| A Harry/Tonks Challenge for | |
| William Fowler | |
| Rating:TBD | |
DECEMBER CHALLENGES: | |
| Any rating and no word count limit. | |
| It's the Christmas hols, but Harry isn't spending it anywhere he has before. Things are tense and he's unsure if he's going to make it through to the new year. Tonks isn't sure how to handle this latest development, but she's going to try. | |
| Required phrases in a story: | |
| This is going to be a multi-chapter story, detailing the time up to Christmas, only I expect it to be about 10,000 words. There is a possibility it will be R or NC-17 Rated but I've never done one so, please hold any hateful comments in. | |
| Email me when you want to review it. |
He sits alone, she notices, by the fire. All day and all night; never moving, never reacting, never caring. It's all he does; since Grimmauld Place was taken over, Sirius' unexpected death and Dumbledore's blind ignorance. Never moving, never caring; he ignores the world.
She sits alone; every meal, every night pondering the meaning of life. Never acting as she's known. The world around them spins, turning and ignoring the two; as if mocking their very existance.
As the meeting begins, an old man with a long, flowing, white beard cleared his throat.
"Today, I received a disturbing report from our spy among the Death Eater. He has reported the capture of the Dursley's. I need for you to take this portkey, so we can keep you accounted for, Harry. Nymphadora?"
She nods, carefully, clearly hoping he wasn't going to say what he did. "You will need to take him and this letter to the address on the envelope. After you both arrive, you are to stay there. Harry, I want your word that you will NOT go after your family."
He nods, she sighs. Tapping the letter with her wand, she watches as the address appears. She gasps and hands him the letter. Harry barely recognizes it before he lets a tear fall off of his face. As he silently opens the letter, hands trembling, a hand placed upon his shoulder and a pull at his naval bring the situation to a head.
He was going home.
Not just home, though, in the sense of the word. No, he was going to the home he lived at the night his parents died, the night Lord Voldemort decided to attack. Harry's Christmas was at Godric's Hollow.
She handed him the letter, though it was addressed to her, it was his right. He carefully slips his finger underneath the crossdown and slides across, opening the envelope as if a lifeline. She watches in amazement while he in amusement. Finally, the letter is out, and the boy allows a soft frown cross his face. He hands her the letter a little crossly and waits patiently.
| Dear Nymphadora, |
| If anything, you have allowed Harry to read this letter in the hopes of staying his sense of bravery. If this is so, I am sorry to say that your hopes of diminishing this are futile. Harry is, at best, a delicate boy with all the needs of a boy. His mood, while agile and shifty, are nothing but a plea, a plea in this case for attention. |
| The house you are now in is, in fact Harry's, however great wards placed on the home will not allow him or anyone else inside unless first activated by the reading of a parchment. This reading must come from an adult over the age of 18, who will then become Secret Keeper of the residence. It is with you, I have given this responsibility. |
| I am entrusting your cooperation, Nymphadora. Read the following words aloud and enter. Tell Harry that, if not for the age matter, a different parchment would have been allowed him. |
| Thank you for taking this responsibility, as I know you will. Please, let him enjoy his Christmas. |
She smiled, looking at the gained glare from the person in front of her, if he could now still be considered a boy, after all he'd done, she'd Avada Kedavra herself on the spot. As the knowledge of the Potter family came, unbidden and uninvited to her mind, she struggled for a moment. Turning the knob, she was turning to tell him the secret when he walked in.
She smiled. She knew, somewhat, the rational thoughts behind Dumbledore's reasoning. She smiled. Harry, she was Harry's Secret Keeper and she'd be damned if she'd mess it all up now.
The following day, Harry had gotten up before her. As was usual, the tense feeling was chocking her, cutting off her air supply. He's feeling hurt, she could tell by his facial expressions. She smiles sadly at him, hoping to find common ground. As they hunted through the house, rooms became available on whim. Literally, as they passed by they appeared out of nowhere. She squealed, a girlish squeal, and watched as the smile played on his lips. 'Progress.'
The next day, the silence was gone. Now that he was in a new, yet familiar place he seemed to open up, if only a bit. She smiled at the sight. As if he knew she was thinking about him, Harry's head turned and met hers.
She smiled and turned, not noticing the slight blush that crossed his features. As she sautered off, Harry's eyes never leave hers. His face, a conflict of emotions.
