By Lord Wrackspurt

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This Chapter is a continuation of a novel length fan-fiction story which replaces the final book in the Harry Potter series. This story is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter 6: The Boy who got Laid

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The summer had always passed quickly for Hermione. Little to do but read and enjoy the pleasant days. This summer had been different. Rolanda Hooch had arrived at exactly the appointed time and place. Hermione told her parents that she had been offered an internship working in the government that could lead to a job after graduation. They were overjoyed at the prospect.

Hermione had apparated with Hooch to the Inquisitors private site deep inside the Ministry building. Security was tight; Hermione was thoroughly checked to be sure that she had no dark magic artifacts or tracking devices on her. Then she went to the personnel section of the department. There she was issued an identification aura so that the magical charms protecting the facility would recognize her as one of them. She was given the location of the Ministry site by the secret keeper so that she could come there on her own. There was also an identification code issued to all agents so that they could identify themselves to fellow agents in the field, the code was changed regularly by the secret keeper.

In the accounting department she was placed on the payroll, she would be paid as an apprentice even while she attended Hogwarts, and, because her training took place there, her tuition at Hogwarts would be paid by the Ministry. She was also issued an enchanted leather money pouch. This was the traditional wizarding equivalent of an ATM. When the issued witch or wizard needed money for a legitimate business expense, the amount appeared in the money pouch, up to a preset limit. The pouch only worked for the issued party, and was empty unless needed. Though they were still issued by custom, the old money pouch was fast being replaced by the muggle style credit card even in the magical world. However, there was still the need at times to have gold coins in your hand.

The first day’s classes focused on orientation to the duties of the Inquisition and its importance to the Ministry. Hermione learned her training schedule for the coming semester. It was an intensive program that was designed to strengthen her physically and mentally, while greatly broadening her range of magical skills. Of particular concern was mental training to enter the minds of others while closing your own. She found she would be taught fighting and dueling skills, offensive and defensive. She would receive apparition lessons, advanced potions making, and how to perform the dark arts and use normally forbidden curses to enslave, torture, and kill others.

The training included more than just learning curses and moves. It included a strong regimen in the type of book learning that Hermione adored. She would learn magical law and interrogation procedures. There was an intense course in criminal psychology focusing on convincing the suspect that resistance is utterly futile, and to submit rather than face torment.

By the end of her first week, Hermione had already impressed all of her tutors with her grasp of the new curriculum. They unanimously recommended to Madam Hooch that Hermione be allowed to forego returning to Hogwarts for a seventh year and just stay in the Ministry program. Rolanda Hooch offered Hermione the option, but Hermione declined. She knew that Harry would need her. She could and would do her final year at Hogwarts and then become a fulltime Inquisitor.

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The room was still in shadows when Harry awoke. His eyes were closed to savor the afterglow, the pleasurable feeling that lingered in him from last night’s sex. There was an indescribable feeling of satisfaction that can remain for some time in a man after a particularly good orgasm. Maybe it was just the lightly resounding echo of last night’s emotional shout of manly victory at having gotten laid. Whatever it was it felt damned good.

A brief fear then hit Harry that maybe it was just another dream, maybe he was still at the Dursley’s. He sat up in bed and reached for his glasses to put the room into focus. He was relieved to find that he was exactly where he wanted to be, naked, in bed, in the first floor bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place. Yes, it had all been real. He was an adult wizard, he could do magic as it pleased him to, he had his own house where he could do as he pleased, and he had a kickass girlfriend whom he was shagging. The only sad thought in his mind was what would Ginny say when she found out Harry was sleeping with Tonks. They had never really had an understanding for the future. Officially, they had broken up before leaving Hogwarts, even though Harry had only done it to protect Ginny from becoming a target of the Death Eaters. The thought of her troubled Harry, he really did care for her, but she was elsewhere and Tonks was here.

Harry went into the bathroom to urinate, and then decided to look for Tonks. Harry was starkers, but what the hell; it was his bleeding house wasn’t it? As he reached the den he heard her in the kitchen humming a light little tune to herself, he also heard the clipping of high heels across the wooden floor. Entering the kitchen he saw her there smiling at him while wearing sexy sandals, a thong, and a see through apron that clearly showed the owner’s beautiful body underneath. She was very sexy looking, and the look in her eyes told Harry she had dressed this way just for him to admire.

She took the apron off and crossed the floor to Harry. There she put her arms around him, pressed her body against his, and raised her knee to where it gently rubbed against Harry’s testicles. She kissed him deeply. The stimulation was intense and made Harry’s whole body quiver. She held him that way for a good 10 seconds before she stepped back and spoke.

“How are you doing, Lover?” she asked. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you.” he replied. “Only I was afraid when I woke up that it was all a dream.”

“Nope, all real I’m afraid. You’re really here, I’m really here, and we really hopped in the sack and fucked like garden gnomes last night. You naughty boy, you used your manly charms and sympathetic pleas to seduce me. I just hope you can live with yourself after taking advantage of my innocence and naiveté.”

Harry smiled at the act; he knew damn well that when the head of his little pecker had pushed through Tonks’ bush into the ‘promised land’ last night it was nowhere near being a trailblazer. It was traveling a well-marked highway that a good many others had already traveled. That didn’t matter to Harry. He didn’t care how many other men she had been with before last night. What was important was that last night she was with him, and that he very badly wanted her to do it again tonight.

Harry looked deep into her pretty eyes, all he could think to mutter was, “Thank you, Tonks. I’ll never forget you.” He knew it was not a very eloquent statement, but it was a sincere one. The look in Tonks’ eyes showed that she also believed it was sincere.

“I know, Love,” she said. “No matter how many women you have sex with from now on, you’ll always remember last night with me. That’s one reason why I wanted to be there when you left last night. So I could get you here and have you for myself, that’s why the others left us alone.”

“What others?” asked Harry.

“Oh, come on, Harry! You didn’t really think the Order would take a chance on having a Death Eater attack you out there. It wasn’t just me; there were reinforcements nearby, but out of sight.”

“Who knows about last night?” Harry asked. The last thing he needed was for the Daily Prophet to get the story. Knowing that bunch, instead of ‘the Boy Who Lived’ Harry would be re-titled ‘the Boy who got laid’ or some such nonsense. Harry shivered at the thought of it; he didn’t want Ginny to find out that way.

“Just Moody and McGonagall,” she said.

“Professor McGonagall took part in this?” Harry uttered unbelievingly. “She knows I had sex with you!” Harry wasn’t that worried about Moody, but McGonagall had links to Hogwarts and his home house of Gryffindor there.

“Calm down, baby, it’s all right,” Tonks said. “I know old McGonny seems like a straight laced old boot as a teacher, but the stories from the oldsters are that in her younger days she gave many a young stallion the mattress ride of his life.”

The mental image of Professor McGonagall having sex with anyone was too insane for Harry’s mind to contemplate. He had never thought of her as having those parts, much less the desire to use them.

“I have something I want show you before breakfast,” Tonks said.

She gently pushed Harry back into the den to the couch they had sat on last night. Tonks slipped her one of her heels behind Harry’s ankle and with a push tripped him back onto the cushions. Taking a cushion from the nearby matching chair, Tonks dropped it on the floor and knelt in front of Harry. A wet cloth appeared magically in Tonks’ hand and she proceeded to gently clean Harry’s cock. When that was done, Tonks cupped Harry’s balls in one hand and put a thumb and forefinger around the base of his dick.

“It’s still your birthday, Harry, and I remember you telling me about how your fatarse cousin used to get a whole bunch of presents on his birthday. Here’s an extra present for you.”

With that, Tonks took Harry’s dick in her mouth and began giving him a blowjob. The sensation was incredible as her tongue flicked around the head of his cock, and her lips slid over the shaft. Harry was taken completely by surprise, despite this he was still able to hold himself a little longer than he had the night before. When he came it was with the same explosion of pleasure as he had felt the night before.

When the spasms of ejaculation from his balls had ended he had tears in his eyes. He was helpless as a baby; his body seemed unable to move. He heard the clicking of the high heels as Tonks stood up. With a finger, she delicately traced a line around the perimeter of her lips collecting the stray cum that had splattered there. When done she stuck the finger in her mouth and licked it clean. She laughed at the expression on Harry’s face and winked. Harry closed his eyes and heard the heels clicking away towards the kitchen.

“Not bad, but I’m still hungry! How ‘bouts I fix us up some pancakes for breakfast?” she said. Harry was too exhausted to answer.

Tonks was as good a cook as she was a lover. Of course, Harry really didn’t have a comparison for the lover part, and only Aunt Petunia for the cook part. At this point Harry didn’t care. She was great in both categories to him.

The rest of the morning went fairly uneventfully. Harry found his trunk and other gear was located in the master bedroom, having been deposited there by Kreacher. Kreacher was the grumpy prat of a house elf that lived at Grimmauld Place. His mind had been poisoned against anything but purebloods by his former Mistress, who had been Sirius Black’s mum. Harry mostly tried to ignore him and just give orders of what jobs to do around the house. Harry unpacked his trunk and set out his clothes and personal items.

Hedwig returned from hunting and was given the run of the house. The owl was pleased not to be locked in her cage again, the Dursleys had always required the bird to stay cooped up in the cage when at their house. Harry explained to his friend that those days were now over; they’d never see the muggles again. Hedwig seemed overjoyed.

Tonks left Harry alone for a while as she said she had some business to perform. A little after midday Harry had a quick sandwich and heard Tonks call to him from the living room as she returned to Grimmauld Place.

“Harry, get your traveling clothes on,” she said. “We’re going to make a few trips offsite.”

“Where are we going?” asked Harry.

“First of all we are going to St. Mungo’s to visit an optometrist,” said Tonks. “We need to get you out of those stupid specs. You are at a dangerous disadvantage in a fight when a simple fall that causes you to lose your glasses can leave you virtually blinded.”

“Well I’ve kinda gotten used to them,” started Harry.

“Harry — listen to me,” said Tonks. “Name me one other student at Hogwarts who wears glasses? Do you think every witch and wizard in Britain except you was born with perfect eyesight? I don’t think so!”

“Dumbledore and McGonagall wear glasses.”

“Yeah, a fag and a dodgy old fart. Do you think they wear them because they have to, or maybe because it makes them look wise or something? Harry you’re a bloody wizard now, act like it.”

Harry thought about it a bit, and it did finally register on him that he hadn’t seen any other kids wearing glasses at Hogwarts. Just him. The glasses were a pain in the arse at times, such as broom flying in rainy weather. In addition, it was true that having them fall off in the Chamber of Secrets had nearly gotten him eaten by a bloody big snake. The glasses were mostly a legacy of the damned Dursleys anyway. The school had made them correct his eyesight, the used glasses were the cheapest way out they had.

“All right then,” said Harry. “What do we do about the glasses?”

“We get your eyesight corrected to 20-20,” said Tonks. “It’s no different then mending a broken bone or other injury. You could have had it done when you were a first year if you had permission from your muggle guardians.”

Harry dressed himself and the two of them disapparated to St. Mungo’s where Harry found he already had an appointment that had been set up earlier by Tonks. In less than an hour Harry Potter’s trademark glasses were gone, and his vision was perfect. Harry was told that he should have an appointment every year to make minor corrections as needed, and released. It was a different world to Harry as he walked the streets of London able to see clearly without the glasses frame on his face. The old frames he tossed into the first rubbish bin they passed. This was going to be brilliant.

The pair then went shopping for some stylish casual clothing for Harry in the muggle shops. “I don’t have any muggle money, Tonks,” whispered Harry.

“Neither do most of the muggles nowadays, Harry,” she replied as she handed him a credit card. “Here, this rightfully belongs to you. Just touch your wand to it to activate it.”

Harry looked the card over in his hands. It looked like a regular muggle credit card that he had seen the Dursley’s use, only this had the bank name as Gringotts. The account name on the card was listed as N. TONKS, at Tonks’ insistence Harry tapped the card with his wand. The name promptly changed to H. POTTER.

“Dumbledore gave me the card as an emergency fund in case something happened to him,” said Tonks. “The money was drawn from your account after he died. I’ve used the card only a few times for modest purchases I needed. Now it’s all yours. I hope you are not angry.”

“No, it’s all right,” said Harry. “How much can I buy with the card?”

“Apparently anything you want, you must have a shitload of gold stored somewhere.”

“I have a large stack in my Gringott’s vault in Diagon Alley, but I don’t know how far that would go.”

“Harry, there is more than one branch of Gringotts in Britain, and you may have more than one vault. The historic main branch of Gringotts is still in London, but the largest branch is now in Godric’s Hollow.”

“Why is that?” asked Harry.

“Cause that’s where the bloody money is, Harry! The new financial center of the wizarding world in Britain is Godric’s Hollow, but to a muggle who passes by, it looks like a sleepy little village tucked in the mountains. You have to see it to believe it.”

Harry and Tonks made the rounds of several shops. Harry bought some proper clothes, shoes, and other items. At Harry’s insistence, Tonks also bought some clothing and shoes that she liked. The credit card was accepted without problem. Then there was a trip to Diagon Alley where wizarding supplies were ordered after the muggle clothes had been left at the Sorceress’ shop. All witches and wizards had their muggle made clothing magically altered to change as necessary to always provide a perfect fit for the wearer. They also repaired themselves of minor wear and tear after use. Harry called Kreacher to him in Diagon Alley and ordered him to return their purchases to Grimmauld Place. Harry then carried Tonks out to dinner at her favorite restaurant.

“I’ve never actually been out on a real date with a girl before,” said Harry as he enjoyed the strip steak he had ordered. “It’s pretty nice.”

“Uh hum,” said Tonks. “I bet it’s even nicer to know that she’s a sure thing who’s going to go home with you and get into bed with you too.”

Harry’s face turned red, “Well, I wasn’t trying to take you for granted.”

“I know, Harry. But I want to have sex with you tonight, and wake up beside you in the morning. You’ve been a perfect gentleman, you’ve been kind, attentive, and generous; and you’re young, handsome, and athletic. Why wouldn’t I want to give you some pussy?”

Harry blushed even more, but he had to agree with her. Knowing that he had a sure thing waiting when he got home did make the date more enjoyable. After dinner, he and Tonks strolled through the park. Tonks asked Harry about his life with the Dursleys and Harry related how he had been raised. She was appalled at how they had treated him and even announced she was willing help Harry pay them a visit one night to get revenge for how they had abused them.

Harry told her his own feelings about revenge towards them and she finally agreed with him, they were their own worst punishment. Finally, Harry’s lust got the better of him and the two apparated home. That night Tonks let Harry take the superior position. Even Harry had to admit that he did a much better job that night than the one before because he wasn’t as anxious around Tonks. The sex came much easier, and he enjoyed his climax more. With her head laying on his chest and his arms around her, Harry drifted off to sleep after a very busy and exciting best birthday ever.

The next morning as he awoke, Harry fumbled around on the bedside table for a minute looking for his glasses before he remembered that he could see now without the damned things. Tonks was already up and preparing breakfast. After breakfast, he decided to investigate the old Grimmauld house now that he owned it. He had only seen part of it before when he had been here. Most of the place was a mess. It would require a great deal of time and effort to make the place homey. Harry found the doorway to the old carriage house, now a garage. Inside he found an old model Triumph motorcycle under a tarpaulin cover. Harry remembered that Hagrid had told him once about an enchanted motorbike that had belonged to Sirius and that he had ridden everywhere. The bike could fly just like the Weasley’s old Ford Anglia could. When Tonks came by later looking for Harry she found him there with the bike.

“That’s the bike that Sirius used to have, when I was little he carried me out for a ride with him,” she said. “It can roll on the road like a regular bike, but it can also fly like a broom. When you were only a year old Hagrid used that bike to take you to Privet Lane to meet Dumbledore and be left with the Dursleys.”

“I wonder if it still works,” Harry asked. “I’d love to ride it. I don’t know much about engines but surely we could find someone who knows how to fix it up for riding.”

Tonks walked to the bike and threw a leg across to the other side. With a jump on the kick-starter, the bike roared to life as if it had been last ridden yesterday. The loud roar echoed in the garage hurting Harry’s ears. With a flick of her wrist Tonks cut the motor. “I think it’s all right,” she said. “It’s enchanted; it runs on magic, not petrol.”

“Can we go for a ride?” Harry asked.

“Not right now, Love, too many muggle eyes about right now. Maybe tonight right after dark. We can drive it out the back and when we hit an open stretch of road see if we can get it in the air. We might even go see my Cousin Molly.”

“Where does she live?” Harry asked.

“You know where she lives, Harry, the Burrow, you’ve been there before. Arthur and Molly Weasley are my cousins by intermarriage,” Tonks answered. “Remember I told you that my Mum was Andromeda Black. She rejected the family pureblood bullshit and was exiled from the family for it, just like cousin Sirius was for not having the proper pureblood attitudes towards others, especially muggles. Sirius was taken in by your grandparents and raised as a brother to your dad; my mum was taken in and raised in the same manner by the Weasley’s.”

“You’re related to just about everybody, aren’t you?” asked Harry.

“Harry, didn’t Sirius tell you that all the old wizarding families were intermarried to the point that everyone was related to everyone else in some way or another. On my mother’s side, I was related to the Black’s, so I’m related to Ron and Ginny through that link. Remember me telling about getting the boots from my Gran, her full name is Cedrella Black Weasley and she is Ginny’s grandmother too. Ginny came to stay with her grandmother during the summers when I stayed there too. I’ve known them all my life. And by the way, if you had carefully examined the family tree in the front room you would see that your paternal great-grandmother was Dorea Black.”

Fear came over Harry at the thought of Tonks talking to Ginny about what they had done, or even having her know that Harry was shacking up in the same house all alone with her.

Tonks looked at him and seemed to know the thought racing through his mind. “Harry, we need to have a serious talk before we go anywhere.”

“Talk about what?” asked Harry.

“Talk about what your having sex with me last night really means. Is that serious enough for you?”

Tonks and Harry went into the living room and sat on the couch. Harry wasn’t sure what was about to happen. Tonks gently took his hand and held it as she spoke.

“Harry, the Weasleys already know that you are here. They’ve been told that you are being protected by Moody, McGonny, and me. They don’t know that you’re here alone with me. Harry, I agreed to have sex with you for several reasons, the first, and most important being that I really do like and respect you as a man. I wanted to be your first. The second reason is that the final battle with Voldemort will soon arrive, and although you are just now learning it, you are already in training for the fight.

“According to the prophesy you are our best hope of defeating Voldemort. The stronger you are, and the more confident you are, the better your chances of defeating him. I wanted you to have confidence in your manhood; it’s a job I volunteered for quite willingly. But I’m not a lifetime enlistee, I’ve always been a free agent and I will continue to be. So I hope you are not wondering how to explain to Ginny that you’ve found a new lover. You haven’t, just consider me a summer fling.”

“So this is just a short term affair?” asked Harry.

“Fraid so, Sugar, but just because it’s short doesn’t mean it can’t be real while its here. I enjoyed last night, I enjoyed yesterday morning. I hope you can understand that, and accept it for what it is. I just could never be with any one guy very long, I guess I’m just not made that way. You know when I was a young girl all my schoolmates talked about getting married, having children, even getting old. I never did. I never saw myself with a husband or children who called me mummy, or even as an old woman. I just knew deep down that those things were never fated to be mine. Maybe that’s my prophesy, I don’t know.

“So accept me as I am, accept that the sex we are having is just good fun between good mates for a lark. That way when it’s over there are no regrets or recriminations, we are still friends and comrades fighting on the same side. I know about you and Ginny, and I would never ruin that for you. She’s a good girl and she is the type that can care about you for the long term, and can give you what you really want.”

“What is it I really want?” asked Harry.

“Harry, you want back what Voldemort really took from you that night, a family. You want a good woman who’ll love you all her life, and a house full of children who call you daddy. You want aunts, uncles, grandmums, cousins, the whole works, and you desperately want to be left in peace to enjoy them. Ginny can give you that, I think the reason that you feel so deeply for her is because she does have such a large family that you can be a part of. You know I could never be a housewitch and Quidditch mum to a pack of little green-eyed ankle biters all named Potter. That life was never meant for me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it won’t happen.”

Harry spent the rest of the evening wandering about the house, thinking over what Tonks had told him. She was right, he wanted a family; he was so damned tired of being all alone in the world. His mind wandered off thinking about bringing Ginny here as his wife, hearing their children running through the hallways playing and laughing, knowing that Voldemort was gone forever and they were safe from harm. Harry caught himself standing there crying before he snapped out of it. If he wanted those things, and he did, then it was up to him to make it happen. He had been robbed of his parents, he’d had his godfather taken from him, and now even Dumbledore was gone. Harry vowed to himself that he would learn how to protect what was his, and he resigned himself to doing what he had to do to make it happen.

As it got dark, Harry and Tonks dressed for their trip to the Burrow to visit the Weasleys. Harry wore a pullover top, jeans, and trainers with a heavy windbreaker. Tonks had on straight leg jeans that tucked into her boots and a leather jacket over a light blue silk blouse. Harry thought to himself how beautiful she looked, but this was tempered by the knowledge he was about to see Ginny for the first time since her brother’s funeral.

Bill’s death at the hands of the Death Eaters, and the funeral had been a terrible ordeal. Mrs. Weasley’s greatest fear was that her children would die in the upcoming war, now one already had. She had been beside herself with grief and fear for her six remaining children. Ginny had been in a state of shock. Big brother Bill had been almost a second father to her. She loved all her brothers, even Percy who had become a suckarse to Cornelius Fudge, but Bill had been special to her. During the funeral, she had looked Harry’s way a couple of times, but had made no movement to come to him. Almost as bad as Mrs. Weasley’s grief had been that of Bill’s fiancé, Fleur Delacour. Harry had known Fleur from the Triwizard Tournament, she was part Veela and very beautiful.

Before leaving Grimmauld Place, Harry called Kreacher and instructed him to clean the rooms being used on the first floor. Going to the garage Tonks threw a leg over the big motorcycle and deftly kickstarted the engine. It purred to life as if it was more than ready to leave its prison cell of many years. Tonks put on a pair of goggles and threw a second pair to Harry.

“Let’s go, Love,” she said. The prospect of a road trip perked her up immensely. The old Black house wasn’t bad for a hideout, but it was damned depressing to just stay there. Harry mounted and settled in. Tonks opened the garage doors with a wave of her wand, and they roared off into the night.

Tonks kept the bike on the road at first and accelerated to a speed on the motorway well above the posted speed limit. Harry was hanging on for dear life as the motorbike raced through the darkness and evening traffic. Harry had a flashback of the times he had ridden in the car with Uncle Vernon driving and screaming at motorcycle riders to wish them a painful death in the roadway. Still, Tonks seemed totally unconcerned, as if she was waiting for something to happen before she let the bike do its stuff.

A short way outside Surrey, Harry saw the vague outline of a police car beside the motorway operating a speed trap. Instead of slowing down, Tonks actually seemed to gun the engine as she passed them. In seconds, Harry could see the reflection of blue lights as the police tried to give chase.

“Grab my waist, Harry,” Tonks yelled back, “and hang on to your arse!”

Harry tightened his grip on her and it felt reassuring to be touching her. With that, Tonks accelerated to over 100 miles per hour. The police car had sped up on the lightly traveled roadway to try and catch them, but was still falling back. Up ahead Harry saw where the motorway curved to the left, the outside of the curve opened onto a wheatfield.

“Get ready, we’re about to go airborne!” Tonks yelled over her shoulder,

Harry was scared shitless at this point as Tonks was making no attempt to slow down or to navigate the curve; she was headed straight into the farmer’s field at very high speed. Moments before they ran out of pavement Tonks switched off the headlamp and the bike gave a lurch and angled up at about a 45-degree angle. They were flying.

When they were several hundred feet in the air Tonks gently guided the bike to move parallel to the motorway. Below they could see the policecar that had been chasing them still in hot pursuit on the motorway with its flashing blue lights. Apparently, they had not seen the bike leave the road. In the distance, Harry could see another policecar setting up a roadblock at the next exit.

Harry could hear Tonks laughing wildly. “I’d love to hear those silly muggle cocksuckers try to explain this one to their superiors. They’ll spend the rest of the night searching for us.”

“Tonks, what if the Ministry hears about this?” Harry asked. “Will we get in trouble?”

“Sod the Ministry!” Tonks shouted over the sound of the engine. “That bunch of limpdick martinets. Anyway, as long as we don’t actually hurt any muggles they don’t care that much. You’re a grown wizard now, Harry; what good is it to have magical powers if you don’t use them to jerk the muggles around now and then?”

Harry couldn’t disagree with that logic. He found that he enjoyed air travel more than road, but he liked his broomstick better than the bike, although he understood the utility of the bike in passing among muggles. As she got used to the bike Tonks became more daring in her flying, taking the bike into dips and spins. At one point she had the bike nearly on its side. Harry literally hung on for dear life. The trip began to remind Harry of the time he and Ron had stolen Mr. Weasley’s Ford Anglia to drive to Hogwarts. Ron had damn near killed him with his driving. Before tonight’s trip began, Harry had dreaded seeing the village of Ottery St. Catchpole come into view, but now that it was, it was a blessed relief.

Just outside of the village lay the Burrow, the Weasley family home. Tonks neatly landed the bike at full throttle and coasted up to the Weasley’s front door. By the time Tonks had cut the engine the Weasleys were in the yard to greet them. They exchanged greetings with Harry getting a hug from Ginny that stirred Harry in a place he didn’t want to be stirred at that time. The event did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. Ron, Fred and George were standing there with their mouths open, staring between Harry, Ginny, Tonks, and the motorbike. Mr. Weasley, who was fascinated by enchanted muggle artifacts, had his interest peaked by the bike. He rushed forward to check it out more closely.

“Arthur,” said Mrs. Weasley. “There’ll be plenty of time to look at that later.” Everyone was herded into the house and to the table where a delicious meal awaited. The piece de resistance was a beautiful birthday cake for Harry to celebrate his coming of age.

Everyone seemed to think that losing the glasses was an improvement, especially Ginny. After the meal was over Mrs. Weasley cleared the table with a wave of her wand. It was plain to see on her face how badly the loss of her eldest son had been. Her greatest fear had come true for her first born. Her desire now was to not lose any more of her children. Herself she would sacrifice, but not them. Arthur tried to put forward the brave face for the family; he had spent the last few weeks trying to lose his own sorrow in his work. That provided him with some solace, but the loneliness of his absence made it worse on Molly. The children saw the stress on their parents and dealt with the loss in their own ways.

The family carried on as though it was coping with the loss, but it was plain to see that the death had rippled through the fabric of the family. Harry had always envied Ron his large family. It seemed like he was connected somehow to everybody in the wizarding community, while Harry had no one he could call family. Now it seemed to Harry that at times like this it might be an advantage to be alone in the world. Loving someone brought joy, but loss of that loved one meant terrible pain. Harry had already felt that with Sirius and Dumbledore.

The Weasleys gathered around Tonks to hear the latest news while Ginny took Harry by the hand to show him the garden. Harry saw the troubled look on Molly Weasley’s face as she watched them step out the side door towards the garden. Molly purposely avoided meeting Harry’s gaze, something she had never done before.

“Harry, I miss you so much it hurts sometimes,” Ginny said when they were far enough away from the house not to be overheard. “I wish I could be with you, but you know my parents won’t allow it. Mum was always overprotective of us, but since losing Bill, she’s given a whole new meaning to being anal in that category. She knows how I feel about you, it seems some of the Hogwarts students told their mums about us, and she found out from them through their old hen’s network. She still likes you, Harry, but she’s scared. She doesn’t even want Ron to be mates with you.”

“I’m surprised that she even let you slip out alone with me like this,” said Harry.

“She thinks I’m giving you the brush off out here,” said Ginny. “I promised her I’d tell you that I don’t care to see you anymore. That’s the only way she’d consent to let me go back to Hogwarts this year. I’ve got a whole other year until I’m 17. Until then I must obey her.

“She’s already tried to bully Ron into shunning you. She told him if he didn’t promise to do it he couldn’t go back, and he told her he was of age and would go on his own whether she liked it or not. Then she said he’d get no family money, so he’s supposed to be working for Fred and George at their shops for the money, actually they’ve spotting him whatever he needs so he can be there to help back you.”

“How do you really feel?” Harry asked Ginny.

“I think you know how I feel about you, Harry. I’ve loved you in secret since I first saw you at the train station that day. I had dreams about you that first night. Dreams like I had never had about anyone else before. I imagined myself snogging a boy who I’d only seen once, and never really even talked to.

“I don’t have anything to offer a guy, Harry. We Weasleys are poor as church mice, everybody knows that. There are plenty out there that mock us because of it. But we come from good solid wizarding stock, and love of family means more than love of gold. If you’ll have me and you’re willing to wait another year then I’m your girl. I think Dad and everyone else would approve us together right now. Hell, Mum was three months pregnant with Bill when she and dad finally married. But Dad’s more fragile than he lets on; he’s not going against Mum.”

“Ginny, my feelings are the same,” said Harry. “I understand that we need to maintain some sort of charade, both to calm your mum’s fears and because her fears are real. I do have enemies. I want you to be with me at Hogwarts this year, but I want you safe most of all. I have a battle I am fated to fight, there’s no way out for me; and the prophesy doesn’t say that I’ll win. Only that one or the other will not survive. My die is already cast, yours isn’t. I’m willing to wait for you, I just don’t know that I’ll be alive that long.”

Ginny looked into Harry’s eyes and Harry saw a glint of something he’d never seen there before, an intense cold hatred. She kept her voice even and steady as she spoke, but Harry felt a sense of power, real power, coming from her. “Harry, Voldemort and his bastards have murdered my brother Bill, they’ve tried to kill me, they’ve tried to kill my father, and they’ve made my mother a frightened shell of the loving person she used to be. Beyond that, they’ve spit upon my whole family as traitors. Fred, George, Ron, and I have talked about this, Harry; we are already in this fight with you all the way up to the bloody hilt. We will fight at your side against these motherfuckers, and we do not intend to take prisoners at the end. They are going to die for what they’ve done. No more Ministry bullshit about Imperious curses, no more chances to redeem themselves, no pureblood family politics, just fear, pain, and death.

“I wish I could come home with you now and keep you company. I know it must be awful lonesome there with all those empty bedrooms. But you have Moody there, and Professor McGonagall, and, of course, dear cousin Tonks is there too. She’s supposed to be good at entertaining guests I’m told.”

There was a knowing smirk on Ginny’s face that caused Harry’s rectum to tighten up painfully. “She knows,” thought Harry. “She knows I’m sleeping with Tonks.”

“Well… yeah…,” muttered Harry. “It gets kinda lonesome in that big house; usually it’s just me there and whoever is on watch. I spend a lot of time working with Kreacher trying to get the place fixed up. Never know when we’ll need a safe place to stay.”

“Well I hear that you’re gonna be getting in a lot of training soon. I hope someday you’ll show me some of what you’ve been learning how to do there. I know I don’t have any experience yet, but I’m willing to become an apt pupil, if you’re willing to teach me.”

“Oh bloody hell, she does know,” thought Harry. But Ginny’s tone indicating that maybe she didn’t mind that Harry was getting in some experience wasn’t completely lost on Harry.

They talked a while longer about what Ginny had done since leaving Hogwarts, but the conversation was hampered by their real feelings. Harry had officially broken up with Ginny to protect her. If Voldemort knew his real feelings for her then she could be used as a weapon against him. Ginny had been willing to chance the risk, but not Harry.

They heard the bike roar to life as Tonks took Mr. Weasley for a short spin on the bike. He returned babbling like a two year old about the experience. Fred and George managed to corner Harry long enough to tell him the latest news about the novelty shop they owned in which Harry was secretly a silent partner.

“We’ve set up a new shop in Godric’s Hollow in the main mall,” said George. “It’s not cheap to do business there, but it’s worth it. There’s plenty of customers cause people feel more secure there than in Diagon Alley. Ron’s managing the old Diagon Alley shop for the summer to let us get the new shop established. We have an arrangement with Gringotts. The Goblins are tied in to most of the businesses there. You try to do business there without greasing the right palms first, and you’ll get a visit from some of their private security consultants. Then it’s a trip to St. Mungo’s for you, my lad, for some reconstructive magic. I hear they can do wonders growing new knee joints now with Skele-Gro, still painful as hell though.”

“Oy, especially if you’re arsing around up on the hill,” added Fred.

“What’s on the hill?” asked Harry.

“That’s where the big money maker wizard resorts are,” replied George. “Casinos, hotels, nightclubs, pubs, and if you slip out around the Twist they even a bloody great house of ill repute! They’ve got everything for sale or lease there; you can do anything you can afford. All it takes is the right amount of gold jingling in your purse. It’s like the wizard version of Las Vegas or Monte Carlo in Britain. You get off the Hill and it’s mostly just shops and homes and regular such stuff you find elsewhere.”

“What’s the Twist?” asked Harry.

“The far end of the Hill,” answered George, “it’s where the bloody red light district is located, you can drink, whore and indulge whatever perversion you desire, provided your pockets are filled.”

“Yeah,” said Fred, then he lowered his voice to make sure Mrs. Weasley didn’t hear him. “We’ve even been over there to try out the big fancy knocking shop a few times. Totally wicked! You have to go by there now that you’re of age. We’ve only been on the first floor though. We’ve tried getting to the second floor. Bugger all luck so far, but tell them who you are, your name might get you in.”

“What happens on the second floor?” Harry asked.

“All your naughtiest dreams come true, my lad,” said George with a huge grin. “Absolute sexual ecstasy is yours. It’s guaranteed that you’ll find the girl of your dreams there.”

“Oy, or boy, animal, or creature if that’s what you want. If you can imagine it you can live it,” said Fred. “Magic at its best usage.”

“Oh, yeah, Harry,” said George. “We even saw your Mum and Dad’s graves there, you know that’s where they were killed.”

Harry had known that his parents were killed there since his first year at Hogwarts. Before that, the Dursleys had never allowed the subject of Harry’s parents to be raised. He had simply been told they were killed in a car crash and nothing more was known about it. Harry had wondered about the place and had assumed it was just a quiet little English village, not a place like the one the twins were describing.

“Well then I may try to go there a bit before term starts next month,” said Harry. “It sounds like an interesting place to visit.”

“Oh it is, but watch your arse if you go around the Twist,” warned Fred. “It’s a bloody damned dangerous place to be too.”

“I guess there are a lot of criminals with all that gold floating around, eh?” asked Harry.

“Oh, yeah,” answered George. “There are some as get waylaid and robbed every night. Murder isn’t an uncommon thing, or for someone to simply go missing. The clubs and casinos have their own security who don’t want bad publicity, but over in the Twist they don’t worry about that, so they have no problem with using a heavy hand to deal with troublemakers.”

“Don’t they have a police force there to handle that?”

“Sure they do,” said Fred. “But they’re often worse than the criminals. The coppers there work mostly for the bordello owners and the goblins. They will beat the shit out of you at the drop of a hat, and you’ll wake up, if you do wake up, in a stone cell.”

After a round of farewells and hugs, the duo remounted the motorbike and set out to return to Grimmauld Place. The ride back from the Weasley’s was slightly more enjoyable than the ride over. Tonks was less inclined to show off on the bike. Harry still preferred the broomstick for flying. For one thing, it was quiet when you flew; you could enjoy the world around you. It seemed to Harry that the noise of the bike drew unnecessary attention to you, while possibly masking the sound of an approaching enemy. Still, if you intended to mingle with magi and muggles you needed transportation that fit both worlds. Sirius’ bike accomplished this.

Arriving home Harry and Tonks went to the living room. Both were a bit depressed over the state of Molly Weasley and the effect it was having on the family. Arthur had been trying to convince Molly to take a summer holiday with him for several weeks now, just the two of them. Molly would not hear of leaving Ginny alone in the burrow, so Tonks had suggested that Molly send Ginny to stay with her Gran. That way Molly and Arthur could take some time off and Ginny could get over her ‘breakup’ with Harry.

Apparently, Tonks and Ginny were in cahoots on this with Gran. Agreements had already been arranged, and once she was at Gran’s then Ginny would start learning spells from the old enchantress that definitely weren’t on the Hogwart’s curriculum. Tonks had told Molly that Ginny would soon have to make her own way in the world. As for protection, who could possibly keep her safer than Gran? The combination of arguments had apparently won Molly over, she’d reluctantly agreed to ‘think about it’ overnight. That was virtually the same as agreeing to it.

Tired after the long evening Harry and Tonks decided to retire for the evening to their separate rooms. Going into the bedroom hallway, they found Kreacher wandering around the hallway acting his usual contrary self. Kreacher was performing the tasks he had been assigned, but at the slowest rate possible. He had straightened up the master bedroom and other rooms, but had not touched Tonks’ room.

“Kreacher, why is Mistress Tonks’ room not ready yet?” asked Harry. “You’ve had sufficient time to have finished cleaning all the downstairs rooms we’ve been using.”

“When Master said to clean the rooms being used on first floor, Kreacher assumed Master meant the rooms he was using, not those used by Master’s whore,” said Kreacher. “Kreacher did not consider the shamed area of the noble house of Black where Master’s whore slept to be included in Master’s instructions.”

Harry’s anger flared. “Kreacher you will not insult my guest. Besides Mistress Tonks IS a descendent of the noble house of Black.”

“Mistress Tonks is a disgraced member of the noble house of Black,” said Kreacher. “Is it not a fact that her entire line was removed from the family tapestry?”

Harry stepped towards Kreacher with the intent of having him stand in the corner and squeeze his own balls as hard as he could all night. Harry had made Kreacher do that to himself once before at Hogwarts for an hour after some smart mouth statements. Kreacher had complied as he must, but as soon as Harry ordered him to stop, Kreacher went unconscious from the pain. It had taken him about a week to start walking straight again.

Harry felt Tonks’ hand on his arm. “No, please don’t, Harry, may I try to reason with Kreacher?”

“Reasoning doesn’t work with Kreacher,” Harry replied.

“I think I know a better way to reach Kreacher than others have tried,” she said. “Please order Kreacher to accompany me and obey me.” Harry was still a bit doubtful, but did as Tonks asked and ordered Kreacher to obey Tonks.

Tonks went to Kreacher, who now eyed her with fearful suspicion. She gently took Kreacher by the hand and slowly led him to the great parlor room with the Black family tree tapestry on the walls, as well as all the magical portraits of the Black family members who were now dead. Harry followed to see what Tonks intended to do. Once in the parlor, she pulled back the curtain that covered the portrait of Sirius’ mother, whom Kreacher had served for many years. Mrs. Black was quietly dozing in her portrait. Great care was taken to avoid awakening her as she started screaming when awake.

“Kreacher, here are all the great wizards and witches of the noble family of Black whom you have served for so long,” she said quietly. She led Kreacher to the middle of the room facing the portrait of Mrs. Black. “Here is the great Mistress you served faithfully for so many years —where are your manners, Kreacher? Bow to your noble Mistress.”

Responding instinctively, Kreacher made a formal bow to the portrait, his forehead nearly touching the floor. It wasn’t until he heard the heel of Tonks’ left boot set firmly onto the carpeting right behind him that he began to suspect that something was wrong. By that point it was way too late. The toe of Tonks’ right boot caught Kreacher right in the sphincter, lifted him into the air, and set him spinning arse over tit.

Harry had had only a moment’s notice of what was about to happen as he had seen Tonks assume a footballer’s kicking stance, and make the classic three step approach to the ball. Which in this case was the crack of Kreacher’s arse. He thought to himself that the poor little fucker won’t even see it coming, but he’ll damn sure feel it going.

“AAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE,” screamed Kreacher as he spun out of control towards the portrait. His scream of pain awoke Mrs. Black who began her own wailing. Both sets of screams were cut short when Kreacher impacted face first into Mrs. Black’s image. She was knocked out of the frame and Kreacher bounced off the canvas and fell to the floor.

He had barely landed when he was picked up by the scruff of the neck by Tonks. “You know what, Kreacher, your great Mistress is dead — she’s gone. She’s not here to help you now. All that’s left of her is a pathetic portrait that sits there and wails. And that’s not all; let’s consider her distinguished husband on the other wall.”

With that, Tonks let go of Kreacher and punted him into the portrait of Mr. Black on the side wall. Having been alerted now, the image of Mr. Black ducked out of the frame before Kreacher slammed into the canvas and fell to the floor like a dropped sack of potatoes. Tonks stepped over and placed the sole of her boot across Kreacher’s throat and stepped down hard enough to cut off the airflow. Kreacher began struggling and choking.

“In fact, all these highbrow pureblood cocksuckers are dead, and the family line is ended. There’s no one left. So that empty wall over there is going to remain empty of Blacks. Lets take a closer look at it, shall we?”

Then Tonks snatched the semi-conscious Kreacher up from the floor, tossed him in the air and gave him a spinning kick that caught him across the back with the sole of her boot, and sent him flying face first into the blank wall. Kreacher hit the wall so hard that a greasy imprint of his body was left in the plaster. When Tonks walked up to him, Kreacher had changed into a trembling, blubbering pile on the floor. In his eyes was a true terror of Tonks.

Tonks stepped on Kreacher’s head with the toe of her boot and pinned it to the floor. The heel of the boot was in front of Kreacher’s eyes and Tonks made a wicked looking razor sharp blade shoot out of the heel. By twisting her foot the blade was brought to rest against Kreacher’s throat. With a slight arch of her foot the blade delicately slid against the wrinkled flesh and drew a thin line of blood that began to slowly drip down the blade to the rug. Harry knew that the traditional method of executing a disloyal or lazy house elf was decapitation.

“Now let’s consider your options, shall we? Kreacher can either come to grips with reality and faithfully serve Harry Potter, his new Master, without all the backtalk and insults, or Kreacher can get his fucking head mounted on the wall. One way or another this bullshit ends tonight. What does Kreacher want?”

“Kreacher wants to serve Master Potter,” Kreacher said painfully between sobs, his eyes never leaving the glittering blade just in front of him.

“In that case Kreacher better shift his arse and prepare Mistresses’ room as he was told to do,” said Tonks in a very no nonsense voice as the blade retracted into the boot heel. “Now move!”

Kreacher painfully rose to his feet and began to slowly shuffle towards the French Style glass doors that led back to the living room while whimpering softly. Displeased with his progress Tonks applied the toe of her boot to his arse again, sending him flying into and through the glass doors, showering broken glass over the floor.

“I SAID MOVE, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” screamed Tonks. “Clean my room and then get your arse back here and clean up the mess you made in this room. If I see even one sliver of glass on that floor in the morning I’ll kick your lazy arse through it again; and make you eat every piece of glass in those doors, shit it out, and then eat it again.”

Harry could hear the quick patter of steps as Kreacher ran back to the living room. He looked over at Tonks who was grinning from ear to ear. “See, Love, all it takes is a willingness to see it from the other person’s viewpoint. You can reason with anyone if you understand them well enough.”

Harry started to say “bollocks” but was afraid that Tonks might start reasoning with him if he did. “You think maybe you were a little rough on him?” asked Harry.

“Harry, there is a reason why elves serve wizards; they are conditioned by their very nature to be doormats for us. They are the born losers of the magical world. You might think I just did a first class job of kicked the shit out of him. However, his great and wonderful former mistress did far worse to him on a regular basis when she was younger, and more agile, just to keep him from thinking about getting out of line with her.

“So now you’re wondering, why then does Kreacher have such a boy-those-were-the-good-ole-days hard-on for the bitch? Because that’s what brings high peer status to an elf. Elvish society respects wizards who dominate them. They view a strong bullying master who brutally punishes his elf servant for minor transgressions as bestowing high rank upon that servant among his own kind. These little cocksuckers get together and trade stories over who beat the shit out of them, and came up with creative, imaginative punishments.”

“They do?” asked an amazed Harry. “Why?”

“Think about it, Harry, any shit-for-brains elf can serve a wizard who fawns over them and treats them like a beloved house pet. However, you have got to be one badass motherfucker of an elf to deal with a hard and demanding master. Frankly, Kreacher only acted the way he did towards you because he thinks he’s working for a pussy. He’ll tell the other elves now about the arsekicking I just gave him and his status will rise. Loser elves like Winky and Dobby may seem happy to you and Hermione, but they are about as welcome as a fart in a perfume shop when they are just around their own kind.”

For the first time Harry saw that Tonks really had reasoned with Kreacher from his point of view. He was reminded that the only times that Kreacher had shown him any respect were the times he had treated him cruelly. Later on, Harry had felt bad for mistreating Kreacher and had tried to ease his conscience by being Kreacher’s friend. Then the bullshit would start all over again. Now he knew why. There really were winners and losers in the world.

“What do you suggest I do next time he’s insolent or slow. I’ve already had him stand in the corner and squeeze his balls until he passed out a couple of times. Sirius had mentioned that as an old standby remedy.”

“We can make a day trip sometime to a book store in Diagon Alley,” said Tonks. “They are sure to have something you can use. The main idea is to be creative with your cruelty so it doesn’t become a boring chore and you forget to do it regularly.”

Harry mused on this newfound insight. It seemed to go against most of the principles he had been taught, but if the elves really liked it that way who was he to rock the boat? Moreover, he was tired of punishing Kreacher and having guilt trips afterward.

“I suppose you’re right,” said Harry. “A little reading up on the subject should help me to develop my own style of kicking their arses.”

“That’s the spirit, Harry,” Tonks said. “Oh by the way, Moody is supposed to come by tomorrow and you are going begin a very unofficial, Ministry unapproved, Auror training program. You’ll start by taking a crash course from him in the dark arts magic.”

“So I’ll learn how to defend against dark magic?” said Harry.

“Not just that, Lover,” answered Tonks. “The Jellylegs spell isn’t much good against a Death Eater. You are going to have to learn how fight fire with fire. That means learning dark magic yourself, like the Imperious, Cruciatus and killing curses. You can be sure your enemies know them; and are perfectly willing to use them on you. We also need to work on your apparition skills and a few other useful things.”

“I’ll learn how to kill others then?” asked Harry.

“Harry, you told us that when you were transported by the Triwizard Cup to the Riddle graveyard that Cedric was killed almost immediately by Wormtail. There are probably a dozen curses Wormtail knew of that he could have used to have simply incapacitated Cedric. Voldemort could have accomplished all he intended to do to you without harming Cedric, and he had no particular grievance to seek revenge upon Cedric. They killed him without a second thought because that the way these bastards think. Mercy is not an option; it’s not even a consideration. If you allow a victim to live, it’s because you intend to torture them later, or you need them alive for something. When that need ends, so does their life.

“When it’s kill or be killed, then killing IS the only defense against the dark arts. To be an Auror you have to not only know how to use magic to kill, but be willing to kill. That means killing in the heat of battle without a moment’s hesitation, or to kill an enemy in cold blood, if that’s what is necessary to stop them. The willingness to kill is as much a skill to be developed as the ability to kill. I hope you can understand that.”

“But if an enemy is helpless why kill them?” asked Harry. “We captured Malfoy’s dad and the Inquisition sent him to prison. It wasn’t necessary to kill him, although he probably deserved it.”

“In normal circumstances it’s not necessary to kill,” responded Tonks. “Look at all the Death Eaters who were put in Azkaban after your parents died. They could be punished without killing. But where are those people now? Where are those that were put there in the last years since Voldemort’s return? They returned to serve Voldemort as soon as he was able to free them; now we have to fight them all over again, and take casualties doing so. The only ones who didn’t return to serve him are those that were killed or given the Dementor’s kiss.

“Think about Lucius Malfoy. He was captured after Voldemort’s first fall, but got off; he then nearly killed Ginny and others with Riddle’s diary. He was captured again after the fiasco in the Ministry and actually sentenced that time. Where is he now? Who knows? How many more have to die to stop him next time he turns up?

“Also the situation has changed in that we are not fighting a police action against criminals now, we are in a war. The police have an obligation to accept the surrender of a criminal for the purposes of a trial. A soldier’s obligation in war is to destroy the ability of the enemy to continue the fight. Surrender is a privilege to be granted by the victor, not a right to be demanded by the defeated. We are not in a position where we can take prisoners right now and reliably remove them from the enemy’s service. Sending Lucius Malfoy and his friends to Azkaban was a king-sized fuck up by the Ministry that is going to get some of our friends killed. ”

Harry looked at Tonks and grinned, “So the only good Death Eater is a dead Death Eater, huh?”

“Fuckin A, Harry, hard core,” smiled Tonks back. “Well, I’m ready for bed, but that shitbag elf is still cleaning my room. How bouts we go back to your room and sleep there tonight? Whadda ya say?”

“That sounds good to me.”