Any Day But Tuesday ~ Chapter 2
7 Ficlets written for 7spells
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Title: Any Day But Tuesday
Characters: Harry/Tonks
Prompt: Disheveled (Chapter 2)
Rating: mild R, I guess, for a couple four-letter words, mention of depression type issues, and some adult relationship stuff.
Word Count: 800 apprx.
Summary: Harry’s just trying to find himself, Tonks is just trying to find Harry
Author's Notes: Harry’s 21 in this, which I think would make Tonks about 28
Author’s Notes: this story is in numerical order, to read in sequence, see Prompt Table
Chapter 2
:DISHEVELED:
“What the hell are you doing?”
Tonks had never experienced the sensation of actually jumping in the air like a cat from fright, but she did so at the sound of Harry’s voice. She whirled around with her hand on her chest. “Harry!”
“I guess I should congratulate you, Tonks,” he said, voice raised over the traffic noise. “Not many people could have tracked me down when I was trying so hard not to be followed.”
“Now, don’t go spare, Harry, I…” she broke off. Partly because she realized there was absolutely no way to make this sound better than it was, and partly because she realized his eyes looked very red.
“Sod off, Tonks. Go make your report, tell the whole sodding office that I’m here every Tuesday afternoon for therapy with a Muggle psychologist!”
With that he turned and strode away down the crowded sidewalk. Tonks glanced up at the towering building he’d just come out of, only long enough to register the list of medical services on the sign, then jogged after him.
“Harry!” She hurried to catch up with him before he could disappear in the sea of strangers. “I’m not making any report! Moody doesn’t want a report, he just wants to be sure you’re being cautious, and well, excuse me for saying so, but obviously you’re not quite at the top of your game or I wouldn’t’ve found you. What if I’d been Lucius Malfoy?”
“Tonks, I can barely bring myself to care anymore, honestly.”
“Well, that’s exactly why you need me. Look, why don’t I just… tag along on Tuesday’s, there and back. As a friend. Or professional courtesy if you’d rather think of it that way. “
“No, thank you.”
“It would give you one less thing to worry about, wouldn’t it?”
Harry shook his head in disgust - a quick, distracted gesture that always reminded her of Sirius - and kept walking.
“How on earth do you talk with a Muggle psychologist without telling them about the Wizarding World?” she asked.
“Some things are universal, Tonks,” Harry said grimly.
“But… you have to be awfully careful, don’t you? I mean, if you let it slip you were flying ‘round the night before on a broom, well...”
“I know what’s safe to bring up and what’s not. I was raised a Muggle, remember?” he added in a dark tone.
Tonks did indeed remember. She supposed the Dursley issues alone would be enough to fill up an hour every week. She remembered the neat-as-a-pin house in Surrey and how it had creeped her out on an empathic level, even before she’d known why. And after she had learned why, well…. Tonks privately felt that Harry would have been better off raised by wolves.
Not wanting to press him further on the matter, Tonks was quiet for a bit. The pedestrian traffic thinned enough that they could walk beside each other without jostling too many strangers. Tonks knew Harry hated bumping into people. Tonks was pretty much used to it, herself. She watched her boots for a while, then ventured, “Is it helping?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said bluntly.
“My flat’s not very far from here,” she said. “Want to stop by there for a tick and have a cuppa?”
Wash your face and have a shot of firewhiskey was what she really meant. Harry actually nodded.
She felt absurdly giddy at this small concession, ‘Harry doesn’t hate me’ almost doing a relieved singsong in her mind. When they paused on a street corner, she caught a glimpse of the two of them in a shop window. Tonks was blending in by standing out, as usual, with her pink hair, multiple piercings, long purple coat. Harry was a study in black and white, his hair looked like a raven feather duster but that was the only disheveled thing about him, the glasses and tie gave him a business-like appearance.
It was a bit disconcerting, even for someone as inherently adaptable as Tonks. He looked older than her, but he was really younger. He looked more responsible than her, more mature, but she was really the one with the practical life experience, the job seniority, the flat of her own. They appeared polar opposites, but as the only witch and wizard on a street full of Muggles, they were really the same. Allies, and old friends.
~We look good together.~ The thought popped into her head from nowhere.
She was a little horrified at herself. Honestly, this was Harry, she was supposed to be watching out for him, not noticing how attractive he’d grown up to be. But it was true. And she was an Auror, after all, it wasn’t her fault if she noticed things.
At that moment, the streetlight changed and he started off across the road, walking out of the window’s reflection. Tonks’ gaze couldn’t help but follow after him.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Title: Any Day But Tuesday
Characters: Harry/Tonks
Prompt: Disheveled (Chapter 2)
Rating: mild R, I guess, for a couple four-letter words, mention of depression type issues, and some adult relationship stuff.
Word Count: 800 apprx.
Summary: Harry’s just trying to find himself, Tonks is just trying to find Harry
Author's Notes: Harry’s 21 in this, which I think would make Tonks about 28
Author’s Notes: this story is in numerical order, to read in sequence, see Prompt Table
Chapter 2
:DISHEVELED:
“What the hell are you doing?”
Tonks had never experienced the sensation of actually jumping in the air like a cat from fright, but she did so at the sound of Harry’s voice. She whirled around with her hand on her chest. “Harry!”
“I guess I should congratulate you, Tonks,” he said, voice raised over the traffic noise. “Not many people could have tracked me down when I was trying so hard not to be followed.”
“Now, don’t go spare, Harry, I…” she broke off. Partly because she realized there was absolutely no way to make this sound better than it was, and partly because she realized his eyes looked very red.
“Sod off, Tonks. Go make your report, tell the whole sodding office that I’m here every Tuesday afternoon for therapy with a Muggle psychologist!”
With that he turned and strode away down the crowded sidewalk. Tonks glanced up at the towering building he’d just come out of, only long enough to register the list of medical services on the sign, then jogged after him.
“Harry!” She hurried to catch up with him before he could disappear in the sea of strangers. “I’m not making any report! Moody doesn’t want a report, he just wants to be sure you’re being cautious, and well, excuse me for saying so, but obviously you’re not quite at the top of your game or I wouldn’t’ve found you. What if I’d been Lucius Malfoy?”
“Tonks, I can barely bring myself to care anymore, honestly.”
“Well, that’s exactly why you need me. Look, why don’t I just… tag along on Tuesday’s, there and back. As a friend. Or professional courtesy if you’d rather think of it that way. “
“No, thank you.”
“It would give you one less thing to worry about, wouldn’t it?”
Harry shook his head in disgust - a quick, distracted gesture that always reminded her of Sirius - and kept walking.
“How on earth do you talk with a Muggle psychologist without telling them about the Wizarding World?” she asked.
“Some things are universal, Tonks,” Harry said grimly.
“But… you have to be awfully careful, don’t you? I mean, if you let it slip you were flying ‘round the night before on a broom, well...”
“I know what’s safe to bring up and what’s not. I was raised a Muggle, remember?” he added in a dark tone.
Tonks did indeed remember. She supposed the Dursley issues alone would be enough to fill up an hour every week. She remembered the neat-as-a-pin house in Surrey and how it had creeped her out on an empathic level, even before she’d known why. And after she had learned why, well…. Tonks privately felt that Harry would have been better off raised by wolves.
Not wanting to press him further on the matter, Tonks was quiet for a bit. The pedestrian traffic thinned enough that they could walk beside each other without jostling too many strangers. Tonks knew Harry hated bumping into people. Tonks was pretty much used to it, herself. She watched her boots for a while, then ventured, “Is it helping?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said bluntly.
“My flat’s not very far from here,” she said. “Want to stop by there for a tick and have a cuppa?”
Wash your face and have a shot of firewhiskey was what she really meant. Harry actually nodded.
She felt absurdly giddy at this small concession, ‘Harry doesn’t hate me’ almost doing a relieved singsong in her mind. When they paused on a street corner, she caught a glimpse of the two of them in a shop window. Tonks was blending in by standing out, as usual, with her pink hair, multiple piercings, long purple coat. Harry was a study in black and white, his hair looked like a raven feather duster but that was the only disheveled thing about him, the glasses and tie gave him a business-like appearance.
It was a bit disconcerting, even for someone as inherently adaptable as Tonks. He looked older than her, but he was really younger. He looked more responsible than her, more mature, but she was really the one with the practical life experience, the job seniority, the flat of her own. They appeared polar opposites, but as the only witch and wizard on a street full of Muggles, they were really the same. Allies, and old friends.
~We look good together.~ The thought popped into her head from nowhere.
She was a little horrified at herself. Honestly, this was Harry, she was supposed to be watching out for him, not noticing how attractive he’d grown up to be. But it was true. And she was an Auror, after all, it wasn’t her fault if she noticed things.
At that moment, the streetlight changed and he started off across the road, walking out of the window’s reflection. Tonks’ gaze couldn’t help but follow after him.