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Harry Potter and the Paradigm Shift
Chapter 4
By Kinsfire
By the middle of July, Harry looked radically different from the boy who had gotten off the Hogwarts Express. This young man was well-fed, well-dressed, and tended to draw the attention of the girls when he walked by, although he didn’t realize it. Tonks was just possessive enough of him to let them know that he was with her, but not so much so as to keep him from looking at other females. What was surprising her was the fact that he didn’t seem to be looking at all.
As for a place to duel, Harry had eventually chosen the shed where Vernon had all the lawn equipment stored. She could still remember the reaction to that little announcement.
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"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, BOY? I’LL NOT HAVE YOU DOING ANYTHING UNNATURAL TO MY EQUIPMENT IN THAT SHED!" Vernon had exploded, his face in what seemed to be its natural colour.
"Could you speak up, Vernon?" Harry had asked. "I don’t think the people in Hawaii heard you."
"What was that?" Vernon asked, his voice suddenly low and dangerous.
"I asked if you could yell a little louder. I’m sure all our neighbours now think that I’ve been shagging the lawnmower while you’re at work." Tonks snorted her laughter, and all three of the Dursleys looked at her, afraid to say a thing, especially after she’d explained to them that they weren’t part of the statutes against displaying magic in front of Muggles, since they were raising a wizard. "You know, if you were really serious about keeping things a secret, you’d be a bit quieter about it. Anything the neighbours know, they know because you’ve yelled it at the top of your lungs."
"Why you …" Vernon started to say as he rose from his chair, but thought better of it as he saw two wands pointed at him. Vernon had gone smug at the sight, however. "You can’t do anything during the summers, boy, or else they’ll snap your wand."
"Really?" he said, sounding astonished. "You mean I can’t …" He picked up one of Petunia’s good plates and threw it to the floor, where it shattered quite noisily to her anguished gasp. He pointed his wand at the shards and said, quite clearly, "Reparo!" Once the plate was sitting whole on the floor, he said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and gently lifted the good china on to the table. He grinned at Vernon. "Now, let’s sit here about fifteen minutes for you to be sure that no owls will arrive to deliver the awful summons."
Vernon turned such a pasty white that Harry felt mildly nauseated at the sight. "It won’t be coming either, Vernon. I have special dispensation this summer to learn and cast magic, since I have a dark wizard chasing me who has no problems murdering Muggles. Especially magic-hating Muggles like you. Since you’re protected by my living here, and I can now do things like finish the transformation that Hagrid started on Dudley when I was eleven, you might want to consider being nicer to me. Since that’s impossible, you might want to simply ignore that I exist, and maybe get your killer whale to do the damned chores around here."
Vernon’s reply was to act like a moustachioed codfish for a time, and then rise from his chair, storm out to the auto and leave in a squeal of tires. Petunia sniffed diffidently at Harry. "Why must you be that way, Harry?" she asked in the voice of a woman who wished to give someone a dressing down, but needed to give that person just a little more rope with which to hang themselves.
"Be what way? Casting magic? A wizard? I can’t help that, Petunia. I was born that way."
"I’m your aunt, Harry. I’d appreciate you not being so familiar with my name."
"If you’re my aunt, then act like it, you stupid bint!" he bellowed at her. He sparkled slightly as he yelled, causing enough of a wind to flow at her that her hair ruffled as he yelled. "I am the last remaining tie you have to your family. Rather than deal with it, and treat me like family, you chose to treat me as your slave."
He stood and walked away from the table, glaring at Dudley, who decided that he had someplace else that he needed to be — anywhere but near Harry. Harry turned to face his slack-jawed aunt. "I wasn’t lying to Vernon. There is a dark wizard out there who killed my parents and wants me dead because he thinks I can do something against him. The blood protections I get from living here protect you as well as me. But you know something? Next year, when I turn seventeen, that’s the last year that I protect you. After July 31st of next year, you lose your protection from Voldemort." Petunia gasped at the name. "Big deal, so you know it. Would you like to know something else, Petunia? Because of the treatment that you and your husband and killer whale gave me as I grew up, I won’t give a damn when Voldemort comes to kidnap and torture and eventually kill you. He will, you know, because he has this misguided thought that since you’re family, you can be used as bargaining chips. When he discovers what I’ve known for years — that the entire lot of you are useless — then he’ll kill you, either by letting Bellatrix Lestrange Crucio you into insanity, or else he’ll just cast the Killing Curse at the three of you and be done with it."
He hung his head. "It actually pains me to realize that I’m quite likely to throw a party when I hear the three of you are dead. I simply can’t care about you — any of you — and if you were actually willing to be honest with yourself, you’d be able to know exactly whose fault that is." He looked at her again and shrugged, throwing the entire matter away, metaphorically speaking. It was obvious that the matter didn’t weigh on his thoughts at all. He turned to Tonks and said, "Would you care to see the bedroom I used for the first ten years that I lived here?" Without waiting to see if she followed him, he stood and walked into the hallway just outside the kitchen and waited.
She stood, interested in Petunia’s white face and wondering whether it was Harry’s rant or what he wanted to show her that was making her quake in her shoes. She walked into the hallway, surprised that Harry wasn’t moving now that she was here. Rather than move to take her somewhere, he bent over and opened the small door in the wall. "I’ll guard that cute butt of yours as you take a look, Tonks. Take a look at the room I lived in from fifteen months until the day I got my Hogwarts letter."
Her eyes widened as she realized that he was talking about this small cupboard. She knelt on the floor and stuck her head in, and then decided to crawl the rest of the way in. She found herself squashing herself into the triangular space under the stairs, and trying to imagine growing up in such a space. She finally worked her way back out of the area, and stood, shaking.
Harry looked at her and pulled her into a deep hug. "Don’t bother, Tonks," he said conversationally. "She’s simply not worth the red tape you’d have to go through. When I’m seventeen, I’m out of here, and that’s that. Unless she does the unthinkable and changes her attitudes toward me, I simply will forget about them after I’m gone. And they can go back to their drab magicless lives and forget that Lily Evans ever even existed. Assuming Voldemort lets them." He shrugged. "Let me get to a couple chores, and then we can get to our training." He walked into the bathroom and said "Scourgify!" followed by a repeat performance in the kitchen, causing Petunia, who had remained sitting there in outrage, to stare at the room in horrified shock. "Okay, I’m done with those chores. Let’s go." He walked out into the back garden calmly.
They headed to the shed where Tonks enlarged it back about 20 metres, and then built a wall where the old one had been. Once in the new room, she widened it to the same 20 metres and padded the walls and floor. "This should do a good job for us. Plenty of room to fly, to fall, and generally practice taking down old Snake Face."
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He’d been as good as his word. He’d shown no interest whatsoever in what the Dursleys were doing. They returned from their walk to the park and back toward their workout area, where Harry quickly stripped from his jeans and short sleeve tee and changed into a karate-style gi. "Shall we begin today's training?"
She smiled and altered her own clothes. "Interesting that you can strip like that in front of me, Harry. You'd be more shy than that, I'd figure."
"You've seen me naked, Tonks," he laughed. Following that with a snort, he added, "More than merely seen, if I remember rightly." His grin was impudent.
"I don't remember any complaints from you," she replied equally impudently.
"Did I say that I was stupid?" he laughed. "I’m just trying to treat this like I would treat changing in the Quidditch locker room."
He walked toward the middle of the room, Tonks a few steps behind him. Harry jumped suddenly to the left as Tonks fired off a spell at his back, spinning in mid-air to face the Auror, landing and firing off a spell of his own, one that she avoided, but only barely.
"Nice jump, Harry," she said. "How'd you know?"
"The sound in the room changed. Your breathing altered slightly. It always does just before you fire off a spell."
"You pay that much attention to your surroundings?" she asked, rather obvious impressed.
"Well, I'm rather attached to my skin, and I'd like to keep it in one piece and as undamaged as possible." He laughed. "Besides, it was you doing the breathing. I like listening to you."
She smiled. "Thank you. Do you pay this kind of deep attention to Hermione or Ginny?"
He stood rock-still suddenly, silent. "Whether or not it's the case, I don't think I should answer you. It's not fair to you or them, especially with them not being here to be part of the conversation."
She smirked. "If you're not paying that kind of attention to them, then as far as they're concerned, how can it be unfair to me?"
"Because you seem sure that there's someone else that I'm interested in. If it's not them, then you'll search around for more names. Cho Chang. Hannah Abbot. Susan Bones. Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy Parkinson." He shuddered as he mentioned the last two names. "In the meantime, you'll be fighting with the idea that I shouldn't be with you." He deflated slightly. "I want to explore us, Tonks. Whether or not I have any feelings for Hermione, Ginny or even Ron, for God's sake, you were here first and stated your interest. We explore us. I consider other women only in the unfortunate circumstance that you and I don't work out together."
"Harry, you're sixteen. Given how drop dead gorgeous you are, shouldn't you be out there trying to talk every girl in existence out of their knickers, rather than settling for one woman? You've got your whole life ahead of you!"
"Yeah. And my life may end before my sixth year starts. I think I'd rather spend that time learning about a woman who is teaching me that love is a wonderful thing that I just might be worthy of and that I strongly suspect I feel for her, rather than worrying about whether or not Ginny is a B-cup or an A-cup, or whether Hermione has the decidedly kinky streak that someone that repressed has to have."
"A-cup," Tonks answered automatically. "She looks like me when I was her age. I have the feeling that before the year is out, though, she's going to be a C or a D-cup, if she takes after Molly." She paused. "Do you … do you really feel that way? That even if you do want to shag the three of us until we're all unconscious, you'll forgo the chance to start a love affair with either girl because you're with me? Even if I give you permission?"
"Yes. You'd give me the permission hoping, in a way, that I'd find someone else, proving that you're right about yourself. Remember, I understand feelings of worthlessness, so I have an idea of how you think."
She shook her head. "You are not the Harry Potter I know. Who are you, and what have you done with the old one?" She grinned to take any possible sting out of the comment.
He grinned as well. "Just getting lazy. Figured I’d get it all out in the open, rather than take up all this time dancing around the situation before we get to the heart of the matter."
She laughed. "Laziness works as a reason. Now, shall we get down to duelling proper?" She stepped away from him and stood prepared for a duel.
"Sure. I have a question for you, though. How likely is it that Voldemort and his Death Munchers are going to stand by and duel fairly? Isn’t it more likely that they’ll just come in fast and hard and do what they need to do?"
"You’re absolutely right, Harry, but duelling in this manner allows me to find out what your skills are like. Once I’m sure you’ve got a good feel for most of those, we’ll work on more sneaky methods of fighting. I want you alive at the end of this, Harry."
"Hell, I want me alive at the end of this." He grinned. "Then I can run out and shag every girl in existence!" Getting a more serious look on his face he added, "As long as they’re all you."
She blushed and then looked up quickly. She fired off an Expelliarmus, immediately following it with a Protego even as the Expelliarmus flew at Harry. He laughed and threw up his own Protego, following it with a familiar red beam that took down her shield. She was impressed that he had immediately fired another spell that the red glow of his Stupefy had masked when the Jelly Legs hex struck her, and she woobled around for a moment. Rather than take immediate advantage of the situation, he took the time to prepare himself, and suddenly fired off, as one word, Rictusempra-PetrificusTotalis-Incarcerus!" She smiled to herself as she realized, firing off multiple Protego spells, that she simply was not going to be able to block them all, and found herself a moment later thrown back and bound with silk ropes. She was also chuckling at the almost epileptic moves that Harry had done in order to do his spell-work. "And I never even had to use any of the spells you taught me that you shouldn’t have, Tonks."
She verified that the ropes were in fact silk and decided to twit him lightly about it. "Oh, into bondage are we, Mister Potter?" she purred at him, and was rewarded with a slightly noticeable change to the way his clothes were fitting.
He gulped slightly before saying, "Okay, I guess I deserved that. Gods, Tonks — do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he asked thickly before casting "Finite Incantatem!"
She stood and walked over to him. "I get the idea every time I look at you looking at me and see the complete shock in your gaze that I might find you attractive, let alone be in love with you." She grinned again. "What made you say it while I was bound in ropes, though? And don’t think I didn’t notice that yours were silk, and not the usual rough hemp ones every other person seems to use."
He blushed furiously. "I may be insisting that we wait until at least my sixteenth birthday, but it doesn’t mean that … well, I dream about you and … certain things." His blush actually deepened considerably, and his trousers became even tighter fitting. "And before you ask, yes, some of them involve you and silk ropes and that bed you created your first day here."
She felt her own shirt fitting more interestingly. How in hell did he know that was one of my fantasies?!? Or am I just luckier than any one girl deserves to be? "It won’t be for our first time, Harry, but I promise to give you that fantasy — give it a chance to come true. I can depend on you not to abuse the inherent trust involved with something like that." She watched his eyes narrow, and the room became noticeably colder. "What? What did I say wrong?"
"Who was it?" he asked darkly. "Who abused you like that?"
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. "Stressed a word I didn’t want to." She stood straighter. "A fellow Auror. Wouldn’t stop when I asked him to. He’s been dealt with by the Ministry, though."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, a Ministry punishment for doing something wrong. Where did he get promoted to for raping someone?"
Something struck deeply within her, and she looked at him for a very long moment before speaking again. "I think I’m starting to understand something, Harry. You detest the concept of rape …"
"Doesn’t everyone?" he asked. "Everyone sane, at least?"
"Yes, but it bothers you more than most people. You look at things that most people wouldn’t as rape. If you stretch certain definitions properly, you’re right, too. I raped you on my first day here, and I’m sorry for that, and will make it up to you somehow."
"Can’t rape the willing, Tonks," he answered.
"But remember — you’re the one who called it rape that day."
"Because it’s considered that under the eyes of the law! At any point, did you hear me screaming, ‘Please don’t’? If you did, the word ‘stop’ was immediately following it!" He began pacing the room, walking toward the nearest wall first. "I’m worried about you, Tonks! I don’t want you losing your job when someone at the Ministry decides that it’s good press or whatever to take pot-shots at me again. You’re a good Auror — hell, you’re even less clumsy around me here — and I don’t want you losing your job because you got too close to me, and someone used me to destroy you! And you can’t deny that it’s possible — take a look at the Ministry’s dealings since I walked back into the picture. What happens the day that Amelia Bones finds it easier to follow the Minister’s lead than to buck him and actually enforce the law? If I’m sixteen when you and I happen, then I can see them complaining, but at least I’m legal. If it happens before the end of this month, all you have to do is fall on the wrong side of the wrong person, and they’ll use me to send you to Azkaban."
She smiled sadly. "Why have you taken so much of the world on your shoulders, Harry?"
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…" he quoted at her. "It literally is on my shoulders. If I fail, the world deals with an immortal dark lord, most likely. I can’t fail. And I can’t let those close to me take too much damage for being close to me."
"Let us make our own decisions, Harry." She grinned at him. "You’ve had a lot of practice at redirecting conversations, I see, but I haven’t lost the original thread I was going to say. You hate rape, and want to deal with anyone who fits your definition. You’re also good at changing the direction of conversations when someone gets too close, unless they’re a stubborn little bitch like me."
"I’ll thank you not to insult my girlfriend," he said with a smile.
She beamed back at him. "I’m still a stubborn little bitch who happens to be the girlfriend of the sexiest teenager on the planet, who has a horrifying suspicion that she wants her beloved boyfriend to deny."
"Okay, that’s easy enough. I’ve never been raped." He grinned at her impudently.
"That was easy enough. Now, tell me again, and make me believe it by telling it to me as the complete, unvarnished truth as you say it." He opened his mouth to speak, but their eyes locked, and she could suddenly read him as clearly as if she were in his mind. I can’t say that to her. She’ll know I’m lying. I can’t lie — not to her. He closed his mouth into a thin line and hung his head.
"I’m sorry, Tonks. I can’t say it without lying to you." He sighed. "I understand how you feel, so I won’t hold it against you for finding someone else to take over for you. I will always remember this time we did have fondly."
She smiled sadly and walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. "Harry? Look up at me — look into my eyes." He lifted his head, and she could see some tears in them. She crossed her fingers, closed her eyes, and met his lips with her own, trying so very hard to push every feeling she had for him into it. She could feel his startled reaction to being kissed — he was obviously expecting a slap, or to be spit upon — and then felt him begin to tentatively return the kiss, his own emotions flooding through. This can’t be happening! She can’t still love me — not after learning about what happened to me.
"Now. The first thing you need to realize is that whatever happened, whoever did it to you, it wasn’t your fault. You need to know that you’re not responsible for someone else’s actions, that it does not change anything about what you are, and that I will not be leaving you because someone else did a bad thing to you. Are we clear on that point?" She waited until he nodded, hope beginning to appear on his face, and then drew him into another kiss.
She felt the kiss deepen, and her tongue gently touched his lips, which parted to permit her entrance, and their tongues clashed thoroughly, yet delicately. She also felt certain other reactions happening as their bodies pressed closer together, and she gently broke the kiss. "Harry? If we’re not careful, we’re going to … well, we’re down here, and anyone could walk in on us. Besides, you said you wanted to wait until your birthday."
He groaned as he separated from her. "You’re right, damn it to hell. I want you, Tonks, but I won’t have you losing your job because you got intimate with me too soon."
She kissed him briefly, yet passionately. "If they’re that way after being the ones to suggest it, then I can tell you what I’ll tell them. ‘Take this job, fold it until it is all corners, and place it where it’ll do you a world of good.’ If they act that way to me, I promise you that I’ll quit, Harry. If it’s a choice between you and my job, the job loses."
He blinked at her for a moment and stumbled backwards a step or so before actually falling to the padded floor, hard. "You’d … you’d give up your job if they made you choose between us?" She smiled and nodded at him, which caused something that rather surprised her. Tears began to leak from his eyes, although she was quite certain that he didn’t realize it. "Nobody has ever loved me that way. Nobody has ever cared enough. Nobody has ever fought hard enough to say ‘The hell with what you say — I’m doing it’."
"Get used to it, then, sexy," she said. "I agree that we should probably avoid actual intercourse, but would you be against us at least pleasuring each other? As some Muggle author had his character say once, ‘From here I see a tongue and fingers — everything else is gravy.’ What do you think?"
"I think that we’ll have a lot more privacy upstairs than down here," Harry murmured.
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Harry looked over at the beautiful naked woman next to him. This was another three-fer, as she’d called it. She’d managed to make him orgasm three times in decently rapid succession. I could get seriously addicted to those hands and that mouth. I may not survive it when she eventually wraps those other lips around me, as she phrased it at least once. Wonder how she’d explain the big grin on my face, and the fact that the top of my head would have been blown off? He chuckled, which made her look over at him.
"Something funny, love?" she asked, snuggling up against him on his bed.
"Just trying to imagine the explanations after we make love completely for the first time, since I seriously doubt that I’ll survive the experience. How will you explain the fact that you blew the top of my head off, and the big stupid smile I’ll be wearing?"
"Oh, you’ll survive me, Harry, I’ll be sure of that. After all, I’ll want you around for more." She growled deep in her throat as her hand slid to lay across his organ, which almost immediately began stiffening. "Lord love a duck," she whispered in awe. "Morgana, give me the strength and stamina to deal with a sixteen year old’s sex drive."
He laughed and hugged her close. "I do love you, Tonks. I know that now."
"Thank you, Harry. I don’t know if I can say how much it means to me to hear those words and know that they weren’t said just to get my knickers off." She returned the hug after releasing her light grip on his erection. She bit her lower lip and said, "Harry? You know how you’ve been thinking a bit about some of the things you’d like to do to me, involving silk ropes and beds and such? I have a few fantasies as well, and I was wondering … well, I had a lover once who introduced me to … well, some people think it’s disgusting, but it was rather erotic for me the times we did it. Ever contemplate taking me … well, you seem to like my arse so much …"
He softened and stiffened simultaneously — his entire body doing the stiffening while a certain portion of it performed the softening. "Not in a million years, Tonks. I’m sorry. I can’t."
"Why not?" she asked, and then hit herself in the head with the palm of her hand, hard. "Harry, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot and a jerk and …"
"I said it earlier, Tonks. I’ll not have you insulting the woman I love. It was an honest mistake to forget it. I’d prefer that nobody else knew about that."
"Who was it? When did it happen?"
"It started when I was about ten, and kept up until last summer. Dudley and his gang apparently began to sexually mature a bit early. I don’t think Petunia really knew about it, because I think she would have put a stop to it, if only to find a way to blame what her Duddikins was doing on me. Further proof of my freakishness, I guess." He shrugged. "He’d hold me down and … well, let’s be blunt. He’d fuck me with his thankfully small … thing … and then leave me alone to clean up. He was aware that he didn’t want Mummy or Daddy to find out about it, so he’d let me clean things clear of his doings. He got his gang involved in it as well. Piers Polkiss was worst, because he’s … um … kinda large. At least they used something for lubrication when they did it. Didn’t want to hurt themselves, I guess."
Her eyes were flaming — almost literally. "They still — they were doing this to you last year?"
"Yeah. Early in the summer, anyway. After a bit, I guess I kind of spooked them," he said simply. "Why?"
"Why? Why?" she asked, sitting up. "They were been abusing … they raped … you had to deal with …" She was apparently at a loss for words. "Why didn’t you say anything to anyone?"
He shrugged, but his casual posture was belied by the anger in his voice. "Why? To whom? Why would I have assumed anyone would help me? I’ve always been on my own. No one helped me when I was six and Dudley broke my arm with a fireplace poker. No one helped me out the very first time Dudley raped me, before I even knew Hogwarts existed. What reason would I have to assume that anyone would help me after the wizarding world knew I existed? Especially after that Heir of Slytherin thing, how could I imagine that anyone would believe me? It would have been even worse after the Tournament, when everyone was convinced I was going crazy anyway. And last year, the Order bozos never saw any reason to help me out. I understand that there was a watch on me last year?"
Her face fell. "Yeah. I was part of it, occasionally. I need to take some blame for it."
"Why? Would you have prevented Dudley and Polkiss and the rest from beating on me? Don’t answer that," he said as she opened her mouth, "it’s a rhetorical question which has an answer of ‘Yes.’" He sat up himself and kissed her. "So, since you would have, it was someone who didn’t care, or wasn’t there when he was supposed to be. Is it safe to assume that Mundungus Fletcher was one of my rather common guards last year? Or Snape, for that matter? Dung would be off stealing something, and Snape would conjure up some popcorn and sit back for the show."
"I’ll find out," she said darkly. "I’m also going to deal with that cousin of yours. As far as when, do you remember dates and times? Probably not, given the fact that it’s been a year …" Harry heard her stop as he stood and walked over to the roll-top desk. "Damn fine arse," he heard her mumble, and turned to face her with a grin, and winked at her. He sat down and wrote out a series of dates and approximate times.
When he walked back over to her, he said, "Unfortunately, that sort of thing is permanently seared into my brain. I’ll not soon forget any of the gang’s ministrations. Here’s a list. Going to check it against the schedules of my so-called guards?" She nodded.
"Tell you what, Harry," she said, getting up from the bed. "As much as you hate anyone else knowing, I think we should … I think Dumbledore needs to know about this, and we can get clearance to do some … rearranging of Dudley that the Order won’t bitch about. Sound good to you?"
"Well, Dumbledore said he was going to try to patch things up by being more open, so maybe this can be the first way he can prove it. I’d like Dudley and the gang unable to do this to anyone else. Let’s get dressed and visit him." He walked over to his armoire and pulled out black denim trousers, black silk boxers and a tight black T-shirt.
"Holy shit Harry, I’m getting horny just thinking what you’re going to look like in that outfit," Tonks breathed. "Should I wear a bra or not?"
"Depends," Harry said with a laugh. "Do you want a normal meeting with Dumbledore, or one where I throw you onto his desk and remind you just what a good teacher you are?" He licked his lips, wiggling his tongue at her for a moment.
"Bra," she murmured. "Definitely a bra. As much as I want that, it is Albus’s office. Must remind myself of that…" She continued to murmur as she stood and dressed as well, in a nearly matching outfit. Finally, they were ready, and headed for Grimmauld Place, from where they would contact Albus Dumbledore.