch my drift."
At that, Harry froze as he felt a jolt of ice-cold fear in his chest.
"Is he alright? What happened to him?"
"Nothing. I'm here 'cause he is worried about you," the witch said pointedly. "Can't exactly walk about, now can he? Enter me."
"Why didn't he send any letters?"
"'S difficult. Owls can be intercepted and your house might be watched by the other side. Same goes for your friends. Mrs Weasley is censoring their letters like she's working for the Ministry of Information," Tonks explained. "The Dog mentioned that there was a way he and your father talked back in the day. However, the devices were destroyed when your grandparents' manor went up in flames. He said that he'll make new ones but the materials aren't easy to come by."
Harry only blinked as he tried to process the revelations he had heard in the previous couple of moments. After all, why would his friends' mail need to be censored? What could Ron or Hermione possibly write that had to be kept secret? All he had needed was someone to talk to after the graveyard. But he was not about to tell a stranger that. Therefore, he latched onto the other tidbit that the woman mentioned. "My grandparents' manor?"
"From what I remember, your parents had their own home, that's the one that got blown up in Godric's Hollow. You know, the one from the postcards," Tonks explained, but noticed that Harry had idea what she was talking about. "Anyway, the home your dad grew up in was burned down after your grandfolks died from the Dragonpox in Winter of '80. I was only six, then, so I'm a bit hazy on the details."
"I didn't know my family had even had a manor," Harry admitted and briefly wondered what else he didn't know about his family. "How is S– Snuffles?" he voiced instead.
"Not great, not terrible. We had to move to the place where he grew up, and it's not the most happy of homes, I tell ya. Not sure how it hasn't collapsed from all that bitterness, yet."
"Where is it?" Harry wanted to know, not feeling comfortable with this conversation at all. There was clearly a need for secrecy, that he understood, and if anyone had listened in until this point, they'd have realised they were talking in code.
"There is a spell that conceals our hideout, so I can't say much. Literally can't tell you," Tonks said and noticed his guarded expression. "There is no proof I could show you that could not be faked, but he asked me to tell you that Buckbeak is fine. He is not enjoying the stay in the attic, but Hagrid made sure that the room is fit for a hippogriff. At least for the time being."
"That's good, I guess," Harry replied, trying to keep his face blank and stop the relieved sigh from escaping.
"The place is a dump," she freely admitted. "The furniture has been taken over by all sorts of creatures, cursed artefacts are hidden under inches of dust and grime, and half of the windows have been boarded up. There's even a disgruntled house elf who isn't helping."
"I thought they were meant to," Harry said and thought back to the punishments Dobby had to inflict on himself.
"Kreacher is no longer quite there. He spent almost a decade with no one but the portrait of Sirius' mother for company, who belonged in an asylum even when she was alive. The portrait is an uncanny likeness in all senses, she insults everyone she lays her eyes on without ever tiring of it. Delightful old hag, that one."
Harry raised only an eyebrow in response to the vivid description, then an idea occurred to him. "Do you think that another house elf would help?"
"What, you happened to have one down your trousers?"
"No, but I know one. Dobby is a free elf. Used to be owned by the Malfoy family until I tricked Draco's old man. He now is working for Dumbledore at Hogwarts. I could ask him whether he'd be interested in giving you a hand."
"Malfoy's house elf? Do you think he would be better than Kreacher?"
"Dobby has his quirks but I do trust him. However, his judgement can be a bit – questionable."
"Oh?"
"Well, he knew about Lucius' plot with Voldemort's diary, and decided that I ought not to return to Hogwarts for my second year. So he blocked my mail, tried to get me expelled for underage magic, blocked the barrier –"
"Wait, wait, what?" Tonks interrupted and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder so that he turned towards her. "What did my dear uncle do with the Dark Lord's diary? And how do you know about it?"
"Your uncle? You mean you're related to the Malfoys?" Harry asked as his hand itched closer to his wand again. His companion caught his movement, but merely raised an eyebrow.
"You are as well, although far more distantly. My mother was cast out for marrying a 'Mudblood', but she had two sisters who believed in everything the Black family stood for. One, Narcissa, married a Death Eater, the other, Bellatrix, joined outright, and pretty much became the Dark Lord's right hand," Tonks said with a shrug. "'S really a toss-up who was the bigger disappointment, Mum refusing the prestigious match they picked for her or Sirius turning his back on them despite being the heir. Now that we're clear on how circular our family tree is, what was that about You-Know-Who's diary?"
"Well –"
Harry had no way of verifying anything the woman had said, but he felt like he could trust her. Or maybe that was just his desperate desire to hear more, to hear anything, about Sirius. And despite the polyjuiced imposter who had taught him defence for a year, it felt right to trust her, at least with a story that was publicly available in the citation for his Special Award in the Hogwarts Book of Records.
What he did not expect was that Tonks offered to buy them dinner, and any thought of disguised Death Eaters was swept away once she started talking about Indian restaurants in Haringey. They found a small restaurant that made a decent curry near Station Road. It was not well lit, the sign over the door looked all sorts of shady, and the owner had an impressively big moustache that was showing more than a few grey hairs. Being the first time Harry was eating Indian, he had no idea what to order, so he just picked something he distantly recalled Parvati mentioning once. Or rather, had been complaining about it because, apparently, chicken tikka masala was not authentic Indian food since it had been invented by a Muggle in Britain. However, as suspect as the venue was, the food turned out to be surprisingly good.
Over the course of the meal, Harry found that Tonks was easy to talk to. She was clearly a few years older than him, based on the way talked, but not so old she would seem like a boring adult. Definitely not the kind Percy turned out to be, who obsessed over cauldon-bottom thickness and things like ministerial paperwork and procedures.
Despite her friendly demeanour, there was the occasional glint of something else in her eyes. Her questions were more thoughtful than anyone else's he had talked to. Not that he had talked to many adults beside the Hogwarts teachers, come to think of it. However, it did not take long for the conversation to meander from the Chamber of Secrets to the previous year, from there to the Yule Ball, and completely derail afterwards. He wasn't sure how they had got to that point, yet he had to admit, he enjoyed talking to her in spite of the verbal catastrophe.
"Come on, it can't have been that bad."
"Literally everyone in Hufflepuff wore those badges," Harry pointed out and slurped some fizzy drink he had never seen before. "I don't care how hot those girls are, they spent a month insulting me and no one apologised. Not one Puff!"
He stopped himself before he said Cedric's name. Only pain and regret waited that way. "I'm not saying that I will never talk to them again, but an apology would be nice, you know."
Tonks noticed his shift in tone and tried to lighten the mood. Her uncle had asked her to look after Harry, to make sure he was alright, not to twist the knife any deeper. Even if she wanted to know what the boy had really been through. Dumbledore had been surprisingly elusive about that. "I told Sprout that I was the moral fibre of the House."
"You did?"
"Once, when I was trying to get out of detention – she didn't buy it," she explained and flicked a rice corn from her jacket. "Turns out, I'm right after all. I'm sorry - "
"It's not your fault, and I'm blaming neither you nor Puddlemere's new chaser."
"I can see why you would want to keep that hope," Tonks quipped and gestured in front of her chest.
"She graduated two years ago. She did not wear a badge that insulted me. And it's not like I had any chance to date a Quidditch star."
"No, but that hasn't stopped the nation from fantasising about it. Before the Prophet started smearing you, they were quite happy to speculate about which team you would join after Hogwarts, and Witch Weekley joined them by wondering whether any of your to-be teammates would be single," Tonks pointed out and used her napkin before tossing it on her plate. "But there has to be some girl you find pretty. You are into girls, right?"
"I find plenty of girls pretty, but - "
"But?," Tonks said with an almost predatory grin.
"Well, there's Hermione, but she's dating Viktor Krum and seemed happy with him."
"One girl? In all of Hogwarts?"
"What do you want me to say? Katie plays for the other team, Angelina and Alicia are with the Weasley twins and I don't want to get on their bad side. Parvati - Well, I sank that ship last year, and the same probably goes for her twin sister. Lavender is a no because Hermione really put her foot in her mouth, and I'm her best friend, which makes me the enemy. The Slytherins, at least in my year, are all part of Malfoy's circle of friends, and I already told you about the Hufflepuffs," Harry said before the absurdity of the conversation could catch up with him.
"That still leaves at least one House."
"Ravenclaw - Cho - I fancied her. But she was with Cedric Diggory and - "
"Ouch, say no more. Still, there's got to be more."
"I don't know them terribly well, to be honest. When people treat you like some kind of curiosity, you don't fancy their company much. And in the few years I've been at Hogwarts, I've been jumping from the fire into the frying pan, on the regular. So usually it was Hermione, Ron and me trying to figure out whatever was going on."
"That's got to suck. I'm sorry, mate," Tonks offered with kindness, yet her thoughts seemed a million miles away before she snapped back to the present. "Let's try another approach. Just going by looks, whom would you take on a date?"
"Sue, she's got - "
"Big tits?"
"No," he shook his head. "She's got pretty hair. A very nice shade of red."
"Like this?" Tonks asked and held up a strand of her own hair that looked like she was a Weasley.
"No, much more red. Almost scarlet, like the Hogwarts Express."
"That's dyed then," she concluded as the hair between her fingertips turned metallic red.
"I don't care, it suits her. But for a date, I would much rather take Sophie Roper or Alice Tolipan."
"So why haven't you asked them?"
"I don't get why you are so invested in my dating life. Don't you have your own?" Harry whined with a glare that lost its effect due to his smile. This was the first decent conversation that he had had the entire summer, and as weird as it was, he could not deny that he had missed bantering with his friends.
"Teenage drama is hilarious once you're no longer a teenager. Certainly beats Coronation Street," Tonks explained and munched on some naan from the plate in between them. "And being a junior Auror comes with horrible working hours. Add the club your godfather and I are in, and I don't even know when was the last time I had the opportunity to go out."
"I'm glad you're having fun at my expense."
"Well, Sirius did ask me to look after you while he's stuck at Headquarters."
"Are you sure that's what he had in mind?"
"He said I should ask you about girls because he forgot about it last year – then he said something about eating rats. But trust me, if he was here, he'd be telling you about some secret trick of his. And they all seem to have ridiculous names."
"Such as?"
"Do you want to hear about the Belfast Nippletwister or the Parisian Knot?" Tonks asked in an entirely inappropriate tone of pure innocence. Harry could only blink at her. Then his mind caught up, and he burst out into laughter.
"The WHAT now?"
"He makes a lot of stuff up to make people laugh. These just sound more elaborate than the usual locker room talk. 'S quite admirable really, he's miserable in that house, but he tries his best to lift the mood. Impossible task in that place, if I'm honest," she said seriously, the admiration for her cousin clear to hear. Tonks then lowered her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper. "I'm going to let you in on a secret. Girls talk. If you mess up with one, word will spread and you will struggle to get dates. Make sure that she's having a good time, and you might find yourself more popular than you expected. That's more important than any trick you might hear in the dorms. Each witch likes different things, that goes for the bedroom and outside of it. There's no universal move that'll always work. And relationships get better the better you know your lover."
"So Sirius is full of shit?"
"Of course he's. I thought you met the man," Tonks laughed and Harry chuckled along. It was nice to know that Sirius was no longer stuck in that damp cave eating rats but had people to whom he could talk to. Even if his house apparently was awful. "Mind you, there are some things that will go over well with most women. Flowers and chocolates are rarely the wrong gift, although a single flower might be better than a whole bouquet. Having to carry a whole bouquet around gets annoying really fast. And 's hilarious to hear you talk about all these girls."
"You know them?"
"I'm probably distantly related to half of your list, and I had watch shifts in Diagon Alley during the summer holidays. So what about Tolpian?"
"Well, she asked me to the Yule Ball last year. She is about a foot taller than me, so I thought that'd be ridiculous if we danced together. I had to shoot her down. And ran for my life. But then I saw her dancing with Michael Corner and saw that, since she's also a foot taller than him - well, his face was about the same height as her - "
"Tits?"
"Well– yes. That's when I realised that I might have been too hasty."
"A very compelling argument," Tonks laughed, and Harry couldn't help himself from adding to the joke.
"Two, actually."
There was a brief moment of silence before Tonks caught on and almost choked on her bread.
"You know, if you really want to improve your odds with the ladies, you can always start working out," she suggested while holding up a can of fizzy drink she used to clear the stuck bread.
"There isn't exactly a gym at Hogwarts."
"Of course not, do you really think that the old families would encourage some Muggle contraption? The right sort of wizard can't be bothered to pick up their own wand if they don't have to, do you really think that they'd be pumping iron?"
The thought of Draco sweating as he struggled to lift the kinds of weights he had seen in Dudley's sports magazines while a huge man kept shouting at him with an Austrian accent made Harry snort. And then he remembered how the men in those mags had looked like.
"So you want me to become a bodybuilder?"
"Nah, I got the idea from a year mate of mine, Simon. He started working out after our OWLs. The boys in his dorm laughed at him, but by the end of the year he was the one laughing when he was suddenly in high demand. Filled out quite nicely –" Tonks trailed off dreamily. "I wonder what he's up to now –"
"Look, I appreciate the advice, but I'm not sure if that would help me."
"'S what the Mutt would do."
"Really? Isn't he from an old family?"
"He likes all things Muggle. I have some faint memories of him and dad taking me to some Rallycross events when I was like 5. And he'd certainly approve of things that help you get some," Tonks laughed and put a twenty pound note on the table. "Come on, time to get you back to those relatives of yours. And I'll see about getting you some dumbbells. A pair of 25s should be all you need for now, especially if I find some that're adjustable. Maybe some whey, too, help you fill out a bit –"
"You know a lot about all this. Do you work out?"
"Sometimes. I'm a metamophmagus," Tonks explained and noticed his blank look. "A shapeshifter."
"Is that how you changed your hair colour?"
"Yup."
"I thought that was a charm."
"Nope, just an ability I was born with. Dead useful as an Auror really. Never needed a disguise or spell to blend in, and those can be dispelled if I were undercover and someone got suspicious. As for your question, I can get muscles without working out, and I don't think that I would have the discipline to keep working out until I would be shredded. At least not with my current schedule. But it can be nice to hit the gym and just forget about everything outside. Just you, your Walkman and nothing but weights until you get that delicious sore feeling in every muscle. I don't do it often enough to get the benefits, but there's something nice about the blissful blank thoughts you get when everything hurts."
"I know that feeling from Quidditch practice."
"You don't know half of it. In the gym, you can keep going until you can barely stumble into the showers afterwards. It hurts, it will hurt even more the next morning even with some potions, but 's a good pain. You feel like you really accomplished something. If you tried to push 'self that far on a broom, you'd fall off long before that. And believe me, I speak from experience."
"You played Quidditch?"
"I was one of Hufflepuff's chasers for four years. Not the best at scoring, but I was a decent playmaker and not afraid of making the game more physical. I remember one match against –"
The whole day had been unbearably warm and the heat remained long after the sun slipped beneath the horizon. So when the first cool breeze swept through the street, it was a pleasant relief. Tonks paused her explanation for a moment and took a deep breath to enjoy the fresh air. Followed by a lewd moan.
"About bloody time."
However, moments later, it became apparent that the cold was not natural at all. A sheet of rain began falling seemingly in an instant, the moon gone in the blink of an eye. The temperature kept dropping, when moments ago not a cloud had been in sight.
A sudden sense of dread confirmed the origin. Harry reached for his wand, and by the look on Tonks face, she had come to the same conclusion.
"Oh cock."
However, rather than looking for a way out, steel appeared in Tonks eyes as a short piece of vine wood jumped into her hand, almost like a switch-blade. They were in a back road that led to a loading ramp of the local Sainsbury's, but it was still far too open for comfort.
"Stay close." The mumbled instructions were unnecessary, but Harry had to admit that her firm hold on his shoulder was an assuring influence, something to counter Voldemort's mocking cackle in the back of his mind. "I got this."
As the puddles began to freeze from the beaten path to the park and the downpour turned into a hailstorm, Harry reached for his own wand. Tonks slowly turned until she was between the ice and him, effectively holding him in a tight sideways hug. A bank of fog appeared even though they were miles from the Thames and the reservoir was in the opposite direction. There was only one possible explanation for the weather anomaly.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery bird burst from her wand just as shapes took form from the mist. The oppressive silence was broken by the hum of the spell before it faded when the spectral animal charged the pair of dementors as they passed a row of low bushes. Voldemort's hollow voice disappeared even before the spell hit the dementors, who faltered as soon as they felt the charm. Harry remained vigilant, looking for another target, but it seemed as if her spell saw off their assailants. As the light disappeared in the distance, so did the biting cold.
The Patronus returned and circled Tonks once. Harry was surprised when it turned out to be a parrot rather than the bird of prey he had been expecting. It perched itself on her shoulder, pecked her ear before fading into mist and was gone in the blink of an eye.
They were left alone in a deserted and still deathly silent access road, with an oppressive silence as not a single animal could be heard. Slowly, he could hear water dripping down buildings and rooftops, and the ice that came with the dementors melted as quickly as it had frozen. Downpipes and other metal structures were creaking as they expanded from the sudden changes of temperature, and a warm breeze brought back the summer heat. For one moment, Harry smelled cinnamon and vanilla, but before he could identify any other scents, Tonks had let go of him and took point towards the park that was a shortcut to Number Four.
"Right, time to get you back to your relatives' place. 'T looks like someone in the Dementor Office needs my boot up his arse.
AN:
Beta'ed by doenerkint/Babidibupi.
This will be a 5th-year story that uses time-skips to stick to the parts of OotP that are different enough from canon to be interesting. Do not expect this to be a very serious story.