Title: Potions, Pixies and Portkeys: The Potion

Pairing: Scabior/Tonks

Rating: M

Genre: Drama/General

Summary: A string of other people's mistakes leads to a wild, hazy ride with a back-alley dealer for 'Nymph'. Scabior/Tonks. Lang/Lem. First of three.

Disclaimer: I own nada…zilch…zero…nil…nought…nothing…bugger-all…sweet FA… (You get the idea.) Everything belongs to JKR – I just borrow her best characters and fiddle with their wands. *Giggles and runs away*

Mundungus looked up at the tall bloke before him – right handsome bastard he was, but his dark hair was coloured with a red streak and he had some kind of girly make-up smudged under his eyes which made the smaller wizard uncomfortable.

Not to mention, Mundungus knew the bloke's reputation.

They both stood in a shady corner of Knockturn Alley, both sizing up the other as Mundungus tried to decide whether it was worth trying to shift his stock off on him just to have the bloke screw him over.

He decided it was worth a shot.

"Alrigh', 'en."

The bloke grinned down at him. "Good. I'll be able to move 'em. Now, you still want…this?"

He conjureda small pink bottle.

Mundungus eyed it. "Love?"

"Lust," the bloke grinned, his white teeth flashing in the gloom.

Mundungus snatched it from his grasp. "Done."

"Just remember – the potion only works for you if you give it to someone; they can't stumble across it or anythin'. They have to know it's from you – or all you'll get is a big fat nothin', an' if they meet me…"

Mundungus nodded, not listening, and waved him over to the boxes of croaking old toads he had just conjured. "Sure, sure…"

"I'll bet yer me best potion!" Mundungus Fletcher declared, taking a large swig from his glass of Firewhiskey.

Sirius Black grinned at him across the wooden expanse of the kitchen table between them. "Show me."

The small man rummaged around in the pockets of his dirty brown coat for a moment, before pulling out a rounded, corked bottle filled with pink liquid – Sirius identified it immediately.

"A Love Potion?" He laughed.

Mundungus shook a stubby, thick finger at him. "No, no, Black – it's a Lust Potion. It's the same colour as Love, jus' tastes diff'rent."

Sirius' dark grey eyes widened…and he felt that old boyish, Marauder spark ignite within him – he wanted it.

"Deal," Sirius murmured, eyeing the potion as he magically shuffled and dealt the pack of cards before them…

Sirius beamed, holding the potion bottle and his winning cards aloft. "Bad luck, Dung."

Mundungus growled from his seat, before draining the last of his Firewhiskey and stalking out of the kitchen and, eventually, the house.

Sirius sat alone at the long kitchen table, eyeing his prize with hunger – he had no idea who he would use it on, since he was practically under house arrest, but just the thought…the possibility…of using it on some poor unsuspecting witch had made him up his game and beat Mundungus for it.

And now, he was just pleased to have the possibility of a brilliant one-night stand in his hands.

Perhaps, he thought, he could sneak out at some point and find someone to take back with–

The sound of the front door opening roused him from his thoughts.

Shit…

He stood and rushed around the kitchen, looking for a place to hide his prize – a long rack of spices, herbs, oils, and other cooking ingredients on the wall caught his eye and he quickly pulled a random bottle out of the crowd. He vanished the contents and charmed the Lust Potion to pour itself into the other bottle, before hastily vanishing the old Lust Potion bottle and replacing the other bottle now containing the Lust Potion back on the shelf.

He'd move it later, he thought as Molly and Arthur Weasley came through the kitchen door and greeted him warmly from their late night outing.

"How was your night with Mundungus?" Mr Weasley asked, shedding his scarf and cloak.

Sirius smiled. "Productive."

Molly Weasley bustled around the kitchen way before the cock had crowed that morning, making porridge and other breakfast things along with a slow-cooking soup for a light lunch that day.

She wiped a tendril of her fiery-red hair from her face as she magically stirred the large pot on the stove with a wooden spoon – she looked at the reasonably-thin dark orange soup with the eye of a seasoned cook.

"Needs something…more," she muttered to herself as she sipped a little of the soup from the spoon after lifting it to her lips.

The spoon continued to stir as she rummaged around the Grimmauld Place cupboards – they were practically bare, and she clucked her tongue as she thought to herself that she should go food shopping for the house soon.

Molly's eyes suddenly landed on a long rack of glass bottles, re-filled jam jars, and small pots…and she smiled.

Her fingers ran over the faces of the items…until she came to something that looked rather promising – a tall green bottle, unlabelled but emitting something that Molly identified as a 'good aura'.

She lifted it from the crowd and went back to her soup – uncorking it, she lifted it to the rim of the pot and tipped–

"Molly?" Arthur's voice sounded from outside the kitchen door.

Her head whipped around as she poured. "Yes, dear?"

"Have you seen my scarf?" He asked, entering the kitchen.

Molly sighed, rolling her eyes at her husband and putting down the bottle in her hand as the soup stirred itself. "It's just over here."

She went to the cloak hooks next to the kitchen door and lifted her husband's dark green scarf off one of them – she placed it around his neck with tender care.

"I knew that," he smiled cheekily. "I just wanted you to step away from the soup for fear of burning you if I did this."

"What?"

He leant forwards and kissed her hard, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her tightly to his body.

Fireworks went off inside of her, as they always did when her husband kissed her, and when he pulled away she felt herself go bright red.

"Oh, you," she muttered, fussing over his hair.

He just smiled down at her happily. "I'll see you later, Molly. I should be home early tonight."

The twinkle in her husband's eye didn't go unnoticed by her, but she studiously ignored it for fear of her face getting any hotter than it already was.

"Have a good day, then," she smiled, leaning up to kiss Arthur's cheek as he released her waist.

Both their noses suddenly twitched.

The scents of freshly baked bread and clean linen hit her and she gasped at the fiery feelings that erupted within her – she looked up at her husband to see his eyes had darkened to almost pitch-black.

"I don't need to go to work today," Arthur hurriedly murmured, taking Molly up in his arms and kicking open the kitchen door before striding up the staircase.

Molly gasped as his mouth came down on her neck, and she melted into him as he carried her upstairs to their assigned bedroom…

Tonks yawned, ruffling her bed-hair until she felt it shorten into a more manageable length for the morning.

She was not a morning person – even if it was, admittedly, very late morning – and she groaned as she remembered she had a long, boring day of watching Knockturn Alley and making sure there was no trouble.

She needed a pick-me-up.

Slowly, as if she were walking through treacle, she showered and dressed in long black robes that would blend in with those the occupants of Knockturn Alley wore, and then proceeded to stare at her hair in the mirror of her room at Grimmauld Place – it grew out slowly, the strands swirling outwards into long loose curls as they dyed themselves black.

She hated pure black hair.

A sudden bright pink streak appeared at her temple and flared out into its own curl.

Tonks smiled – just a little something to show she hadn't completely changed.

She considered changing her features but decided it wasn't necessary, before slipping on some trainers beneath her long robes and magically lacing them up.

Tonks grabbed her wand and wandered downstairs to the kitchen, hoping Mrs Weasley was around to feed her and give her the much-wanted pick-me-up.

She pushed open the kitchen door and was immediately assaulted by the smell of burnt porridge – rushing to the stove, she banishedthe pots on it to the sink and charmed the cold tap to run; steam immediately rose off of the metal objects and the smell of burning increased.

"Merlin," Tonks sighed, looking into the last pot left on the stove which wasn't smoking – where was Mrs Weasley?

There was a thickening orange soup of some kind filling the bottom inch of the pot which looked reasonably appetising–

With a gasp, Tonks looked down at her watch. "I'm late!"

She instantly charmed the soup to pour itself into a nearby mug, casted a warming spell over it and ran out of the house to Apparate off the top step to the Leaky Cauldron.

Tonks managed not to draw any glances as she made her way through the pub to the small courtyard that concealed the entrance to Diagon Alley – as she tapped the bricks, she pulled the mug in her other hand out from under her cloak and sipped at the contents.

Her eyes widened as the bricks rearranged themselves – the soup was good!

She could taste chicken and vegetables…but she could taste something else as well – it was something that reminded her of…old books…and long, grey jumpers…

The arch arranged itself before her and she schooled her surprised features so as not to draw any glances.

She practically floated towards Knockturn Alley, the soup warming her from the inside – she finished it quickly, before vanishingthe mug and licking her lips.

Tonks felt good.

Maybe her watch wouldn't be too bad after all.

Scabior sat back in his dark corner of the Black Wishing Well, a pub that was situated in the seediest part of Knockturn Alley and as far away from Diagon Alley as you could get.

The sun was setting and he was nursing his third pint of Rod Rotter's Cider.

The pub wasn't thriving, but it had a few patrons that were eager to get drunk and roll home – Scabior was content to spend his time watching them, with nothing to sell, push or do for the night

He did wonder who that little rat Fletcher had given the Lust Potion to though – he hoped the little bastard had listened to him when Scabior told him how he had to give it away.

He didn't want some ugly, clinging bird that Fletcher fancied finding him, all because the little rat was too stupid to listen to Scabior and give her the potion the right way.

It was one of Scabior's specialities – Potions – and he'd come top of his class every year in his time at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, his family hadn't been wealthy enough to continue his education and now he sold handmade Potions on the black market, among other things – he was twenty-five years old and he was already very well known in the darkest of circles.

Scabior downed some more cider, thinking of how he'd already been approached by a couple of Death Eaters.

Now, he wasn't a moral man by any means – years in Slytherin had seen to that – but he didn't want to get involved with their lot.

Trouble. That's all Death Eaters were – trouble…

Speaking of…

Just at that moment, the door to the Black Wishing Well opened and a dark cloaked figure entered.

A sudden chill ran through Scabior's body.

The figure strode to the dimly-lit bar, sat and ordered something…and then flicked the hood of their cloak back.

Long, shining, dark curls fell from the hood, splaying themselves down the back of the person's cloak, and Scabior found himself wishing it was a woman – he hadn't found someone who liked to play for a little while, and he imagined just what he could do with hair like that…

He suppressed another shiver.

A large Firewhiskey was presented to the person at the bar, and Scabior smiled as a pale hand slipped out from under the dark cloak – it was slim, and very feminine…

He stood and drained the last of his cider, before straightening his black drainpipes and dark blue velvet jacket and casually striding up to the bar.

The scent of strawberries washed over him as he sat down on the rickety stool next to the cloaked woman and caught the bar-hag's attention.

"What she's having – twice."

The bar-hag sneered and went off to grab a couple of glasses.

The woman slowly turned, a couple of curls slipping over her shoulder, and her face was finally revealed – and it actually was a woman.

Scabior gave an internal sigh of thanks…before his heart practically bolted from his chest.

Shit… Way out of my league…

She was pretty…but then again she was beyond pretty – she was pretty fucking beautiful, is what she was.

And hot.

Very, very hot.

Her nose was small, her eyes large and grey, and her lips were pouty and red, presumably from the cold outside – her features were soft, almost sweet, but so alluring in her slim face that Scabior's arousal instantly sparked.

He couldn't wait to see beneath her cloak, and even further than that – and he would, even if she was out of his league.

When he finally came around from his eyeing of her…he found her smiling at him sensually.

Somebody wants to play…

"What's your name?" She breathed – her eyes were darker than they had been when Scabior had first looked and her lips were parted sexily.

"Scabior," he smirked, leaning in to swipe a few curls away from her ear before pressing his lips to it. "And what's yours, pretty?"

"Call me, Nymph," she whispered back against his ear, and Scabior could feel her grin.

Suddenly, the Firewhiskeys before both of them meant nothing.

Scabior stood, throwing a few coins onto the bar, and spun 'Nymph' around. "You comin'?"

"Oh, I hope so," she murmured back flirtatiously, fluttering her dark eyelashes wickedly.

And that's all it took.

Tonks didn't know who he was or why she just needed him so badly…but she didn't care.

His eyes were bright blue and his hair was dark and very-nearly dreadlocked, his trousers were tight and his arse was firm…and she wanted him.

One look and she had been a goner.

His hands were large and they tugged her up a rickety staircase and through a couple of old, battered doors, and then soon she was stood before the fourth door on a long corridor – it opened and she was rushed inside.

Time stood still.

He was panting, but then so was she – there was an ache between her thighs that was growing, swirling, expanding, becoming more than an ache and sparking into a fire.

Without further thought, she tugged off her cloak and began ripping away at her robes.

His eyes lit up with hunger, and before Tonks knew it his hands were pulling off her robes instead of hers.

She tugged at his jacket, before realising her wand was still in her pocket – she charmed them both naked.

The stranger, Scabior, stood there and his eyes turned near-black as they roved over her bare, heaving chest and completely naked hips.

His hand shot out suddenly, grasping her thigh and yanking her towards him – his hips hit hers and Tonks cried out as his hard cock hit her so very wet pussy.

He pulled her thigh up higher, spreading her legs for him as he smirked darkly at her – the fire inside her erupted and twisted throughout her body.

No words were needed – his eyes told her he knew exactly what she wanted, and that was 'now and hard.'

Tonks' hands shot around his neck as his other hand gripped her other slim thigh and easily pulled them around his waist – his thick cock eagerly and obscenely bobbed and slapped against her dripping folds as they moved.

They stood there for a moment, chests heaving and hearts pounding against the other's.

Want you… Want you… Want you…

The words spun through her mind like a cyclone, scraping away every other single thought that Tonks had apart from being ravaged by the stranger – the lust and desire she felt even ripped away the suppressed thoughts about her newly-formed crush on Remus Lupin.

She only wanted the man holding her naked body against him.

And Tonks couldn't suppress her moan of pure pleasure as the very tip of his cock spread her soft lips – she sank down onto him with another moan…and then squeezed.

Internally.

Scabior gasped and growled, and Tonks found her heart skipping beats in happiness at being able to rob him of his words.

And then his hips moved…and the world realigned.

Stars appeared before her eyes as he rolled his hips against hers – their breathing harsh and heavy, mingling between them…and it urged her to crush her mouth to his.

His hands grasped her, fingertips digging into her soft skin, and she suddenly want to be marked.

Tonks ripped her mouth away from his, her tongue still covered in his taste. "Bite me."

He grinned and threw her onto the plain bed behind her – they disconnected and she bounced on the bed as he stood above her.

Her pussy ached for him.

She spread her legs wide, running a hand down her inner thigh until her fingers hit her wet entrance – she dipped them inside and then pulled them upwards, painting her body in swirls in her glistening juices.

"Bite me," she moaned. "Lick me. Now. Please…"

Scabior pounced, crawling up her body with wicked speed – his mouth was eager, urgent, as his teeth bit at her and his tongue lapped up the trail her fingers had left…before catching those fingers and taking them into his mouth.

Tonks threw her head back and cried out as he simultaneously captured her fingertips between his shining teeth and plunged his long cock back inside her burning depths.

She was an inferno, writhing and arching beneath the man that offered to fuel her fire and then quell it with his body.

He speared her, again and again, his skin slapping against hers harder and harder each time he drove into her.

He released her fingers from his mouth, only so she could bury them in his hair and he could roughly bite her crinkled, straining nipples.

Tonks cried out, and it turned into a yell when the hand of his that was not pinning her hips to the bed so he could drive into her more easily slipped down her body and then around…and down and…

She screamed again as his thumb dipped into her back entrance, pressing against the thin partition between that channel and her cock-filled pussy.

Scabior rubbed the skin, again and again, creating the most delicious pressure and–

Tonks came with an almighty scream.

She shuddered beneath his punishing body as his muscular thighs hit hers again and again…and then he was suddenly gone…and she was suddenly on her front.

As she panted for breath after her earth-shattering orgasm, a hand came under her hips and cupped her pussy – a finger slipped inside of her, a palm ground down on her aching clit, and a body loomed over her…

Suddenly, her hips were lifted up by the hand cupping her.

Tonks grasped the bedcovers in a claw-like grip, burying her face into the bed and grunting as a hot, firm tongue ran down her back and took over from the finger inside her pussy.

Her hips bucked backwards as the squirming muscle pushed into her, seeking out her deepest darkest depths.

Large, grasping hands gripped her buttocks and pulled so she was completely open to the attack from his tongue.

It was heaven, it was hell, and it was everything in between – every shade of grey she could imagine.

Tonks grunted every time Scabior's tongue pushed and she cried out every time his teeth ran over her clit…and then she gasped when a finger circled her other hole, before inexorably pushing in.

She came again, but this time her scream was silent – her mouth parted wide and her body stiffened as it was tongue and finger fucked into submission, and she could do nothing but feel spasms rock her body and her pussy grow even wetter.

The inferno was hot – hot, hot, hot…so hot…

But Scabior was hotter.

And when his tongue and fingers disappeared, and his front came down to seal itself to her back…she knew he was going to add to the fire even more.

His fingers circled her wrists and his thighs held hers in position, as his mouth came down on her exposed neck and bit hard – and then he was inside her once more.

Every grunt he gave made her grunt louder, and every gasp he echoed made her want to gasp again.

Pleasure spun through her body like a poison, and she could feel herself ready to come again – she climbed that hill, her body trembling as it came up to the cliff on the other side…

And then Scabior's hips gave one last slam, reaching some untouched place inside her pussy, and sent her careening over the edge and into the abyss.

She felt him twitch and throb within her and then that telltale warmth spread through her pussy.

His body dropped on top of hers, losing all his strength, and he panted roughly against her reddened neck.

"Fuck," she breathed, feeling her body pleasantly twitch around his softening cock and her muscles turn to jelly in exhaustion.

"Fuck," he agreed gruffly, his tongue lazily running up and down her neck.

And then something lifted.

It was like she'd been looking through a…haze, and now everything was much…clearer…

"Fuck," Tonks said again, but this time panic laced her tone.

Scabior lifted his head from her neck. "Fuck?"

"Fuck… Fuck… Fuck!" She cried, kicking him hard and rolling him off of her.

Tonks fell off of the bed and onto the wooden floorboards with a loud and painful-sounding thud.

She could feel wetness seeping from between her legs…

She looked up at the stranger in horror as he peered at her over the side of the bed in confusion, his hair mussed and his eyeliner fading.

Tonks felt her scalp tingle, and she knew her hair was changing rapidly – Scabior stared at the top of her head with a look of wonder on his face…and Tonks knew it was time to split.

She rapidly stood, summoningher clothes and casting a spell for them to wrap themselves around her body.

But it was as she tugged on her cloak and then charmed her shoes onto her feet, a hand came down on her shoulder – she turned to look at Scabior with wide eyes through her pink fringe.

"Who… What… Just… Just who are you and…what?" He stumbled over his words as he stood naked before her.

Tonks simply ran for the door. "I don't…know. Just… Bye!"

It was a pretty poor farewell considering what they'd just done, but all Tonks knew was that she had to get out of there and fast – why the hell had she acted the way she did?

She stumbled out onto Knockturn Alley and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place.

Scabior fell back on his messed up rented bed, pillows and covers scattered around him as he lay there spread like a martyr.

He'd never felt anything like that.

And he'd liked that pink curl she'd had…before her all her hair turned pink – but then he'd liked that as well, especially for the trick.

Who the hell was she?

As he laid there, his heart still thrumming from the most brilliant sex of his life, he resolved to find out.

Tonks stumbled through the door of the Black house, and found her ears immediately assaulted by loud voices – she was about to find her way up to her second-floor room, when an arm shot out and Severus Snape's face appeared before hers.

She gasped and took a step back. "Wha–?"

"Did you consume any of this?" He asked sternly, his black eyes flashing as he held up a bottle with familiarly-orange contents.

Tonks shook her head, thinking it best to deny, deny, deny when Snape looked at her that way – the way that said 'I hope you bloody well didn't.'

"Good," he sighed and strode off down to the kitchen.

Tonks followed, though she felt she was limping slightly – Merlin, she was sore, Scabior could really–

She quickly ignored the route her thoughts were taking and soon found herself in the kitchen and staring at a rather mussed-looking Mr and Mrs Weasley, a shame-faced Sirius, a glaring Snape, and a worried-looking Remus.

Remus' eyes flickered over her as she entered. "Severus says you didn't have any of the soup."

Tonks shook her head, but inside she felt a spark flicker within her as Remus' blue eyes pierced her – whatever had affected her earlier was clearly not affecting her crush on Remus.

If she wasn't so sore, she'd be feeling positively–

"No, I didn't. I came in here this morning and found everything burning. I sorted it and then left."

"Good. The burning probably covered up the Lust Potion vapours," Remus smiled, looking obviously relieved, before shooting a glare at his best friend and her cousin. "Sirius here decided it would be clever to win a Lust Potion off of Mundungus in a card game and then hide it in the spice rack. Molly made some soup, and…well, it was lucky that Severus came across it and identified it when he did."

Mrs Weasley blushed, smoothing down her still-messy hair…but Tonks took little notice – a Lust Potion?

Was that why–?

"Fortunately, no one has been given it," Remus smiled. "Severus informed us that when boiled down the potion is more difficult to identify – only its effects remain, and only when it is ingested. Fortunately, the potion being boiled meant that there had to be some kind of mutual attraction between the couple for the potion to truly work – even if it is for a limited time only."

"So, no mortal enemies getting off with each other or anything," Sirius grinned half-heartedly, trying to break the mood.

Tonks stared at her cousin – it was his fault she–?

"Are you quite alright, Tonks?" Remus asked kindly, coming to her side and looking down at her with soft eyes. "You look a little pale."

Oh, that's just because I had the best sex of my life with a complete and total stranger…

She bobbed her head. "Fine."

"We were worried. You left without a word this morning…and those potions can be tricky – if they aren't given to the receiver then they lust after the maker of the potion." Remus shot a glare at Sirius, "Sirius thinks that Mundungus got the potion off of someone in Knockturn Alley, and since that's where you were stationed today…"

Tonks swallowed hard and forced a smile. "I'm fine. Thanks for the worrying though."

Remus smiled and it almost shot straight to her heart, except at that moment there was a definite twinge between her legs – and it was not the good kind.

Tonks backed out of the kitchen. "I'm just going upstairs. I'll…see you all later for dinner."

And she Apparated upstairs to the bathroom for an immediate shower.

It was as she stood under the scalding hot water that something penetrated her clouded brain – '…the potion being boiled meant that there had to be some kind of mutual attraction between the couple for the potion to truly work…'

Was she attracted to that stranger, to Scabior?

Well, he was handsome…and muscled…and…

"No," she hissed to herself – it was a potion, a Lust Potion, and that was the end of it.

As she washed away what was left of their meeting, she resolved to avoid Knockturn Alley and him at all costs.

Author's note: