Harry Potter Short Stories

Restless leg syndrome

The first thing Harry became aware of was the smell of cooking and the noise of other people milling around in the kitchen. The Burrow was always full of life, thanks in part to half a dozen Weasley's milling about at any given time. But it sounded like an entire herd of elephants was stampeding through the ramshackle house, and by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was immediately swept up by a flustered Molly.

"Oh, dear, can you give the lads a hand out in the garden?" she asked, but between her reddened cheeks and her look of urgency, it was the furthest thing from a request. She was away and back into the kitchen before he had any time to answer her. He shook his head, privately grateful that it was all she was asking. Time and again, lately, Molly Weasley had been trying to get Harry to open up about his failed relationship with Ginny. Not so much the why's, as the 'she misses you, why don't you swing by more often?' and other little pushes.

One day he knew he'd reach his limit and tell her, in no uncertain terms, that he and Ginny would never be an item again. And he could imagine how well that little conversation would go down when it happened. Until then, he was happy to avoid it as much as possible, striding out into the Burrow's garden to keep busy with the other guests and avoid Ron and Ginny's mother for a while. If he was lucky, maybe he could sort out some seating arrangement before Molly sat him and her daughter together.

"Where does somebody need me?" he asked, clapping his hands together as Bill and Ron levitated banners and candles about with their wands. But the immediate answer came as a laugh nearby, coming from a witch who looked like she'd come straight from a Weird Sisters concert in ripped jeans, boots and vest.

"You must be real popular at parties," Nymphadora Tonks grinned, hopping up beside Harry and scooping him into an overzealous one-armed hug. "How you going, mate?"

"Fine," he grinned. There was just a natural charm about Tonks that put him in a good mood. Nothing seemed too big when she was able to brush it off. And that's when it hit him: she was perfect. "Actually… you think you could do me a favour?" he asked quietly, steering her away from the Weasley boys. She arched a silver eyebrow, looking at him with bemusement.

"I'm flattered but… you sure the age difference thing doesn't matter to you?" She smirked as her hair became curly and blonde and she played with her fringe. "I mean, I guess I could do something just for you…"

"Shush – you're perfect," he urged, and she winked.

"Flatterer. Alright – what can I do for you?"

Harry wasted no time in begging her to sit opposite him, just to really make sure there was no conspiracy going on to try and set him up with his ex. Even as he laid it out, he half expected her to snort or roll her eyes. Even Nymphadora Tonks had her limits when it came to crazy. But, blessedly, she just hummed and nodded.

"Not gonna lie – I was going to bet money that she'd do it, you know. But lucky for you, I'm a good friend, and I haven't found anyone to take me up on it. So you've got yourself a partner." Harry was so grateful that he actually pressed a kiss against the side of her head, immediately turning her hair a vivid shade of red as she leaned back and smirked again.

"Merlin – what kind of thanks does a girl get for going the extra mile?" she teased.

"Yeah, well…" Harry rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling just a little awkward. She was a few years older than him after all, to say nothing of her own failed relationship with Remus. "I'm just thankful, alright?"

"Don't get your knickers in a knot," she giggled, elbowing him in the ribs. "It's fine. You really need to take the edge off a bit, and it's about time you and I spent some quality time together."