Damsel in Distress

"Honestly, where is Harry?" Hermione complained.

"If I didn't have an answer for you the first few times you asked, I'm not going to have one now, am I?" Ron pointed out. "I'm sure he's fine. Maybe he went to write to… You know…"

Neither of them spoke the name out loud here, packed in with so many students around them. Even now, almost a year after his escape and a summer since his terrorizing of the Hogwarts population, Sirius's Black's name wasn't the sort that people ignored.

"But now?" said Hermione. "The notice told all students to be present! That's the whole reason they let us out of classes early!"

"Oh no," said Ron. "A broken rule."

Hermione pursed her lips, turning back to the horizon.

It was cold and growing dark. There was just enough of the afternoon's glow to see by. As the Hogwarts population stood, ordered by age with the first years in front, a jittery atmosphere was palpable. Two schools, full of exotic foreign students, were due to arrive any second, and nobody could wait to see how they would do it.

"Look!" cried a first year standing at the front, pointing up at the sky. "It's a dragon!"

"Can't be," said Dennis Creevey. "That's obviously a flying house."

Ron and Hermione squinted. As the dark blob came closer, its shape distilled into a large square, being drawn through the sky by horses big enough to trample Hagrid.

"A flying carriage!" Ron muttered. "Harry will be sorry he missed that."

"He shouldn't have broken the rules then," said Hermione.

Ron rolled his eyes.

The carriage landed and Beauxbatons filed out, led by their enormous headmistress. Her students shivered behind her as she talked with Dumbledore — Dumbly-door, as she put it — wrapping their arms around their own bodies, huddling in blue silk and nothing else. Only one girl wasn't shaking, and the first boys were beginning to notice her as they lost interest in Madame Maxine's huge size.

"Oh, wow," Ron said. 

Hermione followed his gaze.

"She's pretty," said Hermione.

"Just pretty? It's more than that! Look at the shape of her—"

"Doesn't it seem like she's looking for something?" asked Hermione, stopping Ron's rant in its tracks.

This perfect girl with flowing blond hair was staring intently at the crowd of Hogwarts students. Her blue eyes darted over all of them, hardly pausing anywhere, until they picked out Ron and Hermione. She stared at them for a full fifteen seconds, scanning the places around them, before sniffing and turning her head.

"Did she just look at me?" Ron asked.

"I think so," said Hermione. "Seems she didn't enjoy what she saw."

Within minutes Durmstrang arrived, their boat splitting the water of the lake and sailing up into view. They were dressed much more appropriately for a British winter— if anything, their thick fur coats looked overly warm. There was a lot of excited chatter when Victor Krum was unveiled as a student, including Ron trying (and failing) to make Hermione see how momentous this was.

The sun had fully set by now. The woods were dark, the Durmstrang ship had set down its anchor, and Beauxbatons delegation seemed half frozen, leaving everyone present ready to get back indoors. As the professors were marshalling the crowd, reorienting them back to the castle, one first year girl refused to turn away.

"Dragons!" she yelled, pointing at the horizon.

"Not you again—" someone groaned.

The Beauxbatons' pegasi bolted.

They tore loose from their restraints, snapping them by kicking their hind legs. Their wings beat fiercely the moment they were free, carrying them toward the castle fast enough that the wind knocked over a few first years. Something in the Forbidden Forest howled. Then something above the trees roared.

Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang students alike covered their ears. By the time the brutal sound had passed and the students looked up, they had arrived.

Four full-sized dragons hit the ground at the same moment. The dirt earth shook and bounced. Some students screamed. Others pointed. And some ran, trampling over others on their way.

"Greetings, ladies and gentleman," said a voice that must have been using magic in some way, because it was audible over the roaring dragons and panicking crowd. "Fine night tonight, isn't it? Perfect to prove a point."

Atop the largest dragon's pitch-black head, a figure sat cross-legged, resting one arm on his knee. He wore a mask and flowing, dark robes, looking an awful lot like the wizards that attacked the Quidditch World Cup.

But he wasn't one of those, although he had been on the scene at the time. Hermione gasped.

"That's him!" she said. "The one the Prophet wrote about! He stopped those dark wizards, ranting about Half-blood supremacy!"

She had been speaking to Ron, but just before she spoke an amplification charm struck her, boosting her voice as if it was coming from speakers. Ron watched the man atop the dragon wave his wand, canceling the charm as soon as Hermione was finished.

"Indeed!" He laughed maniacally, although it irritated his throat and made him cough. "It is I," he said once recovered, "Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior!"

He stood up on the dragon, balancing his weight, before taking a running leap off of its head. The dragon, a Hungarian Horntail, extended one arm, allowing Tom to slide down it like a ramp. He landed on the ground with a dull thump, having leapt from the end of a claw large enough to skewer him. He looked back and thanked the dragon with a succession of hisses, causing what students hadn't fled to gasp.

The professors were working desperately to orchestrate an organized retreat, but it was a difficult proposition. Half the kids were panicking and trampling each other as they ran, while the other half were desperate to stay and watch.

"You may be wondering, right now, just why I'm here," said Tom Riddle. "What do I have to gain from bringing my considerable might to bear on a poor, innocent school? It's quite simple. This is just a stage, one fit for my most nefarious announcement."

He paused. On queue, as if they'd done a rehearsal beforehand, all four dragons reared back and spewed out magically-heated flames. Two sent gouts into the air, one hit the lake and caused a plume of steam, and the last spat its flames backward, catching the tops of the Forbidden Forest on fire.

Ron and Hermione had only retreated a short distance. Ron looked to either side, making sure that the younger kids had gotten back. He was just as likely as anyone else to end up dead facing a dragon, but he thought that prior experience might at least make him less likely to freeze up, so he'd stayed close to the front to make sure other students got to safety first.

It left him with an awfully good view of what the masked nutter did next. From the shadows behind him, something bubbled into view and took shape. Slowly, the shadows changed color, revealing what had been hidden away inside.

"Behold!" cried Tom Riddle.

Ron's blood went cold, while his head turned hot.

There was Harry Potter, his best mate.

And he was wrapped in chains.

O-O-O

"This is demeaning," said Death.

"Keep your voice down!" Harry whispered urgently. "They'll hear you." He turned to the assembled crowd, away from his restrained doppelganger, and looked at the collection of expressions ranging from awed to fearful. "To tell the truth, I already have what I came here for!"

He waited a moment for dramatic effect, then carried on.

"The Boy Who Lived! The Half-blood that overcame the killing curse! His potential is enormous… but it is being wasted, instructed by doddering purebloods! I will make up for your inadequacies myself. I will be taking him, and I will train him into my ultimate weapon… Unless someone steps in to stop me right now!"

He waited, and it seemed as if the whole night waited with him. Unable to help himself, Harry glanced up at the sky, trying not to let his nerves show.

He'd stalled for as long as he could…

So where on earth was Tonks?

He'd promised the dragons this wouldn't take long. He explained the situation to them on the way, and they had been grateful enough for their freedom to play along, but these were not patient creatures. Harry tapped his foot against the ground, hoping no one noticed the nervous tick.

"Let him go!"

Harry beamed as he heard a voice challenge him, although his expression turned confused as he realized this one was clearly masculine. He peered at the crowd in time to see Ron Weasley step forward.

His best friend's hand was shaking, and it wasn't from the cold. But he'd drawn his wand. He was trying to look brave. It wasn't really working, but when you willingly walk toward four adult dragons, it really doesn't matter what you look like doing it.

"You can't have him," Ron said, raising his wand.

Just as quickly, someone pushed his wand back down.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor for outstanding bravery," Albus Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now, you ought to head back to the others, Mr. Weasley. I will handle this."

Ron stared at him, before slowly backing away. Dumbledore turned to Harry— the real one, dressed up in his disguise. Not that the headmaster knew his true identity.

"Don't try to fight me, Headmaster! As a fellow Half-blood—"

Harry was forced to draw his wand as three curses flew at him. He conjured a strengthened Protego, but two of the spells tore through even that. Harry conjured physical shields in the path of the spells, finally stopping them, but one of the shields melted while the other was torn to scrap.

"Hold on—"

Harry's plea was cut short by another round of curses. The ground underneath his feet turned to spongey sand, limiting his movement. Harry's eyes widened.

He hit the ground with an overpowered warming charm, turning the sand Dumbledore created into class, and propelled himself across the surface, out of the way of the curses. One of them hit the Hungarian Horntail in the leg, and even managed to tear away a scale.

"Kill?" the dragon hissed in Parseltongue, pain audible in its voice.

"No!" Harry said. "Just… just give me one second!"

Dumbledore had closed the distance. The old man moved with way more speed and dexterity than should've been possible. As he ran forward, constructs grew out of the ground around him, animated golems lumbering at Harry.

"This really isn't—"

Dumbledore conjured another golem directly behind Harry. It brought a heavy earthen fist down, nearly crushing Harry underneath it. Harry rolled aside, ending up back beside Death, which was watching him curiously.

"Let me finish a sentence!" Harry roared. 

The head of every single Golem exploded, their bodies dissolving on the spot. Dumbledore kept coming. Every spell that left his wand was obscure and deadly. Harry watched each one, drawing his second wand and fighting with both simultaneously. 

It was admirable, really, as frustrated as he felt. He had never seen Dumbledore this way. The only time that came close was when he fought Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries, a duel that ended up at a standstill. So this was how the headmaster reacted when he felt his school was threatened?

"In their memory, I will strike you down," Dumbledore said.

"I haven't killed anyone, though?" Harry said.

They exchanged another chain of spellfire. The professors across the lawn had completely forgotten about evacuating the students, who had themselves forgotten about evacuating. They were mesmerized by the duel in front of them.

"For those who have been lost, I will fight on."

"Again, I really haven't killed anyone!"

"All the times we shared together… Those cozy nights spent in each other's company… I will avenge every last moment here and now!"

The headmaster's wand swished, spitting out a vomit-green spell that caused all grass in the vicinity to wither and die on the spot. Harry didn't even attempt to block it. Instead, he conjured a rope around the Hungarian Horntail's claw, and when the dragon jerked its front leg out of surprise, he was yanked out of the path of the nasty curse.

Still dangling in the air, swaying slightly, Harry asked, "Are you… Are you talking about your chair?"

"Her name was Tiffany," Dumbledore said. "And you will pay."

The old man raised his wand. If Harry let this go on any longer, he was pretty sure the man was going to start throwing around Unforgivables, and he'd really rather not give Lucius Malfoy an actual good reason to get the headmaster arrested.

Still, Dumbledore was a force in his own right, and Harry didn't know how he would deal with him without using lethal force in a fair duel. Which meant it was time for a bit of trickery.

He stowed one Elder Wand, his hand diving into a pocket. When it emerged, it was wrapped around something about the size of a snitch. He gave it an underhand toss, sending the object into the air.

Mid-flight, it grew greatly in size, back to its original dimensions as a faded-yet-comfy armchair, complete with sporadic stains. Dumbledore's jaw fell open.

"Come to me!" he cried, holding out his arms. "I've got you!"

Harry hit the chair in the back with banishing charm, propelling it down to the headmaster far faster than a chair had any right falling.

It didn't quite work as well as he hoped. Even distracted, Dumbledore managed to slow down the chair's descent with a bit of wandless magic. But he refused to move out of the way, and its weight still landed on him, leaving only his legs and arms visible. It looked suspiciously like he was using those arms to hug the chair, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, "Tiffany…"

The important part was that Dumbledore wasn't getting back up for the moment. Harry let go of the rope he'd been hanging from, falling back to the ground. The watching crowd had gone deathly silent after watching Dumbledore 'fall'. 

"Is there anyone else willing to try and stop me?" Harry asked loudly. "Anyone at all?"

He nearly sagged with relief when he heard a broom arriving above him. It was about time. 

Tonks sped in, landing near the chair, not even noticing Dumbledore's legs sticking out from underneath it. She just glared at Harry.

"Return it, now!" she demanded.

"Of course I'll return the Boy Who Lived," Harry said. "That is, if you can defeat me?"

"What are you talking about? I just want my panties back," Tonks said, but her words were buried under the noise of the crowd, who were looking at this lone Auror like their last hope.

Harry swished his cape the way he always saw supervillains doing. "If you want what you came for, then prepare to do battle— Are you alright?"

Harry's declaration ended in a question as he noticed how shaky Tonks's legs were. Her knees were pointing toward each other, while her thighs trembled like they were about to give out.

"I'm fine!" Tonks said. "I didn't discover a new kink! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Ah. Alright, I guess. Like I was saying then! Time to do battle!"

Harry drew both wands. His dragon accomplices took flight. All four of them roared and breathed fire, some narrowly missing the crowd of onlookers. The boldest among them, the Hungarian Horntail, even aimed at the castle, charring the Astronomy tower with its breath.

People were screaming, which was a logical reaction. But Tonks was grinning ear to ear. She watched four dragons rampage above her and raised her wand.

"Stupefy!" she cried.

Harry almost rolled his eyes. Really? Of all spells?

Whatever, he'd work with it. 

He allowed the red beam to come directly at him, blocking at the last second with a shield he purposely made difficult to see, so that it looked to anyone watching as if it hit him. Then all hell broke loose.

Harry stumbled and fell onto his back, his hands going up in the air. A great gout of flames erupted behind him, and unlike what had been spit from the gullet of the dragons, these flames were more pyrotechnics and less raw heat, featuring a variety of pretty shades of red. The dragons roared at once, releasing their loudest cries yet, and scattered, each flying in a different direction.

"Oh no!" Harry announced loudly. "She exploited my one weakness— the most basic spell ever!"

He shouldn't have bothered; nobody was listening to him. The students were looking at the fire show behind him, the professors were looking at the dragons that were now on the loose within Great British borders, and Tonks was too busy getting goosebumps from the feeling of chasing off dragons. She giggled to herself, looking down at her own wand as if seeing it for the very first time.

"You win this time, Tonks!" Harry said weakly. "Next time, however, victory will definitely be mine!"

In the shadow of the bright fire he set off when he fell, Harry's masked body disappeared.

At least, that was what it looked like to anyone watching. What really happened was that the version of Harry Potter tied up in chains melted into shadow, and while everyone was distracted, a new one took its place.

Tonks marched forward while everyone else was too stunned to move, just as the bright sparks faded and died, leaving the night dark once more. In the sudden quiet, you could distantly hear the dragons if you peeled your ears.

"What's your angle?" Tonks asked when she came to a stop in front of Harry, looking down at him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "You saved me, hero!"

Before Tonks could grill him any further, she took note of his state. Harry's shirt was torn in places, showing the wiry muscles underneath. His pants were loose in one corner, giving a view of his hip and the skin around it. His green eyes were wide and soulful as they stared up into hers. Tonks swallowed thickly.

"You can't fool me…" she said weakly.

"I'm so grateful," Harry said. "I was so scared, but then you arrived. What are you going to do with me now, Hero? I'll do anything to reward you."

"Anything?" Tonks asked.

"Absolutely anything. And I know lots of tricks."

Before anyone could react, Tonks had scooped Harry up bridal style. Her face was bright red, though the onlookers couldn't see that.

"I'm taking him in!" she said too loudly. "For questioning!"

Newfound strength surged through her legs as she nearly ran to her broom, hopping on with Harry still held in her arms. They surged off into the sky together, leaving as suddenly as Tonks arrived, Harry perched on the front of her broom like a passenger princess.

Across the lawn, people came to their senses slowly.

"What did we just watch?" Ron asked.

Their Headmaster was still buried beneath a chair, and in places, fires still raged.

"I have no idea," Hermione admitted. "But I'm not going to forget it in a hurry."

"Excuse moi."

The Hogwarts staff turned, finding the perfect blond girl that caught Ron's eye at the start standing in front of them, her arms crossed.

"There has been a casualty," she said.

Behind her, the Beauxbatons carriage was alight. One of the walls collapsed into embers, the roof following suite seconds later.

"The dragons burned it," said the blonde.

Flitwick looked puzzled. "But none of them breathed any fire in that direction—"

"The dragons burned it!" The blond repeated loudly, hiding her wand behind her back. "We will need new accommodations for our stay!"

"We will come up with something," McGonagall promised. "That will, however, need to wait until we have performed a headcount and our headmaster has— Ah, returned to his senses."

The blond smiled, and as beautiful as it was, Ron couldn't shake the impression that she looked downright devious.

"I have a suggestion," she said.

O-O-O

The moment Tonks flew off of Hogwarts grounds, she sidelong Apparated them straight out of the air. Harry was certain one or both of them would end up Splinched, but they arrived with all the important (and even the unimportant) parts intact. Maybe lust had beneficial properties when it came to focusing magic? Perhaps that was the secret to ultimate power: permanent horniness.

They appeared inside the bedroom of a classic apartment. There were clothes strewn about the floor, and even at a glance Harry could see that many of them were in different sizes. That was an advantage to being a Metamorphmagus that he never thought of. You could buy whatever clothes you liked, and change your body to fit them.

Tonks tossed him onto her bed, where Harry landed on the messy sheets in between a pink sweater and an old pair of panties.

"You're insatiable," she said. "Do you get off on playing a damsel in distress?"

"I'm not the one drooling right now," Harry pointed out. 

Tonks wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You saw nothing."

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. "Do you want your panties back now?" he asked.

Tonks was already crawling onto the bed.

"Keep them," she said. "I won't be needing any for this."

Harry was still bound around the wrists and ankles by chains. Considering he was the one who conjured them he could have dispelled them at any time, but he chose to let them stay for now. Tonks seemed to be into it. She rolled him over onto his stomach, yanking at the chains with her hands.

"Look at you," she said. "All trussed up…"

Judging from the way she said it, bareback broom-riding might not have been the only kink she learned about tonight. 

She tugged the chains off of his hands, tossing them away where they clattered onto the messy floor. She was pulling his shirt off in seconds— although with its many tears, she was soon yanking away fabric like it was wrapping paper, making Harry's muscular torso the present hidden beneath.

When his shirt was gone, she didn't roll him back over. Instead, with his legs still bound and Harry still on his stomach, Tonks descended on him, pressing herself to his back.

She kissed and bit his skin. Her hands were pressed to his shoulder blades, allowing her to lean in. Harry was sure this was going to leave marks. Tonks worshipped his back, feeling out his muscles with her mouth. She even trailed her tongue between his lats, dragging it along his spine. Harry could feel cool air against the saliva she left behind.

Tonks bit the back of his neck, working higher and nibbling the top of his ear. "This is fun."

She pulled up off of him, her touch momentarily disappearing. Harry heard her clothes being removed, one by one. Moments later, he heard them landing on the floor, joining the others scattered about. She crawled along his back, delicately placing her palms and knees on him, before sitting so that her back was to the headboard. She spread her legs shamelessly, letting Harry look straight up at her pussy with his chin still resting on the bed. Tonks had grabbed her wand when she disrobed, and she used it now to slice through the chains on Harry's ankles.

Harry used his newfound range of motion to rise up on all fours, crawling forward. When he got close to her, Tonks grinned, planting one hand on the top of his head and pushing him down. Harry didn't fight her. His head descended, pressing his mouth against her crotch.

Tonks shivered the moment his tongue entered her. "Oh, that's just perfect!"

Harry aimed to please. He looked up at her, holding eye contact as he slid his tongue through her wet folds. He grabbed the insides of her thighs, squeezing the sensitive skin and holding her in place. Tonks went stiff. The hand she pressed his head down with was still there, and it now grabbed a clump of his hair. She continued pushing down, keeping his mouth glued to her.

Her insides were moist and warm, while he could feel old dried residue on her thighs, slightly scratchy against his palms as he gripped them. When Tonks said she enjoyed the broom ride, she hadn't been exaggerating one bit. He had stiff competition to outdo, it seemed, so he better go all out.

"Testing, testing," Harry hissed.

"Holy!" Tonks howled as his tongue vibrated twice as much as the broom had. Her hair began to lengthen and shorten rapidly as her control slipped.

Harry grinned as he continued to hiss. He moved his shaking tongue throughout her, refusing to spare a single part of her pussy. Tonks's body shook the whole time. Her toes curled, catching on the sheets. The longer Harry worked, the wetter she became. The moment he brought his tongue to her clit she orgasmed.

Not that he stopped there. While Tonks gasped for breath, Harry pressed his magic (literally) tongue against her clit. Immediately, her clit reacted.

Harry wasn't talking about another orgasm, either. No, Tonks's clit actually began to change shape. It grew in size, the hood expanding to meet his tongue. Like the rest of her body parts, there was no reason Tonks couldn't control it when she wanted to.

"You won't believe how helpful this trick was for my first boyfriends," Tonks panted. "Not that you need it."

She was holding onto Harry's hair tight enough now that he could feel his scalp being tugged up. He didn't mind. That was just more evidence of what a good job he was doing. Tonks aimed her wand, vanishing his pants and underwear, leaving him just as naked from the waist down as he was from the waist up. It was a good thing she did it then, too, because moments later pleasure wracked her body and she dropped her wand.

"Being a hero is bloody awesome!" Tonks exclaimed.

She bent forward, shoving her tummy against the top of Harry's head. He was pretty sure she was making her breasts bigger, because he felt them pressing into the base of his neck, but he didn't know if that was a conscious choice or just a reaction. Her thighs definitely thickened so he'd have more to hang onto. With her loudest moan yet, Tonks orgasmed hard. Harry felt the clear nectar rush into his mouth, filling it until he swallowed.

"Thank you for the meal," Harry hissed in Parseltongue.

"Oh bugger this. I need you inside me." Tonks rolled them over. "And I need it now."

She inched her hips back along Harry's toned stomach, trailing juices as she did. Harry's cock was sticking up at an angle. Tonks wrapped her fingers all the way around it, angling it up toward her entrance.

"Just lay back," she moaned. "The hero will handle the rest."

She dropped down, biting her lip so hard that he thought she would draw blood. It only took a moment for him to realize that something was different about the way she was riding him. Harry audibly gasped. He felt like he was a cow being milked.

Tonks wasn't just tight, she was squeezing him with different parts of her pussy. Each time she slammed down, she would tighten herself around the base of his cock, then the middle, then the head, as if she was giving a hand job in the middle of sex.

"You like that?" Tonks's face was flushed. "I practiced since last time. After you made me feel like a fool. I wonder how many other tricks I can discover."

She leaned forward, her breasts growing to rival Susan's. Or maybe these were more like Susan's Aunt's. After all, Tonks showed last time just how well she could imitate her mature boss. As the breasts filled Harry's face, he was left with no choice but to bite into them. There were certainly worse fates.

"That's it," Tonks cooed at him. "Put that mouth to use. I like you better this way. Maybe the trick this whole time was to keep your mouth stuffed, so that you can't run it."

Harry reached behind her, grabbing a firm grip on her bum. Tonks kept flicking her hips, riding him with even more vigor than she applied to her broom. The wet popping of Harry's lips suctioning on and off of her breasts accompanied the slapping of their flesh, filling the narrow walls of her bedroom.

With the tricks Tonks was pulling with her crotch, it was inevitable that Harry was going to break. But he was a man of many talents, and stamina counted among those. So he didn't worry too much when he came inside her, because he remained rock hard.

"I wonder…" Tonks said between heavy breaths. "...how many times can you fill me up before you're finally worn out?"

Harry pulled his head away from her breasts just long enough to answer. "Why don't you find out?"

Tonks grinned.

She reached back, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands away from her backside, pinning them to the bed on either side of his shoulders. Her hips sped up. More importantly, the way she was manipulating her pussy quickened, gripping Harry in those fascinating ways at a pace he found almost terrifying. He could barely toy with Tonks's nipples anymore, too preoccupied with what was going on around his crotch. That didn't stop Tonks from filling his face with soft, gooey breasts, smothering him until he found it difficult to breathe.

Harry found it incredible, to be honest. Even after this long, he was still discovering new things he never had before. Metamorphmagi were incredible. Tonks was incredible. And it was time that she received the reward she had earned.

Tonks's eyes widened. She cried out as she felt him fill her with a second load. Every last drop of his orgasm was wrung out of his cock by her clenching muscles, and no sooner had Tonks adjusted to the feeling than she orgasmed herself. Another harsh climax so soon after so many others temporarily overwhelmed her powers. She slipped over sideways, her breasts and bum shrinking to their usual dimensions as she landed on her side. The sound of panting filled the bedroom, coming from both of them.

"Hey Harry?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Are you done?"

Harry pressed his chin to his chest, looking down at his crotch, where his cock bobbed up and down, semi-flaccid.

"I've probably got a few more in me," he said. "But I need a minute."

"Me too," Tonks said.

They both went quiet. Tonks nestled her head against Harry's arm, pressing her temple to his bicep.

"You did all that for me, didn't you?" she asked. "All that business with the dragons, and everything else?"

"What're you talking about?"

"Fine," Tonks grumbled. "Be that way."

There was another bout of silence, and this time Harry was the one to break it.

"Why did you want to know?" he asked.

"Well, because I would've been grateful. And because, depending on your answer, I might've changed my mind about how many of my holes you can use when we start up again."

Harry never confessed to anything faster in his life.