Nymphadora Tonks walked down the mobile stairs, straight onto the hot apron of the Airport of Gran Canaria. Even with the trade winds, which made the final approach more akin to a beater drill back at Hogwarts, the heat was unbearable and the young witch lamented that the waiting bus did not have a working air conditioner. And that there were too many people around to sneak a cooling charm. Even the cramped Airbus had managed to cool down its one hundred passengers to a pleasant, if slightly freezing, 18 degrees, so why couldn't a bloody bus do the same?

Sure, sitting still for more than four hours while the plane carried her from the rains of Gatwick to the burning sun of the Canary Islands was not the most comfortable form of travelling, but was still leagues better than an international Portkey trip, or even worse, trying to cross 1800 miles through the Floo network. The furthest she ever had gone was the four hundred miles from Hogsmeade to her parent's home in Norwich, but even that had been more than enough for Tonks' tastes. Thanks to the aeroplane enthusiast on the Muggle side of her family, this had been far from her first experience with flying without magic and therefore nothing but a mild inconvenience. The metamorph still fondly recalled the shocked expression of her friend Ashley when the pureblood thought that the Concorde was a muggle time machine because the arrival time was before its departure from Heathrow.

While the shuttle bus waited for the remaining passengers, she couldn't stop herself from once again laughing about the reason for her improvised holiday. Harry Potter had gone missing shortly after a Dementor attack. The Minister had gone completely mad and spit out a raving rant that would have left even her mad aunt blushing with envy. And while the magical government of Britain finished its descent into insanity, everyone else tried to find the missing boy, be it out of worry or to cash in the fat bounty on his head. As the latest member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, she had drawn the tedious duty to investigate a rumoured sighting on a remote Spanish colony, or at least that's what they told her.

Once Tonks learned that the "remote colony" was, in fact, a bustling tourist location, she promptly took two weeks off from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and told her former headmaster that she'd conduct a thorough search on the entire island. The old man had praised her diligence and willingness to make sacrifices. During that, Tonks had to use all of her metamorphic abilities to stop her grin from becoming too obvious. It had been a hard, exhausting battle, but in the end, she not only won but talked into Albus paying for the trip. And using Muggle transportation to avoid alarming anybody was certainly not a chore if she considered the alternatives.

Now, Tonks would be nothing but diligent, a thorough examination of the most likely spots already planned. Should Harry, against all expectations, have somehow managed to get onto this island, he would have to have some kind of fake ID. The Potters had been well off and there were exactly two kinds of places a fifteen-year-old boy with de facto unlimited money and a forged ID would visit: the beaches and the nightclubs. And, being the skilled investigator that she was, Tonks deducted that she would have to begin her search there.

Going undercover would yield the best results, therefore she would blend in with the other tourists instead of looking like a Hogwarts graduate. Besides, keeping black, woollen robes cooled in the blazing sun would be way harder than a loose t-shirt and shorts. In the end, this whole Order business did not seem bad at all.

Three days passed and the investigation of the nearest beaches turned out to be fruitless. After a close call with sunburn, the Auror concluded that Harry Potter was nowhere near the airport and that she needed better suntan lotion. The magical one she had been using was made for the occasional warm day in Britain, not the subtropical inferno above.

And so Tonks found herself in the shopping district of Las Palmas, the island's capital, where she enjoyed a delightfully cold iced coffee while the sun slowly climbed higher. Her shadowed spot in a small cafe overlooked the harbour and made it easy to watch the enormous ferries and gigantic cruise liners as they came and went. Her intelligence briefing, courtesy of Dumont, mentioned three climate zones, but experiencing a desert changing into English rain within an hour of driving was something no book could properly convey, not even the travel guide. It was a sobering thought, how many wonders, both great and small, were spread across the globe, enough to spend ten lifetimes travelling and yet still never see them all. Due to her sudden inspiration, the witch decided to forgo sunbathing, drinking and dancing for this day and see if there were any tours which took holiday goers like herself to interesting places. After all, you never knew where Harry Potter might be hiding.

A waiter explained the way to the nearest travel agency as she settled her bill. A short walk later, big signs promoted over a dozen different adventures, from swimming with dolphins to hikes through the countryside.

"Can't decide what to do?"

Tonks spun around, expecting that the sing-song voice belonged to an employee eager to talk her ear off. Instead, she came face to face with a young woman wearing a backpack bigger than her own suitcase. Her curly hair was an interesting mixture of green and black which would be challenging to copy, even with metamorphic abilities.

"How did ya know that I speak English?"

"I think 's obvious."

Looking at her clothes the Auror realised what she wore and that she had, once again, made a fool out of herself. "Completely forgot about that."

"Not a fan then?" the stranger asked, pointing at the white Tottenham jersey.

"Not really, only my mum trying to be funny. Dad's nickname is Ted and there was one incident when I was five and called him Teddy. Mum never lets me forget about it and thought it hilarious if I had Teddy Sheringham's name on my shirt. And since most of my stuff is black I just grabbed the first white shirt I could find."

"Your mum is odd."

"That's what I've been saying for the last two decades," Tonks huffed with more than a little frustration. "I mean, she's just trying to be a joker - You run into ONE business dinner and she won't let you hear the end of it."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as the other woman first giggled and then burst into laughter.

"Sorry, but I'm just imagining a mafia gathering, dark room filled with smoke. Everyone in suits, fat cigars, one lamp over the table, they are talking about who gets a bullet next and suddenly a cute little girl with purple hair and a fairy dress runs to the godfather, calling him Teddy."

"I did not wear a fairy dress, ever. And no one was smoking, Mum would have killed them."

"But your dad is the godfather?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

After another round of laughter which followed this deadpan reply, the woman introduced herself as Gwen Evans. "I heard that 's rude to laugh at people without knowing their name and you wouldn't want me to be rude, right?"

"Name's Tonks, Dora Tonks."

"Well Miss 007, I take you work for the MI6 then."

"Scotland Yard actually," the Auror quipped. It was their official cover story and the department even had handed out matching badges in case any Muggle would demand to see them.

"They allowed you to have purple hair for this?" Gwen wanted to know after she did a double-take and examined the badge. Tonks froze for a second because she had forgotten that the picture on her ID was charmed to always look like her.

"Yeah, I know the guy who issues these. And usually, people have bigger problems when they see this."

"That they are about to be arrested?"

"Yeah, minor issues like that."

"Say Dora, you want to do something awesome?

"What d'ya have in mind?"

"There are these coach tours that go across the island and show you the best spots. I did one of them on Lanzarote, that's the island over there, last week and it was awesome. There was this huge lava field and they played some classical music while driving through it. The landscape there looks like the moon out there and when they played the Star Wars theme I had shivers running down my spine."

"Are you sure you're not trying to sell me something? Because it's working."

"Nah, I have to pay for them as well."

And so Tonks found herself in a coach with her new friend, driving to banana plantations, old villages and up the island's tallest mountain while a guide told stories about Gran Canaria. There were no lava fields and no music, but the company made more than up for it. Gwen, a second-year student at Cardiff University, had been backpacking across Europe for the last month, taking advantage of her father's fortune to see places she only ever heard of instead of going on "that bloody cruise with all the boring rich people only interested in stuffing their faces and their pissing contests to see who's got the largest - fortune."

They spent hours talking about their lives, slightly edited on Tonks' part. Stinging hexes became electric shocks and Moody had fought the Argentinians during the Falkland War, not Death Eaters in Diagon Alley. But there were more than enough stories devoid of magic, like her cousin Mel talking her into joining Norwich City's youth squad. The Welsh woman told stories from her architecture studies in return. Stories which usually involved friends in high spirits and spirits.

By the time the bus made its way to the southern end of the island, the outdoor temperature once again crossed the thirty-degree mark and not a single cloud was in sight. Since the largest dunes in Europe were a sight to behold, Tonks did not object to ditching the tour and continuing her investigation into Harry Potter's location on foot while her new friend prattled on about the towns surrounding the dunes. One of them was called Playa del Ingles, the Englishman's beach, and it sounded like a place the wayward wizard might visit. The outstanding local nightlife had, of course, no influence on where the valiant Auror chose to investigate.

Tonks woke up the next morning and was disappointed to find the mattress next to her cold and empty. Not that she had expected breakfast in bed and a serenade, but waking up alone simply wasn't as nice as spooning someone. Any further thoughts were drowned out by a massive headache and finding a hangover potion became her number one priority.

One wandless summoning charm later, the witch felt her headache fading when the side effects of the potion kicked in and she suddenly felt like she should be doing something, anything. She didn't even realise that it was just eight in the morning.

Overflowing with energy, Tonks just glanced over a note from Gwen before dismissing it. There would be time to read that later, she needed to do something, and that might as well be a run on the beach. Who knew, maybe Harry or any possible kidnapper was hiding between other tourists.

Ten minutes and a cold shower later, the worst side effects of the hangover cure had worn off, but Tonks still felt like going on that run, partially because she was already covered in sun lotion and in her running outfit. Granted, a sports bra and hot pants would be inadequate in London, but under the burning sun of the Spanish beaches that wouldn't even raise eyebrows.

After three miles and a cold coke from a beach vendor, Tonks was sore. Running on the beach sounded fun in theory, but turned out to be bloody exhausting, even before the inferno above scorched the island. But she also felt something different, a faint pull on the edge of her perception. There was something unnatural drawing her towards the restaurants at the beach promenade. A distant part of her brain was screaming about the Imperius and mind control, but it didn't feel right. Every Auror went through training where they were exposed to the curse, but there was no mind-numbing bliss. Just something tugging at her like a little child or a kitten trying to get her attention. And Moody had made sure that she experienced every kind of malicious mind magic, yet the sensation was not familiar.

So being the investigative Auror she was, Tonks chose to follow it. After all, it might be Harry Potter hiding behind some obscure charm.

As she approached the Sand and Breakfast, the pull got stronger and stronger until she zeroed in on a hammock in front of it. The canvas was occupied by two people, but Tonks only had eyes for one of them.

The gorgeous blonde was clad in a white two-piece, her skin both pale and shining like polished brass. Some distant memories from the World Cup and the Bulgarian mascots made a return, but Tonks couldn't connect the dots just yet.

With practised ease, she went through the exercise to shake off magical influences and promptly tripped over. Resting on top the blonde's chest, clearly visible for everyone bothering to look, was none other than Harry bloody Potter. The mop of black hair, the green eyes and the scar were unmistakable. Although to be fair, most people were not able to reshape their eyes and zoom in on something from a hundred yards.

However, despite their rather intimate position, the pair looked more like a family. There was nothing sexual about their position, instead, she almost looked like a mother holding her child. She played with his hair and drew patterns on his back while he had a stupid, utterly content smile on his face. Then again, who wouldn't when pressed into the tits of a goddess?

There was something unnatural, even inhuman about the witch. Her blonde hair shimmered like beaten gold, her pale skin glistened like snow in the sunlight, her tits looked unbelievably firm. Tonks found herself impossibly jealous of Harry for his choice of pillow before she shook off the allure once more. However, Veela could apparently notice when someone fought their nature since she was looking at the Auror over the rim of her sunglasses. That or a stranger, staring at them from a stance, not unlike an athlete about to sprint to Olympic gold, was just suspicious.

Since her cover was blown, Tonks decided that she might as well introduce herself and find out why in Merlin's name Harry Potter was lounging next to a tourist café in Playa de Ingles. And why he was with a girl who suspiciously looked like the Beauxbatons champion from the Triwizard Tournament.

"'Ow did you find us here?"

The icy tone was a stark contrast to the girl's breathtaking looks, and, in surprise, Tonks actually took a step back. She blurted out the first thing which came to her mind before the situation got ugly. "Dumbledore sent me!"

But the blonde only raised an eyebrow. "Is zat so?"

Well, addressing her did not work out, but maybe Harry would be more inclined to talk. "My name is Tonks and I'm just one of many people searching for you." Wait, that sounded both creepy and threatening. "Look, I'm not going to drag you back to the Isles kicking and screaming, but you have a lot of people worried, your friends included, and you owe them an explanation."

"I don't – There really isn't much to tell. Fleur came to visit me, we went for a walk through the neighbourhood and it started to pour. We ran under a motorway bridge when a pair of dementors showed up. We both cast the Patronus charm - "

"His was bigger, and 'e 'as just turned fifteen," Fleur threw in with a pout.

"Well, I'd hope that Harry is bigger, if only for his sake."

"Anyway, five minutes later I got a letter telling me that I was expelled for saving my soul and that they would snap my wand," Harry said over the witches' laughter, which had broken the tense moment. "So Fleur apparated us back to my relatives, I snuck in, grabbed my trunk and she popped us to her hometown. Two explanations and a favour later, I was enrolled at the Norman School for Magic in Sées and a subject of the Grand Duke of Luxembourg, residing abroad in Saintes - "

"In my family's town," the blonde cut in and fixed Tonks with a piercing stare. "Now, Miss Tonks, what.. Xb will you do next with zat knowledge?"

"Wonder how all of this went down without Mundungus noticing - "

"Who?"

"Dumbledore had people watching you – I was considered too 'new and unproven' for that responsibility. I'm a fully trained Auror, mind you," Tonks scoffed. "It was mostly his friends and allies who fought with him in the last war, but not all of them are particularly capable. Mundungus, for example, spends most of his time drinking and smoking, and not in the fun way. He was supposed to be guarding you that evening, but didn't even notice your visitor, much less the dementors. And I have no idea how he slept through two of those demons either."

"Wait, I had a guard?" Harry asked, his voice hardened by anger.

"Yes - " Tonks replied slowly, taken aback by the barked question.

"For how long?"

"The summer hols' - "

"And despite that, Dumbledore has no idea where I am?" Harry interrupted, incredulity spilling into his voice.

"No, even I had no idea until I stumbled across her Allure and then noticed you. I came here on some rumour Dumbledore has heard, but even he was not - "

Tonks was not sure what exactly Fleur was mumbling under her breath, but she recognised an impressive amount of curse words.

"So, what happens next?" Harry asked slowly, still trying to process that despite being guarded by his people, Dumbledore had no idea about Fleur, who had been in Surrey for half of the summer break.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Tonks replied, thinking. "Dumbledore said to bring you back, but Fudge managed to have you expelled," the metamorph pointed out, changing her green pixie cut to dark curls. Alastor had always insisted that she ought to wear a serious look for serious conversations. "The old man argued that expulsion is a privilege of the headmaster, so the Minister tried and sentenced you in absentia. Being a convicted criminal prevents you from attending Hogwarts - "

"So I can't go back?" Harry interrupted once more.

"For now. As soon as the Dark Lord reveals himself, Fudge is out and we can get your conviction overturned. My boss wasn't happy with your trial."

"Your boss?"

"Madam Bones, driest cunt in the Ministry. Does everything by the book - Woman 'd marry the law if she could," Tonks mumbled under her breath before remembering what she had been talking about. "Had Fudge railroaded you by the book, she wouldn't care at all, but he had you tried by the full Wizengamot for underage magic. That's reserved for adults, and adults cannot cast underage magic, which means that Fudge voided his own case on a technicality."

"That's my defence?"

"'S better than still being guilty of not showing up. Which, you know, you actually did."

"I didn't even know that there was a trial!" Harry's indignant voice rose to a shout.

"There was a notice after - wait, how quickly did you leave the country?"

"I don't know, maybe five minutes after the howler which told me that someone would come and snap my wand - "

"Ah, that'd do. You see, the Ministry can only send you messages on the Isles - "

"So that's another loophole?" Harry asked and Tonks felt bad that she had to crush the ray of hope in his eyes.

"No. If you're accused and flee, that counts as an admission of guilt. And given that you ran off to France, with their Triwizard champion - well, that move didn't win you any sympathy."

"What should Harry do next then?" Fleur wanted to know, her hand back to hovering over her left wrist, which meant that she probably had an invisible wand holster there and was still wary of their unexpected visitor.

"Well, Dumbledore didn't foresee a situation where you'd be happy to stay away, so he gave me no instructions for that case."

"So you will report back to him and - "

"And interrupt my beach hol - I mean, my watch over you? No bloody way. There are many dangers lurking - sunburn, stubbing your toe - alcohol poisoning - "

"You seem to take your task very seriously," Fleur pointed out dryly.

"I'm supposed to find and protect Harry if necessary. I have found him and you've been alone with him for two weeks and he's fine, so the only thing you are endangering is his virtue - whatever 's left of it anyway," Tonks replied with a shrug. She might be new to the Order, but Mad-Eye had made sure that she knew how to watch over people. "So other than occasionally coming by to make sure you aren't in intensive care for alcohol poisoning, I'll leave you to your fun. You seem to be in good hands after all."

"Oi!"

"Wonderboy, you have a Veela guarding you like the Queen's crown jewels and are using her left tit as a pillow. Also, the glamours on your hickeys are not done well. Whatever you two get up to is none of my business, but don't act as if I'm stupid."

"Well - it's - you - " Harry stuttered while Fleur only laughed at his embarrassment.

"How did that happen anyway?"

"We were both - stuck in the Hogwarts infirmary after the Third task," Fleur explained, her voice oddly detached. "Sleeping Potions do not work well after the Cruciatus, so we talked. We got out a week later, but stayed in - talking?"

"In touch. I was not coping very well with the graveyard so Fleur decided to thank me for saving her from Krum by keeping me company. Veela magic is very good against nightmares - " Harry trailed off with a goofy grin.

"Oh, I've no trouble believing that."

"It is good to see that not all English are so prude, but you 'ave the wrong picture. Our magic can be very soothing - like a warm blanket. Out of all mind magics, it is ze only one which 'urts neither side. Let me show you!"

Tonks was hit by a wave of magic in the blink of an eye. Way too late she braced herself for the shock which never came. Instead, she relaxed and felt the tension of the encounter fade away. A warm blanket was indeed a good description for the feeling Fleur's magic could evoke. It made her feel safe and content, and nothing else mattered. As if she was seven again and her mother had brought her a warm cup of chocolate after a nightmare.

"See?"

The return to the present was very gradual. Under any other circumstances, Tonks would have wanted to wipe the smug smirk from Fleur's face. But as the effects of the Veela magic slowly ebbed away, all she could do was blink and be envious of Harry.

"You get that all the time?"

"Not that strong, but yes - "

"You are one lucky bastard, you know that?"

"Yup!"

"You don't have to sound so smug, you know?"

AN:

Beta-ed by LifeEquals42

I know that there is no "Veela allure" in canon, but "the alluring influence Veela have on other people" is a mouthful.

Also, that's it for this universe. There will be no second chapter or sequel. Because I honestly can't think of anything else to add without breaking the theme, or it would already be in this oneshot.