Tonks hated it here, she really did. By Merlin's left nut sack, she hated it here.
The Ministry.
She stared at the stack of papers in front of her like they were cursed artifacts. Sometimes she wondered if they were cursed, because why else would they multiply like demented rabbits? She hated it, but she just couldn't leave.
Three years ago, Tonks had been "just another auror." A clumsy, overly energetic metamorphmagus with good instincts and a personality too bright for the stale walls of the Ministry.
Now? Now she was practically its spine.
After the Ministry made their very stupid, extremely stupid, Darwin-award-winning decision to challenge Harry, the whole dumb plan, the entire structure collapsed.
No leadership. Half the Wizengamot dead. Departments in chaos. The place was in shambles, but the wizarding world still needed a government, and she had not been about to sit back and watch it crumble.
She had watched the initial aftermath with a grim, sickening horror. The remaining few in power, instead of uniting, had instantly devolved into petty squabbles over who was "least guilty" and who could salvage the most prestige. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was reduced to a skeleton crew, and vital functions, like maintaining ward integrity around high-security sites or even simple mail routing, were failing daily.
The worst offenders were the opportunistic, those slimy, mid-level managers who suddenly saw an opportunity to ascend by hoarding resources or delaying essential rebuilding, hoping to profit from the collapse.
So she stepped in.
She started pulling more than her weight, outright ordering those who were still around to do their jobs. She didn't ask, she commanded, backing every instruction with the implied, undeniable threat of Harry's displeasure, if not, they would never even bother to listen in the first place. She mothered grown adults who should not have needed mothering. Slowly, she started piecing everything back together.
It felt like she was trying to sail a boat filled with holes, trying to keep it from sinking, but it got easier as the days passed. Before she knew it, she was basically running the place. She went from fighting the fight to spending hours doing paperwork and listening to people complain about even the simplest of things. She hated it. But she couldn't leave it, not yet anyway, not when even now things could easily fall apart.
Of course, it wasn't easy. She didn't just wake up with leadership skills and 100% trust from the people. Sure, the whole "Harry's girlfriend" thing scared people into line, but as proven by the sheer stupidity of the Ministry, even fear couldn't save man from doing stupid things.
A lot of people liked making her job hard. Some tried to demean her, others just preferred to let things crumble so that they could try and get whatever they could from the dying government and, like many others, leave the country.
She recalled one infuriating three-week ordeal where she had to manually track down and fire three different Department heads who were simultaneously selling off Ministry-owned artifacts and attempting to flee to Switzerland via unregulated Portkey.
Yeah, a lot of people left after the battle. Many were families of those involved with the kidnap plan, they had been scared that Harry would come for them next and had fled the country, leaving a lot of positions now more open.
The Dark faction was all but gone. The Neutrals had people who had been involved with the kidnapping plan, so you can guess what happened. The faction that suffered the least was the Light faction, though they lost a few for sure, people who had thought a child should not have that much power and that he needed a guide, someone to control him.
Yeah, well, they learned. Tonks even suspected that Harry had a hand in some of them, deciding to challenge him, just because the ones that had gone were all die-hard Dumbledore followers, though he most likely didn't expect them to have been part of kidnapping his girlfriend and her sister.
The irony was bitter, those who claimed the moral high ground were the quickest to assume they held intellectual superiority over the King, believing their 'Light' affiliations granted them immunity from the consequences of their arrogance.
She sighed, looking at a paper she was reading. 'Another one of those, ' she thought to herself. Since she became the head of the Auror Department—like hell she was going to be the Minister—she had gotten a lot of requests like these. Petitions asking for Harry's support, people wanting favors, and wanting to see if she could convince him to attend a political dinner or something similar like that.
There were also those times she had to mediate disputes before Harry lost his temper with some of the fools running around.
The Soft Power Behind the Emerald King.
She and her aunt were really the only ones keeping things from going overboard.
It had become something of a way in the wizarding world. She's the "soft power" to balance Harry's "nuclear option," and they know it, she knows it… and she's proud of it.
Her primary function was political triage, intercepting the inevitable foolishness before it reached the King's attention. If Harry saw a problem, he solved it decisively and permanently, if Tonks saw it, she solved it quietly and bureaucratically.
It helped a lot like that.
She cracked her neck. All this sitting and signing papers would make her rusty with her wand. It was one of the reasons she sparred with Anya regularly to keep herself in shape. Bending her head to the side, it cracked. Ah, so much better.
Today, she was going to put things on hold and leave early. She pouted, she hadn't had alone time with Harry in a while and needed her "Harry meter" recharged. The Ministry's demanding vacuum of need left her drained and often grumpy, only Harry's unique brand of reckless affection could truly reset her system.
Daphne and Harry had their own elegant pace of spending time together, often involving quiet conversations, shared enchanting projects, or political strategy sessions. Anya was one that seemed to just be content standing by his side, occasionally going on dates that Harry always made special for the knight.
But she and Harry.... fu fu fu fu. When they were together, their dates always, and she meant always, ended up in bed with just the two of them. No matter what they did, where they went, even just a small picnic, they always ended up in a passionate embrace.
They had once tried to just watch a movie, but somehow that day they ended up having sex in the bathroom of the cinema and almost got caught in the act. She had been so embarrassed by that one. It wasn't just the sex; it was the sheer, volatile energy they shared, a chaotic physical passion that mirrored the recklessness of their personalities.
So after a while, she declared that they were going to do it, have a date that ended just normally, no sex or anything.
She failed.
Every date always ended the same. It seemed that while she made it her mission to finish a date without sex, Harry found it amusing and made it his mission to make her fail that mission.
It was a game of temptation and resistance. His strategy was mercilessly effective, relying on soft touches, suggestive whispers, and that infuriatingly innocent glint in his emerald eyes that made her body betray her vows within minutes. She pouted harder; she always lost and gave in. But she still hasn't given up.
Though it's been a while since their last date, with all the work she was getting buried under. After work today, she'd spend time with Harry, and they could plan their next date.
Tonks sighed, stamping the last document for the day. Enough work. She gathered her things, her hair transitioning to a hopeful, bright lavender as she anticipated the warmth of home.
Daphne returned home from her Girls' Night the next morning, leaving Black Manor and coming back to their shared home. Harry, from what Daphne could tell, was in his workshop, and Anya seemed to be in her room polishing her sword collection.
Daphne made it back to her room and dropped onto her bed. She had had fun with the girls and couldn't wait for next time. Though what happened at the end had gotten her a little confused. Luna had told her when they were leaving, "'He's almost done. Almost ready to travel.'" Those were the words the girl used.
She could somewhat guess who she was talking about, Harry. But what did it mean about being 'done' or 'ready to travel'? Daphne sat up sharply, running a cool hand over the expensive silk of her bedspread.
'Ready to travel'?
She had come to know that Luna knew a lot, knew things she shouldn't know, so she didn't doubt what the girl had said.
Was Harry leaving? Was he leaving them?
She froze at the thought, then shook her head. No, he wouldn't leave them, abandon them, that she knew without a shadow of a doubt. He had fought literal gods for them, for her, just to heal her sister, and built a home for their happiness. Abandonment was simply not in the emotional vocabulary of the man she knew. Still, she needed to talk with him. Harry was a lot of things. He was strong, kind, smart, and mature. He wouldn't just leave without telling them.
She stood up from her bed as she left the room.
Whatever Luna meant by 'done,' it signaled the conclusion of something, and she could guess it was a project of his, but what of the 'travel' line.
Daphne moved toward the living room after leaving her room, meeting Tonks in the hallway, the older woman seemly showing back now, her usual cool facade slightly strained by the worry in her eyes.
Tonks was the first to reach the door. She opened it—
—and stopped dead.
Harry Potter, Campione, Godslayer, Tyrant King of Britain…
…was jumping around the room like a little girl.
Literally jumping. Arms flapping wildly, like a frantic bird trying to take flight. Feet bouncing high off the expensive Persian rug. Making a high-pitched squeal like that of a teenage girl. His face was pure, unadulterated ecstasy, his jaw slack with astonished joy, utterly unlike the controlled, focused concentration they usually saw in him.
Both Daphne and Tonks stared, both their respective recent worries momentarily vaporized by the sheer, bewildering sight.
Tonks blinked. Her yellow hair froze with confusion.
Daphne whispered, the cool edge returning to her voice as she clinically assessed the scene: "…perhaps not that mature."
Harry didn't even notice them.
He was spinning in place, shouting, his voice slightly cracking with emotion:
"IT's ready! IT's ready! HAHAHA finally!!!"
Tonks stared.
Daphne stared.
And then Anya walked in from the hallway, her usual impeccable posture slightly softened, taking one look at Harry's joyful meltdown. She sighed deeply, a long-suffering sound of a weary knight used to the absurdities of her King.
"…I leave him alone for two hours," Anya muttered, tightening the grip on the belt of her tunic.
Tonks finally managed to speak as she watched Harry dance around in joy.
"Harry… love… are you okay? Should I call Poppy?"
He froze mid-spin, hair sticking up even more than usual, golden and green sparkles of divine energy floating off him like confetti, causing tiny fireworks around him.
Then he turned to them, and the sheer, blinding grin on his face was enough to make them take an involuntary step back. His grin was the brightest, most terrifyingly happy thing she'd ever seen on his face.
"Girls… I think I finally figured it out."
"Figured what out?" Tonks asked..
Harry's grin just grew wider. Oh, Tonks somehow felt a chill just from that smile alone.
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