Harry Potter and the Bodacious Bodyguard

Disclaimer: I'm neither British nor female, and I'm definitely not a billionaire. I don't own Harry Potter.

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Many years later, Harry Potter would remember this day as the exact moment that everything changed—the exact moment that his life went from miserably awful to merely awful. That's not a radical change, of course, but sometimes it takes just one tiny event to send one's life flying arse-over-tea kettle. The merely awful might suddenly become the mostly tolerable, and the mostly tolerable might eventually become the blissfully happy.

The tiniest pebble can cause the mightiest avalanche, as a muggle might say.

Of course, Harry didn't recognize that at the time. At the time he was wallowing in misery, grieving the death of a fellow student—a death he felt responsible for—and afraid he might not see his next birthday. It's hard to be optimistic when there's a powerful and immortal psychopath hell-bent on your death.

That's why he failed to recognize the event for what it was. Though, given his history, he could be forgiven for not expecting the tiny pebble of chaos that would cause the desperately needed avalanche. He was Harry Potter, after all, and he already knew that Fate considered him its bitch. He didn't yet realize that a little chaos could cause Fate some major headaches.

It all started with a dementor…

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"Dudley, you moron, you're going to get us killed!"

Harry cursed as he searched for the wand that had slid out of his grasp. His porcine cousin was lying on the ground, gibbering in fear of only God knew what.

Meanwhile the dementors were drawing closer, so close that he could hear their rattling breaths. The alley was almost pitch black and the air felt frigid.

"Lumos!" he screamed in desperation.

The wand lit up a few feet away, and Harry grabbed for it in relief. But before he could cast his patronus, a glowing silvery piglet flew by his head toward the approaching dementors. He stared in shock for a moment. He could have sworn he heard it oinking as it passed. He recovered quickly and joined the fray, not wanting to look a gift pig in the mouth.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The ethereal stag leapt from his wand and barreled toward the dementors with blazing speed. The two patroni—piglet and stag—met the monstrous beings at the same time, driving them away. He watched as they disappeared in the distance, moving much more quickly than he thought possible. The doom and gloom permeating the alley lifted, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. That had been far too close.

A whine from his cousin caught his attention. Despite the absence of danger, Dudley remained in the fetal position on the ground.

"Horrible," he whimpered. "Horrible. So much hair…and the grunting, oh my God, make it stop."

Harry winced, not really wanting to know why Dudley's worst memories would involve hair and grunting. He was nonetheless relieved that his cousin hadn't been kissed. He couldn't imagine what Uncle Vernon would have done to him.

He looked cautiously in the direction the other patronus had come from.

There was an unfamiliar woman walking toward him, her wand still held aloft and an invisibility cloak in her other hand. He raised his own wand defensively, not yet certain if she was friend or foe.

"Oy, no need to point that thing at me!" she remarked loudly.

Now that she was closer, he could see that she was, in fact, fairly young. She looked like she might have been in Hogwarts not very long ago.

He was baffled by her appearance. She was clearly a witch, but she was dressed like some sort of muggle punk rocker. Her hair was pink and fashioned into a jagged bob. She was wearing combat boots, torn blue jeans, and a black t-shirt advertising some band. Either she knew her way around the muggle world, or she was clueless about how the average muggle dressed.

"Who are you?" he asked warily as she approached.

She blinked at his tone. "Yes, yes; you're quite welcome, Harry Potter. No need at all to thank for me for saving your life."

"Thank you for helping me, but I had it well in hand. Did you not see my patronus?"

The woman grinned. "I saw you fall on your arse and get roughed up by that tub of guts over there. Saw you fumble around in the dark too, while you were about to get a sloppy kiss—and not the good kind. Good thing I had your back, eh?"

Harry frowned, still not lowering his wand completely. Never mind the dementors—why was there a witch in Little Whinging?

"Who are you?" he repeated.

"Name's Tonks. Just Tonks," she replied cheerily. "And that was a huge patronus, by the way. I'm impressed. Didn't realize they taught it at Hogwarts now."

"They don't. It's, er, nice to meet you Tonks, but why are you here?"

"Well, I'm your bodyguard for the day, of course. Why else would I be here?"

"My…bodyguard?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "Aye. You didn't know you had bodyguards?"

"Must have slipped everyone's mind to tell me. Have you been watching me all summer?"

"Me and a few others. No need to glare daggers at me; I thought the Headmaster told you."

He finally relaxed and crossed his arms. "No, he didn't. Because that would have made sense. It would have made me feel less like I was in prison. It would have given me a way to get information and pass messages to my friends. We can't have that when—"

Tonks' eyebrows slowly rose at Harry's rant. It was interrupted by the appearance of a large barn owl, which hovered in front of him and gave a shrill hoot.

He glared at it and reached for the letter it was carrying.

"Don't be an idiot!" she yelled. "It might be booby-trapped."

He pulled his hand away quickly, remembering the portkey trick that had recently resulted in Voldemort's resurrection. He watched as she stepped forward and waved her wand over the owl's letter.

"It's clean. Ministry post, from the looks of it."

Harry took the letter and opened it. His eyes grew wide. "I've been expelled," he whispered in a daze. "The Ministry is sending someone to snap my wand."

"What?! Give me that." Tonks grabbed the letter out of his hand and perused it.

"What a load of shite! They can't snap your wand for a bit of underage magic. The Statute doesn't even matter if it's self-defense."

He wanted to believe her. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm an Auror. Don't worry about this. I witnessed the whole thing. But how the hell did an owl get here this fast?"

He nodded uncertainly, unable to decide if he was more relieved or confused. "You are an Auror?"

"No need to sound so surprised, boy wonder. I'm young, but I know what I'm doing. Now let's get you and tubby over there back to your aunt's and I'll go clear this up. Don't give your wand to anybody."

He watched, still bewildered by the events of the afternoon, as Tonks tried to pull Dudley to his feet. It was like watching a cat trying to lift a Saint Bernard.

"Bloody hell, are you made out of bricks?" she gasped, pulling with all her weight.

The huge boy still seemed almost catatonic, whispering at something only he could see. "Why is there so much hair? Why are you moaning? Mummy?"

Harry winced, really not wanting to know what was going on in his cousin's head. Tonks was snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Oy, butterball. Snap out of it. What's the matter with you?"

He tried not to laugh. The witch seemed to like his cousin about as much as he did. "Maybe dementors affect muggles worse than wizards," he offered. "He can't have many bad memories, as spoiled as he is."

She nudged Dudley with her boot, then shrugged. "As long as he can walk, it's not my problem. I may have to levitate him otherwise. It would take a lorry to carry him back without magic."

Tonks tried and failed again to lift him. "Give me a hand here, yeah?"

Harry grabbed an arm and lifted along with her, but they only managed to pull him to a sitting position. Dudley continued to ignore them and moan. Tonks noticed that Harry's arms were shaking.

"You alright there?" she asked, looking him over speculatively. "Not injured anywhere? Dementors are no joke, and this little fellow did land on top of you."

He sighed. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his body was shaking a bit from his exertions. It didn't help that he had hadn't eaten much recently, something he couldn't blame entirely on the Dursleys.

"I don't—" Harry began, then gasped as Tonks began roving her hands all over his body without waiting for an answer.

"—think so," he finished.

"I don't feel anything out of place. You're probably good. Healing spells are not really my thing anyway."

Harry shook his head, not quite able to understand how this witch could be an Auror. "Let's just get out of here."

"Righto," she agreed, finally giving him some space.

"Oy, Dursley, can you walk?" she shouted in Dudley's face. The boy blinked and wiped some drool from his chin.

"I, er…what?"

"I'll take that as a yes." She grabbed Dudley's arm and pulled him toward the alley exit. He slowly rose from the ground. "Let's get back to your aunt's house, Harrikins. I need to file a report."

The trio walked slowly back toward 4 Privet Drive, their progress hampered by Dudley's condition. Harry smelled something acrid coming from him, and suspected his cousin might have wet himself.

They had almost made it home when a pair of pops in the neighboring yard signaled the arrival of newcomers. Harry and Tonks trained their wands on the location as two wizards in Auror robes appeared out of thin air. The Aurors frowned at the wands pointed at them, but did not raise their own.

The squirrely looking one of the pair stepped forward.

"Harry Potter? The Ministry of Magic demands that you surrender your wand forthwith. You have been expelled from Hogwarts for underage magic and for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. You must present yourself at a later date for a hearing."

"Sod off, Dawlish," Tonks retorted. "I witnessed the whole thing, and nobody gets a wand snapped for underage magic."

Both Aurors stared at her.

"Tonks? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Combating Ministry incompetence, looks like. What are you doing here is the better question."

Dawlish narrowed his eyes. "We don't answer to you, Junior Auror Tonks. Now stand aside or I'll have your job."

"I don't answer to you either, Senior Auror Dawlish. We both answer to Director Bones. Who sent you here for an underage magic notice? She certainly didn't."

The other Auror answered. "It's none of your business where our orders came from. We know the boy cast a spell. We're here to take his wand, so stand aside."

"So there's not going to be an investigation into why Harry-bloody-Potter of all people cast a Patronus? You're just going to snap his wand? Morgana's minge, we just got attacked by dementors in a muggle neighborhood! Why don't you investigate that?"

The two looked at each other knowingly. "We were told he'd have some ridiculous excuse. We'll be taking his wand regardless."

"The hell you will. We can sort it out at the Ministry, but nobody's getting a wand snapped. We're going inside now. You two should scamper off now like good little Senior Aurors."

Harry groaned when he saw both men raise their wands. He was already in trouble, and didn't want to add 'assaulting an Auror' to his list of charges. But he couldn't just let them take his wand. There was far more at stake than an underage magic charge.

He prepared to cast a shield, praying desperately that they could avoid a fight. His hopes were dashed when both Aurors fired stunning spells at Tonks. She shielded herself and then dodged another spell, but Harry knew she was in a tough situation. Both opponents were focusing on her and ignoring him, and she wouldn't last forever against those odds. He hesitated only a moment before acting.

"Stupefy!"

The red jet from his wand crossed the distance toward Dawlish in a heartbeat. The Auror parried it away at the last moment, a shocked expression on his face. Apparently he hadn't expected a student to raise a wand against him, even if it was Harry Potter.

Dawlish shot him a disdainful look and returned a flurry of spells. Harry hastily shielded himself, but could do little more than that against the onslaught. Suddenly everything was chaos and noise and light. He gritted his teeth, hoping the shield would last. He didn't want to know what would happen if it failed.

He threw everything he had into the spell, willing it to withstand the battering ram assaulting it. He could feel his strength faltering when the pressure suddenly stopped. He glanced to the side and was relieved to see Tonks' opponent lying on the ground unconscious.

Dawlish cursed and backed away from him, his attention now on defending himself from a very angry witch. She pelted him with stunners, forcing him to shield, while he danced around on grass that was growing rapidly and trying to grab his ankles.

Harry saw his opening and took it. Dawlish stepped cautiously over a wriggling vine of grass, and a simple tripping jinx sent him sprawling to the ground. A moment later his wand sailed through the air into Tonks' outstretched hand.

All three were breathing heavily after their impromptu duel. Harry was stunned at how fast everything had happened. Dawlish glared furiously, his face a shade of red that Harry had only seen on his Uncle Vernon.

"Return my wand immediately," he seethed, "or I'll see that yours is snapped."

"Go bugger a house elf!" Tonks retorted. "You just started a fight in the middle of a muggle neighborhood! I told you we were attacked by dementors, you bloody moron."

Dawlish slowly rose. He glanced at his downed companion, noticing that the man's wand was resting nearby.

"Don't do it," Tonks warned. "Take your arses back to the Ministry and tell Madam Bones I'm on my way. And find somewhere else to apparate from. You're standing in some muggle's yard, for Merlin's sake."

Dawlish looked around, only now seeming to realize he was surrounded by muggle homes. He grudgingly grabbed on to his partner and placed his hand on a medallion swinging from his neck.

"I guess you'll just have to obliviate some muggles then, won't you?" he said. "You'll regret this insubordination, Tonks. The Minister himself will hear of it."

He and his partner disappeared with a whoosh of air.

Tonks deflated in relief. "Bloody imbeciles!" she exclaimed, staring at the space her colleagues had vacated. She looked around at the neighboring houses, trying to discern if anyone had witnessed their altercation. Dudley, having regained his senses, was staring between her and Harry in horror, as if they might sprout an extra head at any moment.

They seemed to be in the clear until a little girl no older than seven rode up to them on her bicycle. She stopped on the sidewalk and stared at their little group with an open mouth.

"Are you aliens?" she whispered.

Tonks sighed, then looked at Harry and winked. "Yes, we are, sweetie. I'm Princess Leia, this dashing young man is Luke Skywalker, and this svelte fellow is Jabba the Hut."

"Whoa," she said in wonder.

"Do you want to see our spaceship? All you need to do is look at this little stick."

The girl stared at her wand. "Obliviate!"

"Tonks…"

"What? I'm not being mean. Was I supposed to let her think we're aliens? Maybe you'd like to explain the existence of magic to her parents?"

"No, but you could have just told her we were shooting a movie or something. She wouldn't ever suspect that magic is real."

"Magic is real?" came a curious voice.

Both looked down to see the little girl staring between them again.

"Dammit, Harry."

He almost laughed, the tension from their battle with the Aurors draining away. "Sorry. I didn't say a thing about magic until you started talking about aliens."

Tonks smiled. "Nope, honey. Magic isn't real, but the tooth fairy is. Obliviate!"

The girl grew glassy-eyed and then frowned at the strangers in front of her. She cautiously rode her bike away from them.

"Merlin, what a mess," Tonks grumbled, watching her ride away. "Apparating into a muggle neighborhood. If anyone broke the Statute it was them."

"So, er, what happens now?"

She looked at Harry's nearby home. "Just stay in the house for now. You're safe there. Something smells rotten and I'm going to go sort it out. I'll have the Headmaster send Dung to replace me."

He wasn't sure he wanted to know who or what a 'Dung' was. "Right. Well, er, thank you for all your help, Auror Tonks. I appreciate you handling those two guys."

"Just Tonks is fine," she beamed, "and you're welcome. You helped me out quite a bit, you know."

"Aren't we going to be in trouble for that?"

"Nah. Well…a bit, maybe, but hopefully nothing too serious. Madam Bones needs all the competent people she can get, and they were out of line."

He nodded and stuck out his hand to shake hers. She looked at it and grinned.

"We've already fought a battle together, Harry Potter. We're beyond handshakes at this point, aren't we?"

She stepped in for what might have been a hug, but tripped over thin air and tackled Harry to the ground. She landed on top of him with her full weight, knocking the air from his lungs.

He gasped, struggling to breathe, and opened his eyes to see Tonks' face only inches from his. Her eyes were green, he noticed, and she had a few tiny freckles around her nose. He might have been imagining it, but he could have sworn her hair briefly turned a deep shade of red.

She stared into his eyes, seemingly as confused by this turn of events as he was, and he thought for the briefest of moments that she was going to kiss him.

She smirked as if she could read his mind. "Sorry 'bout that, old chap. Must have been the boots."

He swallowed thickly and nodded, a blush forming on his face.

She hoisted herself off him in one quick maneuver. Unfortunately for Harry, this process involved her knee connecting with his groin. There was an audible thump, and his mouth fell open in a soundless scream. He closed his eyes and assumed the fetal position.

Tonks winced and looked down on him with a sympathetic expression. "Oops. Sorry about that. Probably should have been more careful with that knee."

He gasped in response.

"Oh, lighten up. You'll be fine. I know what it's like to get kicked in the bollocks. Just give it a minute. Maybe find an icepack or two if the swelling sticks around."

Harry was in too much pain to inform her that she was a woman and could not, in fact, know what it was like to get kicked in the bollocks.

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"Do I even need to explain to you how badly you've bollocksed this up, Auror Tonks? You have no idea what I just endured. Three hours! Three hours I had to listen to that pompous fool. I barely held on to my job!"

Tonks grimaced at the barely concealed rage in her boss's voice. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't see another option. You know the stakes right now. I couldn't just let them snap his wand."

Amelia Bones adjusted her monocle and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I know that, and you know that. But the Minister and his pet bulldog couldn't care less. It was all I could do to prevent Potter's arrest."

"So he's, er, not going to be in trouble then?"

Bones shook her head. "No. With your testimony, they'd never get a conviction against him, and they know that. Plus it makes them look bad if there's a suspicion that dementors were truly there."

"Well, that's good, right? What about the little spat with Dawlish and Murphy?"

"He won't be charged, because he was technically defending an Auror and they started it. You, on the other hand…"

Tonks felt her stomach sink. "What about me?"

"There was nothing I could do. They couldn't get Potter's head, so they demanded yours instead."

"I had no choice. I…"

"I know you didn't. You did the right thing. But Fudge is determined to doom us all. You won't be charged, but I've been ordered to dismiss you."

Tonks' hair turned a dull, mousy brown. She had trained hard for three years to become an Auror. Her ambitions were disappearing before her eyes. "So that's it then?" she asked weakly.

"I'm sorry, Tonks," Bones said gently. "I know what a blow this is. But it's well-known that you have a problem with authority. Dawlish demanded your head on a platter and the Minister agreed with him."

She slumped in her chair, her hair seeming to wilt around her face.

"Now, none of that," Bones said. "This is not as bad as it seems. When we can prove that monster is back, I'll quietly reinstate you. Until then, however…"

"Until then I'm out of a job."

"Yes and no," Bones answered with the hint of a smile. "Officially you are no longer a member of the Auror department. Unofficially, I have another assignment for you. Off the books."

Tonks hair slowly returned to a vibrant pink. "Oh, yeah?"

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Harry spent the next three days isolated in his room, nursing his sore nethers and worrying over the Ministry's expulsion notice. They had been slandering him all summer, and now they had an excuse to finish the job. He didn't know what he would do if he faced actual charges for fighting with Aurors. He hadn't seen any other option at the time, but now nightmare scenarios about a cell in Azkaban were taunting him. He could only hope Dumbledore would come to his rescue.

He had received an owl from Arthur Weasley of all people, telling him not to worry and that the Headmaster had the whole situation in hand. That was mildly reassuring, but the lack of information since then had perturbed him. It seemed popular these days to leave him in the dark, even when he encountered random dementors on walks.

This new disaster did nothing to ease the misery he had been feeling since Cedric Diggory's death. He knew he wasn't responsible, but he couldn't help feeling guilty. If only he had been more selfish, or more skilled, Cedric might still be alive. His performance against that Auror had driven the point home. He would have been overwhelmed without Tonks' presence. How was he supposed to fight against Death Eaters and Dark Lords?

He wanted to be doing something—anything—to oppose Voldemort. Instead he was stuck in Privet Drive, unable to use magic or even communicate with his friends. He couldn't even talk to his so-called bodyguards. He had tried interrogating random places in the yard—even whispering a hesitant 'Dung' or two—before finally giving up.

When some new information finally arrived, it didn't come in the form he was expecting.

Harry heard a commotion downstairs and then a shriek from his Aunt Petunia. He thought he heard the word 'freaks' and 'giraffe,' but he wasn't certain. He collected his wand and aimed it at his bedroom door, not knowing whether to expect dementors, Death Eaters, or Aurors come to arrest him.

Heavy steps sounded on the stairs. Surprisingly, a polite knock on his door followed.

"Erm, who is it?" he called out.

"It's the Death Eaters calling to take you out for tea," a muffled female voice answered.

"Tonks!" he heard someone hiss, followed by a snicker.

Harry sighed and lowered his wand. "Come in."

The door opened and three people peered around his room curiously. In the center was Tonks, the Auror whose knee he had become intimately acquainted with. Flanking her were Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody. Hopefully the real one. His magical eye spun wildly, scanning the room for threats.

His former Defense professor—the one with a lycanthropy problem—grinned. "Hello, Harry. We're here to spring you from your prison."

"Damn straight," agreed Tonks. "Time for you to leave this tip. Pack your things."

"Really? I'm leaving? Are we going to the Burrow?"

Lupin smiled. "No. We can't tell you where it is until we get there, but you'll be safe. Padfoot and your friends will be there."

"Oh, thank God. Let's get out of here."

Tonks frowned as she looked around the room. There was nothing but a battered trunk, a beat-up desk covered with parchment and books, a bed more appropriate for an 8-year-old, an empty owl cage, and a dresser with clothes hanging out of it.

"Merlin, Harry, you need to work on your decorating skills."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to see you decorate a room with nothing in it."

He dragged his trunk into the center of the room and began piling things haphazardly into it. Only his invisibility cloak did he treat with anything like care.

Everyone looked on with bemusement.

"If you'll allow me, Harry…" Tonks interrupted.

He looked up at her.

She flourished her wand and yelled 'Pack!'

Virtually everything left in the room flew in a wide circle around him. Then it all tried to converge on his trunk at once. Most of his clothes, plus books, parchment, a ruined globe, and old food crumbs battled for supremacy. The result was that half of it spilled out of the trunk and onto the floor, leaving a bigger mess than the one he was trying to clean up.

He pulled a pair of his underpants from around his face and glared at Tonks. "I thought you were supposed to be one of the competent ones."

She shrugged. "I always was pants at household charms, no pun intended. Good thing you don't need them to catch bad guys, eh?"

Harry sighed and finished packing by hand.

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He got his third experience with a portkey soon afterwards, and it wasn't more pleasant than the first two. The group landed on a sidewalk in a neighborhood that had clearly seen better days. He looked around curiously, wondering how their sudden appearance didn't violate the Statute of Secrecy. What if some muggle had been looking out a window?

Moody handed him a scrap of parchment. "Read this, lad, and be quick about it."

He scanned it quickly. "What's the Order of the Phoenix?"

"We'll tell you inside. No telling who has eyes and ears out here."

Harry looked up and saw a massive, three-story Victorian townhouse appear out nowhere. It seemed to squeeze its neighbors out of the way. One look at it and he was certain he didn't want to go in there. No muggle haunted house had ever approached such authentic levels of creepiness.

Tonks grinned at his expression. "Welcome to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. Not much to look at, I know, but wait till you see the inside. It's even worse."

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed the intro. This will be a mix of adventure and comedy, and should run for about 30 chapters. I'll hopefully be updating every 10 days or so.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.