Chapter 14
The dimly lit room at 12 Grimmauld Place echoed with the creaking of ancient floorboards, as the weight of impending departure hung heavily in the air. Harry Potter sat alone on a worn-out sofa; his brow furrowed in deep contemplation. The ticking of an old grandfather clock echoed through the dimly lit space, counting down the minutes until the inevitable.
In just a few days, Harry would be leaving Grimmauld Place, the once-dreaded Black family home that had become a sanctuary for him and his friends. The prospect of leaving, however, stirred a potent mixture of nerves and restlessness within him. The room, filled with memories of both triumph and heartache, felt strangely oppressive as he stewed in a cross mood.
The shadows seemed to dance along the walls, casting an eerie glow on the faded tapestries that adorned the room. The weight of responsibility and the uncertainty of the future pressed down on Harry's shoulders, making the air feel thick and suffocating. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, unable to shake off the knot of anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach.
The thought of stepping out into the unknown, away from the relative safety of Grimmauld Place, left Harry feeling exposed and vulnerable. His mind buzzed with a myriad of thoughts, from the looming threat of Voldemort to the daunting task of preparing for the battles to come. The weight of the wizarding world's expectations bore down on him, and the mere idea of leaving the security of the old house sent shivers down his spine.
As the fire flickered in the grate, Harry's thoughts swirled like embers, each flame mirroring the uncertainty that lay ahead. The familiar creaks and groans of the house, once a source of comfort, now added to his restlessness. The very walls that had witnessed his moments of joy and anguish seemed to close in, amplifying his sense of confinement.
For the past few days Harry felt himself sink lower and lower into the depths of anxiety and frustration born from terrible nights of restless sleep, and a gnawing in his psyche that something was off for the past few weeks. Harry rested the back of his head on the top of the couch as he willed his current migraine away, but to no avail the pounding continued to foment a caustic mood. Harrys ears dimly picked up the opening of the door to the small study that he’d holed away in, and if it weren’t for the heavy footsteps of the black combat boots he’d so expertly learned to keep a keen ear out for he’d have given a simple glare to the new participant in the dreary room.
Tonks rounded the couch, her usually vibrant and colorful appearance subdued with a raised eyebrow and her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes, once twinkling with mischief, now held a hint of concern as they surveyed Harry's haggard appearance.
"What's got you looking like you've been wrestling with a Blast-Ended Skrewt, Harry?" Tonks asked, her voice a mix of sympathy and curiosity. She leaned against the armrest of the couch, her metamorphic features reflecting a genuine worry.
Harry let out a half-hearted chuckle, trying to downplay the intensity of his emotions. "Just the usual, Tonks. You know, the weight of the world and all that."
Tonks tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "This is more than just the usual. I can practically feel the brooding from across the room. What's eating at you?"
For a moment, Harry hesitated. The internal struggle was evident on his face, but he knew he couldn't keep everything bottled up forever. He sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair, and finally met Tonks' concerned gaze.
Harry, “Look Tonks as much as I’m chomping at the bit to explore the depths of my anguish, can you please just be like everyone else and leave me alone?”
Tonks eyes narrowed as her charcoal brown eyes grew darker, “Oh so I should just sod off then and let you sit here alone in the dark as though you’re some teenage punk with angst too dark for us normal folk to understand then?”
Harry looked away with a small frown, “Tonks you don’t get it…”
Tonks came to sit next to Harry plopping down as she kept her arms crossed and stared at Harry. Tonks studied Harry's tense form, her metamorphic features shifting in a mix of frustration and determination as her hair grew wavy and a deep-set purple. She leaned in closer, her eyes still fixed on him as she retorted, "I get more than you think, Harry. Maybe not all the details, but I understand the weight you're carrying. You're not the only one with burdens to bear and shutting people out isn't going to make it any easier."
Harry met her gaze again, his emerald eyes searching for a hint of understanding. "It's just... It's hard, Tonks. The pressure, the fear. I don't want to drag everyone down with me."
Tonks softened, her expression becoming more empathetic. "We're not here to be dragged down, Harry. We're here to stand beside you. We've faced dark times before, and we've faced them together. You're not alone in this fight, and you don't have to bear it all on your own."
Harrys eyes softened as his tone cracked with anxiety and sadness, and Tonks was pretty sure her heart did too, “I don’t want anyone else to die because of me Tonks. I can’t lose any of you.”
Tonks felt her breath hitch as she didn’t exactly know what to say back. Tonks knew that war was coming, and in war there were always casualties no matter how just your cause. All that you could do was limit the collateral damage as much as you could and learn to move forward as you could. But Tonks wasn’t talking to some new recruit. Harry had seen death and lived to tell the tale, and she couldn’t spin any yarn that magically it would all be okay.
Tonks leaned forward and cupped Harry’s cheek as she looked into his eyes with an intensity as she gave him the most courageous smile that she could, “You and me, yeah? We’ll get through this together.”
Harry searched her gaze as he released a slow breath and nodded. Harry, “Promise me you’ll make it through this.”
Tonks sucked in a breath as she gave Harry a simple and solemn nod. Tonks didn’t know what came over her. But she leaned in slowly and kissed Harry’s forehead and then brought him into a tight embrace. Harry reciprocated as his arms encircled her waste, and Tonks breathed in Harry’s scent. Something had shifted, and Tonks realized it wasn't just the dynamics of their friendship. In that moment, as they clung to each other, there was a subtle acknowledgment of emotions that transcended the boundaries of mere camaraderie. The fear, the vulnerability, and the unspoken longing lingered in the air, creating an unspoken connection that went beyond the struggles they faced together.
Tonks closed her eyes, taking in the scent of Harry – a mixture of worn leather and a hint of magic. The embrace held a bittersweet comfort, a realization that time was fleeting, and the world outside was unforgiving. Harry pulled back but kept his arms around Tonks loosely as she studied his face. The dark circles under his eyes evident of the lack of sleep, his hair was shorter on the sides thanks to Hermiones handiwork. But his small grin and slightly shy and awkward if not endearing expression left Tonks heart skipping a beat.
Tonks should have pulled away, stood up, and left the room knowing that she’d done a bang-up job cheering Harry up. Tonks should have put distance between them and let all of the heavy emotional wave’s crest and recede as she took the time to gather her thoughts. Tonks should have done a lot of things.
But Tonks allowed her dark gaze to flicker from Harrys all too enchanting green eyes to his pink lips that were too inviting. And it was Harrys next words that sealed the deal.
Harry spoke with a quiet, but earnest tone, “I don’t know what I would do without you Tonks, thank you.”
Tonks felt her chest warm at his words, and suddenly the thought of Harry going away for weeks to Hogwarts was an unbearable burden. The thought that Harry wouldn’t be just a room away to simply plop on his bed and cuddle while shooting the shite. The thought that Harry would inevitably be in danger even within the confines of the supposedly impregnable Hogwarts, sent a shiver down her spine.
The unspoken connection between them intensified, and Tonks found herself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The fear for Harry's safety, the burgeoning undercurrents of something deep and longing, and the genuine friendship they shared tangled together, creating a complex tapestry of feelings. As Harry pulled back slightly from their embrace, Tonks couldn't help but hold him at arm's length, her hands lingering on his shoulders.
Harry tilted his head in confusion as Tonks let herself be selfish for just this one moment. Tonks leaned in as she rested her forehead against Harrys. Harry spoke with a soft tone, “Tonks, are you alright?”
Tonks shook her head slightly against Harrys own, “I will be Harry, but can we just stay like this for a little while longer?”
Harry nodded against Tonks with a warm expression. Tonks leaned into Harry’s touch as his hand cupped her cheek, and Tonks hair now sported tendrils of raven black. Tonks felt Harry’s thumb smooth over her cool skin, and she relished the feeling. Tonks needed this. Harry’s touch, the closeness of his heartbeat, and the in and out of his breathing. The world outside may have been filled with uncertainties, but in the cocoon of this moment, there was a fleeting sense of peace. The burden of the impending departure, the fear for Harry's safety, and the complexity of their emotions seemed to fade away, if only for a while.
Molly’s voice ringing out from downstairs was the nail that broke the spell of the moment as Tonks released a sigh and pulled back before standing slowly, “We should head down before Molly sends in the cavalry.”
Harry nodded with a chuckle as he stood too and followed Tonks down to the kitchen. Tonks could feel Harry’s gaze boring into her form, and for the first time in a while she felt very aware of her steps. As they descended the staircase, Tonks couldn't help but steal a glance at Harry, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. The reality of their complicated emotions hung in the air, and the unspoken question of what lay beyond the shared embrace weighed on both of them.
In the kitchen, the bustling activity of the Weasley household greeted them, momentarily distracting them from the intricacies of their shared connection. Tonks exchanged a quick smile with Harry, the unspoken understanding lingering between them as they joined the chaotic warmth of the family downstairs.
"Sit, sit, you two. You must be hungry," Mrs. Weasley declared, waving her wand to summon more plates to the table.
Tonks and Harry exchanged glances, their shared moment still hanging in the air. They took their seats, the chaotic warmth of the Weasley dinner enveloping them. The clinking of cutlery, the chatter of family members, and the occasional burst of laughter provided a comforting symphony that temporarily drowned out the echoes of impending challenges.
Tonks finally stole one last glance at Harry who shot her a dashing grin, and she realized then and there oh bugger, Tonks fancied Harry Potter. And as she realized it in her heart of hearts; maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.