Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

a/n: Just like to thank all the reviewers!



Chapter 3: Married Life At The Dursely’s



Harry lay flat on his back on his bed in his old room at Number 4, Privet Drive, staring up at the ceiling and remaining almost completely still; the only real movement he made was with his left thumb which he was casually rubbing against the ring that now adorned on his left ring finger. If a week ago someone had told him that he’d be married and have consummated said marriage by now, he’d have firstly not believed them but had he paid it any heed, he’d have probably imagined it as being a lot more pleasant than this.



He shouldn’t really even be in this room, he thought sourly, he and Tonks were now supposed to be living in the guest room, next door to his old room. It was larger than his room, but only had one bed. Granted it was a double bed, but even that seemed to be far too small for him and Tonks to feel comfortable in, together. So he was back in his old room. Surprisingly enough, Harry thought; very little had changed for him in the last week, after all he was still alone in a house where everyone hated him. It was just now that included a fully grown witch.



One of the few plus sides was that Tonks had gone back to work, as an Auror she didn’t work a regular 9 till 5 day but instead many small shifts at seemingly irregular intervals. In deference to her recent injuries, Tonks was only on light duties but clearly preferred to be working as much as she could. Harry got the impression, even without being told that Dumbledore had once again stepped in and hinted to the Head Auror that she should be kept on the lighter duties. After all, the less Tonks was at work, the more she was here, freeing up other Order members from the important business of spying on Harry for his own protection.



Since she was back at work, Tonks had had to finally laid off the alcohol, in fact, Harry didn’t think there was any firewhiskey, mead, or even mere butterbeer in the house at all and of course, the Dursley’s had expressly and loudly forbidden her from touching any of their boozes; their sherry, their port or their various (cheap) wines. While this didn’t make Tonks any more pleasant to be around, it gave Harry high hopes that she wouldn’t loose her temper and just curse the lot of them.



Although even when Tonks was not intoxicated that seemed to be a close run thing anyway. After all these years, Harry’s tactics for dealing with the Dursley’s were simple; stay out of the way, ignore them and they’d ignore him. It still wasn’t exactly fun, but the promise of retribution from Sirius and later The Order had kept the Dursley’s from expressing their dislike through actual abuse; just general neglect, snide remarks and strict instructions that he was not to touch anything. He’d come to accept it. It was a lot better than what had gone when he was younger. Tonks on the other hand seemed wholly unwilling to just let things slide, actively taking steps to assert her independence and her magic in front of them.



One way she did this was by apparating back from work, right into the living room, loudly. Harry could tell this was on purpose, even with what little he knew of apparition, he knew that appearing with a loud crack was a sign of a badly done appearance, in fact, Harry knew that Tonks was fully capable of apparating with no more that a faintest of pops. Of course, it had been funny to see all the Dursleys jump about a foot in the air but it wasn’t really worth the temper tantrum, Uncle Vernon had thrown.



“What have I told you!” He had roared, “About doing… doing THAT in my living room!?”



“Sorry, Vernon,” Tonks had said with a very false air of contrition, “I’ll apparate on the front lawn and come in the door from now on, shall I?”



“You will not!” Howled Vernon, on the verge of an apoplexy now, “I won’t have you flaunting your unnaturalness in front of the neighbours! It’s bad enough that I have to put a roof of your head and work to feed you and your wastrel husband!”



“You don’t!” growled Tonks, “I’ve been buying food for me and Harry and paying your ridiculous idea of a fair rent for one small room.”



“It’s not like you have any shortage of money,” Vernon had smiled a horribly knowing smile, “Not with that large inheritance that you married him for. Not that I suppose anyone would marry him for any other reason.”



It was clear that these words had struck home by the way Tonks’ face had gone completely impassive. Silently, she shrugged her shoulders and walked out and back to her room.



“You know, you don’t actually have to antagonise them like that,” Harry had muttered, following her into the guest room.



“Look, you can let them trample all over you if you like, Harry,” Tonks said, brushing her hair, which had been a mousey brown colour for the last few days, away from her face, “me, I don’t let people push me around because the going might get tough.”



“No,” snarled Harry, “But you sure hit the bottle hard enough, when it does, don’t you?”



The next thing Harry knew he was in the hall with the room door slammed in his face. Temper still burning, he stormed back to his own room and flung himself down on the bed.



~O~



“So, what have you got there Potter?” Came Tonks’ voice, the next morning, attempting to make her voice sound friendly and non-threatening.



They were sitting around the Dursley’s kitchen table, and Harry was holding an official looking letter in shaking hands, looking slightly nauseous.



“Exam results.” The teenager said shortly, making no attempt to prolong the conversation.



“Ahhh,” said Tonks with sudden understanding, “OWLs is it? How did you get on, then?”



Wordlessly, Harry shoved the letter over to her. Tonks scanned the list, Harry had achieved a pass mark in seven out of his nine Ordinary Wizarding Levels, with one A, one O and then five Es, Tonks’ didn’t think that was shabby at all and said as much to him.



“Though for some reason,” she continued, “you don’t look all that happy. Something up?”



“Not really,” Harry muttered, “I guess I was just being silly anyway.”



Tonks gave him a searching look, remembering wistfully the first time they’d met; it had been in this very room over a year ago. She’d been part of the Advance Guard that had taken him to The Order’s headquarters, she remembered the way they’d chatted easily as they’d gone up to his room to pack his stuff before leaving, the banter and playfulness coming easily to them. A year later, they were married and their discourse alternated between spiteful jabs and sullen monosyllabic phrases.



“I doubt that, Harry, come on spill,” Tonks coaxed.



“Well I had this idea I’d become an Auror after Hogwarts…” Something of Tonks’ surprise must have shown on her face because Harry immediately started glowering at her, his dark eyebrows coming together at an impressive angle, “see?” he accused moodily, “you do think it’s silly.”



“No!” Tonks insisted, with complete honesty that obviously didn’t placate Harry in the slightest, “I’m just surprised alright? None of The Order ever mentioned that to me. I had you pegged for professional quidditch, the way you fly.”



“So is that what get The Order gets up to after missions, is it?” Harry said heatedly, fixating on the one phrase Tonks had hoped he would miss, “Gossiping about me?”



“No! Not just you!” Tonks said, flustered, then absorbed herself in his OWL letter again, “Anyway, I don’t know what you’ve been told Harry, but as an actual Auror I’d say you were well on your way to be joining The Force. Good grades in all the right things.”



“I can’t continue Potions without an ‘O’ grade OWL that I don’t have.” Harry said sullenly, “Snape’s very picky about his NEWT students. At least I won’t be studying with that greaseball anymore.”



“Ah,” said Tonks, her heart sinking, “Apparently his standards have gone up since my day. Look if you still want to be an Auror, you’ve still got options. First, the subjects and grade requirements they told you about at careers would have been for going straight into Auror training from Hogwarts, you could join the standard Magical Law Enforcement patrol, do a few years with them and then apply for a transfer. It’d be a bit of a slog but you could get there in the end or you can apply straight after Hogwarts if you had \'Outstanding\' NEWTs in all the other requirements and try and talk the interview board into just overlooking the lack of potions. They do have discretion for that sort of thing. Hell, they’d probably jump all over you, what with what the Prophet’s current opinion of you.”



That was apparently the wrong thing to say.



“Yeah,” Harry growled, “Because I really want to get in because of what The Prophet says.”



Before Tonks could properly think up a way to placate the moody teenager, Harry had shoved back his chair, seized his letter from her unresisting hands and stormed out of the room. Tonks cursed under her breathe, not only had she not managed to make up with her Husband, she didn’t think he’d noticed that she was even trying. Instead he’d just heard the worst of everything she’d said and took offence. Moody Git



~O~



“Anyway, I think she hates me.” Harry said that evening to Hermione.



Hermione in a stroke of brilliance that as exceptional even for her, had, upon hearing that Harry was staying the whole summer at Privet Drive, purchased a brand new mobile telephone and mailed it to him via Royal Mail, all very proper and neat to avoid the Dursley’s ire. She was ringing it every couple of days on her parent’s landline just so Harry could hear a friendly voice.



“I’m quite sure Tonks doesn’t really hate you Harry,” Hermione said, patiently.



“Hmm.” Harry grunted, non-committally.



“Look, both of you are under a lot of stress, you’ve probably just be overreacting to each other. I mean why do you think she hates you?”



“Do you want the list, Hermione because I actually have a list,” Harry said, ticking things off on his fingers, “She’s been forced to marry me, she has to live with my family, I kinda yelled at her for her method of coping with that and then also yelled at her when she was just trying to encourage me about my OWL results and giving me advice about Aurors. Oh… and I’m terrible in bed.”



There was some spluttering down the line. Harry realised what he had just said to his best friend, who was a girl, and suddenly felt very awkward indeed.



“Maybe we can just forget I said that last bit?” he said.



“Harry,” Hermione said in a slightly shocked voice, “You and Tonks have slept together? I mean, Slept slept?”



“Err.. yeah,” Harry said, with a feeling that Hermione was feeling as embarrassed as him about the whole deal, “Apparently, it was required to make the magical marriage oaths binding and I seriously don’t think Tonks was lying about that. I kinda assumed you knew.”



“Marriage customs aren’t exactly on the reading list, Harry,” Hermione said, still torn between shock and amusement.



“That’s never stopped you before,” Harry teased.



“Very funny,” Hermione said, “Look, have you talked to Tonks?”



“Not since the last time I bit her head off,” Harry said.



“I know its tough, Harry” Hermione said in the tone she used when explaining things she thought would be obvious to everyone except boys, “but it’s the only way, you’re going to deal with this. Make the first move and I’m sure she’ll respond.”



~O~



Talk to Tonks, Harry repeated to himself, Got to talk to Tonks. Just knock on door. Go in and talk to her. Simple



Instead Harry just paced the landing. With a horrible sense of déjà vu; it was the Yule Ball over again. Was he that rubbish with girls, that he couldn’t just go in and talk to Tonks? How ridiculous was that? Unlike Cho, she was hardly going to be surrounded by tons of giggly girls that would laugh at him. Suddenly it came to Harry just how alone Tonks was, staying near constantly in the house with him. He was the only person in the house she knew, and could ever really talk to, and he wasn’t talking to her.



He knocked on the door very softly a couple of times.



“Come in Harry,” said Tonks, equally softly.



Harry’s heart was hammering in chest as though he was walking on to the quidditch pitch for the first time, or about to face the Hungarian horntail. He let himself in, jerkily, trying to control himself. Tonks was lying on the far side of the doublebed, already under the quilt, dressed in an oversized t-shirt.



“H-how did you know it was me?” He said, trying for a note of humour, hovering in the open door frame.



“You’re the only person who’d knock if they wanted to see me Harry,” Tonks said monotonously.



“Err… Right.” Hary said, weakly. Silence reigned for a several moments. Stretching uncomfortably as they both seemed to be at a loss for words.



“In or out, Harry,” Tonk said, finally, “Either way, close the door.”



Harry shut the door behind him.



“So,” Harry said after another lengthy pause, “I was think maybe I could sleep here tonight, if you don’t mind.”



Dear Merlin, why did you just say that? Harry’s mind screamed at him.



“Sure thing,” Tonks, “We’re married after all, it’s not like I can object.”



“I can go back to the other room if you’d prefer,” Harry offered with a jerk of his thumb.



“No, no, get over here.” Tonks insisted, though still in an impassive tone of voice.



Harry gingerly slipped between the covers and stretched out underneath it, his head sinking deeply into an overly soft pillow.



“G’Night, Harry.” Tonks said, coolly. Closing her eyes and switching all the lights off with a sweep of a wand, which she then placed on the bedside table.



“I was thinking maybe we could talk, Tonks,” Harry said timidly.



“Maybe, another time Harry?” Tonks said, quietly, “I’ve got long shift tomorrow. Need my sleep.”



They lapsed back into silence. Harry stared at the darkened ceiling. [i]Make the first move[/i], Hermione had said. Well he had, it was hardly his fault, Tonks didn’t want to talk. Or was it? Asked another part of his brain. The last time Tonks had tried to talk to Harry friendlily, he’d snapped back at her for her troubles. Why should she open up to him now? Make the first move, Harry thought, tell her how you really feel.



“Tonks,” he said again slowly, “I’m sorry.”



“Sorry for what?” She replied, grumpily, “if its sorry for keeping me up, you could have just not said anything,”



“No,” Harry replied, and then took the plunge, “I’m sorry that you’re here. Stuck here with me and my relatives. I’m sorry, I haven’t helped you deal with them more. I’m sorry, I was hostile when you were trying to help me and that I’m sorry I didn’t call it all off when you asked me to. I don’t blame you for hating me now. I took the easy way out. I shouldn’t have forced you to share my life. No-one should have to share my life.”



There was a long silence as Harry ran out of words. Tonks was just staring at him, wide eyed. Obviously horrified at his wild outburst. Harry flushed and shrugged.



“And I’m sorry for heaping this on you right now when we should be sleeping.” He muttered, slumping down on the bed; he curled on to his side, facing away from Tonks.





Tonks stared in disbelief as the words tumbled out of Harry. Terrible words; coloured with his guilt and shame and remorse and not a small amount of self-loathing. Before she had fully processed what he was saying. He flipped over on to his side and faced away from her, rejecting her completely. Even as recognised the emotions Harry was projecting, she recognised them as mirrors of those she carried in her own heart. Like the motion of guilt that she felt soaring inside her right now; she hadn’t handled this well, she knew that and she realised she’d been venting at Harry, not because he was to blame in anyway but simply because he was here; an easily available target but Harry had taken all that to heart and really believed everything she’d said. Taken every muttering and every dark glance to heart and she’d practically crushed him.



She was a monster. It was the only way to describe that.



Gently and ever so slowly, she reached out to him, moving across the bed until she was behind him. She slowly reached out with her arms, encircling her husband. He tensed horribly, almost flinching away from here in a way that smote Tonks’ heart but she persisted: pulling Harry and herself together on the bed, so her front pressed into her back as they embraced, spooned tightly together the curves of their bodies meshing near perfectly.



“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered very softly into his ear, almost nuzzling his soft sable hair now, “I’ve been dumping it all on you, none of this your fault.”



“Of course it is,” Harry said, bitterly, his entire body still tense, “I blundered my way into the ministry. I needed to be rescued. I was the reason Sirius was there to be killed, the only reason we needed to secure his will with this… marriage.”



“Consider this,” Tonks said, “I was fighting Bellatrix before Sirius; she beat me. If I was half the Auror I was supposed to be, she’d never have killed Sirius. I have as much claim to be the cause of his death as you. That is to say, not at all. Not that that helps, right? Survivor’s guilt is never easy, Harry but that doesn’t mean we can’t deal with it.”



Harry breathed out deeply as some of the tension drained from his body but only some.



“There’s something I should ask you,” he said, “Did Dumbledore ever tell you why Voldemort, (Tonks tried to suppress a shudder as he named The Name) wanted me to go into the department of Mysteries?”



“Does he tell anyone anything?” Tonks asked, by way of reply.



“It was a prophecy. About me and.. him.” Harry trembled slightly, “In the end, it’s going to come down to that, It’s me or him.”



“You mean; It’s us or him,” said Tonks, without a trace of hesitation, “For whatever reasons, I made a vow to you, Harry. And I’m a Hufflepuff; we value honesty, fair play and we never ever break a promise. So whatever comes for you, I’m going to be right there beside you.”



Harry was silent for the longest time and then the only words he could muster were.



“Thank you.”



Tonks held him tight as he finally relaxed into her arms, their curves perfectly intermeshed. His hands resting on hers and they wrapped about him as if to reassure himself they were there. Feeling, for the first time, a connection between her young husband and herself, Tonks drifted off to sleep.



[a/n: Well, I’m not sure I managed to capture the sheer hell, life with the Dursleys would be… But still, I’m quite proud of the last section. Though perhaps some of it is a bit out of nowhere. let me know what you think! All reviews welcome.





Next chapter: Reconciliation. (Well, it seems they did that already this chapter. Guess I shall have to write some actual smut to fill up the space.)