TheBlackEarl
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Aspirations Ch. 29
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 16:30:03 +0000 UTCA/N: All characters involved in this work of fiction are adults.
Harry politely pushed through the crowd at Flourish and Blotts, dodging excited witches and wizards who kept trying to shake his hand. This was his first outing in public since the second task, and people wanted to congratulate him for saving all three hostages.
He'd taken every opportunity to promote the lozenge, crediting it with his performance in the lake, and he could see it’d worked as intended.
"Mr. Potter!" A witch with graying hair thrust a large photograph at him. "Could you sign this? My grandson thinks you're brilliant!"
Harry took the photo with a small smile and signed it, noting that it had been taken after the second task. If he recalled correctly, it was mere seconds later that Fleur had kissed him in front of everyone. Understandably, that photo was not in his face. He didn’t think the woman would give a signed photograph of him and a scantily clad woman making out to her grandson.
He handed the woman the photo back with a polite smile and continued toward Gringotts. The twins were meeting with potential investors today, and he wanted to check on the vault they'd set up for their business ventures.
The goblin at the counter barely looked up when Harry approached. "Business Vault?"
"That's right."
"Your associates made a deposit. Large one. The vault is expected to remain well-funded."
It took him most of the day but once he was done with his business in Gringotts, he walked down Diagon Alley, noting how many people still stared. The attention bothered him less than it used to, but it never fully disappeared. At least most of them seemed positive about his tournament performance.
A group of young witches who he assumed were barely out of Hogwarts giggled as he passed Madam Malkin's. One of them called out, "Harry! Is it true about you and Fleur Delacour?"
He pretended not to hear and ducked into Knockturn Alley, standing right near the entrance. The shadowy street offered relief from the crowds, though several unsavory characters eyed him with interest. Harry kept his wand hand ready and walked quickly toward the meeting spot Tonks had suggested in her letter.
The Leaky Cauldron's back entrance led to a small courtyard few people knew about. Harry checked his watch. Still ten minutes early. He leaned against the brick wall and tried to organize his thoughts about the conversation ahead.
Tonks had written to him, saying she had news about Sirius and wanted to meet somewhere private. She'd also mentioned wanting to hear about his tournament adventures firsthand, and her letter had carried the same playful tone he remembered from their first meeting.
A witch hurried past him carrying a cage of Cornish Pixies. The creatures screeched and rattled their prison, making Harry wince. He'd had enough of magical creatures for a while.
Footsteps echoed in the courtyard, and Harry looked up to see a familiar figure approaching, though her hair was now longer, a vibrant purple instead of pink.
"Harry," Tonks said, grinning as she walked toward him. "Right on time. I like that in a man."
"Tonks." He straightened up. “Looking different from usual.”
“Noticing how I look, are you?” She remarked teasingly as she got closer. “It’s just the hair, but I can change something else if that’s your jam.”
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, chuckling as he returned the surprising hug she gave him. He was sure she had enlarged a certain anatomy of hers the moment they hugged, given the way he felt her firm globes pressing against his chest. He did not comment on it though, and as they pulled away, she gave no indication toward it either.
Fair enough.
"Thanks for meeting me here. You said something about Sirius?" Harry asked, leaning back against the wall.
"Yeah, and I’m sure he’s eager to hear about your little lake adventure, that lecherous old codger. But we'll get to that." She smirked and looked him up and down. "You look good, by the way. Fame suits you better than I expected."
Harry let out another chuckle. He’d used his fame quite a lot lately, and he knew that. "I’ve come to understand it has its uses. I’m not sure how well it suits me though."
"Oh, I am. You've got that confident thing going now. It's attractive." Her hair shifted to a deeper purple as she eyed him with an enigmatic smile. Harry’s lips quirked a bit, wondering what her game truly was. Jump him right away? He didn’t know for sure, but he certainly hoped so.
Before he could speak, she continued, "Though I hear you've been busy with more than just the tournament."
"What do you mean, exactly?"
"Come on, Harry. Half the wizarding world saw that French girl kiss you. The other half read about it in the Prophet." Tonks said, her lips curving as she stepped closer. "Plus, word is you've been playing magical entrepreneur. My parents are quite impressed with your business sense."
Harry shrugged. "The twins did all the work. I just made some suggestions."
"Modest too. That's cute." She reached out and straightened his collar, taking him by slight surprise as her fingers brushed against his neck. That was once again quite a forward gesture considering their current dynamic. He didn’t call her out on it though, because first, it would make things weird, and second, he was also curious of how much interest she had in him. "But I know better. You set up that meeting between my parents and the Weasley twins because you connected the dots. That takes brains."
“Wasn’t really hard. I mean, a solicitor firm with the name ‘Tonks’ in our world? It’s not a common name,” Harry said as he caught her hand once she finished adjusting his shirt, taking her pretty time doing so as well. As she looked up at him, her smirk prominent on her face, he continued, "And you left quite an impression last time. It wasn’t easy to forget the name.”
Her lips quirked a bit more, and Harry straightened, leaning back against the wall.
“But you're not here just to talk about my business dealings."
"No, I'm not." Her voice dropped slightly, her demeanor growing just a bit more serious. "But we should go somewhere more private for the rest of this conversation. Come. I know just the place."
Harry stared at her for a moment before he gave her an understanding nod and took the hand she was holding out. A sharp crack echoed in the silent alley as she apparated them away.
-Break-
“This place is getting way too familiar,” Harry muttered under his breath.
“Hmm? You said something?”
“Nothing,” Harry replied. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
Together, they walked through the double doors of The Three Broomsticks, and as if like a moth to a flame, Rosie’s gaze drew instantly to Harry. Her eyes brightened, her lips curving into the sultry smile Harry had come to recognize all too well, as they made their way over to the counter.
“Well, well, look who we have here,” Rosie said, grinning. “Back for more so soon, Mr. Potter?”
“Wotcher, Rosie?” Tonks grinned. “Mind hooking us up with a private room in the back?”
“Little Tonks, well, not so little anymore,” Rosie slid a key forward. “The last room in the back, packed with all the privacy and silencing charms you may need. And don’t forget to call me for anything you might want.”
“Jolly,” Tonks grinned, picking up the key and grabbing Harry’s arm.
Harry allowed her to lead the way, glancing over his shoulder at a smirking Rosie who was undoubtedly thinking the same thing he was expecting her to think at this moment. And truth be told, he could not fault anyone for it.
If only what she was thinking were the truth...
-Break-
The Three Broomsticks' private room cost extra, but Tonks had made it clear early on that she’d be the one paying. She'd also insisted on ordering firewhisky instead of butterbeer, claiming they both needed it for what she had to discuss.
"Sirius is doing well," she began once they'd settled into the couch by the fireplace. "Better than expected, actually. Having hope again has changed him. He's been exercising, eating properly, even trying to clean up that horrible house."
"That's good to hear." Harry took a sip of his drink and stifled the usual cough. "What about his case?"
"Bosslady is building something solid. Your evidence helped, but she's been gathering more. Witness statements, old case files, inconsistencies in the original investigation." Tonks' hair flickered between purple and blue. "She thinks she can get a hearing within the month."
"Really?"
"Really. Of course, Fudge isn't happy about it. He's been making noise about procedure and precedent. But Bones has support from other department heads." She leaned closer. "This is actually happening, Harry. Sirius might be free soon."
Harry felt a weight lift from his shoulders. "I can't believe it."
"Believe it. Though Sirius is terrified he'll mess it up somehow. He keeps asking what he should wear to the hearing." Tonks laughed. "I told him anything that doesn't have holes in it would be an improvement."
"He'll do fine. When he wants to, Sirius can be very convincing."
"True. He convinced half of Hogwarts he was dangerous just by being himself." She took a long swig of her drink. "But enough about that. I want to hear about this tournament. And I mean everything. The dragon, the lake, especially the French girl who can't keep her hands off you."
Harry raised an eyebrow. For how much and how long they knew each other, this was a level of familiarity he was not expecting in this conversation.
"It wasn't like that," he opted to settle on.
"Wasn't it? Because from where I was sitting—and I was there, by the way, working security—it looked exactly like that." Tonks grinned wickedly. "She was all over you after you surfaced. Very enthusiastic about showing her gratitude."
"She was worried about her sister."
"I'm sure she was. But that kiss wasn't about sisterly concern." Tonks' eyes sparkled with mischief. "Come on, Harry. I'm an Auror. I notice things. Like how you two looked at each other before the task started. Or how she found excuses to touch your arm during the champion interviews later on."
Harry sighed, recognizing there was no point in denying what Tonks had clearly observed and was interested to know. It wasn’t that he had any obligation to indulge her, but he still chose to. "Alright, fine. We're... close."
"Close." She laughed. "That's one way to put it. So tell me, how does one get 'close' to Fleur Delacour, the French champion and a veela to boot? I imagine she has high standards."
"Why do you want to know?" He asked at last, deeming this interplay had gone on long enough on the trajectory Tonks wanted. Now it was he who wanted answers out of her.
"Because I'm curious about you, Harry Potter. You're not the shy little boy everyone expected. You're confident, successful, and apparently quite good with the ladies." She shifted in place and moved closer on the couch, their knees touching now. "I find that interesting."
"Interesting how?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, glancing down at their touching knees for a moment.
"The kind of interesting that makes a girl wonder what else you might be good at." She said huskily, leaning closer. After being with so many women, Harry had come to recognize when their voice carried a clear invitation, and right now, the bells were ringing. Unbeknownst to his inner wonderings, Tonks continued, "The kind that makes her think about things she probably shouldn't."
Harry stared at her with a critical eye. "Should I ask what kind of things?"
"Probably not. But I hope you will anyway."
Full-on forward it was then.
He set down his glass and turned to face her fully. "Why me, Tonks? You could have anyone. And after what happened with Fleur, people are going to talk if they see us together."
"Let them talk. I don't care about gossip." She reached out and traced a finger along his jaw, her eyes morphing to match his. "As for why you... well, you're attractive, obviously. But it's more than that. You're dangerous in all the right ways. You break rules when they need breaking. You save people who need saving. You don't back down from a fight."
"That describes half the Auror Corps."
"No, it doesn't. Most Aurors follow orders and file reports. You planted evidence to save your godfather. You entered a tournament designed to kill you and came out ahead. You've got that edge that most people lose when they grow up." Her hand moved to his neck, her thumb rubbing over his throat as she whispered, "I like edges."
"What about relationships? Dating? All that normal stuff?"
"What about it?" She laughed. "Harry, I'm not even twenty-five years old. I work a dangerous job in a dangerous world. I don't have time for white picket fences and Sunday dinners with the parents. I want to have fun while I can."
"And I'm fun?"
"I think you could be. If you wanted to be." She leaned closer. "The question is, do you want to be?"
Harry considered the question. He wasn't looking for a serious relationship. Things with Fleur, and everyone else worked because they all understood the boundaries and expectations. And this thing with Tonks felt similar—two people attracted to each other, no expectations beyond enjoying themselves.
"I might," he said finally.
"Might?" Her hair shifted to red. "That's not very confident of you."
"I'm being careful. I don't want to assume anything."
"Smart. But sometimes assuming can be fun too." She stood up and walked to the window, looking out at Hogsmeade's main street. "Tell me, Harry, what do you do when you're not saving hostages or building business empires?"
"Normal things. Practice magic, fly around, spend time with different people."
"Boring." She turned around. "What do you do for excitement? Besides nearly getting killed in tournaments."
"As I said, I fly. Sometimes I explore the castle. There are lots of hidden passages and secret rooms."
"Now that sounds more interesting. Any of these secret rooms particularly private?"
"Some of them." He was starting to understand where this conversation was leading. "Why?"
"Just curious about your hobbies." She walked back toward him, moving with a grace he’d never seen from her but one that looked particularly appealing. "I have hobbies too. Want to hear about them?"
"Do I?"
"I think you do. I collect rare books about magical theory. I practice advanced transfiguration techniques. And I enjoy corrupting famous teenage wizards."
Despite himself, he let out a laugh. "Is that a common hobby?"
"No, but I'm good at it." She sat on the arm of the couch right beside him, her hips resting against his side. "Of course, it only works if the wizard wants to be corrupted."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then I find other hobbies." Her hand began playing with the tips of his hair. "But from what I’ve seen so far, I don't think that's going to be a problem here."
Harry looked up at her. This close, he could see flecks of gold in her green eyes that slowly turned hazel. Her metamorphmagus abilities meant her features shifted slightly as he watched, subtle changes that made her even more striking.
"You're very sure of yourself," he said lowly.
"I have to be in my line of work. Confidence keeps you alive." She said as she leaned closer, and before he could react, she slid down into his lap, straddling his legs. "But it's also useful for other things."
"Such as?" He asked, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. Her smile widened.
"Getting what I want,” she whispered, her hands framing his face. "And right now, I want you to stop overthinking this."
"I'm not overthinking."
"Yes, you are,” she replied calmly. “You're wondering if this is smart, if people will talk, if it's too complicated." She leaned down until their faces were inches apart. "Here's a simpler question: do you want me?"
The honest answer was yes. He'd been attracted to her since their first meeting, and everything about this conversation had made that attraction stronger. She was beautiful, confident, and clearly interested. More than that, she understood exactly what this was and what it wasn't. The arrangement was clear for both. What else needed to be said?
"Yeah," he said. "I do."
"Good."
Her lips crashed against his in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was fierce, demanding, her mouth opening immediately to claim his with a hunger that sent a jolt straight through him.
Harry's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer as he kissed her back, matching her intensity. Tonks tasted like firewhiskey and something sweeter, wilder—maybe the essence of her, that unpredictable spark that had drawn him in from the start. Her tongue swept into his mouth, teasing and exploring, and he groaned softly against her, the sound muffled by the heat of their kiss.
She shifted in his lap, her thighs squeezing his legs as she pressed her body flush against him. The friction was immediate and electric; he could feel the warmth of her core through their clothes, right where his growing erection strained against his trousers.
Tonks realized it as well, and she rolled her hips, grinding down on him in a slow, sensual circle that made his breath hitch.
"Fuck," he muttered into her mouth, his fingers digging into the soft curve of her ass, kneading the flesh through the fabric of her skirt. She was firm and yielding all at once, and the way she moved against him—teasing, insistent—had him throbbing already.
Tonks broke the kiss just enough to nip at his lower lip, her teeth grazing the skin before she soothed it with her tongue.
"Language, Potter," she teased, her voice a husky whisper, laced with amusement and desire.
Her hands slid from his face down to his chest, her palms flat against his shirt as she explored the hard planes of his muscles. She scratched lightly with her nails, dragging them over his nipples through the thin cotton, and Harry arched into the touch, a low growl escaping him.
He retaliated by sliding one hand up her back, under the hem of her top, but stopping short of skin—just feeling the warmth radiating through the fabric. His other hand stayed on her ass, squeezing harder now, guiding her movements as she rocked against him again. The pressure of her pussy against his cock was maddening, even through layers of clothing.
He could imagine how wet she was getting, the heat building between them like a spell about to ignite. Tonks moaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine, and she ground down harder, her hips rolling in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart.
Her hair, which had been a vibrant pink when she first straddled him, flickered suddenly—shifting to a deep, passionate red that cascaded over her shoulders like flames.
Harry noticed it in his peripheral vision, and for a split second, he wondered if she was doing it on purpose, some metamorphmagus trick to heighten the moment, or if it was tied to her emotions, betraying how turned on she really was.
The thought only fueled him more, and he captured her mouth again, kissing her deeper, his tongue tangling with hers in a battle for dominance that neither wanted to win.
Tonks' hands weren't idle. She tugged at his shirt collar, exposing more of his neck, and leaned in to kiss along his jawline, her lips hot and wet against his skin. She sucked lightly at the pulse point just below his ear, then bit down gently, drawing a hiss from him.
"You taste good," she murmured, her breath warm against his throat.
Her fingers trailed lower, over his abdomen, feeling the taut muscles contract under her touch. She pressed her palm against the bulge in his trousers, rubbing firmly through the fabric, and Harry bucked up into her hand involuntarily, the sensation shooting sparks of pleasure through his veins.
"Merlin, Tonks," he gasped, his head falling back against the couch as she continued her assault. She chuckled lowly, the vibration humming against his skin as she kissed down to his collarbone, nipping and licking in equal measure.
Her hair shifted again, this time to a sultry purple that shimmered in the dim light, and he reached up to thread his fingers through it, tugging lightly to bring her mouth back to his. Was it deliberate? Or was her control slipping with every gasp and grind? The mystery made it hotter, like she was unraveling just for him.
Harry's hands roamed over her body, finally cupping her breasts over her top. They were full and soft, fitting perfectly in his palms, and he squeezed gently at first, then firmer, his thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened into peaks he could feel through the bra and fabric. Tonks arched into his touch, a whimper escaping her as she pressed her chest forward, encouraging him.
"Yes," she breathed, her hips still rolling against his erection in torturous circles. The friction was building, her pussy grinding down on him with increasing urgency, and he could feel the damp heat seeping through, making his cock ache for more.
He pinched her nipples lightly, rolling them between his fingers, and her hands slipped around to grip his thighs, then up to squeeze his buttocks as best she could from her position. It was awkward but insistent, her nails digging in just enough to sting pleasurably. Harry groaned, thrusting up against her in response, the clothed contact sending waves of need crashing through him.
He kissed her neck now, mirroring her earlier moves—sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to her shoulder. Her scent was intoxicating, a mix of lavender and arousal, and he buried his face there for a moment, inhaling deeply as his hands continued their worship of her breasts.
Tonks' hair flashed again, this time to a fiery orange streaked with gold, wild and untamed like her movements. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes dark with lust.
"Your hair... it's changing," he murmured, his voice rough.
She grinned wickedly, not missing a beat as she ground down harder, her pussy pressing firmly against the length of his cock.
"Is it? Must be because you're driving me crazy." But there was a glint in her eye that made him wonder—conscious control or emotional overflow? Either way, it was sexy as hell, adding to the surreal heat of the moment.
Her hands found their way back to his chest, pushing him against the couch as she took control again. She kissed him fiercely, her tongue delving deep while one hand slipped between them to rub his erection, stroking him through his trousers in long, firm pulls.
Harry thrust into her palm, his own hands sliding down to her ass once more, grabbing handfuls of her supple cheeks and pulling her tighter against him. He kneaded the cheeks, spreading them slightly as she rocked, imagining how she'd feel without the barriers. The over-the-clothes barrier only heightened the tease, every touch amplified by the denial of skin contact between them.
Tonks moaned into his mouth, her body trembling slightly as she increased the pace of her grinding. Her breasts heaved with each breath, and he couldn't resist dipping his head to kiss the cleavage exposed by her low-cut top. He licked along the swells, then sucked lightly, his hands cupping and squeezing as he went.
She arched back, giving him better access, her fingers tangling in his hair to hold him there.
"Harry... yes, like that," she panted, her hips circling faster now, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.
He could feel her heat, the way her pussy clenched and released against him through the fabric, and it drove him wild. His cock was rock-hard, pulsing with every roll of her hips, pre-cum probably soaking his boxers by now. Harry's hands roamed freely—up her sides, over her breasts again, pinching and teasing; down to her thighs, gripping the muscles as they flexed; back to her ass, slapping lightly once, just to hear her gasp and see her hair flicker to a deep crimson.
She kissed his ears, nibbling the lobes; he sucked on her fingers when she traced his lips. Their bodies moved in sync, grinding and touching, the air thick with their shared breaths and soft sounds of pleasure. Tonks' confidence was intoxicating, her every move designed to push him higher, and he gave as good as he got, exploring her curves with reverent hunger.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of building tension, they pulled back, both breathing heavily. Her lips were swollen, her eyes glazed with desire, and her hair settled into a tousled rainbow of colors—pink, red, purple swirling together. Harry stared at her, his chest heaving, and his hands still on her hips.
Tonks grinned, that mischievous spark back in full force. "See? That wasn't so complicated."
"No, it wasn't."
"And now you're wondering what comes next."
"Maybe."
"I have a suggestion." She grinned as she stood up and straightened her clothes. "My flat is more private, comfortable, and I have much better drinks than Rosie’s collection."
Harry stood as well, smirking. "That sounds like a very good suggestion."
"I thought you might think so." She moved toward the door, then paused and looked back at him. "Fair warning, though. I'm not the kind of girl who does things halfway."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll find out." Her grin was pure mischief. "If you're brave enough."
Harry followed her toward the door, fairly certain he was about to discover just how brave he really was. But as he watched her hair shift from pink to red to purple, he realized he was looking forward to finding out.
"One more thing," Tonks said as they reached the door. "When people ask about tonight—and they will ask—what are you going to tell them?"
"That it’s none of their fucking business."
"Perfect. Very direct and hot." She smirked as she opened the door and gestured for him to go first. "Though between you and me, I'm hoping we do a lot more than that fucking business."
Harry stepped into the hallway, rolling his eyes in mirth. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into, and it felt perfectly natural when Tonks took his arm and led him toward the exit. Several eyes turned to them, including Rosie who had a lecherous grin on her face, and although he knew this would be public gossip very soon, he didn't particularly care, and from how it looked, neither did Tonks.
He pushed all those thoughts out of his mind though. The moon was out, and the night was still young.
Tonks had promised to show him her hobbies... and more. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to discover everything she had to show him, one vanishing layer at a time.
TBC.
