The moon hung high over the jagged spires of Hogwarts, casting silver light through the high, arched windows of the classroom Ethan had claimed. The silken mattress he'd manifested was the only luxury in the room, and Ethan was sprawled on it, staring at the ceiling, lost in his own head.
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A flicker of lavender light caught his eye.
Tonks stepped in, wearing a loose, oversized band T-shirt and short sleep-shorts. The combat gear was gone, but her expression was uncharacteristically heavy. She leaned against the doorframe, her hair a muted, melancholic blue.
"So," she said, her voice quiet. "Now that the dust has settled and the big bad is ash... what happens to the man from the stars? Do you just blink out of existence and go back to wherever you came from?"
Ethan let out a long, slow sigh, propping himself up on his elbows. "Yeah. This isn't my world, afterall. I can't stay here for long. Since my business is done. I will have to go back to my world"
Tonks looked down at her feet, her toes curling against the stone floor. "Right. Figures. Save the world, get the girl, and then vanish into a glittering orange hole. Very heroic. Very annoying."
Ethan laughed, a warm sound that seemed to fill the quiet room. He reached out, his hand glowing with a faint golden light. "Hey, don't write my eulogy just yet. And it's not like I am leaving forever. I've marked this world. It means I can come back whenever I want. You're stuck with me, Pinky. I'm just taking a sabbatical." Ethan said recalling the skill he got as reward [Dimensional Anchor]
The blue in Tonks's hair instantly flared back into a vibrant, hopeful pink. "You can come back? Really? You're not just saying that to keep me from hexing you into next Tuesday?"
"Cross my heart," Ethan promised. "And besides... I haven't even seen the world yet. I spent the last three days in a dark forest, a bank vault, and a school under siege. I want to see the sights. Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry... I want to see what a wizarding world looks like when it isn't on fire."
He looked at her, his eyes tracing the curves she wasn't bothering to hide. "I was hoping a certain Metamorphmagus would show me around. You know, a private tour."
Tonks smirked, her confidence returning in a heartbeat. She walked over to the bed, her hips swaying with a deliberate, predatory grace. "A tour, huh? I don't know, Williams. I'm a very busy person. Rebuilding a government, hunting down stragglers, being a hero... my hourly rate is quite high. Don't expect anything for free."
Ethan's grin turned wicked. He sat up, his hands moving to the waistband of his trousers. "Is that so? Well, I don't have much local currency left, but I think I can offer a different kind of... reimbursement."
He didn't hesitate. He pulled his trousers down, and his rock-hard length—sprang free, thick and pulsing in the moonlight. "Will this be enough of a down payment for the first day?"
Tonks's eyes widened, her hair flashing a deep, sunset scarlet. She didn't look away; instead, she leaned down, her fingers circling the base with a firm, knowing grip.
"Well," she whispered, her voice dropping into that sultry, throat-rattling growl. "I suppose I can make an exception for a 'Master of the Mystic Arts.' Consider the first session... an investment."
*****
Tonks didn't waste another second. She dropped to her knees between his legs, her hands sliding up his thighs to pull him closer. She leaned in, her warm breath ghosting over the sensitive tip before her tongue flicked out, tracing the length with a slow, agonizingly deliberate stroke.
Ethan let out a low, guttural groan, his fingers tangling in her pink hair as she took him into her mouth. She was talented—terrifyingly so. Being a Metamorphmagus meant she didn't just use what nature gave her; she could shift her throat and tongue in real-time, creating a suction and texture that no ordinary woman could match. She bobbed her head rhythmically, her eyes locked onto his, watching the way his composure crumbled.
She pulled back for a moment, only to move lower. She cupped his balls in one hand, her tongue swirling around them, licking and teasing the sensitive skin. The contrast of her cool fingers and her hot, wet tongue sent jolts of electricity straight to Ethan's core. He arched his back against the silk sheets, his breath hitching as she worked her way back up, swirling her tongue around the crown before swallowing him whole again.
"Tonks... fuck," Ethan rasped, his head falling back.
She pulled away with a wet pop, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not so fast, Williams. I want a taste of everything."
She climbed onto the bed, spinning her body around until she was hovering over him in a 69 position. Her pussy was mere inches from his face, and the scent of her—sweet, musky, and completely ready—hit him like a physical blow.
Ethan didn't need to be told twice. He reached up, his hands gripping her round, firm ass cheeks to pull her down. He buried his face in her heat, his tongue diving deep into her soaked folds. Tonks let out a jagged, high-pitched moan into his crotch as she simultaneously took him back into her mouth.
The room was filled with the sound of wet, rhythmic sliding and Tonks's muffled, frantic whimpers. Her hair strobed through chaotic flashes of red and violet as Ethan's tongue worked with the same surgical precision he used for his magic. He flicked over her clit, his thumbs spreading her wide so he could taste every drop of her arousal.
Tonks was vibrating against him, her internal muscles pulsing in a frantic rhythm as she sucked him harder, her hands digging into the silk mattress until she was nearly clawing through it. The heat in the room rose, the magic in the air crackling in sympathy with the raw, uninhibited friction between them.
Author's Note:
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