Chapter 12: Vladimir and Goldilocks
The days turned into weeks and soon the start of the new term at Hogwarts was imminent. Harry and Hermione had received their letters detailing the required texts and materials for the school year. Remus has stopped in briefly to discuss their plans to acquire them and a day was chosen when Harry and Hermione would be escorted to Diagon Alley.
Harry had been thrilled by this - it had been some time since he had last been allowed to visit there. Even the thought of being escorted around like a criminal could not dampen his spirits. He loved Diagon Alley too much to be put off his good mood. There was something purely magical about the place and he would always remember it fondly as his first glimpse into this spectacular world.
So when Remus arrived with a flagon full of rancid Polyjuice Potion and an apologetic look, Harry's scowl was mostly perfunctory and he drank the disgusting goop without much grumbling. The potion began its work at once and Harry stumbled back as the familiar and unpleasant shifting of his flesh began to take place. His hair shortened and lightened until it was nearly blonde and he felt his body compress unpleasantly, reducing his height and breadth. When the process was complete, he glanced into the hallway mirror and frowned at his reflection - his green eyes were now grey and his jaw was softer, less defined, but with a strangely pointy chin. He looked familiar, somehow…
"Please tell me I didn't just drink essence of Malfoy," Harry sighed.
Remus was looking into the mirror with him over his shoulder. He grimaced at Harry's comment. "I don't believe so. Moody provided it. I- well, to be honest, I have no idea who it's from," he admitted.
"Great," Harry muttered, running his hands through his shorter hair in distaste.
"His clothes don't really fit him anymore, Professor," Hermione pointed out.
Harry looked down his front to see that Sirius's shirt and trousers hung from him loosely. They didn't seem too bad to him, but he supposed he was quite used to wearing ill-fitting clothes.
"I thought he might wear his Hogwarts robe and uniform. The one from last year?" Remus replied, glancing up the stairs as if expecting the robe to walk down by itself. "They should fit and it will help him blend in."
Hermione nodded as if this were a satisfactory plan.
"I'll just summon them then," Remus said and pulled out his wand to prepare to do so.
Harry stilled him with a shake of his head. "You can't. They're in my trunk, and the latch is closed. I'll just run up and change."
"I'll get my robe, too," Hermione stated. "It still fits."
A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were situated in their robes and lined up in front of the fireplace in the drawing room. Remus gave them each a handful of floo powder.
"Aren't you coming?" Harry asked him suspiciously, noticing that he took no powder for himself.
"I'm afraid not, Harry. Your escort will be waiting for you on the other side," Remus admitted. "Off you go, then."
Harry frowned. Beside him, Hermione stepped into the fireplace and shouted, "Diagon Alley!" before throwing down her floo powder and disappearing into the flames.
Harry gave Remus one last searching look before following her.
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When Harry stumbled out of the other end of the fireplace, Hermione and an unusually attractive woman with blonde hair were waiting for him. Harry glanced at Hermione in askance as he brushed the soot off his robe, as if asking who this person was.
"Wotcher Harry!" the blonde woman greeted, grinning youthfully in a way that belied her coolly sophisticated appearance.
"Tonks?" Harry asked incredulously. Her metamorphmagus abilities were truly impressive.
"That's right! But keep it down, will you? I'm in disguise," she said, waggling her eyebrows humourously.
"What's with the getup?"
Tonks stuck out her chest and gave him a faux coquettish look. "Do you like it? Men usually go for this. I tell you, it's kind of a drag, really. I never get this sort of reaction when I go around as myself."
"You look like Narcissa Malfoy," Harry said bluntly. "Really not my taste."
"Oh, bugger, do I really?" Tonks gasped, obviously horrified. "Well, I'm supposed to be your mother, so who does that make you?"
"Don't even say it," Harry commanded darkly.
Hermione hid a laugh behind her hand at this exchange. Tonks stuck her tongue out at her.
"Here, Harry. You'll need this," Tonks said, reaching into her stylish robes and removing a flask. She handed it to him and he took it warily. "It's enough for two more doses of that Polyjuice. I've cast a spell on it - it'll warm up when it gets close to when you need to take some."
Harry tucked it into his trouser pocket. "Won't it look a bit odd to see a sixth year Hogwarts student taking pulls from a hip flask?"
"Nah," Tonks dismissed. "Lots of people have to take potions regularly. If anyone asks, we'll just say you have foot fungus."
"Lovely."
"I thought so!" she replied cheerily. "So, where to first, product of my loins?"
"Well, mum - I'd say Flourish and Blotts for this one, I'm sure," Harry said, tilting his head towards Hermione. "We can pick up our textbooks and Hermione can have a look around."
Hermione tried not to look too pleased by this idea. "Oh, honestly, we can go anywhere first, Harry. What about the Quidditch store?"
"I think we should get everything on our term lists before we try to see anything else," Harry said, pulling his Hogwarts letter from his pocket to verify the things they needed.
"You're right," Hermione agreed. "But I would like to visit Gringotts first. My parents gave me eighty pounds, but I need to exchange them for galleons."
"Oh, right - Gringotts," Harry murmured. "Good thing you thought of it. I don't have any money on me."
"That's our first stop, then, Harry," Hermione replied.
"Wait, wait," Tonks interrupted, grabbing them both by the shoulder and turning them towards her. "We can't have you going around calling him 'Harry'. He's supposed to be in disguise."
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Of course. What shall we call him then?"
"Oo, fun! I'll think of a name," Tonks declared. She peered at Harry thoughtfully and tapped a long, thin finger against her chin. "Wait, I've got one! Vladimir."
Harry glowered. "Absolutely not."
"Too bad!" Tonks sing-songed. "That's what I'm calling you."
"Fine," Harry conceded. "But you're in disguise, too. If you get to choose my name, I get to choose yours."
Tonks considered this. "I guess that's fair. But you can't choose Nymphadora! So don't even try."
Harry frowned, obviously having been hoping to choose that name. He looked at her disguise critically for a moment before reaching forward and tugging a strand of her blonde hair. "Goldilocks, then."
Hermione did not even try to hide her laugh at this.
Tonks looked confused. "Goldilocks? What kind of a name is that?"
"Yours," Harry said. "Let's go."
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Gringotts was particularly crowded that day, and there was a line to see a teller. Harry nudged Tonks with his shoulder while they were waiting.
"Will the Polyjuice be a problem for getting into my vault?" he asked her, whispering as quietly as he could.
"Nope. They verify your identity with your key. I've got it right here," she assured, patting her robe. She seemed to consider for a moment. "They might ask you for a drop of your blood, though."
"When do I get a copy of my key?" Harry asked. "Hagrid had it first year and now you, apparently. Shouldn't I be the one to have it?"
Tonks looked at him apologetically. "You're right. Here - take it. I'll tell Dumbledore I gave it to you. But don't lose it! They're not easy to replace."
She handed him the small, gold key just as the goblin nearest them shouted, "Next!"
Together, Harry, Hermione and Tonks walked towards the shrewd-looking creature and looked up at him on his high stool behind the counter.
"Good morning!" Hermione greeted the goblin pleasantly. He looked a bit taken aback by her cordiality, but nodded in response. "I would like to exchange some pounds for galleons, please. And my friend would like to visit his vault."
"Do you have your key, Sir?" the goblin asked, addressing Harry.
"Right here," he replied, holding up the key Tonks had just given him.
The goblin took the key and looked it over. "This is in order, but Gringotts security regulations require that customers under Polyjuice submit to a simple blood-identity test."
Harry raised an eyebrow at this. How had the goblin known he was under Polyjuice so easily? "That's fine."
The goblin nodded and returned the key. He pulled out a delicate, gold scale and turned to Hermione. "Your pounds, please, Miss."
Hermione placed eight ten-pound notes on the counter and the goblin eyed them critically. He stacked them on one side of the scale, and strangely, the thin paper notes dipped the balance significantly. One by one, he placed shining gold galleons on the opposite side of the scale until the two sides were perfectly balanced once more.
"Today's exchange rate is 5 to 1. Your total amount is 16 galleons," the goblin informed. "Is this acceptable?"
"Yes, thank you," Hermione said politely. The goblin gave her another odd look before sweeping the galleons from the scale into a small, cloth bag and setting it on the counter for her.
"Your hand, please, Sir?" the goblin requested, holding his long fingers out towards Harry.
Harry dutifully held out his hand the goblin pricked him gently with a long, silver needle. When a drop of blood appeared, the goblin had Harry press his hand against a plain-looking sheet of parchment. At the touch of his blood, writing began to appear, but it was in no language Harry had ever seen. He supposed this was Gobbledegook - the language of goblins.
"Yes, everything is in order," the goblin declared after examining the parchment. He snapped his fingers at another goblin waiting nearby. "Thornfoot! Please escort Mr. Potter to his vault."
This new goblin scuttled forward and gestured for them to follow him. When they reached the narrow stone passage that lead to the cart room, Hermione looked quite excited and Harry realised she had never been down to the vaults before. He thought maybe he should warn her about how they travelled down there, but decided against it. It proved unnecessary, anyway - they arrived quickly and Hermione's face went ashen at the site of the tracks and the old, metal cart that came rushing up towards them.
"Oh, no," she moaned. Harry gave her a sympathetic look. He knew she hated anything that went either very high or very fast.
"I love these things," Tonks supplied cheerfully, oblivious to Hermione's nervousness. "I keep looking for the dragons, but everything just zips by too fast to see!"
If anything, Hermione seemed to go paler at this statement. Harry squeezed her shoulder in encouragement. She glanced up at him and seemed slightly heartened by his look.
"Let's go," she muttered in resignation before stepping into the cart. Harry slid past her to take one side of the bench, allowing her to press against his side.
Tonks gestured to the other end of the bench. "Are you sure you don't want the side, Hermione?" she asked. "You can't see well from the middle."
"N-no, I'm perfectly fine right here," she said. Blindly, she reached down and gripped Harry's thigh anxiously. After a second, she froze and jerked her head up towards him, realizing what she had done and blushing to the roots of her hair. She let go at once. "Sorry!"
Harry smiled at her weakly and took her hand in his own to let her know it was all right. He, too, was blushing slightly, and he looked away out the side of the cart.
The goblin stepped in after them and situated himself at the front. With a sudden lurch, the cart jerked forward, reaching an incredible top speed that had Hermione shrieking in Harry's ear the entire ride. The goblin glanced back at her warily, but did not slow.
Onward they raced through the twisting passages. Strange, echoing noises followed them at nearly every turn. The flickering lanterns on the stone walls of the cavern threw odd shadows across the cart as they hurtled past. Harry could barely hear Tonks shouting gleefully over the rush of the wind. Hermione's nails were digging painfully into his hand and he could see that her eyes were clenched as tightly closed as possible.
Soon enough, the ride was over and they came to a crashing stop just outside Harry's vault. Hermione did not open her eyes until Harry nudged her, and even then, she did not release her fierce grip on his hand. Tonks leapt from the cart with a jovial bound before looking down at Hermione in confusion. "What's wrong with her, then?" she asked.
"Nothing," Harry said curtly.
Hermione moaned again and shakily got to her feet. Her knees were trembling and Harry took hold of her upper arm to help her from the cart. She leaned against the wall and shuddered, exactly as Hagrid had done all those years ago.
Thornfoot removed a lantern from its hook on the wall and moved to unlock the vault door. When he finished, green smoke streamed out in a great cloud and gathered against the dark ceiling of the cavern before dissipating. This unusual sight seemed to finally draw Hermione out of her stupor and she watched it in curiosity.
"Potter vault - number 511," the goblin announced, holding the lantern in a way that lit the interior and the piles of galleons, sickles, and knuts within.
Tonks handed him a bag with a string tie and Harry strode forward into his vault. He quickly swept a few piles of galleons into the bag before cinching it closed and stuffing it in his pocket.
When he returned outside, Hermione was looking at him feebly.
"Do you think you're ready to ride again?" Harry asked her gently. "We can wait a bit, if you like."
"No," Hermione sighed. "It's probably better to just get it over with."
The ride back to the surface was marginally slower - they were now traveling uphill instead of down - but if Hermione noticed the change, it did not show in her expression. She looked as ill as before.
When they finally arrived, Tonks had the graciousness to suggest that they stop and sit for a while at Florean Fortescue's. They found a table just inside the door and Hermione's colour slowly returned to normal as she sipped from a crème soda. Harry and Tonks helped themselves to a chocolate sundae which was split cheerfully between them.
Once they had finished, they began the short walk down to Flourish and Blotts. Hermione's spirits improved considerably as they strolled, and she pointed out various shoppe fronts and street hawkers to Harry, commenting on things she would like to see later. Before long, they had arrived at the bookstore and had to jostle their way through the crowd milling around the doorway.
"Goodness, it's packed today," Hermione said as she squeezed between two heavy-set men who were arguing loudly over which team would win the upcoming Quidditch league season.
Harry shouldered his way through a group of Hufflepuffs standing near the doorway and followed Hermione up the stairs. She seemed to know where each and every book on their term list was to be found, and she led him around the store with the careless certainty of someone very familiar with the building's layout.
"Watch where you're putting your bloody hands, you pervert!" Tonks shouted from behind him. Harry turned to see what was happening. A thin, swarthy-looking man was nearly purple from embarrassment as nearby customers turned to stare at the scene. Tonks - in her blonde, pouty disguise - had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him fiercely.
The man stuttered and babbled for a moment before rushing out the store. "That's right! Run away, little man!" Tonks called after him. She stalked over to Harry in a huff, muttering curses under her breath.
Harry smiled at her weakly before turning back to see Hermione further up the aisle, picking enormous leather books from the shelf seemingly at random and flicking through them. Some she placed in a stack on the floor beside her, and others she put back where she found them.
"Are those the books you're getting?" Harry asked her warily, eyeing the impressive pile.
"Oh, it's so hard to choose!" Hermione moaned. "I have to really consider which ones to buy - I only have 16 galleons and I still have to get potion supplies and a new robe."
"I can buy them for you," Harry offered.
"Oh, Harry, I couldn't accept. But it's generous of you to offer," Hermione replied. She carefully selected three books from the pile she had made and returned them to the shelf. She gathered the five remaining books in her arms and started back downstairs. "The new Transfiguration texts are in a display near the counter," she called back. "That should be the last one we need!"
When she moved out of sight, Harry glanced back at Tonks somewhat guiltily before removing the three books Hermione had returned to the shelf and adding them to his own pile. "It's her birthday in September," he explained quietly.
She grinned at him goofily and nodded.
Harry tucked his new acquisitions beneath his textbooks so the titles could not be read and moved to stand behind Hermione in line. They each grabbed a copy of 'Sticks to Stones: Transfiguration for the Advanced Pupil' by Gregory Gimmini and then paid for their selections.
The harried sales clerk tied their books together with a leather strap that made carrying their purchases much easier. Hermione's numerous books had to be split into two of these groupings, and Harry offered to carry one. This time, she relented and smiled at him gratefully.
When they finally shuffled their way outside, they stopped underneath an awning for a cauldron shoppe to regroup after the chaos of the store.
"Where to next, kiddies?" Tonks asked.
"I think we should go to the Apothecary next," Hermione stated and pointed down the cobblestone road. "It's just down this way."
"Hang on a minute. My flask is heating up," Harry whispered. He discreetly turned and pretended to examine a cauldron so his back was to the street. He took a quick gulp of Polyjuice before replacing the cap on his flask and making a disgusted face. "Errg. All right, let's go then."
The Apothecary was busy, but not as bad as the bookstore had been. Still, the hag behind the counter glared at every customer that entered the store, as if annoyed that they would soon force her to actually work.
"I hated Advanced Potions," Tonks confessed, peering down into a barrel of eels. "Snape was horrid, as usual, and it was really tough. I'm sure you'll be aces at it, though, Hermione. Everyone says you're a clever crumpet."
Hermione turned to Tonks and beamed. "Didn't you hear? Harry got an 'O' on his Potions O.W.L., so he can continue with the lessons, too! He wants to be an Auror, like you."
Tonks clapped him on the back. "Figured you would! Maybe I will end up being your boss, huh? Hope you know a few good scouring charms. My desk is always a right mess."
Harry smirked and turned to scoop some slimy-looking lobster eggs into a small glass jar. It took nearly half an hour for both he and Hermione to collect all the required ingredients from their term list. The hag muttered angrily under her breath as they paid.
"Well!" Hermione exclaimed once they made it outside. "She was quite rude."
"I'd probably be a bit ornery too if I had to work somewhere that smelled like that," Tonks pointed out.
"Madame Malkins is the last place we need to go for sure," Harry cut in. "After that, we can do what we want."
Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions was an impressive example of organized chaos. When they stepped through the door, they found packs of first years running around, chasing one another and giggling. Salesclerks were barking out orders for bolts of fabric into the back room while counting out change in knuts and sickles. At least three men were standing around quite casually in nothing but long shirts, discussing Ministry policy. A seamstress was running frantically back and forth between a few Hogwarts students who were standing on short stools, waiting to be fitted for robes. Behind her, a charmed measuring tape was whipping around, taking measurements of arms and legs, which she would then jot hastily on a small ledger.
"Oh, bother," Hermione muttered quietly, taking in the scene.
"Hermione!" someone called from behind them. "So good to see you. It's simply mad in here, don't you think?"
Harry stiffened noticeably. He recognised that smarmy voice at once.
Percy Weasley was standing behind them with his hands at the small of his back, puffing his chest out importantly. He was smiling affably and did not seem to notice the storm clouds growing in Harry's eyes.
"Oh, hello, Percy," Hermione replied uneasily. She touched Harry's arm gently, willing him to calm down.
"I'm just here getting fitted for my new Ministry robes. I've been assigned to the Magical Information Distribution Office," Percy boasted. "It's really quite prestigious. I'm assuming you must be here for Hogwarts robes?"
Harry could not believe Percy still had a job at the Ministry. Apparently total incompetence was no obstacle in magical government.
"Oh. Congratulations," Hermione said in an exceedingly false voice. "And yes, I'm here to pick up a new robe."
"And who are your escorts?" Percy asked amicably, glancing at Harry and Tonks. "I'm Percival Weasley. It's a pleasure."
Both Harry and Tonks were staring at him stonily. Percy must have finally noticed because his smile died a little on his face.
"This is - this is Vladimir," Hermione supplied vaguely. "And his mother - um-"
"Goldilocks," Harry supplied sharply.
Percy began to look uncomfortable. "Vladimir and Goldilocks? Are you… visiting from a foreign land, then? If that's the case, let me be the first from Britain's Magical Government to welcome you to our soil. We have many excellent tourist programmes available at the Ministry of Magic that will help you fully experience our fine culture and entertainments," he babbled.
There was no response to this and the atmosphere grew tense and awkward. After nearly a full minute of silence, Percy looked towards Hermione and cleared his throat. "Hermione, I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time? There's something I'd like to discuss with you. Alone, perhaps?"
Harry's look turned stormy and Hermione stilled him once again with a hand on his elbow.
"Oh, I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said hesitantly. "Vladimir and his mother - I'd rather not leave them alone. They might get… lost."
Percy looked rather put out. "I'm certain they would be fine for a short-"
"No, really," Hermione insisted. "And anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of them."
Percy clearly did not want to, but whatever he had to say must have been important, because he did not relent. "Well, I had been hoping you would come to my family's home this summer so I could discuss some important matters with you, but unfortunately, you have not. I've attempted several owls, but they can't seem to locate you," he said, and his voice was clearly hinting that he wanted her to reveal where she was. When no answer was forthcoming, he seemed to deflate a bit before continuing. "I thought we might discuss our mutual friend - Harry Potter? It's quite important."
Hermione was on guard at once. "Why do you want to talk about Harry?" she asked coolly.
Percy did not seem aware of the change in her demeanour. "The Minister himself has asked me to attempt to reach Mr. Potter. He knew of our friendly acquaintance and the relationship he has with my family. The Minister would like to speak with Harry, and with haste. It's quite an honour, really… a private audience. However, I have not managed to locate Harry, either. Perhaps you might help me pass along the message? It would be wonderful if you could stress how important it is that Harry contacts him at once."
Harry could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He could not imagine the levels of self-deception necessary for Percy to describe their relationship as a 'friendly acquaintance'.
Hermione was frowning deeply. "I doubt very much that Harry would care to meet with either the Minister or you," she declared.
Percy was clearly taken aback by her blunt honesty. "Surely, you're mistaken. Perhaps - perhaps some mistakes were made last year, but Harry is not so foolish as to hold the Ministry responsible for them!"
Hermione clenched her fists. "You're right about one thing - Harry isn't a fool! And I'm not telling him a thing. If you want him to come to the Ministry, you'll have to ask him yourself!" she blustered. "Now if you'll excuse us, we're next in line. Good day, Percy."
To Percy's complete astonishment, she turned her back to him and strode to greet the seamstress who had just gestured her forward. Harry followed behind her, surprised and pleased by outburst. Tonks drew up the rear and was grinning madly.
"Did you see the look on that tosser's face?" she asked him in a giddy whisper. "Cor! I'd have given ten galleons for a photo of that. I bet he's still back there with his mouth open!"
Hermione pinked slightly when she heard this, but did not comment. "We would like to be fitted for robes, please. We're both Gryffindors," she said politely to the seamstress. She turned to gesture towards Harry, but stopped in her tracks after she looked at him. "Er - I'm so sorry, but can you give us a minute?"
The seamstress blew out a frustrated breath and nodded, before dashing over to finish the measurements on a nervous-looking third year.
"What's the matter?" Harry asked.
"Harry, you're Polyjuiced! Your robes won't fit you with the measurements they take today," Hermione whispered.
Harry frowned. "Oh, right."
Tonks glanced at the wizarding clock on the wall of the store. "Leave it to me," she declared. She strode over to the counter, cutting in front of several angry customers and had a short discussion with the sales clerk. The young girl looked confused for a moment, before darting back into the storeroom and returning with an older, matronly-looking woman with grey hair tied in a messy bun. Tonks took her aside and they had another brief conversation, during which Tonks gestured towards Harry and Hermione several times.
When they had finished, Tonks walked back to Harry and Hermione and said they were going to Madame Malkin's office. "I showed her my Auror identification. I told her I was undercover, and that you were, too, Harry. Only I didn't tell her your name - just said you were Polyjuiced and would need to be measured. She gave me this and said we could use her office," Tonks explained, holding up one of the charmed measuring tapes. It flapped in her hand helplessly. "We'll just wait there for the Polyjuice to wear off, then measure you ourselves. They can make your robe to order."
"Good idea," Harry said.
Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were sitting on the floor of Madame Malkin's office, waiting for Harry to change back. Hermione was reading through her textbooks with astonishing rapidity, while Tonks was shifting her hair into a variety of strange colours and thinking up new nicknames for Percy.
"Percy Pee-Pants!" she announced. "Or is that too juvenile? Maybe Perci-vile?"
Harry did not have a chance to critique these suggestions before he felt his skin begin to crawl as his body reverted to its normal self. It was terribly uncomfortable and he grimaced through the entire process. When it was over, Harry stood stiffly in his now too-tight clothing and sighed.
"That didn't take too long!" Tonks said cheerfully. "Let's get you measured."
She released the measuring tape and sent it towards Harry with a flick of her wand. It fluttered around him like a long, thin butterfly, stretching itself beside each of his limbs and wrapping around his chest, waist, and neck. When it was finished, it reported back the measurements to Tonks who wrote them down on the back of a used piece of parchment.
"Done," Tonks stated, grabbing the measuring tape again and stuffing it into her pocket. "You'll have to drink the last of the potion now, Harry. So whatever shopping you had in mind, remember - we've only got an hour."
Harry nodded and downed the last of the vile liquid. When the transformation had completed once more, Hermione packed up her books and they went back out into the main store.
The rush had died down some and the seamstress who had tried to help them earlier was soon free again to finish the job. When Hermione was done being measured, she explained that Harry no longer needed new robes, but that they needed to have one more Gryffindor set made - this one for a 'friend who could not make it today' - with the specific measurements that Tonks provided. If the seamstress found this odd, she did not comment, and ten minutes later, both sets of robes were complete and paid for. Tonks left the measuring tape at the counter and the three made their way back outside.
With their remaining time, Harry, Hermione, and Tonks dashed between Quality Quidditch Supplies, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Knits and Bits. By the time they were done, they had trouble carrying all their purchases.
"I was hoping we might run into Ron," Harry admitted as they made their way back to the floo station. "I haven't heard back from him since we got our O.W.L. results."
"I'm sure he's just been busy with family," Hermione assured. "He told me Bill is staying at their house again. He and Fleur seem to be getting serious and Ron doesn't care for it."
"How serious?" Harry asked, sounding surprised.
"Well, I imagine they're likely to be engaged soon, from the sound of it. And why do you want to know? You're not hung up on Fleur, too, are you?" she asked suspiciously.
"What? Where did you get that idea? I've never been interested in Fleur."
Hermione peered at him critically as if assessing whether he was being truthful before making a non-committal sound.
Tonks moved aside as they arrived at the row of fireplaces. "This is where I leave you," she announced before turning to Harry with a mischievous look. "Aren't you going to give your old mum a kiss?"
"No," Harry said at once.
"You're no fun," she replied. She gave them both a wave and stepped away so they could enter the fireplace. "See you around, you two!"
Harry and Hermione each said their goodbyes and thanked her for her help before they turned and vanished into the fire.