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Chapter Text

To say that Harry Potter was frustrated was an understatement.

It had been over a month since he had come back to the Dursleys for the summer, one month since Voldemort returned, and here he was, a virtual prisoner in his relatives' home, forbidden from leaving. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he was desperate to know what was happening in his true world.

He would give anything to hear whatever bits and pieces of news he could, but he was getting nothing. There was complete silence from the Wizarding World. He knew he could not get a copy of the Prophet delivered to him, and the few letters he had received from Ron and Hermione had been annoyingly vague as well. It was nothing too serious, but he was not a child who could not read between the lines. It was clear to him that they were purposefully straying away from the relevant topics and keeping their letters direct and casual.

Harry did not know what the reason was, but he did not like it one bit.

He was not a stranger or a random nobody. He was Harry fucking Potter, the top name on Voldemort's hit list. If anyone deserved to know the most about the events that were unfolding, it was him. However, he was being purposefully kept in the dark, and it made him feel like crap.

His mind automatically replayed the events of the third task. Being chosen as Hogwarts' champion had been an honor, and when he had truly laid his eyes on the gleaming Triwizard Cup, he had felt like he had finally earned something in his life. That he would no longer be Harry Potter—the boy who had gotten famous because his parents had heroically sacrificed themselves for him. That he would finally be Harry Potter—the undisputed Triwizard Champion.

All of it went to smoke when he grabbed the cup and was thrown harshly on the ground, his breath knocked out of him. He recalled how helpless he had been as he was forced to participate in and witness the rebirth of his mortal enemy. He remembered with vivid detail how Voldemort's gleaming crimson eyes had been glowing malevolently as he cast the Cruciatus Curse on him, and how his pathetic band of assholes stood on the sidelines, laughing at his torture.

It was infuriating to even think about it.

Harry lifted his sleeve and gazed at the long scar on his arm. That was the spot where Pettigrew had cut him to forcibly take his blood, and Harry did not think that scar would ever vanish. It would remain on his skin as the painful reminder of his failure, his weakness.

Harry gritted his teeth as he paced in the Dursleys' backyard. The family had gone to a get together arranged by one of Vernon's colleagues, and he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was not to step foot outside the property. Ha! As if he could go anywhere. The farthest he was allowed to go was the park, and that barely took five minutes on foot.

His wand was in his hand and he twirled it around, muttering spells under his breath as he paced. He could not cast any spells but he could certainly keep practicing the wand movements, refining his skills. It was not ideal, but it was better than nothing. At least it alleviated the boredom.

As he flicked his wand once again, imagining it was Voldemort's ugly face he was cursing at, a soft, amused voice interrupted him.

"You'll wear a hole in that lawn if you keep that up. What would your nasty aunt say if she found what you did to her precious decorations?"

Harry turned sharply, his wand hidden and out of sight but ready to be of use at a moment's notice. His brows furrowed when he saw who had interrupted him.

She was a young woman, easily in her early to mid-twenties, and she had the oddest pink hair he had ever seen. The hair was tied behind her in a braid, and thin strands had broken out, framing her admittedly pretty, heart-shaped face. She was looking at him with a lopsided grin, twirling her wand idly in her hand.

Harry's face hardened as he brought his wand to bear, grasping it firmly.

"Who are you?" He asked, keeping his voice steady. She was clearly a witch, and even though he felt no malicious intent from her, he was not about to relax considering the environment out there.

She pushed off the fence that she was leaning against and strode towards him, her hands raised in a gesture of peace.

"Whoa, easy there, soldier. Name's Tonks."

"Never heard of you," Harry replied as he watched her. She took a seat in the chair and crossed her legs.

Try as he might, Harry could not help but take a good, long look at her legs. She was wearing jeans shorts and a boot which left her long legs bare. A thin sheen of sweat had developed on her skin due to the heatwave that had descended upon Little Whinging this year, making it glisten under the setting sun. Coughing, Harry averted his eyes.

"A leg guy, are you? You can look. I don't mind. No touching though, at least not yet," she winked, giggling when she saw the look on his face.

"Why are you here? I don't know you."

"I guess you wouldn't remember seeing me at Hogwarts," she muttered. "But I know you. Been looking at you going spare in that cramped up bedroom of yours all summer long. I bet you're itching to go out there but you can't, and not just because of all this heat. Merlin, I've got a cooling charm on my clothes and that's the only way I can bear it."

"Why are you sweating then?" Harry asked before he could stop himself, and he cursed himself inwardly as her grin widened.

"Oh? Noticed, did you? Quite a sharp pair of eyes you've got there," she teased. "I took the charm down a few minutes ago. Thought you'd like it."

Harry flushed slightly as she winked, making her giggle once again. Feeling pity on him, she finally relented.

"I'm sure you have questions," she remarked, gesturing to the other chair. With pursed lips, Harry walked over and took a seat.

He had been feeling that someone was watching him. Too many times, he had felt eyes on him, both in the house and whenever he went outside to get away from the Dursleys, but whenever he looked, there was no one to be seen.

"Why have you been watching me? And for how long?"

"Dumbledore's orders," she replied, idly twirling a strand of pink hair around her finger. The motion was as distracting as it was attractive and Harry could not help but stare a bit. "As for how long? Well, about a week for me."

Harry was not surprised to hear Dumbledore was involved. Only someone who had his permission could approach him here, and the old wizard was the only individual who would have him under surveillance.

"For you?" Harry's brows furrowed. "You mean there are others?"

"There were," Tonks replied. "Dung, for one. Slimy bastard. Mostly slept on the job. Dumbledore took him off when he got to know about it. I've been doing it since then. I'm sure it's your pleasure to have someone like me watching you instead of that deadbeat, eh?"

Harry watched as she rested her elbows on the table between them and leaned forward, and given how she was wearing a loose top, the neckline fell forward to reveal most of her upper chest and an ample amount of cleavage. Her arms were pushing her tits close, making them even more pronounced, and Harry felt all his blood rushing southwards as his eyes fell on them. His eyes lingered on her bra-clad mounds that he could see the faint outline of, and he simply took her in.

He might not be experienced, but he was not new to this sight either. He had allowed his eyes to feast on Fleur's assets both during the Yule Ball and the second task. Her silver one-piece swimsuit had not hidden much, and it had been impossible to keep his gaze away, particularly when he was standing right beside her or when she had embraced him after he'd saved her sister.

Still, Tonks had assets to be immensely proud of, and just like Fleur, it was impossible for him to not take in the alluring vision that she was currently presenting to him.

Tonks watched his gaze and smirked. It was too much fun teasing the poor guy like this. She had seen how frustrated he had been lately, and in her opinion, he deserved a little bit of fun.

"Uhh… right… yeah, I guess," he managed to get out, gulping audibly as he averted his gaze.

Did the heatwave get even worse? He thought, pulling at the round neck of his t-shirt to let some air in.

"Oh, that's great to hear," Tonks clapped her hands as she grinned.

Harry took a few deep breaths to compose himself and get his mind back to the matter at hand. He forced himself to look at her with as serious a face as he could muster.

"You said Dumbledore asked you guys to keep an eye on me?"

"Yep. He thought it was important, given… you know, the big bad dark lord returning from the grave…"

"You don't need to tell me. I was there," he said tightly. "I don't see the need for all this drama. I'm of age, not someone who needs babysitting. And after everything I've seen and been through, I deserve to know what's going on out there. Dumbledore keeping me like a prisoner in this caring cage of his, keeping me in the dark while I could be out there preparing and getting better… he's doing more harm than good, if you ask me."

Harry's small rant vanished Tonks' amusement right off her face. She leaned back, regarding him.

"I understand your frustration. Believe me, I do. I would've been the same if I was in your place," she replied, making him look at her. "But I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons for doing what he is doing. You can't deny that you are a big target, and you need to be protected."

"I don't want to be dependent on other people," Harry grunted. "And I don't want others to be in danger because of me."

"Well, that's not something you can control, is it? The bit about the others, I mean," Tonks clarified. "As for being not dependent on others… well, that's part of why I'm here."

"What do you mean?"

"Sirius talked to me this morning," Tonks began, only to be cut off when Harry abruptly leaned forward, almost invading her personal space. She jerked back, her eyes wide.

"You met Sirius? How's he? He's back in England? You know he's innocent? How do you know him? I—"

"Whoa, easy there," Tonks laughed shakily, pushing him back. "You'll get a whiplash if you behave like that."

"Sorry," Harry muttered with a sigh. "I got carried away there…"

"You did," she nodded. "No need to say sorry though. I understand. Now, in order: Yes. Good. Yes. Yes. He's my mum's cousin. There, happy?"

"You're related?" Harry asked in surprise as he stared at her.

"Yeah," Tonks replied. "Mum almost went bonkers when I told her about meeting him. She always believed Sirius was innocent, you know? But she couldn't do anything. No evidence, no power in the government, you know, the usual politics and corruption."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered.

Tonks gave him a small smile and continued, "Now, Sirius asked me to tell him how you're doing, and well, I told him how you were brooding all day long. It was him who gave me the idea to tease you like that, you know? Can you believe it? He asked his cousin to tease his godson like that to cheer him up. That lecher. I almost cursed his brains out."

Despite himself, Harry chuckled. That definitely sounded like Sirius, alright.

"He's so desperate to send you letters, tell you everything, but he knows it's useless. Dumbledore's forbidden anyone to tell you anything about what's going on as long as you're here."

"I don't think Sirius is the kind of guy to listen to what Dumbledore has to say," Harry replied dryly.

"He's not," Tonks nodded. "But given Dumbledore cast a ward around this neighborhood, there's not much he can do about it."

"A ward?"

"To hide certain information from you," Tonks replied. "It's complicated. Don't ask me to explain how he did it, but he's made sure you can't know what's going on out there. You can't read it, and you can't hear it either. Hell, I want to tell you and even I can't. Watch."

Tonks continued to speak but no sound came out of her mouth. Even her lips didn't move normally. Harry watched on with pursed lips as she stopped, shrugging.

"We can't speak of it, no one can," she replied.

"What about the letters I've been getting from my friends? The Prophet?"

"Well, from what I know, Dumbledore told your friends to not tell you anything because… reasons. Ron was against it, but the other one… what's her name? The stuck-up, bossy idiot who thinks she's the biggest brain around?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked in a deadpan voice.

"Yeah, her. She convinced him that it was for the best if Dumbledore was personally asking them."

"I see," Harry muttered.

"The Prophet though… it's a rag. What do you expect?" She shrugged.

Harry frowned as he belatedly noticed something.

"You said Dumbledore told them not to tell me anything, and that Hermione convinced Ron. You even know him. Does that mean you're all living together or something?"

Tonks' eyes widened and she opened her mouth to respond, but just like before, no sound came out. She even tried to nod, but she found she couldn't. However, she didn't need to, as her reaction was all the confirmation Harry needed. His eyes hardened and he stood up, sending the chair tumbling behind him.

"I see. So that's how it is," he growled. "I don't know what game they're playing, but I don't like it one bit."

"Perfectly understandable," Tonks nodded. "Sirius was the same. That's why he sent me today with this."

Harry watched as she pushed her hand under her top and began fumbling, and his eyes widened. Try as he might, he could not help but stare at how her tits strained against her top or how they moved as she rummaged beneath her shirt.

"Gotcha again," she grinned and with a wink, she pulled her hand out. Harry blinked as she reached down and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment from the pocket of her shorts. "It's here."

"You're such a tease," he muttered under his breath.

"Don't act as if you're not loving this treat," she winked. "Now cheer up. I'm doing this to lift that mood of yours. Merlin knows Sirius will chew me out if he got to know I didn't cheer you up properly."

"You don't need to do that just because he told you to," Harry replied. "He's an idiot. No need to do all this."

"Well, I'm having fun too, so I guess it's not only because he told me to," she chuckled, making him stare at her.

With a sigh, Harry rolled his eyes but he could not help himself from grinning back. This was the most eventful day he'd had in over a month and although she was weird, her demeanor was infectious. Furthermore, he was not an idiot to turn a beautiful woman away when she was willingly being like that.

"Go on, read it," she urged, pushing the parchment over towards him, and Harry reached out, picking it up.

His brows furrowed as he started reading. When he was done, he handed it back to Tonks who put it away.

"As you read, we're both stuck here for only Dumbledore knows how long, so it makes sense to do something to make it all a bit less boring."

Harry was quick to agree. He had been isolated all summer long and he could definitely use some company. Still, as he thought about Dumbledore, his lips pursed.

"What about Dumbledore? I don't think he'd like it," Harry muttered, his arms crossed.

"I don't think he'll even find out, and if he does, it's not as if he'll curse us or something. A little lecture is better than getting bored out of our minds, right?"

"I guess," Harry agreed.

"To be honest, we're supposed to watch you in secret, so he wouldn't even like me coming here and letting you know you're being watched. But eh, what's done is done," she shrugged, making him chuckle.

"You'll have to sneak in though. The Dursleys are not here today, so we're able to meet so freely. They won't allow me to bring someone over, and a girl at that."

"That's how it is? Now I want to see how they'll react when they see me come over," she grinned teasingly. "Maybe we can tell them I'm your girlfriend and I've come for some fun time with my boyfriend. We can even make some sex noises to make it more dramatic."

The thought came unbidden to his mind. He could not help but imagine himself in such a situation with Tonks and that brought some very… enticing images to his mind. He violently pushed that thought out of his mind before it started physically affecting him.

"If it gives them an aneurysm then I'm game," he replied instead, chuckling, and Tonks joined in.

"You've no idea how boring it's been out there, doing nothing but sitting on my ass," she began after a few moments. "There's nothing to do. The folks around here are some of the most boring people I've ever seen in my life. This whole neighborhood feels like something out of a TV show where everyone's in a competition to win the title of the most depressing family ever."

"That's one way to put it," Harry snorted.

"Right? And I've got to keep watching them all day long. Imagine how bad it's been for me."

"Yeah, I can imagine that," he replied with an eyeroll. Tonks looked at him and grinned.

"But not anymore. I've got you to play with," she remarked, and Harry coughed. Her grin widened.

"You're impossible," he muttered, averting his eyes when she leaned forward once again.

"Oh, come on. You've been so bored. Don't tell me you don't appreciate a little… treat from yours truly," she grinned.

"This feels like a buffet more than a treat," Harry deadpanned, eyeing her pronounced cleavage once again.

"Must be mouthwatering for an isolated young man like you then," She teased.

"Alright, that's enough of your teasing now," Harry said, and Tonks leaned back, gazing at him in amusement. "If you're really going to keep me company and as Sirius said, give me lessons on whatever you've learned from Moody, then we need to keep it fair."

"You can always return the favor. I won't mind," she replied, eyeing him appreciatively.

"I'm not talking about that," he said pointedly. "You seem to know a lot about me, but today's the first time I've met you. The dynamic here is not fair."

"Oh? You want to know about me? You should've said it earlier," Tonks grinned. She held her hand out for him to shake. "As I said, name's Tonks. Just… Tonks. Nothing else. I graduated from Hogwarts three years ago, so that would make me six years older than you, but you don't need to treat me like that."

Harry nodded absently. So, she was twenty-four.

"I began my two-year training as an auror under Moody right after graduation and I got my license last year," she continued, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully. "Hmm… what else is there? Oh right, I can do this!"

Harry jerked back in surprise when her face suddenly began to transform. Her eyes dilated, her pupil becoming vertical, and small tufts of fur grew over her face as her nose and mouth transformed as well.

"Oh wow…" Harry whispered, staring at a woman with the face of a cat.

"I can do much more," she spoke with the same face but the voice was hers, and her face began to transform once again, reverting to her normal look but her hair turned a dark shade of black that flowed behind her in waves. "This is my original look. Like it?"

Harry nodded slowly as her hair slowly reverted to pink and bound itself in a braid. He had to admit that she was a very beautiful witch.

"You must be thinking how I can do this," she continued. "I'm a metamorphmagus."

Harry's brows furrowed.

Tonks gave him a small rundown of what metamorphmagi were and how rare the skill was. She even turned her face to look like his, shocking him further.

"So yeah, glamor charms and Polyjuice are joke to someone like me. It's challenging to get used to different types of bodies and it affects my balance when I'm me as well, but the benefits are worth it."

Harry nodded. He could perfectly understand how it all would be worth it if one had such a remarkable skill.

"Well, now we both know quite a bit about each other, but I'm sure we'll learn more during the upcoming days or weeks; I don't know how long it will be until you can leave."

"Dumbledore once told me I wouldn't have to return here once I reached the age of maturity, but I'm still rotting here, so who knows?" Harry shrugged.

Tonks smiled and reached out to pat his hand consolingly. Harry stared at their hands for a moment before sighing.

The sun had almost set, and slowly, Tonks pulled back and stood up.

"Are you going to keep watch during the night as well?" He asked, looking up at her.

"Until ten," she replied. "Why?"

Harry nodded and stood up, walking over to the door. Turning around, he found her looking at him inquisitively.

"Come on then. My relatives won't be home until at least midnight. We can get started on what we're going to do in the coming weeks right away," he called out.

Grinning, Tonks followed him into the house.

Her eyes took in the décor and Tonks did not hesitate from telling him how tacky it all looked. Harry let out a small laugh as they walked out of the living room.

"Well, my aunt loves it, so no wonder," he replied, leading her towards the staircase. He pointedly kept his eyes away from the cupboard under the stairs, not wanting to bring it up, and he was grateful that Tonks did not know about his childhood. She was following right behind him while she kept looking around.

"Your relatives look more like animals than humans, if I'm being honest," she remarked casually, and Harry could not help but snort.

"You're not the first to think so," he replied, chuckling. "Come on, my room's upstairs."

"Eager to get me in your bedroom already? My, I didn't know you were so bold, Mr. Potter," she said shyly as she followed him up the stairs, although her eyes gleamed teasingly.

"I've learned enough about you so far to know that this demure behavior doesn't suit you at all," he remarked without looking behind. Tonks chuckled as she slapped him good-naturedly on his upper arm.

Harry pushed his bedroom door open, allowing her to enter first. He closed the door behind himself and looked around.

"Yeah, not the neatest room you might've seen, but I manage."

"You could clean up a bit," she muttered, crouching to pick a cushion up which she threw on the bed.

"When you're bored out of your mind and trapped in a place you hate like I am, cleaning up your room is the last thing you want to do," Harry replied. "If I had my way, I'd paint graffiti all over this house."

"I'm sure your aunt would be thrilled to see that," Tonks snorted.

"I guess she'd be more concerned with how it'd all look in front of the neighbors."

Tonks shook her head with a smile as she took a seat in the chair. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward.

"What are you going to teach me then? Sirius just said 'stuff' and that was it."

"What more would you expect from that lazy idiot?" Tonks muttered. "Look, we can't cast any spells in here, so teaching you actual magic is out of question."

"I know. I didn't expect you to."

"Yeah. But I can teach you everything short of actual spellcasting. Think magical theory, spells, wand movements, battle tactics, maybe even get you started with the basics of silent casting," Tonks counted out.

"I already know silent casting," Harry replied.

"What?"

"Yeah, I've been doing it for about a year now. I started on it during the tournament."

"Ah yeah, the Triwizard tournament. I forgot about that," Tonks muttered. "Well, good for you. We can cover the rest easily. I should warn you though. It won't be like Hogwarts lessons. Moody was a right bastard with me, just like all his students."

"So, you're going to be a right bitch with me. Got it."

His little comment earned him a slap on his thigh, and Harry yelped.

"Merlin, you hit hard!"

"Should remind you to control your tongue in front of your teacher then," Tonks smirked.

Feeling bold after all the teasing he'd had to endure at her hands in the past hour, Harry leaned forward and smirked back. "You sure you want me to control my tongue, teacher?"

Harry did not know where the sudden boldness had come from, but seeing how Tonks' eyes widened, he felt even more confident. However, he did not want to push his luck and instead of escalating, he leaned back and simply gazed at her.

"Oh, so you can make that kind of face. Good to see," he teased. Indeed, she was truly surprised. However, the look of surprise did not remain on her face for long as she leaned forward as well, smirking.

"You really don't want to play this game, Potter."

"I think I do," Harry replied with the same smirk.

Tonks stared at him for a long moment before she finally leaned back, her lips quirked.

"Looks like you got some of your godfather's tendencies as well," she shook her head. "Just don't get yourself in trouble and you're good to go."

"I only place bets I know I'll win," he replied. If he was being honest with himself, he had no fucking clue what he was even saying or if it made any sense. He simply blurted out whatever came to his mind. However, it seemed fortune was in his favor as it worked.

Tonks simply shook her head. "Now, shut up. If this continues, we won't get started on anything."

She pulled out a moleskin pouch from the pocket of her shorts and reached inside. Harry's eyes widened when she dumped two thick tomes on the table.

"These," she patted the tomes, "are from the Black Library. Sirius sent them for you. You'll find most of the spells you'll learn in your remaining years at Hogwarts in there."

"That's all?" Harry asked in surprise. "I expected more, to be honest."

"Then let me finish," she shook her head. "There are many more spells, both offensive and defensive. They're all hexes, jinxes, and curses though. No transfiguration. The Blacks preferred to be direct than to play around. There are auror grade spells and even those that are… not exactly dark, but frowned upon."

"Like… what?"

"Bonebreakers, blood-boiling curse, concussion hex, you get the idea," she replied. "I was lucky Moody taught me. He has a… broader mindset than other auror trainers, shall we say."

"He taught you what the Ministry wanted and what they didn't," Harry surmised.

"On point," she pointed a finger at him. "I've already leafed through those tomes and there's nothing new to me, but you… I believe you can learn a whole lot from whatever's in there."

"You bet I can," Harry muttered as he picked up one of the tomes and opened a random page. "This is quite… graphic, I should say."

"It came from the Black Library. What did you expect?" She shrugged. "Now, as you've already seen, these books teach you the incantation, the wand movements, what the spell does and how it does it, how to defend against it, how to reverse or cure its effects, and various creative ways to use the curse."

Harry nodded. "I can't cast these spells here, but I can definitely learn everything else."

"Exactly," Tonks nodded. "And when you are out of here, you can start to practice spellcasting properly. It'd take time to master and start to effectively using all these spells in a fight, but you'll manage just fine."

Harry nodded. The tomes had spells that were most definitely dark in nature and at one time, he would've been skeptical of even thinking of using them, but his mind once again flashed back to the graveyard and his eyes hardened.

"While you do that, I'll be drilling you with battle tactics that Moody taught me," Tonks continued, breaking him out of his thoughts. Harry nodded and shut the tome, putting it back on the table.

For the next few hours, they talked. Tonks imparted some of her knowledge to Harry, they teased each other some more, and by the time her departure was imminent, they both felt as if they'd known each other for a long time. Harry found her a charming personality to be around, while Tonks also discovered that once you went past his suspicious exterior, Harry was a fun and witty person with quite a bit of daring to boast of.

"We'll have to think of something to stop my relatives from finding out who you really are," Harry remarked as he pushed his bedroom door open. Tonks walked out first and he followed, absently closing the door.

"I can sneak in easily," she replied.

"Yeah, but that's a hassle. We'll have to keep on the lookout. It'd be better to think of something that would explain your presence in here."

"Like what?" She asked, her brows furrowed.

Harry looked thoughtful for a long moment as he wondered what the best way to have Tonks over would be. It had to be something that would explain her presence with him throughout the day. Tonks once again coyly suggested being his fake girlfriend but Harry immediately rejected the idea. The last thing his relatives would ever want was for him to be happy or treated right. However, that gave him the perfect idea, and with a grin, Harry began to explain it to Tonks. Her eyes widened as Harry kept speaking and by the time he was done, she had an impressed look on her face.

"I didn't know you had such a devious mind."

"It didn't take much effort," Harry chuckled. "All I needed to remember was that my relatives would believe anything bad about me. Using their hatred for me like this seems like the best way to fuck with them."

Tonks could only shake her head at that.

XXXXX

Harry had come to an agreement with his relatives that he would not be doing anything for them and they could pretend as if the other did not exist. That was the only reason why Vernon paused right before addressing him when the doorbell rang.

Petunia eyed him hatefully as she slammed her washcloth on the counter and marched out of the living room. Barely a minute later, she called for her husband.

Harry sat silently as Vernon glared at him as well on his way out. He wondered whether the walrus and the banshee would screech on their way back in.

He was pleasantly disappointed when he saw them return silently, albeit with sneers on their faces. Both seemed to be struggling to keep themselves composed.

"Are you Mr. Harry Potter of 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" The woman with dark hair spoke, and Harry stood up, looking confused.

"Yes…?" He replied. "What's going on?"

"Mr. Potter, I need to inform you that a psychiatric evaluation order has been issued by the court in your case. This means, until further notice, I am required to supervise you at all times, both inside your home and when you leave it. This supervision is part of the court's directive to ensure that you're evaluated properly and that your well-being, as well as the safety of others, is monitored closely during this time."

Harry stared back, perplexed.

"What?"

"I understand this may feel intrusive, but this is a legal requirement, and I will be with you at all times—whether you're at home or going about your daily activities. You are not under arrest, but you are required to comply with this order until it is lifted by the court," the woman continued.

"Wait, so you're saying you're going to be with me wherever I go?" Harry asked in shock.

"Yes, that's correct. I'll accompany you at home and wherever else you need to go, whether it's for work, recreation, or other daily tasks. My presence is simply to ensure that the conditions of the evaluation are being met. If you need to leave the house, we'll make arrangements for me to go with you."

The discussion continued for a few minutes and throughout it all, the Dursleys watched with both confusion and glee on their faces. It was when the woman said that there had been multiple complaints filed regarding his mental health over the years that their eyes widened, especially when she told them that he'd been seen swinging a wooden stick around like a magician.

Harry had to keep himself from laughing out loud throughout the drama. He had to hand it to Tonks. She was a remarkable actress, and she was pulling off this role brilliantly.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Vernon said politely, making the woman turn to him. "Does this mean you will possibly take him with you?"

The hint of hope in Vernon's voice made Tonks sneer and she glared at him.

"No, Mr. Dursley. I am here to ensure Mr. Potter's safety and the safety of everyone around him. This court order requires me to stay with him at all times apart from night. I shall be arriving in the morning every day and leave by ten at night. Do not worry. I shall endeavor to not inconvenience you or your family during my time in your house."

Turning back to Harry, she continued, "Do you have any questions about the process? I am here to answer them."

"I guess… I understand," Harry replied. "I don't know why this is happening though, but it's not as if I can do anything about it. It's a bit much but… fine. Let's get it over with."

Without another word, Harry strode out of the room, with Tonks following behind him at a sedate pace. She stumbled slightly at the base of the stairs where Harry was waiting for her with a grin and he quickly caught her, steadying her on her feet. They turned around and climbed up the stairs just as Vernon and Petunia emerged from the room, looking up at their retreating selves.

As Harry walked inside his room and shut the door, he turned to Tonks and grinned. She had transfigured her clothes into a proper uniform and to say that it suited her was putting it mildly.

"Quite an actress, you are," he remarked as he sat on his bed, and Tonks joined him, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.

"Well then, that's sorted," she smirked.

As he looked at her, Harry could not help but chuckle. She was indeed something else.

To be continued…

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Chapter Text

To say that Harry's summer had improved massively over the past couple of weeks was an understatement.

Even something little would've been a massive improvement from the morose and isolated mood, but the presence of Tonks had changed everything. They spent the entire day together, either in his room, around the house, or wandering in the neighborhood. She arrived right after breakfast and left late at night, and the only time he was left alone was when he was sleeping.

Normally, being with one person for so long would've started to grate at someone, but neither Harry nor Tonks felt anything but happiness and fun when they were together. They had grown much closer than either would have thought. Tonks had even told Harry what her real name was, although she had also threatened him with an untold amount of pain should he ever utter it. Harry was not one to relent so easily though, and finally, he had managed to convince her to let him call her 'Nym'. That was the most she was willing to allow, and Harry was happy with it.

The two weeks or so had been filled with Tonks teaching Harry what she knew, Harry learning from the tomes she'd brought him, and them getting to know each other better. Despite the age difference between them, they both felt it was nonexistent.

That did not mean she was not strict with him at all when it came to teaching. She had established a few ground rules in the very beginning. There was no room for whining or complaining about what they were going to learn and the process. She was not here to coddle him but help him prepare for a fucking war. If he was bad at something, she would be blunt about it, and he would have to keep at it until he was not. Furthermore, both she and Harry were mature enough to acknowledge that being a young man of age in the presence of a woman who was not much older than him, there were bound to be certain… motivations, and thus, she had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to try to impress her. This was about him learning what he needed to survive, not showing off or earning some brownie points with her. It was embarrassing and presumptive, but Harry could not truly fault her for it. There was a time for teasing, and training time was not it.

That didn't mean they didn't have fun though.

When they weren't training, they found other ways to pass the time—without magic. Tonks had made that rule early on.

We can't use wands, and we can't cast spells in front of the muggles. No problem. It's gonna be just us and whatever dumb things we can come up with to stay sane.

At first, Harry thought it was ridiculous. He'd spent multiple summers in this depressing place and the rare occasions on which he could use spells in his bedroom were his only saving grace. But the more time they spent together, the more he realized that not using magic was half the fun.

It started with something simple—Tonks complaining about how bloody boring Little Whinging was.

"How do you even survive here?" she groaned one afternoon, sprawled out on his bed with her arms stretched behind her head. "I've seen drying paint with more personality than this place."

Harry snorted. "I don't. That's why I spend all my time now either training or walking around in circles hoping something remotely interesting happens. Good thing you're here, eh?"

Tonks hummed thoughtfully. "You ever play football?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Muggle sport. Bloke kicks a ball, other bloke tries to stop him, everyone screams at the telly like their life depends on it. Ringing any bells?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know what football is. What about it?"

Tonks sat up with a mischievous grin. "I was thinking we should watch a game, or even play."

"Yeah," Harry snorted. "Fat chance of the Dursleys letting an active sport run on their telly."

"Yeah, it must be something foreign to them, physical activity," Tonks snorted. "We can play though. That park looks like a good enough place. We can go in the afternoon when there's no one out. Less chance of people disturbing us."

And that was how Harry found himself using a half-deflated rubber ball that had been abandoned in the park for an impromptu one-on-one football match against an auror. "It'd be more fun," Tonks had said with a grin. And as it turned out, she was terrible at it.

"Oi! That was a foul!" she yelled as Harry expertly maneuvered around her and sent the ball straight past her makeshift goal.

Harry smirked. "It's not my fault you have no coordination."

"That is a vicious lie!" Tonks declared dramatically, jabbing a finger at him. "I am extremely coordinated when it counts!"

Harry gestured toward the ball that had rolled to a stop behind her. "Clearly."

She huffed but ultimately laughed, shoving him as she jogged over to retrieve it. "Alright, Potter, best of three."

"Didn't I already win best of three?"

She waved him off. "That round doesn't count. I wasn't trying."

It was ridiculous. They were both sweating buckets, covered in dirt, and playing like two kids with nothing better to do, but Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed that much.

Other days, they found different ways to entertain themselves.

Tonks had a habit of people-watching—something Harry had never really considered a pastime, but she made it fun.

"Alright, that old lady over there," she whispered conspiratorially as they sat on a bench in the park one evening. "Spy or serial killer?"

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "She's knitting, Tonks."

"Exactly," Tonks said, her eyes narrowing. "A perfect cover."

Harry sighed but played along. "Spy. No one knits that fast unless they've got some kind of MI5 training."

Tonks nodded approvingly. "I like how you think, Potter. Okay, that guy in the suit—accountant or secret mob boss?"

Harry glanced at the man crossing the street, briefcase in hand. "Mob boss. Definitely."

"What makes you say that?"

"No accountant walks like that. He's too confident."

Tonks grinned. "Excellent deduction, very Sherlock of you."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. He had to admit, it was weirdly fun making up backstories for random people, even if it was a completely ridiculous way to spend their time.

Then there were the stupid bets.

"I bet you can't balance that book on your head for a full minute," Tonks challenged one evening, arms crossed as they lounged in his bedroom.

Harry smirked. "That's too easy."

"Then do it."

Harry grabbed one of his textbooks and placed it carefully on his head. He got to about thirty seconds before Tonks accidentally nudged his foot and sent it tumbling off.

"Oops," she said innocently.

Harry shot her a look. "You so did that on purpose."

"I would never cheat," she said with mock outrage.

"You always cheat."

She just grinned. "Alright, my turn."

Harry crossed his arms. "I bet you can't do five proper push-ups."

Tonks gasped. "How dare you doubt my physical prowess?"

"I've seen you trip over nothing, Nym. I stand by my bet."

Tonks dropped to the ground and got into position, full of determination. She managed four before her arms wobbled and she collapsed dramatically onto the floor.

Harry burst out laughing. "Wow. That was tragic."

Tonks groaned into the carpet. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

She lifted her head just enough to glare at him. "You really enjoy being right, don't you?"

"Yep."

Sometimes, they didn't need to do anything at all. Some nights, they just sat outside, staring up at the stars while the Dursleys completely ignored them.

Tonks leaned back in the chair with a sigh. "You ever wonder how much simpler things would be if we were just normal muggles?"

Harry lay sprawled on the grass beside her, his hands behind his head and his eyes trained at the starry sky. "I was like that for most of my life. But I get what you mean. Sometimes, yeah."

"Wouldn't be worrying about wars or Dark Lords."

"No," Harry agreed. "But then I wouldn't have met the people in that world. Never known about Sirius' existence. Or yours."

Tonks turned her head toward him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Yeah. Guess there are some things worth all the madness."

Harry gave her a soft smile as he got up. "Come on. Let's get some final practices done before you've got to leave."

Tonks watched him as he got to his feet with a soft smile on her face. She nodded and followed him back inside.

The last few weeks had been… much different compared to what she had expected. She didn't know what to expect, really, but what she would've never expected was how close she would grow to this young wizard who frankly had the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Yet, even with such a massive burden, he walked with his head held high, always striving to do his best, and never for his sole benefit.

Even though the advanced studies and training he was and would be going under were for his benefit, she wholeheartedly believed that his primary motivation was to prevent the Dark Lord and his followers from achieving their goal. It was a trait of his that endeared him to her.

She was brought out of her musings when she heard that good-for-nothing uncle of his call for him, and she watched as he made his way over, silently telling her to stay behind. He returned barely a minute later, and the amused curl of his lips told her it was a piece of unexpectedly good news.

"They're leaving for the entire weekend," he told her with a grin once they entered his bedroom. A grin that was shortly matched by her.

XXXXX

Tonks flopped onto Harry's bed with a loud, exaggerated groan. "Merlin's saggy left—finally. I was starting to think they'd never leave."

Harry chuckled as he kicked the door shut behind him. "It has been weird seeing them act so polite around you."

"Polite?" Tonks scoffed, throwing an arm over her eyes. "That's one word for it. I'd say 'terrified out of their wits' is more accurate."

Harry smirked. "Can't imagine why. A no-nonsense law enforcement officer mysteriously assigned to their house, watching their every move? What's there to be nervous about?"

Tonks cracked open one eye and grinned. "Oh, I definitely played it up a bit. Kept making comments like, 'Routine home inspections are a fascinating part of my job, don't you think, Vernon?' or 'Confiscating illegal contraband is so rewarding.'"

Harry outright laughed. "You're evil."

"Just a little," she admitted, stretching out like she owned the place. "But it worked, didn't it? They bolted the first chance they got. Now we have the house to ourselves."

Harry sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed. "So what do we do with it?"

She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. "Well… how about a proper dinner?"

"It's morning," Harry deadpanned.

"I'm not talking about right now," Tonks rolled her eyes. "I mean tonight. Let's face it. You normally eat Dursley-approved food. Even I've seen how depressing that is."

"Unhealthy, more like. I'd know, I made it for them for years," Harry muttered.

Tonks bristled once again. They'd grown closer over the past few weeks, and naturally, being the nosy little prat that she was, she had discovered almost everything about Harry's home life. It irked her something fierce that Dumbledore forced Harry to stay here, even though he was of age. He didn't need to remain in this metaphorical prison, but he was still choosing to, only because this was the safest place for him.

Tonks did not want to buy that explanation one bit, no matter how much truth there was to it, and there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn't just ask him to leave if this was truly the place where the Dark Lord or anyone else connected to him couldn't attack. That sort of security was not to be taken lightly, no matter how secure the other place was.

Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she grinned at Harry who was looking at her with a small frown. "Then we're cooking."

Harry stared at her for a long moment before he sighed. "Sure. But don't make me regret it."

The grin on her face didn't reassure him in the slightest.

XXXXX

Harry quickly realized that cooking with Tonks was nothing short of a disaster.

"You sure you wouldn't prefer using a bit of magic? There's no one around, you know…" Harry remarked, chopping an onion.

"Yeah, well, where's the fun in easy?" Tonks said, flicking flour at him from across the counter.

Harry swatted it away, giving her a mock glare. "Was that necessary?"

"Absolutely," she said solemnly.

Between the two of them, they managed to dirty nearly every surface in the kitchen. Tonks had insisted on doing things "the proper way," which somehow translated into completely ignoring recipes and making things up as they went along.

"This looks questionable," Harry said, staring at the vaguely lumpy, half-burnt sauce Tonks had been working on.

Tonks sniffed dramatically. "You wound me, Potter. That is the sauce of champions."

"It's the sauce of food poisoning."

"Only one way to find out." She grabbed a spoon and held it out. "Go on, taste test."

Harry leaned back warily. "Why don't you try it first?"

Tonks narrowed her eyes. "Coward."

"I prefer 'strategic thinker.'"

After some bickering (and a lot of laughing), they somehow managed to put together a half-decent meal. It wasn't pretty, but it was theirs, and as they sat at the table—plates piled high, flour still smudged on Tonks' cheek—Harry realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually enjoyed being in this house.

"I'll be back in a few. Go pick a good movie for us," Tonks said once they were done with dinner and Harry saw her walk out of the kitchen and towards the staircase. Shrugging, he fixed things up quickly and grabbed some snacks from the Dursleys' stash before he sprawled out on the couch in the living room.

XXXXX

Tonks stared at herself in the mirror of Harry's bedroom. She had just cleaned all the flour and whatever else she'd gotten on her clothes and skin. Being an auror, she always kept adequate clothing at hand and she'd already cleaned herself up.

Taking a moment for herself, she stared at her naked body in the mirror and vainly looked herself up and down. Staying in modified bodies most of the time had made her appreciate her actual self much more, which was the form she had donned whenever she came here nowadays. Her eyes fell on her flat belly before she turned to the side to study her ass. Indeed, her real body was pretty curvy, although her tits always filled out a bit whenever she changed back. Being an active auror with a heavy set upstairs was not always practical, and she was lucky to have her powers, but it felt good to have a pair this big.

She reached up and cupped her tits, admiring them in the mirror. Yeah, a nice set, alright.

Five minutes later, she had thrown a t-shirt and shorts over her bra and panties and she walked down the stairs to have some relaxing evening time until she had to leave. Harry turned to her with a smile as she entered which quickly morphed into a look of surprise when he took a good look at her.

"What?" Tonks asked as he continued to stare.

"Oh, nothing. It's just… I haven't seen you look so… laidback before, I guess."

"This is what I usually wear at home," Tonks replied with a shrug that did some really nice things to her tits—something Harry couldn't tear his eyes from.

"I didn't know usual home clothes looked so… sexy," Harry muttered.

"Oh?" Tonks' eyes glinted mischievously as she grinned. The t-shirt was a bit tight around her bust but in no way see-through. "If this looks sexy to you, Mr. Potter, then I suggest you take a nice, long, cold shower."

She walked in and threw herself on the couch to his left. She did not miss how he tensed for a moment before slowly relaxing, and her smirk widened. It was fun to play with him like this.

"So, what do we gonna watch?" She asked, staring at the screen. The opening credits were already playing and she leaned against him. Harry's breath hitched slightly but he quickly composed himself. Glancing down at her sideways, he found her staring at the TV screen and his eyes narrowed.

'Well, two can play this game' he thought, and put his arm around her shoulder, although he took care to avoid her left breast even though the angle made them look all the more enticing.

Tonks stifled a smirk as they continued watching the movie, although Harry was barely paying any attention. It was the first time he was feeling the warmth of a woman up close, all pressed up against him. His hand was on her shoulder and he decided to take the plunge, consequences be damned. He began to stroke her soft skin while watching, and all Tonks did was release a small sigh as she leaned even more against him.

Harry took it as her approval and he began to stroke her arm as well. His eyes fell on her legs folded beneath her on the couch and he wondered if he should go ahead and stroke it as well. Her scent was intoxicating and he could feel his manhood straining against his shorts.

Tonks seemed to sense his attention was not on the movie and she glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye. "You don't like the movie or something?"

Harry looked at her with a deadpan expression on his face. "You're not trying to play innocent here, are you?"

"Hmm? I don't know what you mean," she replied confusedly, although she was enjoying this very much. A coy expression grew on her face. "Don't tell me the great Harry Potter has not snuggled with a girl before," she teased.

Harry simply muttered something under his breath as he turned away from her. Frowning, Tonks cupped his cheek and made him turn to her.

"You should be more confident in yourself, Harry," she said gently, gazing him in the eyes. "You're a powerful wizard, bright too. And you're one good-looking bloke. Merlin, I would've snagged you for myself if I were in Hogwarts with you," she chuckled.

However, Harry found no humor in it. He kept staring at her, prompting Tonks to fall silent. She turned to him and was taken aback by the sheer intensity of his emerald gaze. Merlin, those eyes had to be magical.

She was further shocked when Harry took her hand off his cheek and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers.

Tonks remained frozen for a moment but Harry pounced, applying more pressure to her lips. He tenderly sucked on her lower lip, gently nibbling before he opened his mouth. When he felt her respond, he pushed the throttle entirely and pushed his tongue into her mouth.

Both Harry and Tonks lost themselves in the sensation, their lips moving softly against each other as their tongues met, playing with each other. Their breaths became one, and Harry pressed on, unwilling to let the moment go to waste. He shifted on the couch, turning more towards her and pressing even more of his body against hers. His hands that had initially been on her shoulder slowly trailed downwards until he was stroking her back over her t-shirt, pulling her close.

For her part, Tonks was surprised with how good of a kisser he was. She had a hard time believing that he'd never kissed a girl before. She could feel how aroused he was, and it spiked her own arousal. Her breath hitched when he began to stroke her belly over her t-shirt, gently brushing the underside of her tits, before she felt his hand push inside, stroking her bare skin.

Harry loved how she felt. Her skin was smooth—just as he'd imagined. He kept stroking her back under her t-shirt as they kissed, pulling her closer. Her entire front was pressed against him as he stroked upwards, his hand passing over the strap of her brassiere. He had half a mind to unsnap it, such was the high he was feeling right now, but he resisted the temptation. He'd already shown a lot of bravado. He didn't want to push his luck more than he already had.

He could feel his manhood straining against his shorts, throbbing like never before. He clenched his pelvic muscles, running his hand all over her back, his fingers playing with her bra strap as they kissed.

Slowly, Tonks pulled back, her lips swollen and her eyes half-lidded. Harry was no better and for a moment, they simply gazed at each other.

"Morgana, you surely don't need any tips on how to kiss a girl or make her feel wanted," she breathed, grinning, and Harry couldn't help but grin back. He almost stumbled back into his old habit of seeking validation or approval but stopped himself at the last moment.

"Guess you liked it?" He teased instead, smirking.

"Boy, you've no idea," she replied, shaking her head.

Suddenly, her eyes fell on his erection that was jutting out proudly beneath his shorts, forming a tent, and she stared at it for a moment. Harry followed her gaze before looking up just as she looked up as well. For a few seconds, they said or did nothing but stare at each other before Tonks shifted.

Harry's eyes followed her as she got off the couch and got down on her knees on the carpeted floor, her face mere inches from his manhood that lurched once she placed her hands on his inner thighs.

"It'd be rude of me not to take care of this after I caused it, right?" She asked coyly, her hand traveling up to yank his shorts down. Harry lifted his ass, allowing her to pull the fabric down his thighs and his manhood lurched forward powerfully, springing out of its confines. Tonks' eyes widened at the sight of it. "Holy…"

Her reaction added another point to Harry's egotistical confidence and he grinned.

"I take it you like what you see?"

Tonks did not reply. Once she pulled his shorts down his ankles, she threw them away and took his cock in her hand, stroking it softly. Harry could not stop the groan of pleasure that escaped his lips. This was the first time someone other than himself was even seeing, let alone touching his manhood, and the feeling was indescribable.

Tonks seemed to know what she was doing. She leaned over and dropped a thick glob of spit right on top of his cock, spreading her saliva all over his throbbing manhood. She began to stroke him gently as Harry leaned back on the couch, his eyes trained on her. He watched as she gripped his manhood firmly, leaned forward, and rolled her tongue all over the head of his prick.

"Oh Nym…" Harry groaned, making her grin. She leaned further forward, slowly wrapping her lips around his cock, and descended, taking him in her mouth.

Harry felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. He'd heard about this, even watched some on the porno Dudley thought he was being secretive with, but nothing could compare to the real feeling of having your cock sucked by an absolutely breathtaking woman.

Tonks had decided that she would go for the jugular now, and she wasted no time in repeatedly slamming her mouth down onto his cock. Harry was a groaning mess, desperately grabbing onto the couch as Tonks kept plunging her mouth up and down, taking his entire length deep within her throat with every move. He felt her slick tongue rolling all around his prick, splashing and sloshing alongside her saliva in that hot mouth of hers, and he couldn't have looked away even if he'd tried. The thrill of gazing this woman in the eye while she blew him off heightened the pleasure to a new level.

Tonks kept moaning lewdly around his fat cock as she kept slamming her mouth up and down erratically, when suddenly, Harry's eyes bugged out.

"OH FUCKING HELL!" He cried out. The sensation was otherworldly, and wide-eyed, he stared at Tonks who gazed up innocently at him, her mouth stuffed with his prick. He was sure she had done something, and in an instant, realization dawned on him. She had used her metamorphic powers to make it even more pleasurable for him.

His breathing ragged, Harry stared at her with wide eyes as she kept plunging his rod into her throat that had now started to work rather unnaturally, but instead of creeping him out, the sensation pleasured him in unimaginable ways. And it was indeed unimaginable, even though it was happening to him right here, right now!

Tonks kept modifying the suction around his cock so that he was pleasured at each pulse point. This took careful modification of her throat, but she had managed it with perfect ease. Anything to make this guy's first blowjob as memorable as she could. There was also a sense of victory in knowing that not only was she taking Harry's first blowjob, and perhaps even more as well, but she would be giving him a benchmark that no random woman would be able to match, let alone surpass.

With renewed excitement, she began bobbing her head up and down, easing her head down until the head of his prick touched the back of her throat. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes with a mouthful of cock, seeing his wide-eyed stare that had remained, his breathing heavy, and she winked before slowly pushing even further.

Harry's eyes widened even more, if it was possible. He had only heard mentions of it in passing, but it was now happening to him! She was going to deepthroat him, or rather, she was going to push the boundaries of deepthroating!

He almost came from the thought alone, but he reigned himself in… barely. His cock throbbed harder inside her throat that somehow kept sucking all around it. All the while, she kept pushing further, manipulating her throat to accommodate every bit of him, until nothing remained beyond her plump lips that were now wrapped right at the base of his cock, her nose pressed firmly against his crotch.

Harry breathed heavily, his eyes locked with hers, before he let out another loud groan when she began to bob her throat, skillfully massaging his dick still lodged inside. He couldn't believe what was happening anymore. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined something like this.

For a long moment, Tonks remained unmoving, doing nothing outwardly but inside her throat was another story. His entire cock was being massaged and stimulated, surrounded by the warmth and wetness all around, and all he could do was stare at her, his mouth open. Finally, after Merlin and Morgana only knew how much time had passed, Tonks began to ease herself back up his cock, slowly sliding her tongue along his shaft until only the tip remained inside her mouth. Her plump lips remained wrapped around it as she brought her hand up to stroke him firmly.

"Fuck, Nym!" Harry breathed. There was nothing else he could say, really. Her throat had felt incredible and as he looked at her, his gaze descended lower. Her t-shirt was sticking to her chest, slick and wet with saliva that had dribbled down her chin while she'd been blowing him off, and her tits were heaving, straining against the fabric. Harry could not help but think of going even further with this woman, exploring and worshipping her incredible body and even fucking her. They had already come farther than he'd ever envisioned, and now that they had, the idea of having sex with his hot tutor and friend did not seem too farfetched.

"Mmm… You liked that?" Tonks asked as she pulled his cock out of her mouth, stroking him firmly as she rolled her tongue all over the bulging head of his prick.

"Fucking hell, Nym. You need to ask me that!?" Harry replied in a disbelieving voice.

"Not really, but a girl likes to be praised," she grinned, and before Harry could react, she plunged her mouth back onto his rod.

"Merlin yesss…" Harry groaned out loud and he instinctively reached out to grab her by the back of her head. Threading his fingers through her silky midnight hair, he began to maneuver her on his cock, feeling his release approaching him at a furious pace.

"Finally close, eh?" She grinned as she pulled off, dropping another thick glob of saliva on the crown and smearing it all over his prick before starting to jerk him off hard and fast.

"Fuck, Nym. I can't hold back any longer. Even this much was torture!"

"Oh, you poor baby," Tonks taunted. "You were holding it all in? You can give it all to me now, Harry. Give it to me, baby. Let me gulp it all down for you!"

Tonks' dirty talk did the job more than her furious handjob did. The moment she felt him shake in her grasp, she grinned and descended onto his rod once again, slamming him entirely down her mouth until he was once again pushed deep in her throat. Harry's eyes bugged out at the sensation of her sucking every inch of his cock and he couldn't even get a word out.

The head of his cock expanded, and barely a second later, a huge spurt of his cum shot out of his cock and splattered directly against the wall of her throat. Tonks manipulated her muscles expertly, gulping it all down as Harry kept pumping spurt after spurt of his thick, potent load deep within her throat. She felt it all slide down into her belly, with more following suit.

He was relentless, and his orgasm seemed never-ending, and this time, it was her turn to be shocked. She couldn't believe how much he could shoot, and even though she was expertly swallowing everything he was giving her, the amount he was cumming was slowly becoming too much for even her. She kept swallowing but she could not prevent his cock from sliding back out of her throat. Now in her mouth, he still kept shooting his load, and the thick seed began to pool inside her mouth until it started to leak from the sides and down her lips and chin, dropping on her upper chest and t-shirt, trailing beneath onto her bra-clad mounds.

Feeling especially dirty and bold, she took his cock out once she couldn't swallow anymore and aimed it at her face. His hot, potent seed splattered all over her face, covering her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her lips, and even her chin where it kept dropping all over her chest.

Finally, Harry grunted and with one final massive shot right at her cleavage, he collapsed on the couch, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy.

All that was left behind was the ruined mess that Tonks looked like, covered in Harry's hot cum with her mouth overflowing that she somehow managed to swallow without wasting any more of it.

"Holy shit…" Harry somehow managed to whisper, and Tonks could only nod slowly.

Holy shit indeed.

To be continued…

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Chapter Text

The Dursleys would've keeled over from heart attacks a dozen times if they could've seen the absolute chaos unfolding in their pristine, suffocatingly normal living room right now.

The décor, the furniture, the faint hum of the telly in the background— it was all a backdrop to something so wildly out of place it might as well have been a fever dream.

Tonks was still on her knees, right there in front of Harry, her head tilted back slightly as she caught her breath. Harry, meanwhile, sat frozen, chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon, staring down at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. She was a mess—an absolute, glorious mess. His cum streaked across her face, thick and white, glistening in the dim light as it trickled lazily down her cheek, over the bridge of her nose, and dripped in slow, teasing drops onto her chest. It slid down further, disappearing into the shadowy line of her cleavage like it had a mind of its own.

Her top—some flimsy thing that probably hadn't been designed for this level of chaos—was soaked, clinging to her skin like a second layer. Her breasts, full and straining against the fabric, looked like they were one deep breath away from busting out entirely. They heaved with every inhale, the damp material outlining every curve, every detail, leaving nothing to the imagination. Harry's brain short-circuited trying to process it all. This couldn't be real. No way.

"You made a right mess of me," Tonks said, her voice low and playful, not a hint of real complaint in it. She dragged a finger through the sticky mess on her cheek, scooping up a generous dollop of his cum, and brought it to her lips. Her tongue darted out, licking it clean with a slow, deliberate swipe, all while keeping her eyes locked on his. A wicked, lecherous smirk curled her utterly fuckable lips as she watched his mouth open just a little bit more. She was enjoying this way too much—his reaction was like a drug to her, and she was hooked.

"Merlin's bloody beard, Nym…" Harry managed to choke out, his voice rough and barely above a whisper. His legs felt like jelly, and his head was spinning. He'd never felt anything like this—never even dreamed of it. It was like every nerve in his body had lit up at once and then fried out, leaving him dazed and buzzing. "I think I've died. This is heaven, right? Or hell. I don't even care."

Tonks let out a throaty giggle, the sound echoing around the room as she reached out again, this time brushing her fingers lightly against his now-softening dick. She scooped up the last traces of his cum clinging there, her touch feather-light and teasing, and popped her fingers back into her mouth. She sucked them clean with an exaggerated little hum, like she was savoring the taste of some rare delicacy.

"Mmm. I take it you liked that, then?" she asked, her tone dripping with mock innocence as she sat back on her heels. Her arse hit the floor with a soft thud, and she stretched her legs out in front of her, gazing up at him with that same devilish smirk.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away. They were glued to her chest—those massive, perfect tits practically begging to break free from her ruined top and her flimsy little bra. The damp fabric clung to her like it was painted on, the faint outline of her bra and her nipples just barely visible through the mess.

Slowly, reluctantly, he dragged his gaze up to her face. She was still scooping bits of his cum off her skin, licking her fingers clean with little flicks of her tongue, and Merlin help him, it was the hottest, dirtiest thing he'd ever seen. How could something so filthy be so bloody beautiful? He had no idea, and his brain wasn't exactly in a state to figure it out.

"Liked it?" he finally croaked, running a shaky hand through his already-messy hair. "Nym, I think you just rewired my entire bloody existence. I'm not even sure I'm still alive."

Her smirk widened, and she let out another laugh, this one softer but no less mischievous. "Oh, you're alive, alright. I can still hear that heart of yours pounding from here." She leaned forward just a bit, giving him an even better view of her chest as she propped herself up on her hands. "Your silence earlier was answer enough, though. You didn't need to say a word—I could see it all over your face. And… other places."

Harry groaned, half out of embarrassment, half out of lingering arousal. "You're evil, you know that? Pure evil."

"Evil?" she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense, which only drew his eyes right back to her breasts. "Me? I'm an angel, Harry. A very generous, very talented angel who just gave you the time of your life. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" He snorted, finally regaining a bit of his usual sass as the shock started to wear off. "I'm pretty sure I should be sending you a bloody fruit basket or something. Maybe a medal. 'Nym: Destroyer of Minds and Tops Everywhere.'"

She threw her head back and laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Oh, I like that. 'Destroyer of Tops.' Might get it tattooed somewhere." She winked at him, then ran her hands down her front, smoothing the damp fabric over her curves with an exaggerated slowness that made his mouth go dry all over again. "Though I think this one's not gonna qualify, thanks to you."

"Me?" Harry shot back, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of the couch for support. His legs still weren't fully cooperating. "You're the one who—y'know—did all that. I was just… along for the ride."

"Along for the ride?" Tonks arched a brow, her lips twitching as she fought back another grin. "Harry, you were the bloody conductor of this train wreck. Don't act all innocent now—I saw the look in your eyes. You loved every second of it."

He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it again, because—well, she wasn't wrong. "Fine," he muttered, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe I did. A little."

"A little?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she finally started cleaning herself up for real. She swiped at her face with the back of her hand, smearing the last of the mess across her cheek before wiping it on her already-ruined top. "You were practically drooling, Potter. Don't think I didn't notice where your eyes kept wandering."

Harry's face went red, but he didn't back down. "Can you blame me? Look at you! You're a bloody walking distraction. Those—" He gestured vaguely at her chest, then caught himself and coughed. "I mean, uh, it's hard not to look."

Tonks grinned, clearly delighted by his flustered state. "Oh, go on, say it. You were staring at my tits like they were the Holy Grail. It's fine—I'm flattered, really." She gave a little shimmy, making them bounce just enough to send his brain spiraling again, and laughed when his eyes widened. "See? Still got it."

"You're gonna kill me," he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I'm too young to die like this, Nym."

"Pfft, you'll survive," she teased, pushing herself up to her knees again. She wobbled slightly, her legs clearly still numb from being on the floor so long, and Harry reached out instinctively to steady her. His hands landed on her shoulders, and she smirked up at him, close enough now that he could feel the warmth radiating off her. "Careful, hero. Touching me might get you all worked up again."

"Too late for that," he muttered, his voice low as his thumbs brushed against her collarbone. Her skin was soft, still a little sticky, and he couldn't help but linger there for a second longer than necessary. "You're a menace."

"And you love it," she shot back, patting his chest with both hands before stepping back. She stretched her arms over her head, giving him yet another eyeful as her top rode up just enough to show a sliver of her stomach. "Right, I'm gonna go clean up properly. This—" She gestured at herself, from her smeared face to her soaked top—"is a bit much, even for me."

Harry nodded dumbly, still half-dazed as he watched her turn toward the hallway. "Yeah, uh, good idea. I'll… fix this." He waved a hand at the general state of the room, though he wasn't entirely sure where to start. The couch cushions were askew, there was a suspicious wet spot on the carpet, and he was pretty sure his dignity was still lying somewhere on the floor.

Tonks paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder with a grin. "Don't take too long, yeah? We've still got half a movie to watch, and I'm not letting you off the hook that easy." She bounced on her toes for a second, just enough to make her chest jiggle again, and laughed at the strangled noise he made. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" he croaked, already bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

She winked. "Next time, try not to make such a mess. Or do—I kinda like it." With that, she sauntered off, knowing his eyes immediately followed her on the way out. Feeling mischievous, she put an extra sway to her perky rear, aware of his eyes following the alluring movement. It sent a tingle of pleasure through her.

Meanwhile, Harry just stood there, red-faced and grinning like an idiot, wondering how the hell he was supposed to survive her.

Closing the bathroom door behind her with a soft click, Tonks leaned heavily against the sink, her hands gripping the cool porcelain as she exhaled a long, shaky breath. Her hair, which had been a wild kaleidoscope of colors—vibrant pinks, electric blues, fiery reds—while she'd been licking Harry's cum off her face and neck, slowly settled back into its natural midnight black.

The shift happened almost unconsciously, her metamorphmagus abilities calming down now that the heat of the moment had passed. She stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection a little blurry around the edges from the steam still clinging to the glass, and tried to piece together what she must've looked like out there.

Her face streaked with thick, white trails of his release, some of it still dripping lazily down her cheek and pooling at the base of her throat before sliding further to her chest. Her top—Merlin, that poor, flimsy thing—was soaked through, sticking to her skin like it'd been glued there, the fabric clinging to every curve of her breasts and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

A slow, crooked grin crept onto her face as she took it all in. She looked wrecked. And she kind of loved it.

What had just happened out there in the Dursleys' stuffy living room wasn't just some impulsive, messy prelude to a hookup. It was more than that—bigger and deeper, like a spark that had ignited something she hadn't even known was waiting to catch fire.

She tilted her head, studying her reflection, and let her mind wander back to Harry's face—his ragged breathing, the way his green eyes had locked onto her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. It wasn't just lust she'd seen there, though Merlin knew there'd been plenty of that. There was something else, something raw and real that made her chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to.

Tonks had always been the odd one out, even among witches and wizards. Being a metamorphmagus wasn't exactly a common party trick—it made her stand out, sure, but not always in a good way. Growing up, she'd been a curiosity, a spectacle. People gawked at her shifting hair, her ability to tweak her nose or stretch her ears on a whim. Men, especially, had been drawn to it—they loved the idea of a woman who could morph into their wildest fantasies without breaking a sweat.

She'd had no shortage of suitors, idiots who'd leer and make suggestive comments about what she could do for them with a little magic. But that's all they'd ever been: idiots. Shallow, horny prats who saw her as a toy, not a person. So she'd brushed them off, rolled her eyes, and kept her distance. It'd been easier that way.

Harry, though—he was different. He didn't gape at her like she was some circus act. He didn't ask her to change her hair to green or make her eyes sparkle just for a laugh. When he looked at her, it wasn't about the tricks she could pull or the faces she could wear.

He saw her as just Tonks, or Nym, as he called her—the clumsy, sarcastic Auror with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. Not the metamorphmagus, not the Order member, not the quirky shield she threw up to keep people at arm's length. Just… her. And that hit her harder than she'd expected.

She shifted her weight, leaning closer to the mirror until her breath fogged the glass. There was something in the way Harry watched her—something unguarded. There was something raw and honest in his gaze. He didn't look at her like she was a novelty or a magical curiosity. He looked at her like she was real, substantial, and meaningful. A normal person. He saw her as a true friend, and it was refreshing in a way that made her heart race and her thoughts tumble.

It wasn't just physical, though she'd be lying if she said that wasn't part of it. She'd caught him staring plenty of times, his eyes lingering on her curves, her legs, the way her hips swayed when she walked. And yeah, she'd snuck her fair share of looks too. He might be younger than her, but he was of age now—fair game, as far as she was concerned. Those broad shoulders, that messy black hair, the way his voice had started to deepen into something that sent little shivers down her spine—he was growing into himself, and she'd be damned if she didn't notice.

But it wasn't just about that. It was Harry himself—everything he was, everything he'd been through. She'd heard the stories, pieced together the jagged edges of his life from Sirius, from Ron and Hermione and Ginny, from hushed conversations at Grimmauld Place over the past few weeks.

The Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, that bloody Basilisk, the Dementors that at one point seemed to haunt his very step, the Triwizard Tournament, and then Voldemort—always Voldemort—using him like a pawn in some twisted game.

The weight of it all should've crushed him, turned him bitter or broken. But it hadn't. He was still Harry—still capable of cracking a joke, of caring about people, of looking at her with that wide-eyed wonder even after everything he'd seen. That resilience, that stubborn spark of goodness—it drew her in like a moth to a flame.

This whole thing had started as a job. Guarding Harry, keeping him safe from whatever fresh hell the Death Eaters might throw his way—it was an Order assignment, plain and simple. She'd approached it with her usual mix of professionalism and dry humor, ready to play the part of the tough Auror babysitter.

But somewhere along the line, it'd shifted. Her instincts to protect him had tangled up with something more personal, something she couldn't quite name yet. She didn't just want to keep him alive—she wanted to help him live.

He'd been a weapon, a symbol, a scapegoat for so long that he'd barely had a chance to figure out who he was underneath it all. She knew what that felt like, being defined by what you could do instead of who you were. And she wanted to change that for him.

Tonks straightened up, running a hand through her dark hair as she let out a soft, thoughtful hum.

The physical pull between them was obvious—electric, even. She could still feel the heat of his gaze on her skin, the way his hands had trembled when they'd brushed her shoulders out there. He was growing into a man, his body lean and strong from years of dodging curses and Quidditch dives, his eyes carrying a depth that made her want to dive in and never come up for air. But it was more than that.

It was his heart—his stupid, stubborn, endlessly compassionate heart—that got to her. He'd been through hell, and he still cared. Still laughed. Still looked at her like she was something worth seeing.

She wanted him. Not just his body—though Merlin, she wouldn't say no to that—but all of him. His potential, his fire, his future. She'd always been a Hufflepuff at heart, loyal and fierce, but her mum had been a Slytherin, and that cunning streak ran deep.

Tonks knew how to spot an opportunity, and Harry was one she wasn't about to let slip through her fingers. She'd claim him—whatever that meant—before anyone else could.

With a quick twist, she splashed cold water on her face, washing away the last sticky traces of him. The chill snapped her out of her haze, cooling the flush that had crept up her neck as her thoughts spiraled. She'd been getting all hot and bothered just thinking about him, and she'd bet her last galleon he was out there in the same state.

Another charm dried her top—or what was left of it—leaving it slightly less wrecked but still clinging to her in a way she knew would drive him up the wall. Good. Let him squirm a little.

She grinned at her reflection, her dark purple eyes glinting with mischief. Harry liked her like this—plain old Nym, no fancy colors or tricks, just a sharp-tongued woman with midnight black hair and a wicked smile. And that's how she'd stay for him. No masks, no games—just her.

What was brewing between them wasn't simple. It wasn't just attraction or lust or even friendship. It was something bigger, something that felt like it could stretch beyond the physical, beyond magic itself. A connection—real and rare and a little terrifying. She could feel it in her bones, and it made her heart thud harder than any mission ever had.

Staring at herself, she felt a flicker of nerves creep in. For all her bravado, this was uncharted territory. What if she messed it up? What if she pushed too hard, or not enough, or—Merlin forbid—scared him off?

She shook her head, smacking her cheeks twice with both hands.

"Focus, Nym," she muttered under her breath. "You've got this. You're a bloody badass. He's not going anywhere."

She nodded at her reflection, her grin returning full force. She had it in the bag. Yeah. She totally did. With one last glance in the mirror, she turned and headed back out, ready to see just how far this night could take them.

The summer had been a slow, suffocating descent into hell.

Trapped at Privet Drive, Harry felt like a caged animal, cut off from everything that mattered—the wizarding world, his friends, and any shred of news about what was brewing out there.

It was just him, the four walls of his tiny bedroom, and the relentless churn of his own thoughts. No meaningful letters from Ron or Hermione, no updates from the Order that he'd come to know about, not even a whisper about Voldemort's next move. Nothing. The silence was deafening, a void that swallowed him whole and left him drowning in his own head.

The Dursleys didn't help—Vernon's sneers were sharper, Petunia's cold shoulders frostier, and Dudley's smug avoidance more pointed than ever. They treated him like a stain they couldn't scrub out, a constant reminder of the freakishness they despised.

Each day bled into the next, an endless loop of suburban monotony—mowing the lawn, washing dishes, staring at the ceiling—while the magic inside him simmered, stifled, with nowhere to go. He was a prisoner in a house that wasn't a home, haunted by memories he couldn't shake: the graveyard, the ghastly ritual, Voldemort's high, cold laugh as he rose from that cauldron, and the torture. Those images clung to him, replaying on a loop every time he closed his eyes, gnawing at his sanity.

And then Nym crashed into his life like a bloody firework.

She was everything Privet Drive wasn't—vibrant, chaotic, alive. Her arrival was like someone had ripped open the curtains and let sunlight flood into a room that'd been dark for months.

It wasn't just that she was a connection to the wizarding world, though that alone would've been enough to make him cling to her presence. It was more than that. She saw him—really saw him—in a way no one else had bothered to all summer. Not as the Boy Who Lived, not as some fragile kid to be sheltered, not as a weapon or a burden or a name at the top of a deranged mass murderer's hit list.

She looked at him like he was Harry—just Harry—a person with a pulse, with fears and wants and a voice that deserved to be heard. After weeks of being invisible, of fading into the background of the Dursleys' pristine little nightmare, that kind of recognition hit him like a shot of firewhisky straight to the chest.

Sure, the physical attraction was there—how could it not be? She was all sharp edges and soft curves, with that wild energy that made his stomach flip every time she smirked at him. Her striking beauty, her laugh, her confidence visible in the way she moved like she owned every room she walked into—it was impossible not to notice.

But that was just the surface. Underneath it, there was something deeper, something that hooked into him and wouldn't let go. Nym was a lifeline, a tether to the world he'd been cut off from, a reminder that he wasn't losing his mind, that the horrors he'd seen were real and not just nightmares twisting in his skull.

Where Dumbledore had left him in the dark, where Ron and Hermione's silence had stung like betrayal, Nym was an open door. She didn't coddle him or feed him vague platitudes. She talked to him like he could handle it, like he wasn't some kid who needed protecting from the truth.

That alone was intoxicating. He'd spent the summer stewing in fury—fury at Dumbledore for shutting him out, at the so-called Order for treating him like a liability, at his friends for abandoning him to this purgatory with no explanation. The lack of information had been a slow torture, each day piling on more frustration, more powerlessness.

He'd wanted to scream, to break something, to demand answers about Voldemort, about the war he knew was coming. But all he'd gotten was silence, and it'd festered inside him like a wound.

Nym changed that. She was his window to the world beyond these suffocating walls, a bridge between the isolation of Privet Drive and the chaos he knew was waiting for him.

There was something about her that felt… free. She moved like she didn't give a damn what anyone thought, all loose-limbed confidence and quick grins. Her metamorphmagus tricks weren't just cool—they were a middle finger to anyone who tried to pin her down. She could change her hair to purple, her nose to a pig's snout, her eyes to gold, and laugh while doing it.

It was more than magic—it was a kind of strength Harry envied, a refusal to be trapped by what the world threw at you. He'd been stuck in this house, in this life, defined by a scar and a target on his head he hadn't asked for, and here she was, remaking herself every day like it was nothing.

He craved that—craved the ability to shift, to adapt, to break free of the chains that his circumstances had wrapped around him. Nym embodied it, and being near her made him feel like maybe he could grab a piece of that freedom for himself.

What had just happened between them—Merlin, that messy, mind-blowing moment in the living room—wasn't just about the heat of it, though his pulse was still racing from the memory of her on her knees, her eyes locked on his.

It was bigger than that.

It was a collision of two people who got it—who knew what it was like to be different, to be underestimated, to feel alone even when surrounded by others. She understood isolation in a way he hadn't expected, and that connection crackled between them like static.

When she'd walked into his life, barging through the front door with her clumsy grace and her sharp tongue, something in him had shifted. The anger that'd been choking him all summer didn't vanish, but it cracked open, letting something else seep in—something alive, something hopeful.

He wasn't blind to the complications.

There was an age gap, yeah—six years, give or take—and he knew people would raise eyebrows, call it improper, maybe even reckless.

Part of him wondered if he was latching onto her because she was here, because she was the first person to treat him like he mattered in months. Was he using her as an escape?

Maybe.

Probably.

But it didn't feel cheap or shallow. It felt real—dangerous and messy and thrilling in a way that made his blood hum. After weeks of being ignored, of being handled like a child who couldn't handle the truth, Nym was a jolt to the system. She didn't talk down to him. She didn't hide things. She treated him like an equal, like a man, and fuck if that didn't light something up inside him.

That moment they'd shared—it was a lifeline, a gasp of air after being underwater too long.

For the first time in weeks, he felt something other than the slow burn of resentment. Desire, yeah—hot and sharp and indisputable—but also something softer, something that scared him a little. He liked her. Really liked her. Not just her body or her magic or the way she teased him until he couldn't think straight, but her—the way she saw him, the way she made him feel like he wasn't alone in this.

And now he knew she liked him back. That smirk, the way she'd looked at him while licking her fingers clean—it wasn't just a game. There was something there, something mutual, and it set his nerves on fire.

He wanted more. More of her, more of this, more of whatever they could carve out together. It was unexpected, yeah—he hadn't planned on falling into… whatever this was—but now that it'd happened, he couldn't unfeel it.

He was brought out of his thoughts when she stepped back into the living room. When he looked up and saw her, his breath hitched.

She'd scrubbed her face clean, the sticky evidence of their earlier chaos gone, and her top—still a little damp but less of a disaster—clung to her in a way that wasn't exactly subtle. Her midnight-black hair hung loose, framing her face, and her dark purple eyes glinted with that same mischief she'd left with. She paused in the doorway, one hand on her hip, taking in the sight of him.

His green eyes widened, darting from her face to her chest—lingering there a second too long—before snapping back up. He closed his eyes for a moment and he coughed, shifting like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Merlin, Nym," he said, voice a little rough. "You look… uh, better. Cleaner, I mean."

She smirked, sauntering over with that easy, swaying stride that made his stomach flip.

"Cleaner, huh? High praise. You're really laying on the charm tonight."

She plopped down beside him on the couch, close enough that her knee brushed his thigh, and stretched her arms along the backrest. Her top shifted with the movement, pulling tight across her chest, and Harry's eyes flicked down again before he forced them back to her face.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm still recovering from—you know. Words aren't exactly my strong suit right now."

"Oh, I think you did just fine earlier. Didn't need words then, did you?" She nudged him with her elbow, grinning as he flushed slightly. "Relax, Harry. I'm not gonna bite. Unless you ask nicely."

He groaned, dropping his head back against the couch, but there was a grin tugging at his lips. "You're impossible. You know that, right?"

"Yep," she said cheerfully, leaning in a little closer. "And you're stuck with me, so deal with it." Her tone was light, but her eyes held his for a beat longer, something softer flickering there before she pulled back. She kicked her legs up, resting her legs on the coffee table—probably a cardinal sin in Petunia's book—and grabbed the remote from the armrest. "Right, movie's still on the table. You ready to behave, or should I brace myself for round two?"

He knew it was risky, pushing boundaries he wasn't sure he should cross, but he didn't care.

The thrill of it, the way it made his heart pound and his head spin—he loved it. He liked her, he desired her, and damn it, he wanted her in every way he could have her.

Whether it led somewhere or crashed and burned, he was in—fully, recklessly, unapologetically in. For once, he wasn't going to let fear or rules or anyone else dictate what came next. This was his, and he was going to chase it.

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Chapter Text

Harry sank back into the couch, the cushions still a little lopsided from the earlier chaos, and grabbed the remote from where Tonks had tossed it. His heart was still thudding, feeling like a wild rhythm that hadn't quite settled, but he forced his voice to stay steady.

"Right, movie. Let's… get back to it, yeah?"

Tonks grinned, and that wicked little curve of her lips made his stomach flip. She slid closer to him.

"Sounds good, hero. Don't want Petunia's precious telly going to waste."

She hitched one leg up on the coffee table again, her knee brushing his thigh, and settled in like she owned the place. Which, in a way, she kind of did—at least in his head.

He clicked play, the screen flickering back to life with the same muggle action flick—explosions, car chases, the usual noise. But it was just background static to him now.

Tonks was warm against his side, her shoulder pressing into his, and without thinking too hard about it, he draped his arm over her shoulders. She didn't pull away—instead, she leaned into him, her head tilting just enough to rest against his chest. Her hair, still that midnight black, tickled his neck, and he caught a faint whiff of something sweet, maybe her shampoo. It made his head spin a little.

Merlin, she's close, he thought, his pulse kicking up again. This is… normal, right? Just watching a movie. Except it's her, and I can still see her on her knees in my head, and—bloody hell, focus, Potter!

He wanted to be cool about this, casual, like he wasn't a mess of nerves and want under the surface. But she felt so good pressed against him, soft and solid all at once, and it was scrambling his brain.

Tonks shifted, her hand resting lightly on his knee, and her fingers tapping a lazy rhythm.

He's warm, she thought, a little thrill running through her. And that arm around me—yeah, he's feeling it too. Good. Let's see how far he'll take this.

She wasn't about to push him outright—not yet. She liked this game, the slow burn of it, watching him figure out what he wanted and go for it. Her skin tingled where his arm rested, and she let her body relax into him more, giving him that subtle green light.

The movie droned on—some guy yelling about a bomb—but Harry's focus was slipping. His hand, dangling over her shoulder, brushed against her upper chest, just above the curve of her breast. He froze for a second, waiting for her to shove him off or laugh it away. She didn't. Instead, she arched her back a tiny bit, pressing herself closer, her chest rising with a slow breath that made his fingers graze her skin again.

She's not stopping me, he realized, a rush of heat flooding his chest. She… wants this?

His mind raced, torn between nerves and a growing boldness he didn't know he had. He let his hand slide lower, tentative at first, until it rested fully on her upper chest, his palm feeling the soft swell beneath her slightly damp top. His throat went dry. This is insane. I'm touching her, and she's not hexing me into next week.

In the state he was in, the thought that she'd just given him his first and the best blowjob ever didn't even register. Touching her seemed rather tame in comparison, not that he was thinking clearly to realize that.

Meanwhile, Tonks bit her lip, keeping her eyes on the screen like nothing was happening.

Oh, he's going for it, she thought, a spark of delight igniting in her gut. Good boy, Harry.

She shifted again, just enough to press her breast more firmly into his hand, a quiet invitation that was clear as the summer night sky outside. Her heart was pounding now, but she kept her cool, letting him take the lead. She loved this—his hesitation, his excitement, the way he was testing the waters. It was hot, and it made her want to see how much further he'd go.

Harry's breath hitched, but he didn't pull back. Her warmth under his palm, the way she leaned into him—it was like a signal, loud and clear. He moved his hand lower, cupping her breast over her top, the fabric still clinging to her skin. It was soft, heavy in his hand, and he couldn't believe this was real.

She feels amazing, he thought, his head buzzing. I've never… bloody hell, this is my first time doing anything like this.

He squeezed gently, testing, and her lack of protest sent a jolt through him. His fingers flexed, exploring the shape of her, and he felt himself harden again, a mix of nerves and raw want driving him.

Tonks let out a soft hum, the sound barely audible over the movie, but it was enough to make his ears burn.

He's getting bold, she thought, heat pooling low in her belly. That squeeze—Merlin, he's got good instincts.

She tilted her head slightly, letting her hair fall across his arm, and parted her thighs just a fraction—not enough to be obvious, but enough to nudge him along. She wanted his hands everywhere, but she'd let him figure that out himself. The slow build was killing her in the best way.

The movie was a blur now, just colors and noise. Harry's world had narrowed to her—the weight of her breast in his hand, the way it filled his palm, the softness as he touched her. It was unbelievable.

He squeezed again, firmer this time, and his thumb brushed over where he guessed her nipple might be. The fabric was in the way, but he could feel it harden under his touch, and it made his head spin.

She likes this, he thought, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself. I'm doing this right, aren't I?

He slid his hand lower, his fingers slipping under the edge of her top, pushing her bra down with a clumsy but determined move. His palm met bare skin—soft, warm, and so real it made his breath catch.

Tonks' eyes fluttered half-closed, but she kept them on the screen, playing the part.

Oh, fuck yes, she thought, a shiver running down her spine as his hand found her bare breast. He's in now—skin on skin. That's it, Harry.

Her nipple tightened under his touch, and she arched into him again, subtle but intentional, urging him to keep going. The heat of his hand, the slight roughness of his Quidditch-calloused fingers—it was driving her wild, and she loved how he was losing himself in it.

Harry's heart was hammering so loud he was sure she could hear it. Her breast was bare under his hand now, soft and full, her nipple a hard little peak against his palm. He squeezed again, marveling at how it felt, then let his fingers explore—tracing the curve, rolling her nipple between his thumb and finger, and fondling her.

This is unreal, he thought, half-dazed. She's letting me do this, and it's… perfect.

He pinched lightly, testing her reaction, and the way her breath hitched sent a surge of confidence through him.

His other hand, resting on his own leg, twitched. He glanced at her thighs—bare under her shorts, close enough to touch.

Go for it, he told himself, nerves warring with excitement. He slid his hand over, starting at her knee, then up to her thigh, his fingers brushing her skin. It was smooth, warm, and he kept going, inching toward her inner thigh, his pulse racing.

Tonks parted her legs a little more, giving him room.

Yes, there you go, she thought, her body humming with anticipation. Keep going, Harry. You've got me hooked.

His touch was light but sure, and it sent a thrill straight to her core. She shifted her hips slightly, angling toward him, letting him know she was all in. Her breast tingled under his other hand, and she had to fight to keep her breathing steady.

Harry's fingers crept higher, slipping under the hem of her shorts. His hand trembled a little—this was new territory, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. But she wasn't stopping him, and that was enough. He pushed further, finding the edge of her knickers, and then—Merlin's beard—his fingers brushed against her bare pussy for the first time.

She was warm, wet, and so soft it made his head spin.

She's… she's so much into this!? He thought, a mix of awe and arousal flooding him. He might be a virgin, but he'd heard his fair share of tales from the blokes around him, a few of whom had been quite descriptive and dare he say, crude. But now, he could recall every word with crystal clarity, and one thing was for sure. Finnegan was not crude enough.

He slid his fingers along her, exploring the outer edges of her pussy, feeling her slickness coat his fingers.

Tonks' breath caught, a quiet sound she couldn't hold back. Her eyes widened just a fraction at his daring touch—quicker than she'd expected. She thought he'd play around a bit more, but she couldn't complain, not when it felt so good.

Fuck, he's there, she thought, her mind going hazy. His fingers—right where I want them.

It felt electric, his tentative touch igniting her nerves. She shifted her hips again, pressing into his hand, and reached over with her own, finding the bulge in his shorts. Her fingers curled around him through the fabric, stroking slowly, matching his rhythm.

Let's see how he likes this, she thought, smirking inwardly.

Harry nearly jolted off the couch when she touched him.

Oh, bloody hell, he thought, his hips twitching into her hand. She's… she's doing it back.

Her fingers were firm, teasing, and it sent a wave of heat through him. He pushed his fingers deeper, slipping inside her knickers fully, and found her entrance. She was so wet, so warm, and he pressed in, feeling her tighten around him.

This is… I can't even think, he thought, lost in the sensation. He moved his fingers, slow and careful, wanting to make it good for her.

Tonks' thighs tensed, her body responding to every move he made.

He's inside me, she thought, a rush of pleasure making her dizzy. First time, and he's already got me shaking.

She squeezed him harder through his shorts, her thumb brushing the tip, feeling him throb under her touch. Her other hand stayed still, gripping the couch, anchoring her as she let herself sink into this. It was messy, raw, and perfect—exactly how she liked it.

Harry's world was a haze of her—her breast in one hand, her nipple between his fingers, his other hand buried in her shorts, feeling her pulse around him. Her hand on him was driving him mad, and he didn't know how much longer he could last.

This is everything, he thought, his chest tight with want and something deeper. She's everything. He kept going, bolder now, lost in her and the way she made him feel alive.

Her thighs tightened around his hand, her hips starting to move. She rocked back against his fingers, slow at first, then harder, chasing the heat building inside her. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, muffled against his neck as she tilted her head and caught his lips in a wet kiss. It was messy, hungry—teeth clashing, tongues sliding together, all heat and want. Harry groaned into her mouth, his fingers curling inside her, feeling her slick walls pulse around him.

She's… she's humping me, he thought, his head spinning. This is insane. She's so wet, so hot—Merlin, I can't think straight.

Tonks pressed herself closer, her chest heaving against his hand still palming her breast. Fuck, he's too good at this, she thought, her mind hazy with arousal. Those fingers—right there, yeah.

She ground down harder, her hips rolling in tight little circles, and her tongue tangling with his. The kiss deepened, wet and desperate, and she could feel herself climbing higher, her body trembling with every thrust against his hand. Her hand on his shorts squeezed him tighter, stroking him through the fabric, matching the rhythm.

They stayed like that for what felt like forever—lips locked, bodies moving together, the movie a distant hum. Harry's free hand gripped her thigh, keeping her in place as she rode his fingers, and he kissed her back with everything he had, lost in the taste of her, the feel of her. His head was a mess of want and wonder, every little sound she made driving him wild.

She's gonna come like this, he realized, a thrill shooting through him. I'm doing that to her.

But then, just as her breathing hitched and her movements got frantic, Tonks pulled back. She grabbed his wrist, stilling his hand, and broke the kiss with a shaky exhale.

Harry blinked, confusion clouding his lust-addled brain.

"Nym? What—" he started, his voice rough, but the words died when she slid off the couch and dropped to her knees in front of him again.

His confusion vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a surge of anticipation.

Oh, bloody hell, she's not stopping, he thought, his pulse racing as she reached for his shorts. He lifted his hips without a second thought, letting her tug them down. His cock sprang free, hard and aching, and Tonks grinned up at him, her dark purple eyes glinting with mischief. She wrapped her hand around him, stroking firmly, her grip warm and sure as it had been before.

Harry's head fell back against the couch, a low groan escaping him.

She's gonna blow me again, he thought, already imagining her lips wrapped around his girth. I'm not gonna survive this.

But Tonks had other plans. She let go of him just long enough to shimmy out of her shorts and knickers, kicking them aside in a quick, fluid move. Harry's jaw dropped as she climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist, her bare thighs pressing against his hips. The heat from her gushing pussy hovered over him, close enough that he could feel it, and his hands instinctively grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin.

She's naked down there, he thought, his mouth dry. This is… this is happening.

Tonks leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest through her top, and her voice came out low and sultry.

"Thought I'd switch things up, yeah? You're doing so good, Harry—driving me bloody wild. How's this feel so far?"

She rolled her hips, grinding her slick folds against his cock, coating him in her wetness. The sensation was electric, hot and slippery, and Harry's breath caught in his throat.

"F-feels amazing," he managed, his voice cracking as he stared up at her. "Nym, you're… Merlin, you're killing me here!"

His hands slid up her sides, brushing the hem of her top, and he couldn't help but glance down at her large tits, still covered but straining against the layers of fabric.

Tonks giggled, and the throaty sound sent a shiver down his spine.

"Eyes up here, mister—or, well, maybe not."

She grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and tugged it up, her fingers grazing his stomach.

"Lose this, yeah? I wanna see you too."

Her tone was teasing, but there was a sensual edge to it that made his blood pound.

Harry didn't hesitate. He yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch, and his eyes flicked back to her chest.

"Your turn," he said, feeling much bolder now, his hands itching to touch her. "C'mon, Nym—let me see you. It's only fair."

She smirked, leaning back just enough to give him room.

"Oh, you're eager now, huh? Alright, go for it."

Her voice was a purr, daring him, and Harry's hands were on her in an instant. He pulled her top up and off, revealing her bra—black, simple, but barely containing her. His fingers fumbled with the clasp for a second before he got it undone, sliding the straps down her arms. When it fell away, he just stared.

Her breasts were perfect—full, round, with puffy pink nipples that tightened under his gaze. They swayed slightly as she shifted, and Harry's mouth watered.

She's gorgeous, he thought, a mix of awe and hunger flooding him. I've never seen anything like this.

He didn't think—he just acted, leaning forward and burying his face in her chest, his lips closing around one nipple while his hand cupped the other.

Tonks giggled at first, the sound bright and playful.

"Easy, there—oh, fuck," she gasped as he sucked harder, his tongue flicking over her.

He's all in now, she thought, heat pooling between her legs as she rolled her hips again, sliding her wet folds along his cock. That mouth—Merlin, he's way too good.

She arched into him, her hands tangling in his messy hair, urging him on as pleasure sparked through her.

Harry was ravenous, lost in her. He sucked and licked, switching between her breasts, his hands squeezing and kneading wherever his mouth wasn't. Her skin was soft, warm, and the little moans she let slip made his cock twitch against her.

She tastes so good, he thought, his head buzzing. And she's grinding on me—fuck, I can feel her dripping.

Her juices coated him, slick and hot, and every roll of her hips pushed him closer to the edge.

Tonks' giggles faded into breathy sighs, her body moving faster now, humping herself against him with purpose.

He's got me soaked, she thought, her nerves tingling. Those hands, that mouth—fuck, I'm losing it.

She could feel him throbbing beneath her, hard and ready, and it only made her wetter, her arousal smearing across his length as she slid over him.

Finally, Harry pulled back, his lips red and glistening, and his green eyes dark with want. Tonks leaned forward, pressing her naked body against his, her breasts flattening against his chest. Their skin stuck together, warm and sweaty, and she rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling.

"You're driving me mad, you know that?" she murmured, her voice low and thick. "All this teasing—I want you, Harry. Inside me. You ready for that?"

Harry's heart slammed against his ribs, his hands gripping her hips tighter.

"Yeah," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Fuck, Nym, I want you so bad. This is... fuck, this is better than anything I've ever felt!"

His cock ached, pressed against her slick heat, and the thought of being inside her made his head spin.

This is it, he thought, excitement and nerves crashing together. She wants me too.

Tonks grinned, that wicked, lecherous smirk he loved, and shifted her hips. She reached down, her fingers wrapping around him, and aligned him with her entrance. Her wetness kissed the tip of him, and she paused there, drawing it out, letting him feel it.

"Here we go, Harry," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. They were clouded with lust and want as she sank down, slow and sensual, taking him inside her inch by inch.

Harry's breath hitched, a low groan tearing from his throat as her heat enveloped him. She was tight, wet, and so warm it made his toes curl.

Oh, fuck, she's… she's around me, he thought, his mind blanking out. This is—Merlin, it's everything.

He watched her face, the way her lips parted, her eyes fluttering half-closed as she took him deeper, and it was the hottest thing ever.

Tonks bit her lip, a soft moan slipping out as she settled fully onto him, his cock buried to the hilt. The first cock she'd ever taken inside her, and what a choice it was.

He's so big, she thought, a shiver running through her. Fills me up just right—fuck, this feels good. Much, much better than my wand or that toy Hestia got me.

She rocked her hips once, testing, and the friction sent a jolt of pleasure up her spine. Her hands slid up his chest, nails dragging lightly, and she leaned in to kiss him again, slow and deep, tasting his desperation.

Harry's hands roamed her back, tracing her spine, then down to her arse, gripping her as she started to move.

She's riding me, he thought, dazed and delirious. I'm inside her, and she's… she's perfect.

Every shift of her hips, every clench of her pussy walls around him, pushed him closer to losing it. He kissed her back, hard and needy, pouring everything he felt into it—want, gratitude, and something bigger he couldn't name yet.

Tonks pulled back just enough to grin down at him, her hair falling around her face like a dark curtain.

"You're mine now, yeah?" she teased, her voice husky as she rolled her hips again, slow and sensual. "No going back after this."

"No way," Harry shot back, his hands squeezing her arse, urging her to move faster. "You've got me, Nym. All yours."

His voice was raw, honest, and the look in her eyes—mischievous, warm, possessive—made his chest tighten in the best way.

She laughed softly, the sound vibrating through them both, and picked up the pace, her body moving with him in a rhythm that felt like it could last forever. The movie flickered on, ignored, as they lost themselves in each other, skin on skin, heat on heat, chasing something wild and real.

Tonks rocked her hips, slow and deep, her body clenching around Harry with every move. The sheer heat of her pussy around his cock, the slick slide of cock inside her pussy—it was overwhelming, and he couldn't keep quiet.

"Bloody hell, Nym," he groaned, his hands gripping her arse tighter. "You feel so good—how're you even real?"

She grinned down at him, her dark purple eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "Oh, I'm real, alright, baby. Real and riding you like you're my favorite broomstick." She rolled her hips harder, a teasing lilt in her voice. "You holding up okay down there? Not gonna tap out on me, are you?"

Harry's laugh came out rough, half a moan. "Tap out? No chance. I could do this all night."

His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer so her breasts pressed hotly against his chest. "You're driving me mad, though—keep talking like that, and I might lose it."

"Lose it, huh?" Tonks nipped at his earlobe, her breath hot against his skin. "Go ahead, Harry—I wanna see you fall apart for me. Would be quite an achievement for me, if I got the Harry Potter to lose it."

She picked up the pace, her hips grinding down with purpose, her wetness coating him as she moved, slamming herself hard and fast against him. Every thrust sent a jolt through her, her nerves buzzing, and she could feel herself climbing higher.

He's so deep, she thought, a shiver running through her. Fuck, I'm close already.

Harry's head fell back against the couch, his breath ragged.

She's gonna kill me, he thought, his cock throbbing inside her. That voice, that body—Merlin, I'm done for.

He thrust up to meet her, clumsy but eager, and the way she gasped made his chest swell.

"You're close, aren't you?" he rasped, his hands roaming her sides. "I can feel it—c'mon, Nym, let me get you there."

Tonks smirked, her hands bracing on his shoulders as she rode him harder.

"Oh, you're cocky now, huh? Think you can finish me off?"

She clenched around him deliberately, drawing a choked sound from his throat.

"Keep moving like that, and you just might."

Her voice was breathy, teasing, but the heat in her eyes said she wasn't joking—she was right on the edge.

The couch creaked under them, the movie long forgotten, as they moved together—fast, desperate, chasing that peak. Harry's hands gripped her hips, guiding her, and he thrust up again, deeper this time, making her moan.

"Like that?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "Tell me what you want, Nym—I wanna make you feel good."

"Fuck, yes, like that," she moaned, her head tipping back as she ground down hard. "Just—keep going, Harry. You're perfect—don't stop."

Her thighs trembled, her body tightening around him, and she could feel it building, hot and urgent.

He's got me, she thought, half-dazed. Right there—fuck, I'm gonna come.

However, right before she tipped over, Tonks slowed, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She grinned down at him, a wicked and playful glint in her eyes.

"Hold up, Harry—let's switch it up. I've got an idea."

She slid off him, leaving him slick and aching, and Harry blinked up at her, dazed.

"Switch it up?" he croaked, his voice thick with want. "Nym, you're killing me here—what're we doing?"

She winked, grabbing his hand and tugging him up. "You'll see. Trust me, you're gonna love this."

She turned around, bending over the arm of the couch, her arse up and her legs spread just enough to give him a view that made his mouth go dry.

"C'mon, Harry—get behind me. Let's see what you've got."

Harry's brain short-circuited for a second, his eyes locked on her pussy—bare, glistening, pulsing red, and so eagerly waiting for him.

Bloody hell, she's… fucking perfect! He thought, a rush of heat flooding him. He scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over his own shorts still tangled around his ankles, and kicked them off completely.

"You sure?" he asked, stepping up behind her, his hands hovering over her hips. "I mean—fuck, Nym, you look amazing."

Tonks glanced back over her shoulder, her grin nothing but pure mischief.

"Sure? Harry, I'm begging you to fuck me like this. Get over here already." She wiggled her hips, teasing, and her voice dropped low. "C'mon, big guy—show me what those Quidditch muscles can do."

That was all he needed. Harry grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin, and lined himself up. He pushed in slow at first, savoring the way she stretched around him, hot and tight and perfect.

"Merlin's beard," he groaned, his head spinning as he sank deeper. "You're—so fucking tight like this."

Tonks moaned, her hands gripping the couch arm as he filled her.

"Yeah, that's it," she breathed, pushing back against him. "Fuck, Harry—harder, c'mon. I can take it."

Her voice was rough, needy, and it lit a fire in him.

He's hitting all the right spots, she thought, her body trembling. This angle—fuck, it's good.

Harry didn't hold back. He thrust into her, hard and deep, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Every move drew a sound from her—gasps, moans, little curses—and it drove him wild.

"Like that?" he panted, his hands sliding up to grip her waist. "Tell me, Nym—fuck, you feel incredible."

"Yes—yes, like that," she gasped, her back arching as he pounded into her. "You're—bloody brilliant, Harry—don't stop."

Her hips rocked back to meet him, matching his rhythm, and the pressure built fast, coiling tight in her core.

He's gonna make me come even harder like this, she thought, her mind hazy. Fuck, he's perfect.

They kept going, the couch shaking under them, until Tonks' legs started to wobble. She laughed breathlessly, pushing herself up as much as she could, and it was only Harry's tight hold on her that kept her upright.

"Okay, okay—new plan," she said, turning to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a wild mess, and she looked so damn hot it made his chest ache. "Lie back, yeah? Fully, not against the back of the couch. I wanna see your face properly when we finish this."

Harry didn't argue. He dropped onto the couch, sprawling out, his cock still hard and slick from her. "You're the boss," he said, grinning up at her, his voice rough but playful. "C'mon, Nym—ride me again. I wanna watch you."

Tonks climbed back onto his lap, straddling him, and grabbed his hands, placing them on her tits.

"Hold these for me, will you?" she teased, her grin wicked as she sank down onto him again. The stretch was just as good as before, and she moaned low in her throat. "Fuck, Harry—you're so deep like this."

Harry's hands squeezed her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples as she started to move. "You're gorgeous," he said, his voice thick with awe. "I can't—Merlin, I can't get enough of you."

He thrust up into her, meeting her halfway, and the way her eyes fluttered shut made his heart pound.

She's close again, he thought, a thrill shooting through him. I'm gonna get her there.

Tonks rolled her hips faster, her hands braced on his chest, nails digging in just enough to sting. "Yeah? You like watching me, huh?" she panted, her voice teasing but strained. "Keep looking, Harry—I'm—fuck, I'm so close." She clenched around him, tight and hot, and he could feel her trembling, right on the edge.

"Me too," he groaned, his hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her down harder. "Nym—c'mon, come with me. I wanna feel you."

His thrusts got erratic, desperate, and the heat in his gut was unbearable now, ready to snap.

Tonks' body seized up, her thighs clamping tight around his hips as she drove herself down one final time.

"Fuck—Harry—yes!" she cried out, her voice cracking into a raw, desperate scream that echoed off the Dursleys' pristine walls. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her slick walls spasming around him—hot, wet, and so tight it felt like she was pulling him deeper with every pulse. Her head snapped back, dark hair spilling wild and tangled over her shoulders, her mouth falling open in a perfect, gasping 'O' as her chest heaved. Her breasts bounced with the force of her shuddering release, full and flushed, nipples hard and dark pink against her pale skin, swaying in a rhythm that was pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

Harry couldn't look away—couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The sight of her unraveling above him was everything: her flushed cheeks, the sweat beading along her collarbone, the way her eyes squeezed shut as pleasure ripped through her. It was too much, too perfect, and it yanked him right to the brink. His hands dug into her hips, fingers sinking into her soft flesh, and he thrust up hard—once, twice—his cock buried to the hilt in her pulsing heat.

"Nym!" he choked out, the name tearing from his throat in a ragged, broken gasp as his own climax crashed over him. His whole body shook, muscles locking as he spilled inside her, thick and hot, each pulse wrenching a shudder from deep in his core. His vision blurred, his ears rang with the sound of her cries and his own pounding heartbeat, and he felt every inch of her clenching around him, milking him dry as waves of raw, electric bliss surged through him.

For a moment, they just stayed there, panting, her body slumped against his. Eventually, Tonks laughed, soft and breathless, and shifted to press herself fully against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss—deep, messy, all tongue and heat. Harry kissed her back just as hard, his hands roaming all over her back, sliding down to her arse, groping her shamelessly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against her lips as they pulled away, his voice wrecked. "That was—fuck, Nym, you're amazing."

She grinned into the kiss, her hands sliding down his chest, then up to tangle in his hair.

"You're not so bad yourself, Harry," she teased, nipping at his bottom lip. "Think you've got me hooked now."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders, possessive, and she pressed her breasts tighter against him, still catching her breath.

Harry's hands squeezed her arse, pulling her closer, his lips brushing hers as he spoke, "Good. 'Cause I'm not letting you go anywhere."

He kissed her again, slower this time, but no less hungry, his fingers tracing her curves like he couldn't get enough.

She's mine, he thought, a warm, fierce thing blooming in his chest. All mine.

Tonks hummed into the kiss, her body melting against his, her hands groping his back, his sides, anywhere she could reach.

"Deal," she whispered, her voice soft but sure, and they stayed locked together, kissing and touching and groping, lost in each other.

The world could go fuck itself for all they cared.

To be continued...

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Chapter Text

Tonks' body was still pressed tight against Harry's, her sweat-slick skin sticking to his as they sprawled on the couch. Her legs draped over his lap, one hand lazily tracing circles on his chest while the other tangled in his messy hair. The air was thick with the scent of them—sweat, arousal, and that faint sweet hint of her shampoo.

Harry's hands roamed her back, his fingers digging into her arse, pulling her closer as their lips met in another slow, hungry kiss. The movie was just white noise now, the explosions and shouting a distant hum compared to the soft gasps and murmurs filling the Dursleys' living room.

"Merlin, Harry," Tonks mumbled against his mouth, her voice low and rough. "You're gonna ruin me for anyone else, you know that?" She nipped his bottom lip, her fingers tightening in his hair. "That was… bloody intense."

Harry grinned, his hands squeezing her arse as he kissed her back, hard and needy. "Good. Don't want anyone else getting this." His voice was thick with a mix of post-orgasmic haze and raw desire. He slid one hand up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple that was still hard from earlier. "You're too much, Nym. I'm already hard again."

She laughed, the sound throaty and teasing, and shifted to straddle him properly, her bare pussy brushing his cock. "Oh, you're ready for round two, huh? Greedy." She rolled her hips, slow and teasing, coating him in her wetness again. "Fuck, you feel good. Got me all worked up still."

Harry groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she teased him. "You're one to talk. Look at you—fucking gorgeous and grinding on me like that." He leaned forward, catching her nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her gasp. "Keep that up, and I'm not gonna last long."

Tonks arched into him, her hands bracing on his shoulders. "Oh, don't you dare finish early," she teased, her voice breathy. "I want more of you, Harry. Wanna feel you lose it again." She rocked harder, her slick folds sliding along his length, and the heat of her wet pussy was driving him wild.

His hands roamed her body, one staying on her breast, squeezing and kneading, while the other slid down to her arse, guiding her movements. "You're killing me," he muttered, pulling back to look at her. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen from kissing, and those dark purple eyes were heavy with want. "Nym, I—fuck, I don't even know how to say this, but… what is this? Us?"

Tonks slowed her hips, her expression softening as she leaned in, resting her forehead against his. Her breath was warm against his lips, and she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing his cheeks. "Yeah, I was wondering when you'd ask that," she said, her voice quieter now, but still warm. "You're sweet, Harry. And this—this is fucking amazing. You feel it, don't you?"

Harry nodded, his heart pounding. "Yeah. It's… it's more than just this, isn't it?" He gestured vaguely at their naked bodies, his hands still on her. "I mean, I want this—fuck, I want you so bad—but I… I like you, Nym. A lot."

She smiled, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—hesitation, maybe. She kissed him softly, her lips lingering before she pulled back. "I like you too, Harry. A whole lot. You're… you're bloody special, you know that? Not just the Boy Who Lived crap—you. The way you look at me, the way you touch me. It's… it's fucking awesome."

His chest tightened, hope flaring as he searched her face. "So… what does that mean? Are we… together, or…?" He trailed off, nerves creeping in. He wanted her to say yes, wanted to call her his, but the way her smile faltered made his stomach twist.

Tonks sighed, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest. "Harry, I'm gonna be real with you. The Wizarding World's a mess right now—Voldemort's back, the Order's stretched thin, and I'm an Auror. My life's… it's chaos. I'm not in a place where I can do a proper relationship, you know? The whole dating, boyfriend-girlfriend thing—it's too much with everything going on."

Harry's heart sank, disappointment hitting him like a punch. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his face neutral. "Oh. Right. Yeah, that… that makes sense." His voice was quieter, and he looked down, his fingers loosening on her hips.

"Hey, hey, look at me," Tonks said, tilting his chin up. Her eyes were soft and earnest. "This doesn't mean I don't want you. Merlin, Harry, I want this—what we're doing right now. This heat, this… connection. I just can't do the big commitment thing. Not now. But I'm hoping… I'm hoping we can keep this going. You and me, sneaking around, having fun, making each other feel good. What do you think?"

Harry's disappointment lingered, but her words sparked something else—relief, maybe, and a flicker of excitement. She still wanted him, even if it wasn't the way he'd hoped. And the idea of keeping this going, of more nights like this, was enough to make his cock twitch against her.

"Yeah," he said, his voice steadier now. "I want that too. I get it, Nym. The world's fucked up, and… I just want you, however I can have you."

Her grin was back, wide and wicked. "That's my guy." She leaned in, kissing him hard, her tongue sliding against his as her hands gripped his shoulders. "You're stuck with me now, Harry. Hope you're not tired already, 'cause I'm nowhere near done with you."

Harry laughed, the sound muffled against her lips, and his hands tightened on her arse. "Tired? Not a chance." He grinned, feeling bold again, and in one quick move, he flipped them so she was sprawled beneath him on the couch, her legs spread wide. Her dark hair fanned out, and her breasts jiggled as she laughed, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Oh, you're playing dirty now," she teased, hooking her legs around his waist. "C'mon, Harry—show me what you've got."

He didn't need telling twice. He leaned down, peppering her neck with kisses, his lips trailing hot and wet along her skin. He nipped at her collarbone, then lower, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his hands roamed her body. One hand squeezed her other breast, his fingers rolling her nipple, while the other slid down to her pussy, his fingers brushing her slick folds. She was still so wet, so ready, and the feel of her made his cock throb.

"Fuck, Harry," Tonks gasped, her hips bucking into his hand. "You're—oh, Merlin, you're too good at this." Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing her nipple. "Keep going—don't you dare stop."

He grinned against her skin, switching to her other breast, lapping at her nipple while his fingers slipped inside her, curling just right. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and tight, and her moans were music to his ears.

"You like that, Nym?" he murmured, his voice rough as he kissed his way down her stomach, nipping at her skin. "Gonna make you scream again."

"Big talk," she panted, but her thighs trembled, spreading wider for him. "Prove it, Potter."

His fingers pumped faster, his thumb circling her clit, and she was writhing now, her hands gripping the couch cushions. He kissed lower, his lips brushing the soft skin of her inner thigh, and he could smell the sharp and intoxicating scent of her arousal. His cock ached, desperate to be inside her, but he wanted to drive her wild first.

Just as he positioned himself, ready to slide into her, a sharp glow and a low buzz cut through the haze. Tonks froze, her eyes snapping to the coffee table where her Auror medallion pulsed with red light.

"Fuck," she cursed, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Of all the bloody timing…"

Harry groaned, pulling back as she reached for the medallion. "Seriously? Now?" He sat back, his cock still hard and glistening, and ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with amusement. "Who's that?"

Tonks grabbed the medallion, her expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "It's Kingsley. My auror partner. Hang on." She swung her legs off the couch and stood, her naked body catching the dim light as she walked to the Dursleys' dining table. She leaned against it, her arse slightly raised, and tapped her wand against the medallion. A faint crackle filled the air, and Kingsley's deep voice came through.

"Tonks, where the hell are you? You were supposed to check in an hour ago."

Tonks rolled her eyes, but her voice was calm and professional. "Relax, Shack. I'm at Harry's place. His relatives are out, and I figured I'd keep him company tonight. It's important, yeah? He's been through enough."

Harry smirked, watching her from the couch. Her back was to him, her arse on full display, and an idea sparked in his wicked mind. He got up quietly, his cock still rock-hard, and moved behind her. Tonks was mid-sentence—"I'll be back by morning, don't worry"—when he pressed himself against her, his cock sliding between her thighs, brushing her pussy.

She let out a small squeak, her body tensing as her free hand gripped the table edge. Kingsley's voice crackled again. "What was that? You okay?"

Tonks cleared her throat, her voice a little strained. "Yeah, fine—just, uh, bumped the table. Clumsy me." She shot Harry a glare over her shoulder, but her lips twitched into a smirk, and her legs parted slightly, giving him room.

Harry grinned, his hands gripping her hips as he pushed into her, slow and deep. Her pussy was still so wet, so tight, and the way she clenched around him made his head spin. He started thrusting, gentle but steady, the table creaking softly under her weight.

Tonks bit her lip, trying to keep her voice steady as she answered Kingsley. "So, uh, any updates on the patrol schedule? I'm—fuck—I'm good for tomorrow night." Her thighs trembled, and she leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the table as Harry fucked her nice and slow from behind.

Kingsley's voice was all business. "We're doubling up on Knockturn Alley. Moody's got a lead on some Death Eater activity. You sure you're alright? You sound… off."

"I'm fine," Tonks said quickly, her voice hitching as Harry thrust deeper. "Just—shit—just tired, you know? Long day." She gripped the table harder, her knuckles white, and pushed back against Harry, matching his rhythm. Her pussy pulsed around him, and he could tell she was fighting to stay composed.

Harry leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. "You're doing great, Nym," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "Keep talking. Don't let him know I'm fucking you… Or do. Your choice." He picked up the pace, his hands sliding up to squeeze her breasts, pinching her nipples.

Tonks stifled a moan, disguising it as a cough. "Yeah, Shack, sounds good. I'll—oh, Merlin—I'll check in tomorrow." Her voice was shaky now, and she was panting, her body trembling as Harry's cock hit all the right spots. "Anything else?"

Kingsley paused, and Harry could almost hear the frown in his voice. "You sure you're okay? You're acting weird."

"Totally fine!" Tonks said, her voice too high-pitched. "Just—uh—Harry's got the telly on loud. Action movie. Explosions. You know." She shot Harry another look, half-glaring, half-begging, and he grinned, pulling out of her completely.

Before she could react, he dropped to his knees behind her, his hands spreading her thighs. Her pussy was glistening, swollen and red, and he didn't hesitate—he leaned in, his tongue lapping at her clit, slow and teasing.

Tonks gasped, her voice breaking as she tried to cover it with a laugh. "Fucking hell—uh, sorry, Kingsley, just… spilled my drink. Clumsy tonight." Her legs shook, and she leaned further over the table, her breasts flattening against the wood as Harry's tongue worked her over. He sucked her clit, then licked along her folds, tasting her arousal, and she was dripping, her juices coating his chin.

"Spilled your drink?" Kingsley sounded skeptical. "Tonks, what's going on over there?"

"Nothing!" she said, her voice cracking as Harry's fingers joined in, two sliding inside her while his tongue flicked her clit. "Just—shit—just keeping Harry company. We're good. All good." Her hips bucked, grinding against Harry's face, and she bit her lip hard to keep from moaning.

Harry's free hand gripped her thigh, holding her steady as he ate her out, his fingers pumping in and out, curling to hit that spot that made her shake. She was so wet, so responsive, and the thrill of her talking to Kingsley while he drove her wild was pushing her to the edge.

Tonks' voice was barely controlled now, her words rushed. "Okay, Kingsley, I gotta go—Harry needs me for… something. I'll check in tomorrow, yeah?" Her thighs clamped around Harry's head, and he could feel her getting close, her pussy tightening around his fingers.

"Alright," Kingsley said, sounding unconvinced. "Stay sharp, Tonks. And tell Potter to keep his head down."

"Will do!" she gasped, and the second the medallion's glow faded, she let out a scream, her body convulsing as a massive orgasm ripped through her.

"Fuck—Harry!"

Her pussy spasmed around his fingers, her clit pulsing against his tongue, and she collapsed onto the table, panting, her legs shaking. Her juices coated his hand, his face, and he lapped at her one last time, savoring her taste.

Harry stood slowly, wiping his chin with a grin as he pulled her up into his arms. Her body was limp, her chest heaving, and she looked at him with a mix of awe and exasperation. "You're fucking trouble," she panted, her voice wrecked. "Merlin's beard, Harry—eating me out while I'm on a call with my senior auror partner? You're gonna get me fired."

He laughed, carrying her back to the couch, his arms strong around her. "Worth it. You looked so hot trying to keep it together." He set her down, and she sprawled out, her legs falling open invitingly, her pussy still glistening and ready.

Tonks smirked, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Oh, you think you're done? C'mon, Harry—take me. I'm all yours." She spread her legs wider, her fingers trailing down to touch herself, teasing him.

Harry's cock twitched as he watched her part her folds, showing him her glistening pussy, and he didn't hesitate. He climbed over her, positioning himself between her thighs, and leaned down to kiss her, hard and hungry.

"You're gonna scream again," he promised, his voice rough as he lined himself up, ready to slide into her heat.

The movie blared on—some car chase now, tires screeching, guns firing—but it was just noise, drowned out by their heavy breathing and the electric tension between them. Tonks hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her nails digging into his shoulders.

"C'mon, Harry," she purred, her voice low and teasing, and her eyes glinting with mischief. "Fuck me like you mean it. I believe you said you're going to make me scream again?"

Harry groaned, her words sending a jolt straight to his cock. He pushed into her, hard and deep, her tight, wet heat enveloping him in one smooth thrust. "Fuck, Nym…"

Tonks moaned, her back arching off the couch as he filled her. "Oh, Merlin—yes, Harry, just like that!" Her hands slid down his back, her nails scraping lightly, urging him on. "Harder, c'mon—give it to me."

He didn't hold back. Harry plowed into her, fast and rough, the couch creaking under them with every thrust. Her pussy clenched around him, hot and slick, and the sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, raw and unfiltered and so unbelievably filthy. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, full and flushed, her nipples hard as he leaned down to suck one into his mouth, his teeth grazing her skin.

"Fuck, Harry!" Tonks gasped, her legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper. "You're—oh, shit, you're hitting it just right." Her hands gripped his arse, guiding his rhythm, and she rocked her hips up to meet him, matching his pace. "Don't stop—Merlin, don't you dare stop."

Harry's head was spinning, her moans and curses driving him wild. "Not stopping," he panted, his lips brushing her nipple before he kissed up to her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "You're so fucking tight, Nym—I can't get enough of you." He slammed into her harder, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

She laughed, the sound breathy and wrecked, and tangled her fingers in his hair. "Good," she teased, her voice hitching as he hit a spot that made her tremble. "You're—fuck, you're gonna make me come again. Keep going, Harry—make me lose it."

Her pussy pulsed around him, wetter with every thrust, and he could feel her getting close, her thighs shaking, and her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Harry's own climax was building, a tight coil in his gut, and he thrust deeper, faster, desperate to push her over the edge with him.

"C'mon, Nym," he growled, his voice rough. "Come for me—I wanna feel you."

Tonks' eyes fluttered shut, her mouth falling open as she arched into him.

"Harry—fuck, yes!" She cried out.

Her body tensed, her pussy clamping down hard around his cock as her orgasm hit, a raw, shuddering scream tearing from her throat.

"Oh, shit—Harry!"

Her walls spasmed, milking him, and her juices coated him, slick and hot, as she trembled beneath him, her nails digging into his back.

The sight of her—head thrown back, breasts heaving, face flushed with pleasure—pushed Harry over the edge. He thrust once, twice, then buried himself deep, a choked groan escaping him as he came, spilling inside her in thick, hot pulses.

"Nym—fuck!"

His body shook, every muscle locking as pleasure surged through him, his cock throbbing with each spurt. He collapsed onto her, panting, his face buried in her neck, her scent filling his senses.

For a moment, they just lay there, sweaty and tangled, catching their breath. The movie droned on, some guy shouting about a bomb, but neither of them cared. Harry's heart was still racing, and as his mind cleared, a sudden realization hit him.

"Shit, Nym," he said, lifting his head, his voice tight with worry. "I—I came inside you. I didn't mean to—fuck, I'm sorry."

Tonks opened her eyes, her lips curving into a lazy, amused grin. "Relax, Harry," she said, her voice soft but teasing. "I'm on a potion. No little Potters running around anytime soon." She reached up, brushing his messy hair off his forehead. "You're good, yeah? No need to panic."

Harry let out a relieved breath, his shoulders sagging. "Merlin's beard, you scared me for a second there." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Didn't exactly plan on being a dad while I'm still in Hogwarts."

She laughed, the sound bright and infectious, and poked his chest. "Oh, please. You'd be a cute dad, all fussy and protective. But yeah, let's keep it to fucking for now, yeah?" She winked, her hand sliding down to squeeze his arse. "Besides, you filling me up? Kinda hot."

Harry's face heated, but he grinned, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deep. "You're impossible," he murmured against her lips. "Hot as hell, but impossible."

"Guilty," she said, kissing him back, her tongue teasing his. "But you love it." She shifted beneath him, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and he could feel the mess of their combined release between them, slick and warm.

They stayed like that for a bit, kissing lazily, hands roaming—his on her breasts, hers on his back—until Tonks pulled back, her eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. The movie was still going, the screen flickering with some dramatic standoff, and she glanced at it, then back at him, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Alright, Potter," she said, her voice playful but challenging. "I've got a deal for you. Think you can keep your hands to yourself for the rest of this movie? No touching, no groping, no sneaky kisses. Just sit there and behave like a good boy."

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued but suspicious. "What's the catch? You don't just offer deals like that without something up your sleeve." He shifted, sitting up slightly, his hands still resting on her hips. "What do I get if I win?"

Tonks' grin widened, and she leaned up, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "If you can keep your hands off me 'til the credits roll, I'll let you fuck me in the back of Vernon's car when the Dursleys get back. However you want me to, all sneaky and dirty. What you say?"

Harry's cock twitched, already half-hard again at the thought. His mind flashed back to a movie he'd watched a couple of years ago while doing chores—some Muggle flick Dudley had nicked from a shop during the summer before his third year. It'd only been a couple of days before the incident with Marge.

There'd been a scene—a couple in the backseat of a car, windows fogged up, bodies moving together in the dark. He'd been awkward and curious, but the idea had stuck with him, a secret fantasy he'd never admitted to anyone. The thought of doing that with Tonks, her naked and moaning under him in Vernon's pristine car, was enough to make his blood pound.

"Fuck, Nym," he said, his voice rough with want. "You're serious? In Vernon's car?" He could already picture it—her spread out on the leather seats, her legs wrapped around him, the risk of getting caught making it even hotter.

"Dead serious," she said, her eyes sparkling. "But only if you can behave for…" She glanced at the TV, squinting at the screen. "What, twenty minutes? Think you can handle it?"

Harry laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Twenty minutes of not touching you? That's torture, and you know it." He looked at her, sprawled beneath him, her body flushed and inviting, and groaned. "But fuck, that reward? I'm in. You've got a deal."

Tonks giggled, pushing him off her gently and sitting up. "Good boy. Now, get comfy and keep those hands to yourself." She grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over her lap, but it did little to hide her curves, her breasts still bare and tempting. She patted the spot next to her, smirking. "C'mon, let's watch this crap movie like civilized people."

Harry snorted, pulling his shorts back on but leaving his shirt off, and settled next to her, his hands clasped tightly in his lap to resist temptation. "Civilized, my arse," he muttered, shooting her a sidelong glance. "You're sitting there naked, and I'm supposed to just watch the movie?"

"Exactly," she said, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "Be strong, Harry. Think of the prize." She leaned back, stretching her arms above her head, her breasts lifting in a way that made his mouth dry. "Mmm, this movie's getting good. Look, that guy's got a rocket launcher now."

Harry groaned, forcing his eyes to the screen. "You're evil," he said, but he was grinning, the challenge sparking something competitive in him. He focused on the movie—or tried to. The plot was a blur of explosions and shouting, but all he could think about was Tonks next to him, her warmth, her scent, her slick heat, and the promise of what was coming if he could just hold out.

Tonks wasn't making it easy. She shifted every few minutes, the blanket slipping to reveal more of her thigh, her shoulder brushing his. Once, she reached for the remote, her breast grazing his arm, and he tensed, his hands twitching. "Oops, sorry," she said, her voice all sugar, but the glint in her eyes said she knew exactly what she was doing.

"You're cheating," he accused, his voice strained. "That was intentional."

"Me? Cheat?" She gasped, pressing a hand to her breasts, which only drew his eyes to her nipples again. "I'm just watching the movie, Harry. Focus."

He gritted his teeth, forcing his gaze back to the screen. "Fucking hell, Nym. This better be worth it."

"Oh, it will be," she promised, her voice all low and sultry. "Picture it—me, bent over in that backseat, you fucking me hard while the Dursleys are right inside their home, having no idea their lovely car is getting defiled by those they consider freaks. Bet you'll love making a mess of Vernon's precious car."

Harry's cock hardened fully in his shorts, and he shifted, trying to adjust without touching her. "You're gonna pay for this," he muttered, but he was grinning, his mind racing with images of her in that car, her moans muffled against the seats.

The minutes dragged on, each one a test of his willpower. Tonks kept up her teasing—little stretches, soft hums, the occasional "innocent" brush of her leg against his. By the time the credits finally rolled, Harry was practically vibrating with restraint, his hands clenched into fists.

"Done!" he said, turning to her with a triumphant grin. "I win. Hands off the whole time. Now, about that car…"

Tonks laughed, tossing the blanket aside and climbing into his lap, her naked body pressing against him. "Well, damn, Potter. You've got some serious self-control." She kissed him, slow and deep, her tongue teasing his. "Guess I owe you a ride—in more ways than one."

Harry's hands were on her instantly, roaming her back, squeezing her arse. "Fuck, Nym, I've been dying to touch you," he said, kissing her back, his lips trailing to her neck. "You're lucky I didn't lose it halfway through."

She giggled, her hands sliding under his shorts, stroking his cock. "Oh, I felt you squirming. But you earned it." She pulled back, her eyes sparkling. "When the Dursleys get back, we're sneaking out to that car. Deal?"

"Deal," he said, his voice rough with anticipation. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed tight, and kissed her again, softer this time, savoring the feel of her.

They shifted, cuddling up on the couch, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. The movie was over, but the TV flickered with some late-night ad, and they stayed there, tangled together, her warmth seeping into him. Harry's hand rested on her hip, hers on his thigh, and for the first time that night, it wasn't about sex—just them, close and content.

"Gonna be a hell of a night when they get back," Tonks murmured, her voice sleepy but playful. "You ready for it, hero?"

Harry chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "With you? Always."

While Tonks hummed in contentment, Harry's mind was still buzzing, replaying the night in vivid flashes: Tonks' wicked grin, her body moving with his, the way she'd screamed his name. The promise of sneaking into Vernon's car later made his pulse quicken even now. But there was something else too—a quiet warmth in his chest, deeper than the raw want that had driven them earlier. He glanced down at her, her dark hair a messy halo against his skin, and his lips curled.

Tonks stirred, her lips curving into a sleepy smile as she tilted her head to look up at him. "You're thinking too loud, Potter," she mumbled, her voice thick with exhaustion but still teasing. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

He chuckled, his hand sliding down to squeeze her hip. "Just… this. You. Us." He hesitated for a moment before he added, "It's been a shit summer, Nym. The Dursleys, the Ministry, all the crap about Voldemort. But with you? And especially tonight? I feel like finally I've felt… I dunno, really alive after I don't know how long."

Her smile softened, and she reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "Yeah, I get that. You've got the weight of the bloody world on you, Harry. Makes me wanna keep you here, just like this, where it's simple." She leaned up, kissing him softly, her lips warm and lingering. "You're pretty good at making me forget the chaos too, you know."

He kissed her back, slow and gentle, savoring the taste of her. "Good. 'Cause I'm not done with you yet," he said, his voice low, a playful edge creeping in. "Still got that car date to look forward to."

Tonks laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest. "I didn't know you'd be this excited for it. Better be ready for a tight squeeze in that backseat. Vernon's car ain't exactly built for… acrobatics." She winked, her hand sliding up to ruffle his hair. "But I'm game if you are."

"Always," he said, grinning, as Tonks cuddled up to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, until the TV went static, the quiet of the house settling around them.

Check out my profile to read more of my work. The username is Vedros on all other sites where I post, so you can find me anywhere else using the same. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Harry's hands gripped Tonks' hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrust into her, the rhythm steady but hungry. The cramped backseat of Vernon's car creaked under their weight, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Tonks' moans filled the space, low and throaty, her body rocking back to meet each of Harry's firm thrusts. Her hair, now a wild shade of bubblegum pink, spilled over her shoulders, swaying with every push.

"Fuck, Nym," Harry panted, his voice rough. "You feel so bloody good." He slid one hand up her spine, tracing the curve of her back, slick with sweat. Her skin was warm under his palm, and he couldn't get enough of the way she arched into his touch, her body begging for more.

Tonks glanced back at him, her eyes half-lidded and gleaming with mischief. "Keep going, Harry," she teased, her voice breathy but laced with that familiar cheeky edge. "Don't you dare slow down now." She pushed her hips back harder, urging him deeper, and Harry groaned at the tight, wet heat of her pussy as it hugged his cock greedily.

He didn't slow down. If anything, he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the confined space. The car's windows were fogged up now, the outside world completely shut out. It was just them, lost in each other, the rest of the world be damned. Harry's fingers tightened on her hips, pulling her back to meet each thrust, and Tonks let out a sharp gasp, her hands bracing against the seat to steady herself.

"Fuck, Harry," she moaned, her voice breaking as he hit just the right spot. Her head dropped forward, strands of pink hair sticking to her damp forehead. "Right there, yeah, just like that."

Harry grinned, even through the haze of pleasure clouding his mind. He loved seeing her like this—undone, raw, completely herself. No Auror toughness, no Metamorphmagus tricks, just Nym, giving herself over to him. He leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

Tonks shivered under him, a soft whimper escaping her lips. "Flatterer," she managed, but the word was cut off by another moan as Harry thrust deeper, his cock filling her completely. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with every movement, and it drove him wild. His hands roamed her body, one sliding around to cup her breast, thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. She arched into his touch, her breath hitching.

The car rocked slightly with their movements, the suspension groaning in protest, but neither of them cared. Harry's other hand slipped between her thighs, fingers finding her clit, slick and swollen. He circled it slowly at first, teasing, then faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Tonks' moans grew louder, more desperate, her body shaking as she pushed back against him.

"Harry—oh, fuck," she gasped, her voice raw. "Don't stop, please, don't stop." Her words were a jumbled mess, spilling out between breaths, and Harry could tell she was close. He wasn't far behind, the heat building low in his gut, his cock throbbing inside her.

"Not stopping," he promised, his voice strained. He kept his fingers working her clit, his thrusts relentless, driving into her with everything he had. The sight of her—arse in the air, back arched, moaning his name—was almost too much. He wanted to make this last, to keep her trembling beneath him for as long as he could, but the pressure was building, and he knew he wouldn't hold out much longer.

Tonks' hands scrabbled at the seat, fingers digging into the worn fabric as her moans turned into cries. "Harry, I'm—fuck, I'm gonna—" Her words cut off as her body tensed, her walls clenching tight around him. She came hard, her whole body shuddering, a loud, broken moan tearing from her throat. Harry groaned, feeling her pulse around him, the sensation pushing him closer to the edge.

He kept moving, thrusting through her orgasm, his fingers still circling her clit to draw out every last shiver. Tonks' head dropped forward, her breaths ragged, but she was still pushing back against him, still wanting more. "Fuck, Harry," she panted, her voice hoarse. "You're gonna ruin me."

"That's the plan," he teased, squeezing her tits hard, pinching her nipples. His voice was tight, his control slipping as the pleasure coiled tighter inside him. He straightened up, hands back on her hips, and thrust harder, chasing his own release. Tonks moaned softly, still sensitive but urging him on, her body rocking with his.

The car was a mess now—windows steamed, seats creaking, and the air heavy with their mingled breaths that the lewd scent of their mixed arousal. Harry's eyes traced the curve of Tonks' back, the way her arse bounced with each thrust, and it was enough to tip him over. "Nym," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "I'm close."

"Do it," she urged, glancing back at him, her eyes dark and wild. "Come on, Harry, let go." Her voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a jolt straight through him. He thrust once, twice, then buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he came. The pleasure hit him like a wave, white-hot and overwhelming, and he groaned her name, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks.

For a moment, they stayed like that, both of them breathless, bodies pressed together. Harry's chest heaved, his heart pounding as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against her back. Tonks was trembling beneath him, her own breaths uneven, but she let out a soft, satisfied laugh.

"Bloody hell," she murmured, her voice warm with amusement. "We're gonna break this car."

Harry chuckled, still catching his breath. "Vernon'd lose his mind." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, tasting the salt of her skin, and slowly pulled out, both of them wincing at the sensitivity. Tonks shifted, turning to sit on the seat beside him, her legs tucked under her as their combined juices trickled out of her onto the leather. Her hair was a mess, her face flushed, but she looked utterly content, a lazy smile curling her lips.

"Worth every second," she said, leaning over to kiss him softly. Her lips were warm, lingering, and Harry felt a fresh spark of heat despite the exhaustion settling into his bones. He kissed her back, one hand cupping her cheek, thumb brushing over her skin, while the other stroked her thigh.

They sat there for a moment, tangled together in the cramped backseat, the world outside forgotten. The car smelled of them, the windows still fogged, and Harry couldn't help but grin at the absurdity of it all. "Never thought I'd be shagging in Vernon's car," he said, shaking his head.

Tonks laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Life's full of surprises, Potter." She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together, and gave him a playful nudge. "You're not done yet, are you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're insatiable."

"You love it," she shot back, her grin wicked. She leaned in, kissing him again, deeper this time, her tongue teasing his. Harry groaned into her mouth, his body already stirring despite the ache in his muscles. She was right—he did love it. Every second of it.

They shifted again, Tonks climbing back onto his lap, her thighs straddling his. She was still slick, still warm, and Harry's hands found her hips automatically, pulling her closer. "Another round?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

"Only if you can keep up," she challenged, her lips brushing his as she spoke. She rocked her hips, grinding against him, and Harry felt himself starting to harden again, the heat between them reigniting like it had never faded.

"Try me," he murmured, and then they were kissing again, hands roaming, bodies pressed tight. The car creaked under them, the night stretching on, and Harry knew they weren't leaving anytime soon. Not when it felt this good, this right.

XXXXX

It was way past midnight that found Harry and Tonks lay entangled on the reclined backseat, catching their breath after what had been a repeat of the previous night and more. Two nights of nothing but pleasure, and Harry couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment. Despite everything – Voldemort's return, the Ministry's denial, the Dursleys' hostility – in this moment, he was truly happy.

"What are you thinking about?" Tonks asked softly, her head resting on his chest.

"Just how strange life is," he replied thoughtfully. "A month ago, I was miserable here. Now, I'm..."

"Now you're what?" she prompted when he trailed off.

"Now I'm not," he finished simply. "And it's because of you."

Tonks was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad," she said finally. "You deserve to be happy, Harry. Even if it's just in stolen moments like this."

Harry tightened his arms around her, wishing they could stay like this forever. But reality intruded in the form of the car's clock, which showed it was nearly three in the morning.

"We should probably head back," he said reluctantly. "Dudley usually gets back from his gallivanting after three, and I don't want to risk him seeing us."

Tonks nodded, sitting up and beginning to gather her clothes. "You're right. Though I'm tempted to leave something embarrassing for your uncle to find."

"Like what?" Harry asked, curious despite himself.

Tonks grinned wickedly. "Oh, I don't know. Knickers in the glove compartment? A lipstick mark on the seat?"

"You are evil," Harry said with a grin. "I like it."

"I'm an Auror. I'm supposed to uphold the law, not encourage criminal behavior," she replied primly, but quickly ruined the effect by adding, "But in this case, I'll make an exception."

As they dressed and prepared to leave, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having claimed a small victory over the Dursleys, even if they would never know about it. It was petty, perhaps, but after years of their mistreatment, he felt entitled to a bit of pettiness.

Once they were both decent, Tonks removed the charms from the car and they slipped out, closing the doors carefully behind them. The night air felt cool after the warmth of the car, and Harry shivered slightly.

"I'll walk you back to your window," Tonks said, taking his hand.

"You don't have to," Harry began, but she cut him off.

"I want to," she insisted. "Besides, I'm your escort, remember? It's my job to keep an eye on you."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Harry teased as they made their way around the side of the house to where Harry's bedroom window was located.

"Among other things," Tonks replied with a smirk.

At the window, Harry turned to face her. "I wish you could stay," he said quietly.

"Me too," she admitted. "But it's too risky. Your aunt and uncle would have a collective aneurysm if they found me in your room."

"That might not be the worst thing in the world," Harry mused.

Tonks laughed softly. "Behave, Potter. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock sharp, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Harry said, leaning in to kiss her one last time. "Goodnight, Nym."

"Goodnight, Harry," she replied, stepping back as he began to climb through the window. "Sweet dreams."

"They will be," he assured her with a wink before disappearing into his room.

As Harry changed for bed, he couldn't help but smile to himself. For once, life at Privet Drive wasn't a complete nightmare. In fact, parts of it were downright enjoyable. He fell asleep with thoughts of Tonks and their stolen moment in Vernon's car, his dreams for once free of Voldemort and graveyard horrors.

XXXXX

The next morning dawned bright and clear, promising another hot summer day. Harry was already awake and dressed by the time Vernon left for work, having spent the early hours reviewing the books Sirius had sent him. He'd had a good night's sleep two night in a row now, free of nightmares, and he felt refreshed and alert.

Tonks arrived promptly at nine, surprising Harry with her punctuality. She was wearing her "professional" outfit – dark slacks, a modest blouse, and her hair the usual midnight black that she kept when around him. She was the quintessential image of a government official.

"Good morning, Harry," she said formally as Petunia let her in. "Ready for today's session?"

"Yes, Officer," Harry replied, equally formal, though he couldn't help the slight quirk of his lips.

"We'll be going to the park today," Tonks informed Petunia. "I find that open spaces can be beneficial for therapeutic discussions."

Petunia sniffed disapprovingly but didn't object. "Just make sure he's back by dinner. We're having an early lie in tonight, and I want all the chores to be done in time."

Harry saw Tonks roll her eyes as Petunia turned her gaze on him, but she maintained her professional demeanor. "I'll have him back by six, Mrs. Dursley."

As they left the house, Harry could feel Tonks's anger radiating off her. He waited until they were well out of earshot before speaking.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

"No," she said tersely. "I'm not okay with how they treat you. Just the look on her face this morning– what are you, a servant?"

Harry shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. But it's fine, really. I'm used to it."

"That's the problem, Harry," Tonks said, her hair darkening to a deep maroon. "You shouldn't be used to it. No one should treat you that way."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He'd long since accepted the Dursleys' treatment as just the way things were, but seeing Tonks's outrage on his behalf made him realize how abnormal it really was.

"It's only for a few more weeks," he said after a moment. "Once I'm at Hogwarts, I'll be free of them."

Tonks's expression softened slightly. "I know. I just hate seeing it. You don't deserve this."

"Having you here makes it better," Harry told her honestly. "It feels less like a prison sentence when I know I'll see you every day."

Her hair turned vibrant pink for a moment before it gradually returned to its usual midnight black, and she gave him a small smile. "Well, when you put it like that... I guess I can endure your horrible relatives if it means making your summer less miserable."

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, heading toward the park where they'd spent so many afternoons studying magic and just enjoying each other's company.

"So," Harry said eventually, "did anything interesting happen after you left last night? Any news from the Order?"

Tonks's expression changed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of frustration crossing her face before she schooled it back to neutrality. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Harry understood what it meant—Dumbledore's charm was once again preventing her from sharing information.

"Never mind," Harry said quickly, saving her the discomfort of fighting against the magical restriction. "Forget I asked."

Tonks sighed, looking genuinely apologetic. "I hate this, you know. Not being able to tell you things."

"It's not your fault," Harry assured her, though he couldn't keep the edge of bitterness from his voice. "Dumbledore has his reasons, I'm sure."

"That doesn't make it right," Tonks replied, her voice low. "You deserve to know what's happening."

Harry nodded, appreciating her support. It meant more than she probably realized. "Let's talk about something else. Like how Vernon's going to react when he notices the little surprise we left in his car."

Tonks's expression brightened immediately, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Oh, you mean the lipstick heart with his manager's initials I drew on the back of his driver's seat? The one that's charmed to only appear when the car reaches thirty miles per hour?"

Harry nearly choked. "You didn't!"

"I did," she confirmed proudly. "Don't worry, it'll fade after a few days. But not before he has a complete meltdown trying to figure out how it got there, or wondering if his manager's coming on to him. For his sake, I hope he doesn't do anything. I'd hate for him to lose his job over harassment."

"You're brilliant," Harry said, laughing at the images her words conjured in his mind. They'd truly hate for him to lose his job. Truly.

"I have my moments," she agreed with a wink.

They had reached the park by now, which was relatively empty given the hour. A few mothers with young children occupied the playground area, but their usual spot under the oak tree was vacant.

"Want to go through more ward variations today?" Tonks asked as they made their way to the tree.

"Actually, I was hoping we could work on offensive spells," Harry replied. "Shield charms and wards are great, but in a real fight, I'll need to do more than just defend."

Tonks considered this for a moment and nodded. "You're right. Though we'll have to be careful about practicing those in public. Offensive spells are more delicate."

"We could just go over the theory and wand movements with a stick then," Harry suggested. "Unlike how we did with the shields and wards. No risk of accidental spell fire in that case."

"Alright," Tonks agreed. "But first, how about we just enjoy the morning? We can sit and talk for a bit before diving into combat magic, which I'm sure you can help me out with as well."

"You mean it's gonna be my turn being the teacher?" He asked with a grin, making her roll her eyes.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as he pushed the thoughts of their training out of his mind. As much as he valued the training Tonks was providing, he also cherished these quieter moments with her – times when they could just be Harry and Nym, not the Boy Who Lived and his Auror protector, or teacher, or… whatever they were.

They settled beneath the tree, Tonks leaning back against the trunk while Harry stretched out on the grass beside her. For a while, they just sat in comfortable silence, watching the clouds drift across the sky.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like?" Harry asked suddenly. "If things were different? If Voldemort had never returned, or if I was just a normal wizard?"

Tonks turned to look at him, her expression thoughtful. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But then I think – would we have met if things were different? Would we be here, now, like this?"

"Probably not," Harry conceded. "If Voldemort hadn't returned, Dumbledore wouldn't have reactivated the Order, and you wouldn't have been assigned to watch me."

"See? Silver lining," Tonks said with a small smile, though there was a seriousness in her eyes. "Not that I'm glad he's back – of course I'm not. But I am glad I met you, Harry."

"Me too," Harry replied softly. "I just wish it could be under better circumstances."

"Don't we all," Tonks sighed. "But we play the cards we're dealt, right?"

"Right," Harry agreed, though he couldn't help adding, "Even if the dealer's clearly cheating."

Tonks laughed at that, her eyes shining with mirth as she nudged him playfully. "Especially then. That's when you need to be the most clever."

They fell into another comfortable silence, broken only by the distant sounds of children playing and birds singing. It was a perfectly ordinary summer day – a rarity in Harry's typically extraordinary life.

The peace didn't last long, however. As the day wore on, more and more people began to fill the park. However, it was the arrival of a familiar group of teenagers that Harry recognized with a sinking feeling that broke the peaceful atmosphere in its entirety.

"Damn," he muttered, sitting up straighter.

"What is it?" Tonks asked, following his gaze.

"Dudley's gang," Harry explained quietly. "They haven't spotted us yet, but they will."

Tonks's expression hardened slightly. "Your cousin and his charming friends? The ones you told me about – the ones who like to beat up ten-year-olds?"

"That's them," Harry confirmed grimly. "We should probably leave before they notice us. I'd rather avoid the headache of dealing with those thugs."

Alas, it was too late. One of the boys – Piers Polkiss, Harry recognized – had spotted them and was nudging Dudley, pointing in their direction.

"Too late," Harry sighed. "They're coming over."

Tonks straightened up, her posture shifting subtly into what Harry had come to recognize as her 'Auror stance'—alert, balanced, and ready for anything. "Let me handle this," she said quietly.

"Well, well, if it isn't Potter and his... babysitter," Piers called out as the group approached, his voice carrying across the park. "Heard you've gone properly mental, Potter. Need a full-time handler now, do you?"

Harry felt a flash of anger but kept his expression neutral, aware of Tonks beside him. Dudley, he noticed, was hanging back slightly, eyeing Tonks with obvious wariness. At least his cousin had enough sense to be cautious around someone he believed to be a government official.

"Mr. Polkiss, isn't it?" Tonks said coolly, standing up to face the group. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. Officer Tonks, Department of Juvenile Psychiatric Evaluation."

Piers faltered slightly at her official tone but recovered quickly. "Whatever. We all know Potter's a freak. Always has been."

"Interesting choice of words," Tonks replied, her voice remaining professional but with an edge that made Dudley even more nervous, evidenced in the way he took a step back. "I've found that people who resort to name-calling are often projecting their own insecurities onto others."

One of the other boys – Malcolm, Harry thought his name was – snickered. "She's calling you a freak, Piers."

"Shut up," Piers snapped, his face reddening. He turned back to Harry. "So what happened, Potter? Finally snap after years of being a weirdo? Started seeing things that aren't there?"

Harry remained silent, knowing that anything he said would only escalate the situation. Dudley was still hanging back, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Actually," Tonks said before Harry could respond, "I find Harry to be remarkably well-adjusted considering his circumstances. Unlike some individuals who feel the need to harass others to compensate for their own inadequacies."

Piers's face darkened further. "Who do you think you're talking to, lady? You can't talk to us like that."

"I believe I just did," Tonks replied calmly. "Now, I suggest you boys move along before I decide to include this encounter in my official report. I'm sure your parents would be fascinated to read about your behavior."

This threat seemed to give most of the gang pause – all except Piers, who took a step closer, his posture aggressive.

"You don't scare me," he said, though Harry could detect a note of uncertainty in his voice. "You're just some freak babysitting another freak."

Harry saw Tonks's hair darken slightly, but her voice remained steady. He glanced at the others to see if they noticed, but in the relative darkness around them, they had not.

"Mr. Polkiss," Tonks began, her voice deceptively calm, "I would strongly advise you to reconsider your approach. I am a government official, and interference with my duties is a serious offense."

Dudley finally seemed to find his voice. "Come on, Piers," he said, tugging at his friend's arm. "Let's go. It's not worth it."

Piers shook him off. "What's wrong with you, Big D? Since when are you scared of Potter and some random woman?"

"She's not just some woman," Dudley muttered, glancing at Tonks nervously. "She's... official."

"Listen to your cousin, Mr. Polkiss," Tonks advised. "He's showing remarkable good sense."

Piers looked like he wanted to say more, but Dudley's obvious discomfort and the authoritative presence of Tonks seemed to finally penetrate his bravado. With a final sneer at Harry, he backed away.

"Whatever. This park's boring anyway. Let's go, guys."

The gang retreated, with Dudley throwing one last uncertain look over his shoulder before following his friends. Harry watched them go with a mixture of relief and surprise.

"That was... interesting," he said finally, turning to Tonks. "I've never seen Dudley back down like that before."

"Fear of authority," Tonks replied, her hair briefly turning pink before gradually returning to black as she relaxed. "Your uncle's influence, I'd wager. Dudley's been taught to respect – or at least fear – official positions."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry agreed. "Though I'm surprised Piers was so confrontational. He's usually more of a follower than a leader."

"He was showing off," Tonks said with a slight shrug. "Trying to demonstrate his dominance in front of his friends. Pretty standard behavior for youthful males."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Should I be offended?"

Tonks grinned. "You're an exception, of course. You've got nothing to prove."

They settled back down under the tree, but the peaceful atmosphere had been disturbed by the encounter. Harry found himself scanning the park periodically, half-expecting Dudley's gang to return.

"We can leave if you want," Tonks offered, noticing his unease.

Harry shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'm not going to let them drive us away. Besides, we still need to go over those offensive spells, and I'm rather looking forward to being the teacher for a change."

Tonks pushed him away playfully, but there was an approving smile on her face. "Don't let it get to your head, Potter."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Tonks."

Tonks did her best to guide Harry, though it quickly became clear he didn't need much help. She wasn't all that surprised—Sirius had told her before that Harry had a natural instinct for magic, especially when it came to offense. Still, seeing it firsthand was something else.

The book Sirius had sent him was no basic material either—it was advanced, even by her standards. She ended up learning a fair bit from it herself. What really stood out, though, was how easily Harry took to it. He wasn't just picking things up quickly; he was helping her with parts she hadn't fully grasped, clarifying things in a way that didn't even feel like he was teaching.

It was a pretty big shift from their usual setup, where she was the one leading the charge. Oddly enough, she didn't mind it. Letting go of control for once and just learning alongside him—it was a nice change. Refreshing, even.

"You're a natural, Harry," Tonks said as they packed up their books. "You've got good instincts for this stuff."

"I've had a lot of practice," Harry replied dryly. "Seems like every year at Hogwarts involves fighting for my life at some point."

Tonks's expression sobered. "That's going to change. We're going to make sure you're prepared next time."

"We?" Harry repeated, looking at her curiously.

"Of course, we," she confirmed firmly. "You don't think I'm going to just leave you to face things alone, do you?"

The simple declaration warmed Harry more than he could express. Most of his life, he'd felt fundamentally alone – even with Ron and Hermione's steadfast friendship. To hear Tonks so casually include herself in his future, in his struggles, meant more than she probably realized.

"Thanks, Nym," he said quietly. "That... means a lot."

She seemed to understand the depth of feeling behind his simple words, leaning in to give him a soft kiss. "Always, Harry."

The moment was interrupted by a rumble of thunder in the distance. They both looked up to see dark clouds gathering on the horizon, a stark contrast to the clear blue sky that had dominated the morning and afternoon.

"Weather's turning," Tonks observed. "We should probably head back soon."

Harry nodded, though the thought of returning to Privet Drive was less than appealing. "Can we stop to grab something first? I'm starving after all that magical theory."

"Sure," Tonks agreed easily. "There's that café near the edge of the park. We can get sandwiches or something."

As they walked toward the café, Harry couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere had changed. The park was emptying quickly as people noticed the approaching storm, and the air had taken on that strange, heavy quality that often preceded summer thunderstorms.

"Weird weather," Harry commented as they reached the café. "It was perfectly clear just an hour ago."

"British summer," Tonks replied with a shrug. "You know how it is – four seasons in one day."

They ordered sandwiches and found a small table by the window where they could watch the approaching storm. The dark clouds were moving faster than seemed natural, and Harry felt an odd sense of unease creeping over him.

"Nym," he said slowly, "does that storm look... normal to you?"

Tonks followed his gaze, her expression becoming more serious as she studied the clouds. "Now that you mention it, no. It doesn't."

"Could it be..." Harry hesitated, not wanting to sound paranoid. "Could it be magical?"

Instead of dismissing his concern, Tonks considered it carefully. "It's possible. Weather manipulation is complex magic, but not unheard of. Why? What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Just a feeling. Something doesn't seem right."

Tonks trusted Harry's instincts enough to take him seriously. "Let's finish quickly and head back to Privet Drive. If there is something magical about that storm, I'd rather we were somewhere even more secure."

They ate quickly, Harry keeping one eye on the rapidly darkening sky outside. The wind had picked up significantly, and the first few fat raindrops were beginning to hit the café windows by the time they finished.

"We're going to get soaked," Tonks said as they prepared to leave. "Ready to make a run for it?"

Harry nodded, and they burst out of the café, immediately buffeted by the strengthening wind. The rain was falling steadily now, cold despite the summer heat, and the sky had darkened to an ominous gray-green color that Harry had never seen before.

They had made it about halfway back to Privet Drive when Harry spotted a familiar figure ahead of them – Dudley, walking alone fast towards the tunnel, his shoulders hunched against the rain.

"Looks like your cousin got separated from his gang," Tonks observed, following Harry's gaze.

"Or they abandoned him when the weather turned," Harry suggested. Despite his dislike for Dudley, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity at the sight of his cousin trudging through the rain alone.

The storm was intensifying rapidly, the wind howling around them with unnatural force. Harry was about to suggest they catch up to Dudley when he felt it – a sudden, bone-deep cold that had nothing to do with the rain or wind. A cold he had experienced before.

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. The rain seemed to freeze against his skin, and the sounds of the storm became muffled, as though they were suddenly underwater. A familiar heaviness settled in his chest, making each breath a struggle.

"Nym," he said urgently, taking her hand. "Dementors."

Tonks's eyes widened, her wand immediately in her hand though she kept it partially concealed. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Harry replied grimly, already reaching for his own wand. "I know what they feel like."

The cold was deepening, seeping into Harry's very bones. The streetlights flickered and dimmed, and the rain seemed to freeze in mid-air, creating an eerie stillness despite the howling wind.

"Dudley," Harry said suddenly, realizing his cousin was heading straight toward the source of the cold at the end of the tunnel. "He can't see them, but he'll feel them."

Without waiting for Tonks's response, Harry broke into a run, chasing after his cousin. He could hear Tonks following close behind, her footsteps splashing through the puddles forming on the pavement.

"Dudley!" Harry shouted when he was close enough. "Dudley, wait!"

Dudley turned, his face already pale with fear though Harry knew he couldn't see what was causing it. "Potter? What's happening? What have you done?"

"It's not me," Harry said quickly, reaching his cousin's side. "We need to get out of here. Now."

"What's going on?" Dudley demanded, his voice shaking. "It's so cold, and I feel... I feel..."

"I know," Harry said grimly. "Just stay close to me."

Tonks caught up to them, her wand now fully visible as she scanned the darkening street. "Harry, we need to move. Get Dudley to shelter."

But it was too late. The lights above went out completely, plunging them into an unnatural darkness despite it being early evening. And then Harry saw them – two tall, hooded figures gliding toward them from either end of the tunnel, their rattling breath audible even over the wind.

The Dementors had indeed come to Little Whinging.

To be continued…

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