Summary: Tonks has an accident whilst cleaning at Grimmauld Place that lands her in St. Mungo's. All spells on her are reversed and she regains a terrible memory, one she'd have sooner left forgotten.

Disclaimer: I own neither Tonks nor Sirius, or any other Harry Potter characters that may be mentioned later on. I'm not making any money. Out of anything. :P

It was so silly. All this damned cleaning as Sirius calls it. Sirius. Sweet Merlin in Heaven.

I knocked over some cursed miniature fountain in a cabinet in the back of the sizeable Black library. The next thing I know I'm waking up in St. Mungo's, surrounded by curtains that I can just make out in the pale candle light from outside in the ward. I pull myself up slowly and grab for some water, my head pounding and my stomach churning wildly with the effort.

I discover over the next twelve hours that I've been suffering from a very nasty curse, lucky to survive, not to mention the torture of having to sit through my Mother repeatedly stating how she always knew my clumsiness would be the death of me, and what was that Weasley woman doing setting me cleaning work, and how I've just thrown her into the waiting arms of grey hair and wrinkles with how worried she's been.

Apparently, the best Healers have been working around the clock trying different treatments, for 3 weeks, and that eventually they've had to reverse every charm, jinx and curse that's ever been placed on me. This is supposed to be a very last resort as it can have very unpredictable and dangerous results. For instance, if you have had some unknown life saving spell performed on you that is not on your hospital records, this could potentially kill you. And even if this is not the case, the effect of so much magic vanishing from your body at the same time can cause heart failure. The jist of which is, I was in pretty bad shape.

Though thinking about it now, I'm not so sure I'm in such great shape now. Maybe I would have been better taking my chances with the coma.

It was on my first day of being discharged from St. Mungo's that it hit me.

I was in my part time room at Grimmauld Place pottering around, trying on different clothes and various exhauberant hair colours, when a rush of images blasted towards me, sounds blurring loudly in my ears making me feel dizzy and sick.

A man's body was pressing against me, someone had grunted my name whilst another whimpered and called out. A fire was crackling and hot and my stomach was churning and I'm very little and wearing a purple party dress I remember getting for my birthday once and then a lovely familiar smell warms my insides and I feel happy and ever so excited that I think I might be sick again and then there's stubble against my chin and cheek and my stomachs all tingling and then everything moves and I'm pressed against a kitchen counter and the edge is sticking hard into my back and I hurt and I'm frightened but excited slightly and I still feel sick and I can smell whiskey and sweat and then I can hear Sirius saying he promises and-

A sharp knock at the door brings me sharply conscious of my surroundings, and I realise that I have collapsed; perhaps rather loudly judging by Sirius' concerned voice behind the door. Sirius. I feel my insides move sharply.

Not a day has passed me by since I came home from St. Mungo's where I have not thought about Sirius. Where the mention of his name hasn't made my stomach fill with ice and lava simultaneously. Where the sight of him hasn't brought me out in a cold sweat and a blush and tingling at the pit of my stomach and the urge to be sick all at the same time. My head spins with a million conflicting thoughts swirling around my head, all trying to make themselves heard and their argument the most convincing.

What he did was wrong. But I can't for the life of me decide what I think about it. How I feel about it. And it's driving me insane. And he has no idea that I know.