Flying Without A Broom
Game of Tag
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Three
~ Game of Tag ~
Tonks was in the process of having a nervous breakdown.
At least that is how the young Auror would have described her current condition. As it stood Tonks was already convinced it was only a matter of time before her state of mind deteriorated into a full blown panic attack. That, of course, would be the perfect way to cap off the day. Pausing in her search Tonks took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, even though she had a feeling it wouldn't work all that well. But she at least had to try. After all, she was an Auror and that meant she was supposed to be able to keep her cool under fire. Nobody ever saw Dumbledore panicking, did they?
Of course not. Dumbledore never panicked. It simply wasn't done.
At the moment, however, this did little to ease Tonks' anxiety.
Everything had been going so well. More or less. The assignment was almost painfully easy to fulfil. Having shown up at Hogwarts at the start of term, posing as a sixth-year transfer student from the Tara School of Magicks, Tonks had quickly been sorted into Gryffindor. After that, keeping an eye on Harry was easy. They lived in the same tower after all, attended the same classes and Dumbledore had been very insistent when telling Harry not to try and avoid her. Naturally the young wizard was a little resentful of it, especially after the troubles he had been put through the previous year, but for the most part he had simply grit his teeth and accepted Tonks' presence.
His friends; Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been a bit more relaxed about it than Harry, although Tonks had caught a few disapproving frowns shot her way from the girls. Ron, on the other hand, had somehow managed to rope the Auror into joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team, resuming her old position as one of the Beaters. She might have been too clumsy to handle a Quaffle properly, but there was nothing wrong with Tonks' aim when it came to the Bludgers. She had proved that to the Slytherins, particularly that little snot Malfoy, during their first match when several snide comments had been sent her way.
So, aside from the fact that Harry had a tendency to glower at her, the year had been progressing quite well. She had been invited into the Defence Association, jokingly referred to as Dumbledore's Army, by several of the previous year's members. With Hermione's approval, and a dismissive grunt from Harry, she had joined in and begun sharing some of the simpler spells and techniques she knew - passing the knowledge off as something she had learned from a duelling club at Tara.
There had already been one attempt made on Harry's life, over the Christmas holidays, but the incident had been dealt with so efficiently and quietly that none of the students were even aware that anything untoward had happened. Tonks' suspected that Hermione was aware that something had happened, it was hard to get anything past that girl, but nothing had been said about it, so everything had continued as normal. Dumbledore had even authorized today's Hogsmeade weekend, the first one of the year.
True, there was admittedly some risk, a fair bit of it, in letting Harry wander off the school's grounds, but almost everyone in the Order had agreed that something had to be done in an attempt to bring Harry out of his funk. Nobody could deny the feeling that his increasingly dark moods would soon reach a head and an explosion of some kind seemed imminent. And nobody wanted to be around when Harry finally cut loose. Fortunately almost all of the best students from the Defence Association had agreed, after some prompting from Hermione and Tonks, to accompany Harry into the village.
At which point everything had gone straight to hell.
How could she have missed someone spiking Harry's drink with Aquila, especially one as potent as what she had been able to smell from the empty bottle? She had been watching everything the boy touched in case it was somehow charmed or cursed to injure him. She had performed all the necessary Detection Charms immediately after purchasing the DA group's drinks from the bar. It hardly seemed possible that someone could have slipped the drug in any of the bottles during the brief journey from the bar to the table they had been sitting at. And even if they had, how could they have known which Butterbeer Harry would have taken? There had been nearly a dozen of them on the tray Tonks had carried. Somehow, only God and the perpetrator know how, they had done it anyway.
She should have realized something was wrong the moment Harry started smiling. Heck, now that she looked back, she should have been suspicious when she saw Harry frown and look curiously at his bottle. Obviously he had detected the Aquila, been able to taste it in spite of the sharp tang of the Butterbeer. Unfortunately he hadn't said or done anything, but had finished the drink without complaint or comment. Typical Harry.
The only good news, which did nothing to alleviate Tonks' anxiety, was the fact that she recognised the particular Aquila that Harry had consumed. It's official name sounded more like an entry in an encyclopaedia than anything else, but was commonly known as Black Lotus. This was good because, unlike most Aquila, Black Lotus was almost never addictive unless taken in large quantities over a long period of time.
The bad news, which did a great deal to enhance Tonks' anxiety, was the knowledge that Harry had unwittingly ingested Black Lotus. This was bad because, like most Aquila, Black Lotus would send just about anyone on a trip that would have them floating higher than a Muggle weather balloon. The problem lay in the fact that Black Lotus was a good deal stronger than most. In fact, it was something of a miracle that Harry had been coherent enough to stand upright, let alone perform any kind of magic. It also had a tendency to last disproportionately longer than the amount would seem to warrant.
In other words, while Harry need not fear becoming addicted to Black Lotus, he was hopeless high and unlikely to come down to earth for at least a day. Maybe two.
The perfect opportunity for Voldemort and his cronies to lay their hands on him.
"Crap," Tonks swore as she hurried down one of Hogsmeade's side streets, sweeping her gaze back and forth in an attempt to spot Harry. Thus far, much to her chagrin, she had thought she had spotted Harry's unruly black mop of hair twice. Unfortunately, it was only upon much closer inspection that she discovered, on both occasions, that she had been mistaken - which meant that she had accidentally assaulted two completely innocent strangers in the space of half an hour.
"I'm dead. Moody's going to kill me. Kingsley's going to kill me. Remus is going to kill me. Molly's going to butcher me. Dumbledore's going to be disappointed. Hermione's going to yell at me. Ron and Ginny are going to kill me. Fred and George... oh God, help me!"
She was so preoccupied with her litany of predicted death and dismemberment that she completely failed to spot one particular mop of unruly black hair until it slammed into her from behind with all the force of rampaging Minotaur.
"What the--!!"
The two of them toppled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, though in truth it was Tonks whose arms and legs were all a tangle. Her assailant, on the other hand, had both arms wrapped tight around her waist and his legs pressing firmly against her thighs. They rolled about for a moment or two until Tonks found herself laying flat on her back with him straddling her hips and pressing down on her body.
"Tag!" he declared in a bubbly voice, rising up so that she could see his face. He grinned down at her and poked his index finger against her forehead as he crowed, "You're it!"
"Harry!" Tonks exclaimed, a mass of relief, concern and downright bewilderment flooding through her at the sight of his familiar features. He looked much younger right then, sitting astride her hips and beaming happily. No, not younger, but for the first time since she had known him, Harry looked his age. He looked like a sixteen year old boy, who happened to be having a grand old time, rather than a sixteen year old man with the weight of the world and more on resting on his slender, but reasonably broad shoulders.
In a way Tonks was glad to see him like this. Even if it was artificially produced and not likely to last more than a day or so, it was good to see Harry free of the burden which had plagued him since that night when she had met him, nearly two years ago. This was how he was supposed to be, carefree and without a worry in the world.
"Harry, what on earth d'you thi-- mmph!"
Her question was cut off abruptly as Harry leaned down and covered her mouth in a kiss. It was such a surprise that it actually took Tonks several seconds before what Harry was doing sunk in properly. It was only when Harry, who didn't seem to notice that she was too shocked to respond, deepened the kiss that Tonks began to comprehend exactly what was going on. The faintest hint of Black Lotus on Harry's lips and tongue were enough to shake her out of her daze.
To her infinite surprise, and Harry's delight, Tonks found herself reciprocating - though she would never be able to explain why. From what she knew of him Harry had only ever had one girlfriend before now, a relationship which by all accounts had been something of an unmitigated disaster. She would not have expected him to kiss quite as well as he currently was. There was a confidence behind his actions that he should not have had. She supposed, as his tongue playfully danced against her own, that this aggressive and dominant behaviour was being brought out by the Black Lotus.
Perhaps there was something that could be salvaged from this mess.
"Tag," he whispered throatily against her lips, ending the kiss when the need for air became to great. He pulled away from her so that he could stare into her eyes, his own brilliant green irises burning with such passion that it made Tonks swallow nervously. Harry looked as though he would be quite happy to devour her right there and then, though there was a sparkle in his eyes that was more mirth than desire. He grinned wolfishly at her and finished, "You're it."
Before she could respond, either in words or in actions, he was gone. He vaulted off her and immediately began sprinting down the street, leaving a completely bewildered Tonks lying on the cobblestone ground. By the time the young Auror managed to regain enough of her senses to pull herself into a sitting position, Harry was at the other end of the street and about to disappear round the corner. He paused though, to glance back and shout over his shoulder.
"Come on, Niks!" he called, using her nickname for the DA. "Catch me if you can!"
TBC...