Thankfully the next day was Sunday, and his roommates had been gracious enough to let him sleep in. From how shit Harry felt, he wasn't quite sure if he would have been capable of moving had he, on top of everything else, also not gotten enough sleep. His joints ached, his muscles ached, and his hands ached. He felt like he'd run a marathon while carrying heavy dumbbells in both arms.

"Fuck," he hissed as he laboured to sit up on the bed. Just that had already exhausted him. It took him another ten minutes to get dressed, pocket the hat, which had been oddly unresponsive since yesterday, and leave the room.

The stairs proved to be another challenge, and thankfully there was no one present to see him creep and crawl his way down into the common room. Once there he took a break on one of the yellow and black sofas, enjoying the softness of the material and the roughness of the fibres underneath his fingers. He didn't know how long he sat there, just considering the events of the last night. Some people came and went, but it wasn't anybody he knew or wanted to talk to.

Eventually, Tonks came down, glanced at him, and without any words sat down next to him. Not at the other end of the sofa, but right next to him, so that their knees touched. She was wearing a pair of washed-out jeans with some boots and a T-shirt. She looked comfortable. Harry wore his robes, like always. He liked robes. He let his head loll back on the backrest once he'd gotten too tired to hold it up.

"It's surreal," Tonks eventually muttered, magenta eyes flickering over the faces of the people entering and leaving the common room. "It's like nothing happened yesterday."

"Nothing did," Harry replied.

"For them, maybe," Tonks said in a low voice and gave Harry a meaningful look. She extended a hand to squeeze his. A friendly gesture, just that after, she didn't take it away. They sat there for perhaps another half an hour, before Harry sighed, knowing what he had to do.

"I'm super cramped and achy from yesterday. I'm going to go get some wiggenweld I have stored in an abandoned classroom," he said.

"Can I have some as well? I'm bruised to all hell. I think your puppeteering damaged my joints somewhat."

"Yeah, sure. Let's ditch this place," Harry said and laboriously stood up, getting a wide-eyed look from his friend.

"Bloody hell, you're really not doing well," she hastily said as she stood up to support him, arm under his shoulder. He leaned onto her and noted that she'd found the time to shower. She smelled good. He closed his eyes with a sigh and let himself get led out of the common room and into the corridor. He wanted a shower as well.

They took some hidden passages to get to Harry's and Penny's potion room. Some that Harry knew, and some that Tonks did. They knew approximately the same amount. They continued not meeting anyone on the way.

"The castle is completely empty, somehow," Harry muttered once they entered the room. Tonks curiously looked around.

"Exams are soon. I can definitely tell you that most students are desperately cramming," she said. "Those that aren't, well it's a nice day. They're spending it outside."

Harry went over to a little trunk filled with vials and took out two green ones, he immediately drank one, before handing the other to Tonks, who looked at it curiously before drinking as well. The effect wasn't immediate, but it was magical, and Harry could feel the ingredients working their way through his body.

"What is this place?" Tonks asked curiously, looking at a bubbling cauldron that Penny had left here probably for some sort of rest period.

"Me and Penny practice Potions here," Harry said as he made his way to the exit, Tonks quickly came over to support him again after she noticed that he still wasn't doing perfectly fine.

The girl looked at all the ingredients strewn about, the cauldron's, books. "You're not afraid of someone finding it?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "We put it here because it's the emptiest wing on this floor. Also, the door has some spells on it."

Not many spells, of course. The room was being used by two second-years after all. But a magical locking charm and notice-me-not ward.

Harry was particularly proud of that second one, he'd only recently managed. It didn't feel particularly strong to his senses, the ward, but anything was better than nothing.

"What now?" Tonks asked once they'd exited the room, Harry reapplying the spells on the door.

"I don't know about you, but I think I deserve a spa day," the boy muttered, already thinking about how he could abuse the room of requirement into giving him enough hot water to drown a village.

"Damn," Tonks muttered. "I always hated it when my mom took me, but now I really feel like one too. Where to find one in Hogwarts though? I know prefects get access to some sort of special bath, but I don't know the passcode anymore, they changed it recently."

"I have a place," Harry muttered. Now that the diadem was gone. He'd checked and used the room since. Several months of waiting in between, if Dumbledore hadn't managed to remove the thing by now Harry could honestly just kill himself now, save Voldemort the trouble if this was the competency level of the dark lord's adversaries. "But it's a secret."

Tonks mimicked zipping her mouth shut and rolling her eyes. "I think we have bigger issues than just some secret room," she said. They slowly and laboriously started making their way up to the seventh floor. They didn't meet anyone as they passed through the wings of the castle that held obviously empty classrooms and not dormitories. The only beings that saw them were some ghosts, who asked if Harry was ok, but who were easy to reassure, and some paintings, which just went about their usual vapid and repetitive existence.

"Have to respect the attempt," Tonks mused as they arrived at the entrance to the room, which faced a mural of a man attempting to teach trolls how to dance.

"Yeah, well," Harry muttered as he stumbled back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall, drawing curious looks from Tonks. "I'm sure he had his reasons."

"Being an insane moron is a reason too," Tonks mused. She was startled when a door suddenly appeared where the blank stretch of wall was. "Bollocks," she muttered. "Scared me."

She stood there and breathed in and out deeply while Harry opened the door and looked at her curiously.

"Are you coming?" he asked as he held it open and went inside. She quickly followed and gasped when she beheld the scene that Harry's imagination had summoned up. A large Middle Eastern space with blue and gold tiles illuminated by torches on every pillar. The ceiling was dominated by a beautiful fresco of naked nymphs chasing each other and laughing in a tranquil lake and right underneath it was a large square pool full of hot water. Steam so thick you almost couldn't see through it.

There were platters of food and drink floating on the water's surface, on wooden boards cut to look like lotus leaves. A gramophone was playing Vivaldi from one of the corners, the others all being filled up with lounges on which one could lay and stack luxuriously plush cushions into whatever seating arrangement one desired.

Basically, it looked like a Sultan's washing room, where he went to relax and spend time with his harem.

"Merlin's beard," Tonks muttered as she looked around with a wide open mouth.

"Stop being such a country bumpkin," Harry teased as he quickly undressed himself, transfiguring his underwear into a pair of swimming trunks.

"Harry!" Tonks exclaimed, scandalised, at him having changed in front of her, despite the fact that he really hadn't.

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Harry entered the pool through the side with the steps, breathed in the steam, and let his head rest on the pool's edge from where he was sitting.

The warm water infused every part of his being and he felt his body relax into a content puddle of nerves and muscles.

He groaned. "Oh god, this is it." He tilted his head to see Tonks still standing outside. "Come on, it's heavenly," he urged.

"Sure, just give me a second. Don't look!" she exclaimed, at which Harry turned his head away from her. It wasn't like he could see anything through the steam. He felt with his magical senses as she did something, probably the same transfiguration he'd used, before joining him.

"Oh my magic, where was this all my life," she moaned after a while of them just enjoying the water and the music. "What is this room? Some sort of heaven?"

Harry debated explaining the specific function to her but decided to do so later when a floating lotus made its way over to him. There was an assortment of cheeses, fruits and meats on it, along with a bottle of wine.

"Amarone," he muttered, before nodding. "Good taste," he complimented the room as he poured himself a glass of the perfectly temperate wine. He didn't drink a lot, knowing that it wasn't the most amazing thing to do when so young. But sometimes you just had to. Also, the higher the quality of the alcohol, the less bad the damage.

"Is that wine?" Tonks asked, alarmed when she saw him take a big sip from the glass.

Harry could only roll his eyes. "It's not wine, Tonks. It's a classical Amarone, it's basically the liquor of the gods." He took another sip before trying some of the ham. He threw his head back and almost died and went to heaven. "God's, it's Pata Negra, where are we getting this stuff?" he asked. Was he an idiot all along? Using this room only for practising duelling and magic sensing. All this time he could have been asking for this sort of food.

But couldn't the room only provide stuff that was in the castle, which meant that there was some of this ham in the kitchen? "Those bastards," he concluded. "That's why their podium is raised. To hide that they're eating different food than us."

"I don't know how I feel about the fact that you're drinking," Tonks said.

"What the hell, girl. You're a teenager, where's your spirit of rebellion. You should be drinking too!" Harry exclaimed and flexed some telekinesis to send a lotus flower to Tonks. This one didn't have wine, but another liquor that he recognized. "It's crema di limoncello with some dates and figs, should suit your palate more," he mumbled in between bites of ham and gulps of wine.

Tonks hesitantly poured herself a little glass of the cream and sniffed it, before quickly dipping her tongue into it. "Wow," the girl said, blinking at him, as if surprised. "This is good," she said before pouring herself more and promptly gulping it down.

Harry meanwhile, was starting to develop the nice and heady feeling that he generally associated with getting drunk on wine specifically. Having reached his goal he mostly ate, only occasionally sipping to enhance the flavour and to keep his level of drunkenness. "I always say," he mumbled to himself. "The Italians make the best wine, and the French the best cheese." He giggled like a moron, drawing a confused inquiry from Tonks.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked with a slightly slurred speech.

"Just how to offend the maximum number of people possible in one sentence," Harry replied back.

She seemed to think of an answer for a second, before letting out her own stupid laugh. "With your potion skills, you do that just by existing."

"Oi," Harry mumbled. "Meanie."

A pause entered the audial space between the two. Interspersed only with occasional groans complimenting the temperature of the water and the beautiful music playing in the background.

"I'm sorry," Tonks eventually said.

"Hmmm?"

"For dragging you into that, yesterday."

"Well, all's well that ends well. Maybe I'd be a bit mad if I'd been bitten, but considering there were no negative consequences I'm glad I was there. I don't think you'd have survived alone," Harry said.

"There were consequences though," Tonks mumbled and turned to look at him with penetrating eyes. Glowing so red he could see them through the steam. Kinda creepy. "You had to kill someone."

Harry scoffed. "People like to argue after which point someone has lost the moral agency that grants them their right to not be killed. I think everyone in the world would agree that Greyback had long since left that point behind. Embracing the wolf, turning children, participating in mass slaughter with Voldemort."

Tonks sucked in her breath at the mention of the name.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry, You-Know-Who."

"How… Did it feel?" she eventually asked.

Harry thought back to seeing himself bisect the werewolf. He'd mostly felt relief that the threat had been eliminated. Maybe some disassociated disgust at the blood and guts flying everywhere. Perhaps he'd feel guilt if it had been more than just his body wielding the sword.

But all in all, it had oddly felt like, "a job well done," he ended up saying. "You? You also helped, you know?"

"I felt relieved. Charlie he…" she trailed off. "His killer is dead, you said revenge doesn't lead anywhere but it felt… Good. Like a weight was lifted off my chest. I couldn't breathe for months, up until that point. But I didn't even know"

Harry took in her words and realised that Tonks stood at a precipice. She'd participated in a battle to the death and he was the only one she could talk to about it. "I think that makes sense. Society today kind of frowns on it, but it makes perfect sense when you think about how humans lived by the proverb "tooth for a tooth, eye for an eye." I don't think that revenge necessarily comes from a completely selfish place. You also want to avenge the dead by killing the killers, because as long as they live, your life and the life of your loved ones are still in danger. It's a self-preservation instinct to hate those that did us wrong. After all, if you don't defend yourself, what's to say they won't do it again?"

"Maybe you're right. But, what's the point in being an Auror then," Tonks wondered aloud. Her voice sounded exhausted, but also, for the first time in a while, genuinely calm. She sounded like she was at peace with herself.

Harry had always wondered why the media of today depicted everyone having such an adverse reaction to their first kill after the adrenaline had died down. Sure, it was an unshackling of the moral norms of the modern world, but killing was something that had been a part of human history since the beginning. Killing someone in a completely justified manner should have even less of an effect.

"The reason why modern morality frowns on vigilantism is because the law enforcement system in place is better than it ever has been. People don't have to seek their own justice anymore. They don't have to live in constant fear. Being an Auror helps create this society, in which people don't immediately think of escalating a conflict. It's noble, in a way. Also, if you became an Auror I'd feel better about it. I think people going into positions of power like this generally have the wrong motivations. Did you know that in some muggle countries, it's the dregs of society that become policemen? How sad is that? James Potter at least reformed the system in the sense that being an Auror is something to strive for, not just something you do if all other's paths close. With you in the force, I'd personally feel safer myself."

"That's a nice speech, but I think you can take care of yourself just fine," Tonks said with a laugh. "Where'd you learn to wield a sword like that?"

Harry paused, looking at her outline in the steam. "Ah, you have to leave a man some secrets, right?"

"You're not a man though, are you?" Tonks asked, and rather than it being a statement, it sounded more like a question. The air in the bath turned fragile and Harry took a gulp of his wine to delay answering.

"I think it's quite clear that some special circumstances made me grow up very, very fast. It's not something I want to get into, but maybe we can leave it at the fact that, unlike other students, to whom Hogwarts was the start of the journey… I've lived a very curious life already before this school," he eventually said.

It was a testament of the bond that Harry and Tonks had created, by dancing around each other for two years now, before codifying their relationship with a bloody and violent secret they'd likely take to the grave, that Tonks didn't dig.

"Alright. I'll accept that," she said quietly. "But what now?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean. After yesterday. What's next?"

Harry tilted his head. "Classes?"

"That's it? I go back to trying hard on my NEWTs, trying to get into the Auror programme. You get back to duelling, getting Outstandings?"

Harry had his eyes closed as she asked those questions. Finding them quite calming. Yes, he would like to go back to duelling, to classes.

Werewolves weren't really present in the life he envisioned for himself.

"Yeah, shit happens, life goes on," he answered simply.

"I guess you're right," Tonks said, suddenly closer. Harry opened his eyes and glanced to the left where the girl had approached him. She was now close enough to notice the colour of her hair. The pensive, calm, but still slightly pained look in her eyes.

She hugged him and he hugged her back. It felt warm and reassuring. As if he hadn't known that he was still alive until the hug.

After the hug, Tonks got out of the water.

He heard her putting on clothes behind him before she came over to kneel next to his head. A hand suddenly touched his hair, running through it gently before pulling his head backwards, making him look up directly into the now green eyes of the metamorph hovering over him.

"Thanks for saving my life, Harry. You're an amazing person," she said, before standing back up. "I think I need to be alone and rest for a bit."

"Take time to process everything, and come find me if you have to talk," Harry replied, not particularly minding being left alone either. It had been an... odd day, suffice to say.

Tonks paused at the doorway, turning back towards him one last time with a cryptic gaze. "Of course, let's talk when we can, but for the moment. "You have a duelling championship to win, and I have an academy admittance to earn."

The door closed behind her.

A sigh. "Felixis Felicis, huh? Survived an attempt on my life and gained a friend for life." He was fairly sure that from this point onwards, he would never abandon her, or she him.

He stayed in the room for another hour, moving from the pool to the pillows where a hookah was waiting for him. Laying there, enjoying himself, Harry realised that he was getting used to almost dying. But the haze of the alcohol and… other substances made him come to a realisation that he wouldn't have come to sober.

He wasn't afraid of it anymore. As long as it was for a good cause