Mildly AU. Following the final battle, Harry and Tonks comfort each other. One shot only.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (et al). That privilege goes to the talented and lovely J. K. Rowling, to whom I am eternally indebted, both for a fascinating read and for many bedtime stories for my daughter.
Disclaimer 2: This story is so NOT HBP compliant! That...book...never happened. Nope! Thbbbbbttttt! I'm in the state of Denial. It's a lovely state. Lotsa pretty scenery. I can draw you a map if you want. Anyone got a crayon?
Disclaimer 3: Though I’m posting after, this story was written well before that sloppy bowel movement called Deadly Horrible came out. Therefore, this does not follow that cough story line cough either.
A/N: I wish to thank my sister, FireLemming, for her beta work. She doesn’t even follow the Harry Potter fandom, preferring TLK, and yet, will take time to offer much-needed (and often unappreciated) critical advice.
Nymphadora Tonks woke in quite a bit of discomfort. She lay in bed, knowing that she’d been thoroughly shagged…several times, most likely by the male form, which shared her bed.
“Oh goddess! What have I done?” She moaned. She immediately grabbed her wand and passed it over her lower abdomen. The glow remained silver, indicating that someone had cast a contraception charm, and judging by the strength of the glow, she knew it had not been her. Tonks sighed in relief.
The slender man lying beside her was turned away, and she could see his back was covered with hundreds of white scars. She wondered what could have caused them, but having more pressing concerns, as it were, rolled off the bed, and made for the loo.
There, she attended to business. Cleaned up, brushed and washed, she returned to the bedroom to find her guest still asleep. Smiling, wryly, she wandered it the kitchenette and decided to wake him with breakfast. Remus had taught her to cook when they’d started dating.
At the thought of Remus, pain erupted in her chest. Tonks sat heavily at the kitchen table, and wept…remembering:
Tonks lay in the hospital wing, her bed alongside the hastily cordoned off morgue that held far too many. On the other side, were the survivors. The only thing separating them from the dead was a thin sheet of linen.
Tonks struggled to sit up in her bed, immediately bringing the matron bustling. “Nymphadora! Yes, yes, I now you hate that name. You really shouldn’t be up, dear. You’ve been severely injured and you need your rest.”
“He’s…” Pomfrey couldn’t seem to answer the question. Tonks stood on shaky legs and again demanded her lover’s location. From behind, her Scrimgeour’s voice sounded. He stood in the doorway, wearing a newly minted Order of Merlin, First-class. He was surrounded by reporters. A pyjama clad Harry Potter, returning from a visit to the loo, limped in, just in time to hear Scrimgeour sneer:
“His body was burnt along with all the other ‘dark creatures’ this morning.” He smirked at her reaction. “If you wish to keep your position, Auror, you’ll let this drop.” It was fortunate that Tonks wasn’t armed, as she would have surely earned a vacation in Azkaban, had it not been destroyed.
Harry was under no such compunction. His fist lashed out, connecting solidly with Scrimgeour’s jowl, and throwing the Minister of Magic to the flags. “You miserable, worthless bastard!” He snarled. The reporters perked up at the thought of a real story instead of the whitewashed dreck the Minister was spewing.
“Remus Lupin was actively working for the light when you were a rookie Auror! He deserves better than that from the likes of you! Remus laid his life on the line for worthless fools like you, Scumgouger. Where were you during the battle? I’m betting
you were either hiding in your over-appointed office, or taking bribes from Voldemort’s Death Eaters. You’re no better than Fudge!”
“I’ll have you in Azkaban!” Scrimgeour roared, brandishing his wand. Harry waved his hand in a sweeping gesture and snarled: “Shaddap!” Scrimgeour instantly fell silent. He also froze in place, unable to move, and his wand left his grip and ended up in Harry’s. Harry glanced at the thing in utter contempt and tossed it out the nearest window. The gathered reporters all shifted uncomfortably away from Harry at this display of power.
“Azkaban was destroyed, remember?” Harry wrapped comforting arms around Tonks’ shoulders and turned to face the reporters. “I’d print this immediately so Ol’ Scumfucker there can’t try to have your stories censored…“for the good of the wizarding community” or somesuch bullshit. I’d also wonder where’s the recommendation for Remus Lupin’s Order of Merlyn, first class, as it was he and his few werewolves who actually thought it better to die fighting for the wizarding world, despite the bigotry and intolerance they’d faced their entire infected lives, than to allow it to fall to Voldemort. He stood with five others against the lot of them. That was better than six to one odds! They stood off the entire horde of Voldemort’s werewolves. That sacrifice, cost each and every one of them their lives but they managed to take every single one of Voldy’s wolves with them.
Why does the Minister deserve to wear that medal? He did nothing to prevent this; he actively encouraged it! He took bribes from Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy and allowed them to do exactly as they pleased, while he sent innocent people like Stan Shunpike to Azkaban, just to make himself look good. He removed the Aurors from your protection in order to guard the old pureblood families, most of whom supported Voldemort in the first place. I noticed that the Weasleys had no Aurors posted at their home, nor did the Lovegood’s, or Longbottom’s. I wonder why?”
“Mister Potter, what will you do?”
“What I won’t do is stand on a stage with that slimy piece of worm-ridden…filth, and mouth platitudes. Remus, Lupin was a friend. He died for you. Nymphadora Tonks is a friend. She stood against Voldemort, despite the Minister’s orders…for you. All the Weasleys are friends. They have championed the light since Britain was Britain. In the past sixty years the Weasleys and the Prewetts have lost more than a dozen of their kin because they refused to support Voldemort, and before him, Grindelwald. Neville and his grandmother are my friends. They stood by my side. Hermione Granger is my very best friend. She’s a muggleborne, and the most brilliant witch to enter Hogwarts in centuries. She has stood by my side since I first learned of the wizarding world. None of them have been nominated for the order of Merlin. I – wonder – why?
Amelia Bones was murdered by Voldy’s troops just before Fudge left office. How very interesting that Ol’ Scapegoater’s only realcompetition for the office of Minister, ‘just happened to die’ facing Death Eaters, barely a week before Fudge was sacked, isn’t it? Susan hasn’t been the same since. Is she still alive?
So, to answer to your question; I am not going to Disneyland. I am not going to tour the world on some useless bloody vacation. Right now, what I will do, is go and check on my friends, and hopefully I won’t have to bury any more of them!”
Harry and Tonks limped around the ward, seeking their friends. Harry could walk only with the help of a cane. Ron and Hermione lay unconscious in the intensive care section, their respective parents sitting by as they waited for news. Needless to say, the Grangers were not too pleased to see Harry. Mackenzie threatened to slice off his balls if he ever went near his precious daughter again. Judith held her husband back, but Harry could see that she agreed, at least in part with her mate’s decision. Harry turned away, his eyes filled with tears of pain and regret. He never heard the tirade Minerva McGonagall began as soon as he left the area.
Augusta Longbottom had been killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. Neville’s revenge on Bellatrix had been both well deserved, and final, and, had the Minister or any of the Aurors seen it, a one-way ticket to the now defunct island fortress.
Ginny was on the other side of the curtain. Harry wept for her, and leaned on his friend. Molly told him in no uncertain terms, that because he’d rejected Ginny, he was responsible for her decision to get involved with the man who’d killed her, Draco Malfoy. Harry had blown Malfoy apart immediately after he’d seen him kill someone with red hair. Unfortunately he couldn’t investigate, as Voldemort had picked that moment to appear.
Seamus also lay on the other side of the curtain. He’d done nothing to warrant his death but be a half-blood, in the wrong place at the right time. He was in good company. Almost five-dozen other students, mostly half bloods and mugglebornes, also lay there.
By the time Harry and Tonks had returned to their starting point, the reporters had all gone. Scrimgeour was still restrained and silent. Aurors around him tried their best to remove the spells Harry had cast, but none could do so. Maybe because Harry had cast the spells in a mere whisper…and in Parseltongue.
"Are you going to let him go?" One asked Harry.
"Not a fucking chance! As it happens, I don't know how I did that..." He lied. "But even if I could, I wouldn't. He's as responsible for this as most of the purists. Who knows, maybe a bit of humiliation will do him some good."
Harry’s spell wore off the next day, and the incandescent Minister Scrimgeour stomped out of the castle and apparated to the ministry, intending to file whatever charges he could find against one Harry James Potter. Unfortunately, when he arrived, the damage was already done. The story had hit the papers the previous night, and the surviving members of the Wizengamot had ousted him that very morning. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named Minister pro-tem, until elections could be held…in three years.
The wake for Remus Lupin was held in, of all places, a muggle pub called O’Malley’s, which had been a cop bar since the ‘watch and ward’ days of early England. Tonks smiled tearfully and flashed her star. Harry just held her hand. The heavy-duty looking man at the door took Tonks aside and whispered something to her, pointing discretely at Harry. She returned the whisper, and the bouncer’s eyes lit with recognition and respect. He smiled sadly, nodded and allowed them entrance.
Moody started the pubcrawl off on the right foot, by lifting that silver flask he carried and shouting: “To Remus Lupin! The best goddamned ‘not Auror’, to ever walk the streets!” Needless to say, the evening proceeded in a like manner, with all the off duty Aurors and several of the on-duty ones, who’d defied their orders, lifting glasses to the fallen hero. To say they got thoroughly tanked would be an understatement.
The crew at O’Malley’s finally kicked the lot of them out at two. Harry and Tonks used a portkey and arrived at her flat seconds later. They both fell in a tangle of limbs.
“Harry” A tearful Tonks sniffed. Harry turned to her and wrapped her in his arms. He rocked her gently and felt her shuddering as she finally let go the pain she’d held inside. He shook with his own pain.
Disengaging one hand, Harry sealed the room and closed off the floo. He lifted the distraught Auror and carried her to her bed.
Setting Tonks on her bed, Harry pulled off her shoes and pulled the quilt down intending to cover her. Tonks had other ideas.
“Don’t leave me alone…not tonight.” Her words were quiet, and Harry understood better than anyone how much pain she was in. He climbed onto the bed, gathered the pink-haired women into his arms and weeping for lost friends, cuddled her close, rocking her, as would a father, his precious child. Tonks snuggled into his embrace, and sooner than she would have thought possible, lifted her face to his.
A touch, a kiss, the brush of hands and the fall of clothes.
They’d both sobbed into the other’s clothing until one or the other had had the bright idea of removing the sodden shirts. Needless to say, the pants and undergarments had followed.
Fingers and tongues, fumbling and fitting. And then:
Tonks recalled the pain of Harry’s initial entrance. The boy was positively huge! Unfortunately, he also had absolutely no idea how to use that monster of his but truth be told, Tonks hadn’t the heart to teach him just then. Maybe another time.
Desperate thrustings; friends forever trying to forget and to remember at the same time. Completion and completion and completion again. Over and over and over they two joined and panted and moaned and raged and cried together. Climaxes followed and again and again, they joined.
Hours passed before they could forget enough to sleep.
As she sat drinking her tea, Tonks concentrated her own magic on her well-abused nether regions. The aches eased a bit, though she knew she’d have to brave Hogwarts in order to ask Madam Pomfrey for something a bit more powerful.
A brown owl flew in through the open window, bearing a copy of The Daily Prophet.
The headlines screamed:
ORDER OF MERLIN RESCINDED!
EVIDENCE OF COLLUSION WITH THE ENEMY FOUND.
HARRY POTTER VETTED AS THE NEXT MINISTER OF MAGIC.
She set the paper on the table, grinning, glad to have that overbearing jerk out of office. She looked up just as a familiar head of messy black hair presented itself.
Tonks made the connection and began to beat her head on the table. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” She chanted.
“Well, I guess that answers my question. Now for the next one. What should we do?”
Tonks looked up from the wood and began to laugh. “Oh God, Harry, I am in so much trouble!”
“Why?” Harry turned to the stove and poured steaming water from the kettle onto the tea ball in his cup.
“WHY?” Tonks exclaimed. “Harry, you are underaged! I could go to Azkaban for shagging you!”
“I'm only a couple months underaged, and if I’m not mistaken, I did my share of the shagging, Nymmy. ‘Sides, Azkaban’s been destroyed. 'Member?” Harry smoothly ducked to avoid the paper she threw.
“Oi! Don’t call me ‘Nymmy’!”
“Why not? You seemed to like it last night!” He teased. Tonks flushed a bright red from the tips of her hair to her toes. Harry sat across the table from her.
“Tonks, last night, we were in pain. We gave each other what comfort we could. We both needed the release. Remus was our friend. We both loved him and I would like to think he’d want you to live on..." HE smirked. "Not hide yourself in a convent after wearing black for a year and a day.”
Tonks smiled shyly.
“You’re right. But if we’re ever going to do that again, you’re gonna need some training in how to use that thing of yours.” She looked up hopefully.
Harry stood and held out his hand. “No time like the present.”