Chapter 2 - A Talk With Tonks
The days passed incredibly slowly for Harry, cooped up inside his bedroom. Despite having the window open the room felt constantly stuffy from the intense summer heat coming in from outside, where Muggles were enjoying cool drinks and barbecues. Harry had no desire to leave his room or indeed Privet Drive; he was sure that he was still under surveillance by the Order but it did not allay his fear of another attack by Dementors or something much worse. Inside the house he was safe. Uncomfortably warm and bored out of his mind, yes, but safe from Voldemort and his followers nonetheless. Even the Dursleys weren't bothering him; Aunt Petunia pushed three meals a day through the flap in his door and that suited him just fine. He didn't think he'd be able to stand their withering looks or nasty comments, which they seemed to have been storing up over the past year ready for his return.
The boredom was beginning to drive him mad though. He had nothing to do. No television or computer like Dudley. He couldn't practise Quidditch (although the thought of the look on the faces of the stuffy residents of Privet Drive if they saw him zooming around on his Firebolt brought a smile to Harry's face), and he didn't even have any school work to occupy himself with seeing as they'd just finished their OWL's. Not even his (now slightly battered) copy of Quidditch Through The Ages could get his interest at the moment. The one thing he really wanted was the company of his friends, and that too was unavailable.
Ron was at Grimmauld Place along with Ginny: Harry had gotten a letter from Ron not long after he'd returned to Privet Drive telling him that Mrs Weasley had banned them from any of the Order's meetings.
The bloody woman won't budge! Ron had written, apologetically. Wish I could give you some news mate, but we're being kept in the dark just like last time.
As the house had been de-contaminated the previous year it seemed Ron had little to do, just like Harry. He did get to play Quidditch at least, which Harry was quite jealous of. The enchantments concealing Grimmauld Place also covered it's rather overgrown back garden, so Ron and Ginny were able to spend some time practising. Ron wrote that he spent the rest of his time avoiding Kreacher (who, now that Sirius was gone, obeyed only the mad portrait of Mrs Black) and trying to get Ginny to tell him exactly when and why she'd chosen Dean Thomas, with little success.
Hermione was spending the summer with her parents, as she'd felt she'd been neglecting them slightly over the last year. They had gone on holiday to America and Harry had received a letter from her (his heart had jumped slightly when he recognised her neat handwriting on the front). She seemed to be having a good time and Harry was glad, as he felt that they all needed as many good times as they could get at the moment. Hermione had sent the letter from the Salem Witches Academy which she had visited:
It's fantastic here, Harry! They only accept the brightest witches from the USA, and there's a very deep sense of tradition here. Not that Hogwarts doesn't have tradition, but you know what I mean. The owl bringing you this letter is amazing, they're bred by the witches here to perform transatlantic flights! I wish you could see them all . . .
The owl had indeed been impressive. It was larger than Hedwig and looked very strong and powerful; Hedwig herself had taken a disliking to it immediately and given Harry a reproachful look as he'd offered her food and water bowl to it. The rest of Hermione's letter just told about the other things she and her parents had been doing (mostly Muggle activities like theme parks and water slides) and Harry thought she was trying to take his mind off the horrible events they'd experienced. Harry was grateful for the attempt, although it hadn't worked.
And so the days had worn on. Dumbledore had warned Harry that he was going to have to spend the entire summer at Privet Drive, but Harry had not realised how excruciatingly boring it was going to be. It made him feel useless too; the Order was out there, doing who knows what to try and stop Voldemort, whilst he was cooped up, unable to be of any help at all. The arrival of his birthday brought a brief respite; five cards were now arranged next to Harry's bed: one from Ron, one from Ginny, one from Hagrid, one signed by various members of the Order (including Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mad Eye Moody, Lupin and Tonks) and the most important one, of course, from Hermione, which Harry had placed in the middle. Even though the message inside was a short one, he found himself re-reading it often because it ended with three words that brought him great joy:
Love from Hermione
It was, Harry thought, those three words that kept him going. Finally on the 30th August he received news from the wizarding world, just when he was beginning to feel like he was going to be confined to Privet Drive forever. An owl had arrived with two letters for him just as he was finishing breakfast. He discarded his toast immediately and looked at them both. One bore the official Hogwarts crest and unsurprisingly contained the list of books he would need for his sixth year. The other was from Arthur Weasley, and this interested Harry far more. Mr Weasley apologised for Harry not being able to come to Grimmauld Place to be with Ron and Ginny, re-iterating the fact that it was Dumbledore's orders. He told Harry to have his things packed and ready by tomorrow morning: some members of the Order would be coming to escort Harry to Diagon Alley to buy his school things, and then to Kings Cross station the following day. Harry felt the happiest he had been all summer upon reading these words and had to restrain himself for dancing around the room in joy.
I'm finally going back! he thought happily. I'll finally get to go back to Hogwarts and to see Ron and to see Hermione . . .
Upon thinking this he suddenly felt very nervous again. While he was determined to tell Hermione how he felt, he had no idea how to do it and he would be seeing her very soon. He felt a surge of panic and looked around.
"Hedwig," he said, "I think I'm in trouble."
When the doorbell rang at ten o'clock the next morning Harry was more than ready to go. He had slept badly, all of his worries (not just about Hermione) keeping him awake until late in the night. All of his possessions were packed away inside his trunk and Hedwig was sleeping inside her cage. Looking around the room you would not have believed that Harry had been there at all. Which was, he thought, exactly the way the Dursleys liked it. The sound of the doorbell made him leap to his feet and he crept out onto the landing. He heard Uncle Vernon answer the door, and then after a few moments . . .
"BOY!"
Uncle Vernon's voice came roaring up the stairs. Harry went cautiously down the stairs and then smiled warmly. Tonks was standing in the doorway, beaming at him.
"Wotcher Harry!" she said.
"Hi Tonks," he replied, coming down to the foot of the stairs. Uncle Vernon had been watching Harry every step of the way down, and Harry now grinned as while Uncle Vernon was looking at him Tonks changed her hair from long and blonde to her short, bubble-gum pink look.
"All ready to go?" she asked, starting to take a step inside.
Vernon Dursley turned back to her, perhaps to try and stop her from coming in, but stepped back in shock at the sudden change in her appearance. A mixture of fear and puzzlement overlapped his look of anger and Harry had to fight to prevent himself laughing.
"Yeah, my trunk's upstairs. I'll bring it down."
"I'll come and help you . . ."
"DON'T EVEN THINK of setting one foot in this house," Vernon Dursley hissed. "It's bad enough having the boy in here without having another one of you . . . you . . ."
"Wizards?" Tonks said brightly.
"Yes, wizards," Vernon said, sounding like it was the most disgusting word he'd ever heard. "Boy, hurry up and get your things."
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He felt a particularly strong surge of hatred for his uncle as he dragged his trunk downstairs. There had been no need to speak to Tonks like that. She didn't seem to mind though, instead she continued to stand in the doorway and mess with his uncle's mind as every time he turned away for a moment she changed her hair again. When Harry brought down Hedwig she had waist-length ginger hair and could easily have passed as one of the Weasleys. This time Harry did laugh at the look on Uncle Vernon's face as it was purple with rage and beginning to do an odd kind of gurning - he'd cottoned on to what Tonks was doing.
"Stop doing that!" he shouted. "The neighbours might see!"
"Stop doing what?" Tonks asked innocently.
"I . . . well I never . . . just . . . well . . ." Uncle Vernon spluttered angrily.
"See you next year," Harry said as he passed, not particularly caring whether he saw his uncle again or not. Vernon Dursley did not reply, continuing to splutter in rage as Harry and Tonks walked up the pathway and then heaved Harry's trunk into the boot of a waiting car. Harry glanced over as the door slammed shut.
"I'm glad to be out of there," he said.
"I bet you are," Tonks said. "Here, get in and let's get out of here. It's a Ministry car, there's plenty of room inside."
"Is it just us?" Harry asked, looking around. "I thought there might be . . ."
"More of us? Well, after you had half the Order escorting you last year I'm not surprised. There are two other Aurors here, they're on brooms and under Disillusionment Charms. They're hovering above us, somewhere . . . ah, there we go, see there's one by the lamp-post over there?"
Harry looked to where Tonks was pointing and after a few moments he saw it, what looked like the imprint of a wizard on a broomstick up near the top of the lamp-post. If he hadn't known to look he realised he never would have spotted it at all.
"Handy charm, that" said Tonks. "They're going to follow us by air. Well, get in Harry. We've got a bit of a drive to London."
They were soon speeding their way towards London. Inside the car (which looked like a normal Muggle hatchback on the outside) there was rather spacious seating arranged like a limousine, complete with glass separating them from the driver. Harry noticed that, like the other Ministry car he'd been in in the past, this one seemed to be able to squeeze through non-existent gaps in traffic. They were definitely making much better time than they would in a normal Muggle car.
"So how come we have a Ministry car?" Harry asked. "Why did they only send you to come get me? Not that I think you're rubbish or anything," he added hastily. Tonks laughed.
"That's all right, Harry. I don't really know how much I can tell you, Dumbledore said you'd be full of questions and he said to tell you that he'll be speaking to you when you're back at Hogwarts. I think you're better off hearing our news from him anyway" she said sheepishly.
"So there is news then?" Harry said eagerly.
"Of course there's news, it's been two whole months. Whether you'll think it's good or bad news, well, I dunno. Anyway, I think it'd be all right if I answered those questions though. The reason there's just me and our flying friends out there is because we're stretched pretty thin at the moment."
Tonks was sitting on the seat opposite Harry. She opened a compartment in the armrest and pulled out two bottles of butterbeer.
"Want one? I always loved this stuff . . ."
Harry accepted the bottle gratefully. He'd begun to forget how good butterbeer tasted . . .
"Well, the Ministry's on our side now see? Fudge apologised to Dumbledore for not seeing the truth about You-Know-Who and now they're working together."
Harry frowned.
"Oh don't worry," said Tonks, "Dumbledore's not about to leave Hogwarts to start running the Ministry. Let's just say that he's now offering advice that Fudge is taking seriously. The Aurors have been completely mobilised, they're got us spread out all over the country looking for You-Know-Who, so they could only really spare me and Jenkins and Seeves out there. We reckoned if there's any Death Eaters watching out for you at the moment they'll be expecting you to be travelling by floo powder or portkey, so we thought it'd be safer this way."
Harry nodded. Tonks answered his other questions as best she could; the most important thing Harry got out of her was that everyone was alive and well, there had been no attacks since Voldemort's appearance at the Ministry of Magic. This relieved him somewhat and eventually they fell silent. Harry stared out of the window for a while and soon Tonks began to read the latest edition of The Quibbler. Harry's thoughts returned to Hermione, and once again the jittery, nervous feeling began to grip him. What would he say to her? How would he tell her? What was he going to do if he couldn't even say hello when he saw her again?
Perhaps, Harry thought, what he needed was a female perspective . . .
"Um, Tonks?"
"What's up Harry?"
"I was wondering . . . I was hoping . . . I wanted to ask you something . . ."
"Sure," said Tonks.
"Well, I wanted to ask your advice about something . . ."
Harry had started to go red.
"Don't be embarrassed," Tonks told him brightly. "I'm here to help, after all!"
"Well, OK . . . um . . . I wanted to ask your advice about . . . girls."
Harry blushed a deeper red and Tonks grinned at him.
"Girls eh? Do you mean girls in general, or are we talking about one girl in particular here?"
"Someone in particular," Harry answered cautiously.
"Someone at school?"
"You could say that, yeah . . ."
Harry was feeling extremely embarrassed and could feel the heat coming off his face. Tonks was still grinning at him which wasn't helping much, be he decided that seeing as he'd gone this far he'd might as well carry on.
"I . . . really like someone," he said, realising how lame it sounded. "And I don't know how to tell her."
"Ah, we've all been through that, Harry. I have too. There was a boy back in the fourth year that I had a major crush on, but everytime we were alone I'd get so scared that I'd change to look like someone else and he'd wander off because he'd thought I'd gone. Not many people knew I was a Metamorphmagus back then, see."
"This isn't quite the same," Harry said. "I don't really know what to say to girls anyway and, well, this girl . . . we're already really good friends."
Tonks raised an eyebrow at him.
"All right, I'll tell you," Harry told her, "but promise me you won't breath a word to anyone else, or all your Auror training won't save you from the hex I'll put on you!"
Tonks laughed but then took on a serious look.
"Harry, I promise that your secret will be safe with me."
Harry was silent for a moment, as if considering the look on Tonks' heart-shaped face, and then nodded.
"It's Hermione."
Tonks grinned again.
"Thought so," she said. "She's a very pretty girl, Harry."
"I know she is," Harry said. "She's beautiful. And that's one of things I want to tell her. But how do I tell her without freaking her out? What if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore?"
"That's a risk you'll have to take," Tonks said, shaking her head sadly. "I wish it weren't Harry, I really do - Merlin's Beard, you kids could do with some happiness in your lives. But there's no guarantee that telling Hermione you want to be more than her friend won't scare her."
Harry looked down at the floor of the car.
"But hey," Tonks said, "one thing I can tell you about girls, being one myself, is that we're mysterious and often not what you think. Could be that if you tell her, she might say the same thing back to you."
"I'd really like that," Harry said, smiling. "But there's another thing . . . I don't even know what to say to her! The last few times I was with her I couldn't put two words together, just like with Cho . . ."
"Cho?"
"Forget about it."
"So you're worried that if you actually get the courage to tell her, you won't be able to say what you want to say?"
"Exactly . . . wow Tonks, you're really good at this you know?"
"Nah, I'm not, I'm just a good guesser."
They sat in silence again for a while, but this time Tonks sat in deep concentration. Harry felt a little bit better now that he had told someone.
"Maybe," Tonks said finally, "what you need is a bit of practice."
"How do you mean?" Harry asked.
"A bit of practise in saying what you want to say actually to Hermione."
"Tonks, I can't just say to Hermione 'can you listen to this but not think about it, as I'm just practising for when I'm really going to tell you'".
"Harry, I thought you were smarter than that. I meant practise talking to Hermione now."
With that she screwed up her face in concentration, and then Harry gasped. Hermione was sitting opposite him. Of course it wasn't really Hermione - it was the same beautiful face, those same brown eyes, the same rather bushy brown hair, but the impish grin she wore made it clear that Tonks was in there really. When she spoke it was with Hermione's voice, and even though he knew it wasn't her that voice still made him feel rather, well, tingly.
"Just say what you want to say, Harry."
Harry licked his now rather dry lips and swallowed nervously. It wasn't Hermione sitting across from him, so close he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to, it was really Tonks, but the appearance was so realistic it was almost unreal. He swallowed again and forced himself to look directly into her eyes. He still felt a bit foolish, but he began to speak.
"Um . . . Hermione . . . there's something that I have to tell you. Something that I've wanted to tell you for a long time now . . ."
Hermione-Tonks continued to watch him with the same impish grin. Harry began to feel more and more ridiculous . . . this wasn't right, it wasn't really her . . .
"I've been wanting to say something to you and . . . well . . . um . . . it's hard and . . . um . . ."
He was faltering, and the grin from Hermione-Tonks' face was replaced by a genuine smile of encouragement.
"Come on Harry, you can do it," she said. "Just say what you feel . . ."
"I . . . um . . . I really . . . really . . . oh, I can't do this! I'm sorry Tonks, but I just can't. It's not the same. You're not . . . her."
Hermione-Tonks smiled again, then screwed up her face and she was just Tonks once more.
"Ah, never mind Harry," she said. "It was worth a try, anyway. I'd actually look on it as a good thing."
"Really?" Harry asked, puzzled. "I wouldn't. If I can't say it to you, how am I going to say it to her?"
"I think," said Tonks, "that it shows you really care about her. The fact that you couldn't say anything because you knew it wasn't really her - you obviously only want to say it to her herself. You have a good heart, Harry."
"Thanks," Harry said, looking at the floor once again. He felt embarrassed once more, and could feel the blush returning to his cheeks.
"I'm sure that when the moment comes you'll do fine," said Tonks.
"You promise you won't tell anyone?"
"I promise, Harry."
Harry spent the rest of the trip looking out of the window, buried in his thoughts. He was finally brought back by the rumble of his stomach. He hoped they would get there soon. As if in reply, the drivers window rolled down and the driver called back to them.
"We'll be at Diagon Alley in five minutes, Miss Tonks."
"All set, Harry?" she asked.
"Think so," he said. It was quite possible that he was going to see Hermione there. He swallowed nervously once more. No matter how nervous he was or how confused he might be, he knew one thing - it was going to be wonderful to see her.