Artifact ch.12

He returned to the living room and took the watch out of its box. "Darling? Could you come here for a moment? I have something to show you..."

But instead, there was a note in the box:

Harry,

I know about the watch. I know what it's for; I know what you did. I saw you.

Last night was a nice farewell, and that's it. This is your only warning: fuck off. Back off. Or I will make your life a living hell. - Padma

Alright, thought Harry. Damn.

He had barely processed the contents of the note when someone knocked loudly on the door. Oh shit, he thought. His stomach instantly churned. Was it the cops again? He would have to play it as cool as possible.

He knew he had taken good care of Tonks - she was attracted to him, and she was even a bit devoted to him in case he needed her later - but maybe he had forgotten to work on some part of the religious obsession he had bestowed upon her. Maybe she had started preaching on the streets. Maybe there was a whole squad of cops outside ready to bash his head in for what he did to their own.

The door rattled again, more insistently. "I know you're in there! Come on! Open up." The voice sounded familiar. Not the cops? He opened the door.

"Hey, Harry."

"Goyle?"

His loan shark, Goyle, stood on the porch with a beautiful young brunette in a tight yellow dress. She looked like a porn star or a prostitute, her breasts prominently displayed in the shiny vinyl of her outfit, and her hair teased and styled to look as sexy as possible. "Goyle," the woman moaned. "You said you'd take me to brunch. I dressed up."

"Barbara, be quiet. The big man is busy." Goyle glared at Harry. "Or you won't be going anywhere."

The girl opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue with him but suddenly thought better of it. "Alright, Goyle."

Harry chuckled nervously. This was madness. "You're not crazy. Nothing is... nothing is madness." So now, I'm crazy, right?

Goyle, shorter than Harry but much, much more powerful, pushed Harry against the wall. A few shelves toppled over - wedding photos of him and Padma scattered everywhere. Harry swallowed, trying to smile. It was like an angry boxer dog nipping at your heels. All chest and push.

"Nobody is crazy. Not crazy at all. Everything is fine. Everything is wonderful."

"It doesn't seem like everything is fine, Harry. I don't feel great. Barbara, how are you feeling?"

"Bored! You're not even hitting him, Goyle. This is boring."

"Do you hear that? She's bored, and nothing is wonderful. How is it wonderful now, Harry? Tell me, how wonderful it is."

In a panic, Harry finally grasped the solution that had been gnawing at his consciousness ever since he saw Goyle at the front door. "I have your money!" He laughed nervously, in a high-pitched tone. "I have it. Your money. I have it."

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "You have it? Now? Here?" He looked around.

"No. I mean, yes. I have it, but it's not here. You see?"

Goyle punched him in the stomach, and Harry stumbled, barely catching himself on the table. Barbara gasped, and her face lit up with joy.

"Don't feed me that nonsense. I have it, Goyle. Just give me a day or two." "Don't worry, I'll get you the money. Just give me some time. I've heard it all before, Harry."

"No, really... I don't need time. It's just in a different place, so I guess I need time to get there, but..."

Goyle raised his fist again, ready to strike. Harry raised his hands in surrender.

"You're right," he agreed. "Yes, you said it. Absolutely right. I don't have it now. My mistake. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you."

"You'll mislead me if you talk to me about money again without having it in your hands, understand?"

Harry didn't understand literally, but he had a developed enough mind to know what that colorful language meant.

"Of course. I apologize."

Goyle left the room for a few minutes, leaving Harry alone with Barbara. She refused to look at him, rolling her eyes and pouting. Her face was bored and empty. Eventually, Goyle returned to the living room with Padma's jewelry box. "I'll take this," Goyle said.

"That's my wife's jewelry."

"Isn't it? What do you think, Barbara? Do you like it?"

Barbara looked at the colorful bands gently jingling on her wrists. "It's okay. But it's kind of like stuff for old people." She made a sympathetic face at Harry. Or "mature." That's better, honey, right?"

Harry felt dejected. If they took Padma's things, she would blame him. And if she thought he was messing with her life, she'd try to mess with his... and she had the watch.

"Forget it. Don't take that. How about a television, huh? It's a flat screen."

"Flat screen?" Barbara's face brightened momentarily. Harry's hopes rose. "Is it smart?"

"Smart?"

She nodded, excited. "Yes! Does it play movies and stuff?"

"No. But it... it has a DVD player." "DVD?" Barbara paled. "All the good ones have Blu-Ray. The really good ones stream. This is junk. It's all junk, Goyle. It's just some junk. Can we go?"

Goyle furrowed his brows, wondering what a television even was. "I'm taking the jewelry," he stated, shaking the box. "If you want to get it back, make sure you have my money."

"You were going to break my legs, weren't you? Weren't you? Why do you have to take the jewelry too? Are you trying to negotiate with me, wizard? Is that what you're doing?"

"No, Goyle, I just..."

The lender struck him in the face. Barbara squealed with delight, rubbing against his arm.

"Oh my God, Goyle!" She giggled. "You're such a brute. Can we skip brunch?"

Her legs curled around the loan shark's thigh. Forgetting about the beating, Goyle left with his date, and his hand slipped under Barbara's tight dress.

The beautiful woman probably didn't know - or maybe she did, who knows - but she had just spared Harry a beating. He promised himself that later, when he retrieved the watch, he wouldn't hold it against her.

But first, he had to come up with a plan.

Somehow, he had to come up with a plan. Tonks didn't quite know what to do with it.

She took a day off from work. Her lieutenant seemed disappointed, but Tonks insisted she had the flu.

This excuse seemed to work - or maybe she showed up on time so often that he didn't seem to care - so now, in her own time, she returned to the warehouse. It was mid-afternoon, and her mind couldn't rest from the previous day when she left the warehouse in a blind, stumbling fog. It took her thirty minutes just to remember how to start her car.

Submission. She craved it now. She didn't remember much of it. All she knew for sure was that every blindingly hot moment of orgasm she had ever experienced, every feeling of guilt and self-loathing she had alone in her bed at night for playing stupid with her fingers, every last little fantasy she had of absolute and complete surrender to His care and love...

Somehow, it had been activated there, in that place. In Potter's workshop.

After meeting him, she immediately returned home, slipped her fingers into her pussy, pressed her thumb against her clit, and forgot about anything that wasn't glorious submission to some unimaginably hot entity.

She didn't remember - at least in images - what had happened to her in the workshop. She had tried many times to remember, but everything she did made her horny. All she knew for sure was that she had completely surrendered and that it was brilliant. Perfect. Transcendent. And she wanted more.

She knocked on the door again. This time more timidly. She dressed up nicely, as best she could, in a yellow knee-length skirt that hugged her ass; she tied her red hair into an intricate bun. Her pale skin made brighter colors look better on her - as a result, she wore a blue blouse, and her breasts were squeezed into a hastily purchased push-up bra, just for this occasion.

Potter opened the door. Her heart started to beat faster. She clenched her lips, trembling. In need. "Oh God," she put her hand to her face. "I should have expected this."

"Excuse me?"

"Are you here to arrest me, right? Something like that?"

"Why would I arrest you?"

"Because you are... never mind. Come in." She entered.

"I didn't come to arrest you, Mr. Potter. I'm here on my own time. I... something happened yesterday, and I..."

From behind, there were cries. Cries of joy, elation, and almost madness. Her words quieted, and she looked fearfully at the hypnotist.

"Experiment," he explained, his voice trembling.

"I just have a few questions I'd like to go over, Mr. Andretti."

"Please," he touched her hand. "Call me Harry." He watched as she visibly trembled. "Please, Mrs. Pot - Harry. Don't do this."

She took a few steps back. Her pale skin flushed with sudden desire.

It must have been uplifting for him to see the effect he had on a woman. Surely, he began to smile. Any doubts he initially had started to fade, and he became once again the arrogant, self-assured prick she saw yesterday.

"Maybe I should introduce you to everyone?" he suggested. "Perhaps they'll answer your questions better than I can."

"But I..."

He took her hand and led her to the warehouse in the back. Several beautiful young women were waiting there - all with smiles on their faces. There was a tall woman in purple lingerie; a straw-blond and buxom brunette, both wearing matching pink outfits with stripes, complete with platform heels; a blonde in tight denim shorts and a too-small T-shirt; and definitely stunning, green-eyed brunette, who looked strangely out of place in her expensive, sexy black cocktail dress.

"I suppose I should introduce you to the crowd," he said, grinning stupidly. "Fleur, Rose, Tracey, Susan, and Daphne. Girls, meet Tonks."

Five girls waved to Tonks. They all seemed delighted by her presence, except for one named Rose. Rose, however, had jealousy in her eyes.

"Another one, huh?" Rose snorted. "Is she necessary, brother? I wanted to talk to you privately."

"She's an Auror, Rose. Show some respect."

"Detective," Tonks muttered, but she lacked the strength.

Rose was unyielding, though.

"I want to talk to you at home, Harry. I don't like... I don't like being around these girls. I know you trust them, and they're important to you, but... I want to talk to you at home, please? I need to be alone with you."

Harry appeared conflicted, as if he had lost something important.

"Very well. Come then. But Fleur is coming too."

The tall, statuesque blonde jumped happily at the mention of her name, and her breasts bounced up and down in her tight little shirt.

Rose smiled to herself. "Of course."

The stepsiblings locked arms and started walking away. When they were almost at the door, Tonks realized she had to say something. She wasn't just an object to be forgotten - not really. Was she? She wasn't, right? No, no, she wasn't an object, even if the thought made her heart race and her pussy throb in agreement.

Tonks cleared her throat. "Ms. Potter, if I may...?"

He interrupted her, clearly annoyed. Whatever his sister wanted to "talk" about, he seemed very pleased to be able to join the conversation.

"Oh God. Alright. Listen up, girls."

The assistant-dressed girls - Susan, Tracey, and Daphne - perked up.

"Take care of her, alright? Just... keep her occupied, okay?"

He touched Tonks's arm, and she almost fell to her knees from his sudden pleading look. "I'm sorry for this," he said, pulling her hands to her cheeks. She let out a soft moan. "I'll be with you in... in a moment, okay? If you stay. Will you stay?"

There was no mention of time, how long she would have to wait. But of course, she agreed.

She watched him go, longing in her gaze as she looked at his ass. He had a nice ass. God, she wanted to touch it. She could still feel the warmth of his hands on her cheeks.

Fingers landed on her arms, turning her around. Daphne, Susan, and Tracey were waiting, exposing their cleavage in tiny outfits. Susan took the lead, summoning the other girls forward. All of them had hot, predatory looks in their eyes. Tracey tugged gently at Tonks's blouse, and Daphne did the same from the other side. Susan, smiling and composed, began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. Tonks felt terrible, utterly out of control. And she loved it.

Susan giggled, and the other girls giggled along. "Me... like this?"

"We need to take care of you now."