Birthday Boy

Birthday Boy, Part I

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Nymphadora Tonks eyed the peep hole at Number Four Privet Drive. A pale blue eye stared icily back at her, and then narrowed. Before Tonks could step away, the door flew open and she tripped over the landing, falling into a jumbled heap at eye level with a very prim pair of white, patent leather pumps.

"Sorry about that!" she gasped, scrambling to her feet and smoothing down her electric blue blunt cut bob. Petunia Dursley stared back at her, arms crossed, lips pursed and left eye twitching ominously. "I'm here to see Harry... I've got a special treat for him. For his birthday."

"I thought he was scheduled to have his lesson today with that foul, greasy haired man," sniffed Mrs. Dursley, eyeing her beadily.

"Foul? Greasy... oh! You mean Sevvie... yea... well, we traded." Tonks grinned, and began digging in the pockets of her cloak. "I got tickets to see the Weird Sisters."

"What?"

"The Weird Sisters. They're a -"

"Never mind THAT. We agreed to let Harry have his lessons over the summer, not go traipsing off to freak shows with - "

"Freaks?" Tonks winked at her, and then put on her serious face when it became obvious Mrs. Dursley had yet to acquire a sense of humor. "Well it is technically a lesson. A field trip. Harry has to learn to blend in."

Mrs. Dursley looked as if she doubted very seriously that anyone with blue hair and a long, violently purple cloak could teach anyone lessons in 'blending in', but said nothing, clearly fuming. Tonks took that for grudging approval.

"Well, um... anyway if --" Tonks spied Harry leaning against the stair railing over Mrs. Dursley's shoulder. "Ah! There you are, Harry."

Mrs. Dursley sniffed and marched huffily off in the direction of her unnaturally clean kitchen.

"Wotcher, Tonks." Harry grinned at her. "I thought it was Snape today."

"Yes, well, since it was your birthday, and since I can't imagine anyone would want to spend a birthday with the Melancholy Master, and since I just happened to have tickets to see the Weird Sisters... hope you aren't disappointed, " she said, following him up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Disappointed? Are you kidding? What a relief," he said, his face alight. "I really appreciate it. I've... I've never been to a wizard concert before. I mean, the Weird Sisters did play at a ball once at school, and I really liked them, but... well... thanks. I usually spend my birthday alone, actually... "

Poor kid. He's been to hell and back, lost his Godfather, still has to live with these disgusting people... He seemed to find the Metamorphmagus lessons fun at least. Though at times, when he didn't think she was paying attention, she could see the darkness clouding his face. Being savior of the entire Wizarding world was a great deal to shoulder for a kid. Hell, it was a great deal to shoulder for anyone, maybe even for Dumbledore. They'd all aged after that night at the Ministry. He had talked about it some, and she felt quite honored that he trusted her enough to open up to her. Merlin knew she'd never quite be the same again, but Harry... you could see it in his eyes. He was an old soul to begin with, but now the boyish innocence was almost completely gone. It wasn't fair... 'I usually spend my birthday alone, actually...' it made her very sad. She fought the urge to embrace him.

"Harry..." she paused, not really knowing what to say without making him feel uncomfortable or sounding like a great big sap.

"It's ok, really... I got presents, and a couple of cakes," he said brightly, opening the door to his comfortably disheveled room -- the only room in the Dursley household Tonks ever felt at ease in.

There were school books and quills and scrolls spread across a small, battered desk. His bed was made, but slightly wrinkled where he had recently sat upon it. Chocolate Frog cards were scattered across the counterpane, including an ultra rare Bertie Bott card sealed and mounted in a frame. A calendar was tacked on the wall, with a large red circle around the date 'September 1'. A brand new book titled A Survival Handbook for Aurors: 1001 Spells, Hexes and Counter Curses lay atop a dresser next to a sleeping Hedwig in her cage.

"From Mad-Eye?" she asked, tracing the raised gold letters on the cover with a fingertip.

"From Hermione," he replied darkly, picking up the book and stuffing into his open school trunk. "Moody sent me this." He was holding up a small, pocket sized mirror Tonks recognized instantly as a foe glass. "It's been dead useful already... just this morning it warned me that Dudley was trying steal my muffin."

Tonks laughed. "I must admit I've used my own foe glass for similar purposes."

Harry showed her a few more presents, including a fine pair of dragon hide gloves sent by Remus Lupin that had once belonged to her cousin, Sirius Black. He offered her some cake (which she declined), and then demonstrated perfectly the Metamorphmagi trick she had shown him the previous week -- making his hands look really old and craggy -- which made her chest swell a bit with pride. He was catching on rather quickly now, though things had not been quite so smooth in the beginning.

"So tonight we will be going on a bit of a field trip," she said, pacing the room as Harry lay sprawled across the bed on his stomach watching her intently. "It will be a lesson in blending into a crowd. A fun lesson, but... well, I promised McG that this would be an educational experience, it was the only way she would agree to it, so... let's see about making you into the perfect young wizard concert goer."

"I can't believe Professor McGonagall lets you call her that."

"Who says she lets me?" Tonks winked at him, then continued. "Anyway, basically we will work on hair, facial features and..." she paused, casting a critical glance at Harry's closet. "We'll also need to transfigure something for you to wear."

"Er... well, my Muggle clothes are second hand from my cousin... and I only need my regular school robes at Hogwarts," he said, sounding a bit embarrassed. Tonks immediately felt terrible.

"Oh, that's quite all right... I mean, I didn't care about clothes at all as a teenager. Well, I still don't, actually, not really. I mean... well. It really doesn't matter in the end when we can transfigure exactly what we need since it is only for a few hours, right?" she said, a bit flustered. "Let's get to work then, shall we?"

The next hour was spent perfecting Harry's look. Since brightly colored hair was all the rage among fashionable wizarding youth at the moment, he decided on a deep purple. It took several tries, despite hair transformation being Harry's very first sign of Metamorphmagus ability. Getting the crazy, multidirectional cowlicks to transform into something less recognizably Harry-like took a great deal of concentration on his part. Tonks coaxed him along, and eventually they achieved the look they were going for.

"You seem to do this so effortlessly," he grumbled, scrunching up his face and fighting a stray, spiky strand. Tonks didn't dare admit it, but he was really cute when he did that. Too cute.

"It'll come, just takes practice. Lots and lots of practice," she smiled at him. Though she had discovered her gift at an earlier age, morphing still wasn't by any means effortless. It took a great deal of focus. "It's still not exactly easy breezy for me either, you know."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "So how did you know?"

"Didn't I tell you? Hermione mentioned that thing with your hair, when you grew it back after your aunt sheared it all off," she said. "I knew immediately of course, that's just not some accidental thing you can do. Self-transfiguration is very, very advanced magic, I knew you had to be a Metamorphmagus."

"No, I mean... how did you find out you were a Metamorphmagus?" he asked.

Tonks smiled to herself at the memory. "Well, my father had taken me to a Muggle amusement park. He has a great love for roller coasters, my father. Anyway, we were queued up for this great big one - lots of loops and things. I was very excited, always had a thing for danger, I suppose. However, once we got to the front of the queue, there was a man standing there with a measuring stick. He said you had to be a certain number of centimeters in order to ride. I was a wee bit of a thing, so I was a few centimeters short. Terribly disappointed, I was. So... there I stood, near tears, wishing I could grow just a bit, just enough to ride. And, well, I did. Just like that!"

"Must have been quite a shock," he said, grinning at her. "Did you get to go on the roller coaster after all?"

"Oh, good heavens no," said Tonks, laughing. "My father snatched me away immediately. The Ministry had quite a time sorting it all out, but my parents were very proud in the end, once they realized what it all meant."

His expression was unreadable for a moment, but then brightened. "I've never been on a roller coaster before. The Dursleys never let me come along when they took Dudley to amusement parks for his birthday. Is it fun?"

"Oh yes, loads of fun. A bit like being on a runaway broomstick, but you are all strapped in and such," she said. "We could go on one sometime if you like."

"I would like that very much," he said. "If it's not any trouble, of course. I always wanted to visit an amusement park."

"Trouble? Of course not, Harry," she giggled. "I like spending time with you, and besides, I never do anything fun on my days off."

"You... you like spending time with me?" he asked, sounding slightly incredulous.

"Well of course I do," she said, a bit bemused. "Tell you what... I have next Saturday off. If you don't have any other lessons, I'll clear it with Minnie. I'll tell her I've got another field trip planned out for you."

Harry seemed quite excited by this. "Really? Oh wow, that would be great."

"Excellent! It's a date then."

"A... a date?" His eyebrows shot up, and his glasses nearly slid off his nose.

"Er, yea... but you can bring Ron and Hermione along if you like," she said, realizing that perhaps 'date' wasn't quite the word to use, under the circumstances.

"Oh," he said, quietly. "I don't think they'd want to."

"I suppose it will be just the two of us then," she said, feeling a bit guilty that she rather liked the idea of it being just the two of them. "Er, perhaps we should get on with getting ready for the concert, shall we?"

"Yes, of course," he said, looking away from her.

To Tonks's astonishment, it took Harry almost no effort to rid himself of the lightening bolt scar on his forehead. "Been practicing," he admitted, his expression darkening and his voice sounding almost vicious.

"Eyes?" she asked. "And what of your glasses?"

"I would like to keep my eyes the way they are," he said, gazing into the mirror above his dresser. "I... I rather like my eyes."

"We'll still need to change your glasses," Tonks replied gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. She had met Lily Potter only once, but those eyes... she couldn't forget them. "I rather like your eyes too."

Transforming Harry's clothes was actually less of an undertaking than Tonks had originally feared. She found a slightly too small, faded black t-shirt in the back of a drawer that really only needed the color transfigured to a deeper black. His jeans needed to be fit properly, though getting them to hug certain curves and bulges without being too tight or too obvious managed to turn the exercise into an embarrassing one for them both. Ripping the holes in the right places was slightly less embarrassing, but Harry still managed to turn three different shades of red as she was picking out the best spots.

"Now you just need a stylish set of robes..." Tonks rummaged through Harry's school trunk for something suitable and found nothing, until... "Ah! Here we are!" They were formal dress robes, but they would be easy enough to fix. "Harry -"

"Those are my dress robes. They are probably too small for me now; I got them in Fourth year."

"No worries." She eyed the robes critically. "Here, toss them on then."

Harry struggled into his old dress robes. The sleeves were much too short, the hem hit about mid-calf, and he had obviously grown broader across the chest and shoulders. "I guess I've grown a bit," he said sheepishly.

"Indeed. Well, let's see what we can do..." Harry looked slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. "Color's good... matches your eyes. Hmmm..."

Ten minutes later, Harry stood before her completely transformed. He was the perfect picture of a young, reckless bad boy wizard. The sort that had once made her heart melt as a rebellious trouble maker at Hogwarts. She giggled slightly at the memory. Her tastes ran slightly more straight laced these days. But only slightly.

"What? What is it?" he asked, eyeing himself critically in the mirror. "Do I look ok? Do you think anyone will recognize me?"

"You look... you look absolutely perfect, Harry," she said, smiling at him. "You look... nice. Very nice." Almost too nice, she thought. "If I took you home, my mother would be horrified."

"Is that... good?" He looked perplexed.

"Very good."

They had to wait until dark before flying off, lest they be spotted by Muggles. Tonks took the time to perfect her own look for the evening, entertaining Harry with various hair styles and outrageous outfits. This was for fun, not deep cover, so she kept her 'real' face and petite build. In fact, unless it was a deep cover operation or a specific lesson, she always kept relatively close to her natural appearance around Harry. After all of the deception he had endured, she wanted to be as genuine with him as possible.

After the sun had set (and a small kafuffle with Vernon Dursley) Tonks and Harry set off on their broomsticks. Harry was extremely happy to be on his Firebolt again after having had it chained to a wall the entire school year at Hogwarts. He truly was an amazing flier, no question about it, and an absolute joy to watch. Tonks fancied herself a skilled flier (a necessity as an Auror), but Harry had a natural gift that no amount of practice could ever approach.

They had a bit of a tailwind, and the flight to London went a bit quicker than expected. Harry looked almost disappointed as they touched down on the roof of The Leaky Cauldron.

"The concert is in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, removing his new dragon hide gloves finger by finger. Such nice hands...

"At the Screaming Banshee," she replied. "It's a night club."

"I had no idea there were wizarding night clubs in Diagon Alley," he said, shouldering his Firebolt. Tonks tried not to look at his hands as he did so. "Will they let me in?"

"Of course they will. You're with me."

The potbellied doorwizard at the Screaming Banshee gave them both appraising looks after taking their tickets, but his beady little eyes narrowed on Harry. Tonks was afraid for a moment that he had recognized him. "You sure you're old enough to be in here?" he asked in a drawling accent Tonks was able to place as vaguely Southern American.

Relieved it was only his age at issue, she reached inside of her cloak and pulled out her Auror's badge. The doorwizard pulled a stubby cherry wood wand out of his back pocket and tapped the silver and bronze badge with a skeptical smirk. He looked slightly disappointed to find it was genuine. "Ain't this one a little young for you, darlin'?"

Tonks smiled sweetly at him as she pocketed her badge. "I like them that way... young, tender and thoroughly corruptible," she said silkily, and linked her arm in Harry's. He goggled at her, but thankfully kept his mouth shut until they made it inside the club. "We'll have to work on facial aging next lesson," she whispered to him as they seated themselves at a small table near the bar.

A scantily clad witch in an apron approached their table with a quill and small pad of parchment. "What can I get you," she cooed. "Fire-jelly shots are on special. Two for a sickle."

"We'll take four," Harry said, digging around for the coins.

Tonks considered for a moment whether or not she should actually be letting Harry order Fire-jelly shots. They were nearly pure Fire Whiskey. McG would be horrified. On second thought... a few couldn't possibly hurt.... it was his birthday, after all...

"Is this a typical thing for Aurors? Going to a concert, I mean?" Harry asked, downing his third Fire-jelly shot.

"When you are tailing someone, you could end up anywhere. You have to be prepared for that. As a Metamorphmagus, you have a distinct advantage over other wizards who have to use complicated spells to transfigure themselves. Once you've begun to master the basics a bit better, we'll work on what is probably almost as important as being able to transform itself. That is, of course, observation. You have to be able to study your surroundings and gauge what would be the best form to take. If you are pretending to be a Cockney chip shop Muggle girl, you have to act the part," she said. "You have to become a student of human behavior - both wizard and Muggle."

"Is that why it takes three years to become an Auror?"

"Well, it's just one reason. There is a great deal to learn. Being an Auror isn't just about attack spells and battles. In fact, that happens rather infrequently, which is a good thing, I'm sure you will agree," she said, helping herself to a Fire-jelly shot. "A large part of the job is actually research, data collection, compiling dossiers, studying your quarry until you know him or her almost as well as you know yourself. The key to staying alive in this profession is knowledge, anticipating your enemy's next move, and acting before he makes it."

"So someone like Hermione would probably do better than me then?" Harry asked, not meeting her eyes and twiddling with his shot glass.

"Hermione would do ok, but she doesn't think on her feet the way you do. She would be a good researcher, a good strategist, but not a good field operative or tactician. She's a brilliant and very talented witch, but being an Auror requires you to hone your abilities until they are burned into your subconscious at an almost instinctual level. Hermione could never do that. She would always be second guessing herself."

"Sometimes her second guessing comes in real handy. I - I wish I would have listened to her that night..." he trailed off.

"Harry..." she began, softly, "second guessing does come in handy sometimes, that's why we Aurors work in teams. Part of Auror training is learning when to second guess."

"How many more of my friends do I have to see die before that happens?" he said bitterly, almost spitting out the words.

"I - I can't answer that for you. I've seen friends die and wondered how I could have prevented their deaths. Nothing I can say or do will make you feel better about that. Nothing anyone has ever said to me has exactly made me feel better." Tonks felt her eyes begin to burn and her throat close up. She fought back the memory. "You've seen as much as most Aurors. More, really, and have come out alive where many have not. There is a reason McGonagall and Dumbledore wanted to get you started on your training now rather than later. You-Know-Who is after you --"

Harry let out a derisive snort, cutting her off. "Lucky me."

"No Harry, lucky us."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Tonks considered him for a moment. He had no idea... Sixteen years old, not quite a man, but not a boy either. Yet... if anyone could save the magical world, it was Harry. She felt it was supremely unjust that this wonderful young man sitting in front of her was the target of the most evil, most powerful wizard in centuries, but Harry was the only one among them who had the power, strength and goodness to defeat that evil.

"Because, Harry, if it were anyone else, I would fear for our world. Because it is you, I know that no matter what happens, no matter how many die, no matter what evil must be endured, you and you alone have the power to defeat him." She paused. "And you will."

"Well... thanks for the vote of confidence," he said quietly. "I think."

"You are quite welcome," she said. "And thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"For being you."

"It's not much fun being me," he said darkly, waving down the cocktail waitress. "Rather lonely, in fact."

"You've got me," she said, lightly touching his arm. "And you've got Remus and Mad-Eye and Kingsley. You've got Ron and Hermione --"

"Oh, them," he said with a derisive laugh. Tonks eyed him quizzically, and he continued. "Ron and Hermione have each other. I imagine they --"

"I imagine they would still go to the ends of the earth for you Harry, if you asked them." So that's it... Ron and Hermione must be a couple now.

"Well, maybe..." He sighed, and picked up one of the shot glasses that had wafted over from the bar and landed on their table. "I guess I should have seen it coming, you know? I know I should feel happy for them, but I don't."

"Did you..." She began, not really wanting to pry, but curious nonetheless. "Did you have feelings for Hermione yourself?"

"No. I mean, well, I don't really know. It's not that, really, it's just..." He paused, raising a Fire-jelly to his lips, then putting it down again a little too hard on the table. "It's just I - I always thought of us as a... as a trio. Not consciously, of course, but now they have something I can't be a part of. I feel...."

"Cut off?" She finished for him.

"Yes, that's it. Cut off."

"You can't blame them, Harry."

"I don't. I just wish I could find something like that," he said.

"A girl, you mean?"

"Not just a girl, no... Someone who..." His face turned slightly red. "Well, you know..."

Tonks stifled a giggle.

"It's not funny," he said, but he was hiding a smile.

"It's ok Harry, I know what you mean. We all have, um, needs." She couldn't believe she had just said that. No more alcohol for me...Bad Tonks, Bad...

His eyes widened slightly at her, but then he smiled a bit sheepishly. "Yea...needs... but, well, that's not quite what I mean either, if you know what I mean. Not that I don't have needs..."

"I, er, know what you mean." The conversation was beginning to veer off in a dangerous direction.

"I need someone who knows me, you know? Someone who doesn't just know me as The Boy Who Lived. An equal, someone... someone who knows what it's like to fight these battles, someone who understands," he said, leaning across the table towards her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"I understand," she said, realizing how her words must sound a moment too late.

He tilted his head, looking at her and smiling slightly, his half-lidded eyes twinkling at her in a way that sent a small thrill up her spine. "You do understand..."

"Whoops! Look at the time. Concert is about to start," she said, a little too loudly and looking at her wrist for a watch that wasn't there. "Perhaps we should make our way towards the stage and get a good spot?"

"Sure," he said distantly, getting up from the table and following her towards the dance floor.

Nice save, she thought to herself.

***

Tonks watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. His face was flushed. He was swaying to the music, but not quite with it. She still couldn't shake the way had looked at her earlier. Perhaps it was a mistake letting him have the Fire-jelly shots, but, well... no harm done. Not really. Perhaps she shouldn't have had any herself, however.

He had done a Reducto charm on his robes and had stuffed them into a pocket. He was left in the slightly too small tee-shirt and artfully torn jeans, revealing firm quadriceps. Let's not go there, she thought to herself and tried to focus on the stage and not on the lean, lightly muscled arms of the newly legal young man brushing against her.

He's not that young, she told herself. Only seven years difference in age. That's practically nothing.

He's still at Hogwarts, her more rational voice countered. Besides, you are his teacher.

No, no... not teacher. Tutor. I'm only that because I am the only Metamorphmagus in all of Britain.

Well, you are also an Auror. You are an authority figure. You track down people who break the law.

Well, that is not quite accurate. Besides, he *is* sixteen. He's perfectly legal.

What would Professor McGonagall say?

Minnie McG? Well, considering the way she looks at Sevvie when she thinks no one is looking...

You are hopeless.

Yes, I am, now go away.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "You alright, Tonks?" Harry's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

"Yep. Perfectly peachy," she replied, forcing a smile.

"You want to dance?"

For the first time Tonks noticed the slowly swaying, lip-locked couples around her. "You do realize what you are getting yourself into?"

He looked slightly disappointed.

"Oh, not that I wouldn't want to dance with you... It's just... well, I am a complete klutz. I can't dance at all. I trip over air, you know... But, er... if you don't mind all that...."

"I'm not the greatest dancer either," he admitted. "But, um... what did you say earlier? 'It'll come, just takes practice'?"

Tonks had to smile at that. "Ok, let's dance then," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders. His very, very nice shoulders.

She felt his hands tentatively grasp at her waist.

"Is this right?" he asked, pulling her closer and grinning. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Mmmm... yes. Yes, I believe it is indeed," she replied, looking away, and suddenly very aware that their bodies were touching. She was also suddenly very aware of the texture of his jeans against her bare legs... very aware of his fingers caressing the small of her back... of her breasts brushing against his chest.

"You smell good," he murmured, burying his face in her hair.

Oh no... Tonks's head flew up in surprise, the back of her skull hitting the slightly inebriated Harry square in the nose.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Harry..." she fumbled for her wand.

"It's... it's alright..." his hand was partially covering face. "Just - "

"Just hold still a moment," she said squinting at him. "Reducto Doleo!"

"Oh, wow... thanks. That was fast." He looked a little embarrassed.

"Yea, well, with my clumsiness I've become a bit of an expert with these things," she admitted sheepishly. "Of course, my Muggle grandmother always..." She stopped herself.

"Yes?"

"Oh, well..." she felt her face flush. "When I would get a scrape or bruise as a little girl, Gran Tonks- my Muggle grandmother - would always say 'a kiss to make it better'. Muggle Magic."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, then his mouth curled into a half smile. "It still hurts a little. Maybe you should try that, too," he said softly. "Kiss it and make it better."

Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the utterly charming way he was looking at her, maybe it was.... whatever it was, it compelled Tonks to stand on her toes and kiss Harry lightly on the tip of his nose.

"Even better." He smiled at her, then leaned down and brushed his lips softly against hers.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was returning his kiss. She could feel his unexpectedly strong, elegantly beautiful hands on her back, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed tightly together. His lips and tongue were gentle, tentative at first, but became urgent, insistent, and almost rough when he realized she wasn't going to pull away. There was something else... something she hadn't felt before. It was a kind of raw, intoxicating power... it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It made her want to devour him whole. He didn't kiss like a sixteen year old boy... she could almost convince herself it was ok...

Finally she was able to wrench her mouth away from his. Her lips smarted and her face was a little scratched from his slight stubble. It felt absolutely delicious. Why did he have to be so damn kissable?

He was looking at her, those lovely, lovely warm, powerful hands holding hers as they stood there. "Was that... ok?

Tonks sighed deeply and looked down at their hands. "Harry..."

"I don't know if I'm any good at kissing... I-I..." he stammered.

"No... It's, it's not that it's..." It's that you're too good at kissing... "I don't think I should be kissing you."

"Why not?"

"You are sixteen years old, Harry. I'm supposed to be your teacher..."

"Oh, I see... I see how it is." He sounded hurt. "I'm just a kid."

"No... that's not it."

"Well that's sure what it sounds like. Savior of the magical world, but too young to join the Order, too young to be told the truth, too young to kiss... to kiss you." He dropped her hands. "I thought you were different. You never treated me like a kid... "

"You're not a kid, but..."

"But what?"

Before she could respond, the Weird Sisters ended their slow set and cranked up the volume to their high voltage hit "Charm Me, Baby!" The crowd went stonking wild and began gyrating around them.

Dodging several pairs of flailing arms, Tonks grabbed one of Harry's wrists, and motioned towards the bar. "Let's go somewhere more quiet," she said, "and private."

After they made it through the crowd, back to the bar, Harry repeated his question. "But WHAT?"

Tonks sighed heavily. "I'm seven years older than you..." He opened his mouth as if to protest, but she continued onbefore he could stop her. "I am supposed to be teaching you, and quite frankly, there isn't anyone else in the entire country who can. You, despite being decades older than your years, are still at Hogwarts. That makes me..."

"Makes you what?"

"A cradle robber? Really, really stupid?" She crossed her arms over chest and exhaled. "McG barely let me take you off to a concert. What the hell is she going to think when I tell her 'oh yea, by the way, Minnie, thanks for letting me take little Harry Potter out on a date. Boy, he sure does kiss nice.'"

"You think I kiss nice?"

"Yes. Very nice. Er, wait..."

Before she could protest any further, his mouth was on hers again. Hungry. Insistent. His hands were on her back, then her hips. It took every ounce of self control in her to finally pull away from him again.

He said nothing, just grasped her shoulders, breathing heavily and staring at her with those penetrating, deep green eyes. She looked down, away from his gaze. "Harry, we can't..."

His hands went slack and dropped away. When she looked up, his eyes were no longer on her. He was looking at the stage. It was then that she realized that the music had stopped and the crowd had gone completely silent. In place of the Weird Sisters, stood twenty silent hooded figures in familiar black robes.