The First Step

It took six false starts over three days before Harry could bring himself to contact Tonks directly. He might have given up if not for Dudley threatening to move in permanently. Dudley snored almost as loudly as Uncle Vernon had. Harry was beginning to dread nightfall, especially as he had not yet discovered a way to sleep without dreaming. Perhaps Dudley's nocturnal snorfling was the cure Harry had been seeking. Now, all he had to do was figure out a way to live without any sleep at all.

"Or quit griping about something that could be cured with the right assortment of pills," Dudley said around his morning toast.

"I was doing it again, wasn't I?" Apparently, Harry frequently talked out loud without hearing himself.

Dudley nodded.

"Bugger." He wondered what could be done to fix his inadvertent speaking, then decided he had more pressing concerns.

Dudley wisely returned to catching up on sports scores on the computer.

Harry went in search of his mobile, then decided he might as well contact Tonks the proper way. Or one of them. He wouldn't keep an owl again and only tolerated the ones Molly sent because ignoring them had resulted in her sending people to check on him. Since he was more than a little touchy about being surprised, that had not worked out well for anyone. He suspected he'd get a similar welcome from Tonks, which was why he'd been stalling.

"Time to swallow my pride and face the firing squad." He'd been slightly less afraid of Voldemort, though that might be the ensuing years dulling his memories. He took a calming breath, tossed the powder into the fireplace, and identified Tonks' address.

"Greeeeen!" The squeal of pure delight was followed by a fit of giggles.

"Teddy? It's Uncle Harry. Could you find your mum?"

"She's not a ferret," Teddy said solemnly. "But she might be for you."

Harry decided to let that cryptic statement go. "Thanks for telling me. Is she nearby?"

"What's a cow-git?" the boy asked.

"Um, I don't know." If he'd studied whatever it was, he had no memory of it.

"You have to know!" Teddy insisted.

"Why?"

"Cuz mum says you are one, so you must know what you are."

"I'm a man, Teddy. And a wizard. Sometimes." He muttered the last bit.

"I knew that." Only children could get away with such world weariness and disdain at obvious statements. Well, children and the late Professor Snape.

"Could you get your mum?" Harry repeated, hoping it would work.

"Come play with me," Teddy demanded.

"I'd like to, but I need to talk to your mum right now."

"No you don't."

"I don't?" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose against the oncoming headache.

"No."

Harry took a deep breath and asked the next question. "Why don't I need to talk with her?"

"Because he never comes around, so why should I welcome him just because he needs something?" Teddy mimicked his mother's voice a little too well.

"Could you maybe find your mum?"

"I didn't lose her," Teddy huffed.

I did. Harry swallowed the words before they could come out of his mouth.

"She's in the loo," Teddy said in what was surely meant to be a whisper. That changed quickly as the boy took an audible breath and yelled, "Muuuuuum! The daft bugger is at the Floo!"

Harry ground his teeth. He deserved all that and more, but not from the mouth of a five-year-old.

"Teddy!" Tonks called out. "What have I told you about saying such things?"

"That I shouldn't do it in front of strangers?" The boy's voice faded away.

"Hello, Tonks," Harry said softly.

Silent green flames were the only response.

He tried again. "I hear I'm a cow-git. Is there a uniform for that?"

"I expect what you have on will do."

"Could I come through?" The words were barely out of his mouth before she answered.

"No."

"Then would you come to me? I could open the connection."

"No." The word was simple, clean, no malice in it, no heat.

"Okay." He took several calming breaths. "I am very sorry for not having been in touch lately. I could list the reasons, but I'm guessing it wouldn't improve my standing with you."

"Not much."

"I don't know what to do or say to make this easier."

"You want this to be easy?" There was the heat. "You don't get it, do you? This is never going to be easy, because I don't have that luxury."

"And you think I do?" Harry fought to keep his tone even but failed.

"Oh, I know it. You don't bother to visit for months, and I'm left to wonder what I've said or done to make you retreat into your shell. I could handle that, especially coming from you. But I had to find a way to convince Teddy that he didn't lose your love. I told him you were busy doing important things, and would come when you could. You were off on an adventure somewhere exotic. You would return some day. Only you didn't."

"What an exciting life I must have been living." He could feel his anger, like a blade sliding along muscle and bone, but from the inside. "So much more exciting than fighting the monsters that appear every time I close my eyes for more than a second. I will have to come up with good stories to tell him, since you felt the need to lie."

"What was I supposed to say? 'Uncle Harry won't get the help he needs, so you're out of luck?' He's a child, Harry, and you're his godfather. I understand that you're going through hard times. I let it go, until you missed his birthday. You try explaining to a little boy why the man he knows better than any other doesn't think enough of him to show up for cake."

"I'm not safe!" Harry's bellow bowed the green flame.

"Who the hell is?" Tonks countered. "You act like you're the only one who's out of control, the only one who hurts. The one chosen to embody all our suffering. I know what you sacrificed, Harry. I know what was asked of you. I'll even grant you the title of savior of the world. That doesn't let you off the hook for failing the people in your life."

"Enough." He stepped into his fireplace and out of hers.

Tonks glared at him. "Did you not understand when I said no?"

Words failed him.

"What it meant was that I did not want you to be here at this particular moment." Her patient tone did not cover the hostility of her body language – arms crossed, feet set to fight, tension running through every inch of her. "So, why did you barge in on me?"

Harry tried very hard to make his brain function properly. Unfortunately, it was much too busy calculating exactly how long the towel – which gapped at her thigh in a very enticing way – could remain wrapped around her if she shifted like that again. "Um..."

"Well said." She did not shrug her shoulders, much to Harry's disappointment. A good shrugging would have done wonders for the conversation.

"Eyes up here," she demanded.

He felt the blush creep up his cheeks, as if he were still a boy, which was exactly how he felt. He lifted his gaze to her face. "Right. Sorry."

"Not really," she said.

He grinned at her. "No, not really."

"What you need is a good hexing." It was an empty threat.

He let his gaze travel the length of her. "Where are you keeping your wand?"

She flexed her fingers and the slender piece of wood flew to her. She did not point it at him. "Where do you keep yours these days?"

He opened his hands. "Haven't had much occasion to use it."

"I'd put money on it being in your back pocket," she said.

"You'd win," he conceded.

Her hair turned the color of ripe mangos, the fleshy bits, not the skin. He suspected she'd work herself back to the particular shade of green that indicated how displeased she was with him, but for the moment, he admired the rich, peachy-orange and the way her damp hair curled on her neck. A drop of water slid down her collar bone. He curled his fingers into his palm until the nails bit tender flesh, as he fought the urge to follow that droplet over her skin.

"See something you like?" she purred.

"Yes." Lying would be pointless.

"Then you shouldn't have walked away from it." She turned her back and moved to the door.

"Tonks, wait."

"For what?" she snapped. "For you to find time in your busy self-pity schedule to work in a little snogging? Not bloody likely. I'm going to put on some clothing, make certain Teddy has something to distract him that won't bring the house down on our heads, and then, if I feel like it, I will return to find out what you need from me this time."

All her fuming did not keep him from admiring the way the towel shifted across her backside as she stomped out of the room. She'd flay him if he said a single word about it, but some suicidal part of him wanted to compliment her anyway. The last time he'd tried to tell her how beautiful she was, she had put her long fingers on his mouth to stop the words she refused to hear. And that was when she had liked him. It was unlikely she'd be open to listening to him sing her praises now.

"I am a complete fool," he said to the empty room. He could think of few things as reckless as stepping into her home uninvited. And yet, her defensive spells had not triggered when he'd come through the Floo. Neither had she hexed him, even though he deserved it. It might not have been the best reunion, but it was far better than he had any right to expect.

So far.

He dropped onto his favorite chair and settled in to see what came next.

For itchyfoot, whose clever prompt took hold and won't let go.