DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH: The Harry Potter series and all characters within are not owned nor created by me. This work is my copyright and may only be used with my express written consent.

PROLOGUE

"NO!"

Harry sat bolt upright, clutching at his scar. He'd had the nightmare again...Voldemort finding him, overpowering him, and aiming his wand at Harry's head. The snakelike slits narrowed in triumph, and he contemptuously muttered the words to the Killing Curse.

"Avada Kedavra!"

It was at that moment, when the get of green light shone forth, that Harry woke.

The dreams had started coming shortly after the end of the school year...after Dumbledore had died. He had only briefly gone to visit his aunt and uncle for what he hoped would be the final time. He knew Dumbledore would want him to have whatever protection that that invoked, but with everything that had happened over the last year, he could not stand staying with them a moment longer than he had to.

He'd been staying with the Weasley's for most of the summer. It was, for most of the Wizarding world, fairly uneventful, which was a blessing and a curse. No headway had been made in the fight against Voldemort, but as far as the Prophet had reported, no one had been killed. While the Wizarding community was relieved that no one had died, they hadn't heard anything at all from Voldemort or the Death Eaters. From what Harry could see of the public on his ventures into Diagon Alley, people were ready to jump at shadows. Relationships were becoming strained...everyone was worried that everyone else was under the Imperius Curse.

Harry had actually spent a great deal of time with Lupin over the summer. It felt to Harry like Remus had taken it upon himself to fill Sirius' role, and while Harry missed his godfather dearly, he had to admit that having Lupin along had helped him. If he hadn't fully healed, at least he was on the way to recovery. Over the summer, Remus had started teaching him many things. Advanced magic was certainly a part of it...several spells that Dumbledore had taught personally to Order members had been passed on to Harry. Under Remus' tutelage, he'd made great headway with nonverbal spells, and had actually developed some skill in Occlumency. Harry was actually shocked at his progress, but when he stopped to think about it, it made sense. He'd never been comfortable in a classroom(with the notable exception of when Lupin had taught him), but he had done well in his O.W.L.'s.

He was also learning some hand to hand combat. Moody thought it important that wizards should be able to defend themselves even without their wands. The training had helped him put on a bit of muscle in the areas that didn't get worked from Quidditch. He could tell from the looks he'd gotten at Grimmauld Place that Ginny and even Hermione had noticed. Truth be told, Harry enjoyed the attention a bit, but wished that someone else would notice.

All throughout the summer, being over and helping out with his training, she had been there. At first, he had treated her the same as always. But after...it...had happened, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her...her tight, curving body...her pretty, heart shaped face, and her ever-changing hair...he had barely admitted it to himself, but he had started to want her, very badly. It still hovered on the edge of awareness...thoughts of her came unbidden only in the twilight moments between waking and sleeping, and were never remembered.

But deep down, he knew.

It had started out simply enough. The Order members had explained to him that in the last war, Voldemort hadn't relied solely on fear. To lure someone to his side, he would often entice them...and for young men, that oftentimes meant seduction. Lupin actually thought that that was how he had gotten Pettigrew to switch sides. The short of it was that it seemed to many that Harry was an emotionally damaged and fairly isolated young man...exactly the type that would be vulnerable to sex. Harry smirked, thinking himself better than that. The talk that he and Lupin had about it swiftly left his thoughts.

And then came the test.

He had been out by himself, getting a butterbeer at Rosmerta's, when one of the the most beautiful women he had ever seen had approached him. Her hair was long and dark, and fell in luxurious curls. She was a good six inches shorter than he was, and while thin, her breasts were large enough to lend her that hourglass figure that he coveted. A few butterbeers later, and Harry was headed for a room at the nearest inn.

They got into the room and kissed each other in a frenzy. He damn near tore her clothes in his fervor to have them off. The woman then slid his shirt over his head, and in the split second that his shirt had covered his eyes, the woman had her wand out.

He was shocked and slightly drunk, but too trained to freeze up. His reflexes took over, and his hand snapped out to grab her wrist. He twisted, and she had to allow herself to be taken down or have her wrist broken. The takedown also affected her fingers, making her drop her wand. When he had her down, he placed his arm across her throat, ready to sink down his weight and crush her throat in an instant.

"That's enough, Harry!" said a voice that had not been the woman's voice five minutes ago, a voice that, however strangled, he recognized.

He eased off of her throat but kept her arm pinned, and before his eyes, her face, hair, and body...shifted. It became a familiar heart shaped face, the hair went back to a bright pink, and the body became more full figured.

"Tonks! How...why?"

Harry was too stunned to realize he should let her up.

"Wotcher, Harry. Dumbledore asked me to...wanted to make sure that if something like this happened you'd be up to it...and you were. Didn't think you were that quick, mate! Glad for it, though..."

Her words penetrated, and Harry relaxed. As he relaxed, though, he realized that Tonks was as bare as the day she was born. Although he knew he shouldn't, he eyed her up and down, slowly, lustfully. He drank in the sight of her...her large, full breasts, her suddenly hardening nipples...the rush of color at her cheeks. His gaze continued downward, taking in her hips, and he looked at the most private part of her...and had to bite back a laugh when she found her little landing strip to be as pink as the rest of her hair. His amusement didn't last long, however, and he felt himself grow hard.

"Harry...you're hurting me," he heard her say. But she didn't sound hurt. Her voice had been tight and breathless, but an older, very masculine part of him knew that it wasn't from pain. He looked at her face and saw his suspicion confirmed. She was biting her lip and her eyes were vague, unfocused. Thinking he understood, Harry tweaked her wrist just a tiny bit. When he did, she gave a short cry and looked away. She positively writhed, her legs rubbing against each other, her hand suddenly gripping her hair as if to keep it from doing anything else.

"I'm sorry," he said, and let her go.

"I'm...um, I'm going to shower, Tonks. We can talk about this after, all right?"

She nodded.

"Sure thing, Harry. I'll get dressed and wait for you."

He walked into the shower, and considered turning it as cold as he could. But he didn't. He turned on the hot water and began to wash his body off. He had cleansed most of himself in the hopes that his erection would have faded. However, when it came time to clean that part of himself, it was as rigid as it had been as when Tonks had been beneath him. Just the thought of having the suddenly extremely sexy Auror at his mercy sent shockwaves of desire through him, and he couldn't stop himself from grasping his shaft.

He was so on edge that every stroke was incredible. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the shower wall. After a minute passed, he was too into it to notice much else.

Which was a good thing.

Tonks entered the room, not wanting to wait any more to set Harry straight about what had happened. When she entered, however, she was the young man backed against the shower wall, eyes closed and head thrown back, rubbing himself in a frenzy.

She was about to reprimand him when her gaze went between his legs.The sight of Harry, with his new and improved body, rubbing his not inconsiderable member made Tonks tight and slick and hot, all the more so when she realized that he was rubbing himself because of her.

Her left hand cupped her ample breast, and her fingers worked her nipple. Wasting no time, and not wanting to be discovered, Tonks right hand found it's way between her legs, and she plunged two fingers deep into her crevice. She started fast, working herself in the ways that only she knew, driving herself to climax as fast as she possibly could. It had been no more than a minute, standing there, masturbating, watching Harry rub himself. As she reached the crest, she bit down on her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. She was a screamer, and knew it, and didn't want Harry to know she was there.

She came not a moment too soon. Right after she was done, she heard Harry groan, and had to stop herself from starting again as she watched Harry orgasm. It was powerful, torrents of seed flying out of him and falling to the ground to be washed away. Hardly believing that she had caused such a frenzy, she slipped out as he drew ragged breath and began to recover.

She had managed to compose herself by the time Harry had finished his shower. But when he came out, hair dripping, muscled body on display, her desire crashed back into her. Her fingers hadn't been enough.

Damn it, woman, you should have better control than this, she chided herself. He's still a boy! She crossed her legs and forced herself to ignore how hot she felt.

The conversation that followed was unimportant. A lot of "This was Dumbledore's idea", along with a couple of "We needed to be sure you'd be all right", but it was all Harry could do to listen and respond. He thought that taking care of himself in the shower would have been all he needed, but looking at Tonks, he remembered having her trapped beneath him. He remembered the pain and injury he could have caused her, and he remembered how it had excited her. The sense of power it gave him was intoxicating.

She left, and he apparated back to his room at the Weasley's. Thankful that it was empty, he made his way to his bed, suddenly exhausted. He threw himself down, and closed his eyes, and sleep, mercifully, came for him quickly. He didn't have time to think about what had happened, or how it had made him feel. For the first time since Dumbledore had died, he didn't think about how badly he missed the Headmaster, and he didn't worry about Voldemort. The only thing that entered his mind as he drifted to sleep was the thought of her.