It's been nearly a month since I've seen Tonks; we've been talking a lot through a communication mirror I gave her, but life's too hectic too actually go anywhere. She started work again, and practices have been doubled – we've got a big match with the Prides coming up, and good old Captain Fife has decided we all need to learn some new moves. Oliver agrees with him, of course, and to be honest so do I, but it's really getting on my nerves. Usually I don't mind bringing home a Puddlemere fan or two, but now...it just feels strange, doing that and being pissed that I haven't seen Tonks in a while. The fact that I haven't had sex in nearly three weeks is pissing me off even more, though, so I think I'm going to have to go hit Leviose pretty soon.

-------------

"So, sound goods, right? You in?"

Simon sat in a corner booth at the Hog's Head, sipping a firewhiskey. The table in front of him was covered in empty glasses, two of which were his, and was almost as dingy as the three people he was sharing the booth with. He set his glass down on the table and squinted at the blueprint on the seat between him and a young man who smelled even more of smoke than the rest of the bar did.

"There's more fireplaces than this, I'm sure of it. At least 26." Simon tapped a large rectangle on the paper.

The greasy-haired woman who had spoken to him before frowned at him and held her hand out for the print. "Other than that, you in?"

Simon rolled it up and handed it to her. "Yeah, but you've gotta get that right. The Ministry's a big break. I can give you maybe an hour, maybe a little more, but only if you've told me about every single entrance ahead of-" He paused, drink halfway to his lips, and stared out a grimy window. It was dark, and they were at the other end of the block, but Simon would swear he saw Tonks and Jon standing in an alleyway. They both looked furious. "What the hell..."

"What?" the woman twisted around, trying to see what he was looking at. "Aurors?"

"No, it's nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know." He drained the firewhiskey. "Look, just get that checked out. Your Ministry contact still good?" The woman nodded, brows furrowed. "Fine. Send me an owl when you've got an entrance count. I'll be in London. Take care."

Simon stood up, tossing a few Sickles on the table to pay for his drinks, and walked out quickly. He could almost feel the suspicious gazes of his 'partners in crime' boring into his back. Making such a rapid exit was anything but normal for Simon. Hope I haven't blown my cover.

Jon and Tonks were still in the alley. Simon started jogging towards them. He could hear the pair yelling at each other from all the way down the block, and was grateful there weren't a whole lot of people around.

"What d'you mean by commitment, exactly? Making sure I stay inside and clean while you go out partying and come back drunk, horny, and violent? You're such an asshole, Jon! A lying, sexist, pathetic, obsessive, narcissistic, psychotic, spineless ass-"

After spending so much time with the scum of the earth there was no way Simon could miss the sound of strong fists slamming into a victim's body as it drifted down the street. Furious, Simon broke into a sprint, skidding to a stop just in time to catch Tonks as she fell away from the brick wall she'd been pinned against. Her jacket was lying ripped on the ground. There wasn't any blood visible, but she felt much, much too limp in his arms.

"Tonks..." Simon lowered his friend gently to the ground, and rounded on her attacker, furious.

Jon gazed, calm and coldly satisfied, at Tonks. Simon swung an angry fist at him. Jon started to laugh and disapparated just before Simon's fist made contact with his jaw. Simon howled in rage, frustration, and pain as his knuckles instead rammed into the alley wall.

--------

The first thing she noticed was that she was sweating more than she had for years. The second was that she couldn't sit up. Trying to remember where she was, Tonks groaned. She had been fighting with Jon...he had hit her...no wonder she felt so sore. She was probably still lying in the alley. But why the hell was she so hot? And why did the ground feel so soft?

She opened her eyes, then closed them again, confused and a little panicky. She was not, in fact, in the alley. She was in an extremely large bed with a black canopy. Under a foot or so of very heavy blankets. And she had no idea whose they were.

"Tonks?" Somewhere to her right, Jen was calling to her softly. But Jen doesn't have a bed like this... "I think she's still asleep, Harry. I promise I'll tell you when she wakes up."

Oh. Harry.

"No, wait." She opened her eyes again, and struggled to sit up. "It's okay. I'm awake."

Jen poked her head into the room, looking surprised. Harry pushed past her, settled himself on the side of the bed, and busied himself pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. Tonks stretched to accept it – it was a very large bed, and Harry was on the far side of it – and winced as pain shot through her ribs. Jon had beaten her up pretty badly.

"What happened?" Jen was sitting on the side closer to her, looking worried. "Simon tried to tell us, but he was pretty out of it."

"What? Jon didn't go after him too, did he? And where am I, exactly?"

"Grimmauld Place. The second floor guest room."

"Oh." She looked at her surroundings more carefully. The layout of the room did seem familiar, after a minute or so. She hadn't spent much time in this room before – it had been much too gloomy for her taste. Now, though, it was a nice room, decorated in black and white. "You've done a nice job redecorating."

"Thank Hermione. She took this place over for a few months after Sirius...after I inherited it."

At this point Simon walked in, wearing a bathrobe. Tonks quickly looked him over. He didn't seem to be hurt, just tired.

"Simon, Jon didn't go after you, did he?"

"No." He plopped into a large leather armchair, took a soda out of the pocket of his robe, and popped it open.

"Then why were you so 'out of it'?"

"You're heavy. I had to carry you around until someone let me use their fireplace. You can thank me later." He took a long gulp. "This stuff is great, Harry."

Harry looked amused. "Growing up with Muggles has its benefits. Soda is one of them. I can't believe wizards don't have it."

"Hey, you know what we could do? Start up a wizard soda company. I'll bet you could make big mon-"

"Alright, that's it." Jen grabbed Simon by the bathrobe belt, hauled him soda and all out of the chair, walked over to Harry, grabbed him by the shirt, and hauled him off the bed. "I'm trying to get the story out of her, and not waste her energy on stupid conversations, and you two are both being very stupid." She dragged them to the door, pushed them out, and shut it. "Stay out there until I tell you that you can come back."

"Aw, they can't help it, Jen. They're stupid by nature. It's the testosterone," contributed Tonks, who was lying down again.

"I heard that!" Harry's voice was muffled, but clear enough. Tonks and Jen giggled. Jen plopped down into the chair Simon had been sitting in. Tonks observed that she used almost exactly the same motion that her boyfriend had.

"So what happened?" All the humor was gone from Jen's eyes. Tonks sighed.

"I was doing some shopping. Jon, apparently, was doing some drinking. We ran into each other on the street, he called me a slut. It was all downhill from there. I called him an asshole-"

"No, you called him a lying, sexist, pathetic, obsessive, narcissistic, psychotic, spineless asshole. There's a difference," pointed out Simon from the hallway. It seemed that he and Harry were sitting outside the door so they could put in their two cents.

Jen chuckled. "Did you really?"

"Yeah. So he ripped off my jacket-"

"Your jacket? Why?"

"I keep my wand in it. And I'm a useless hand-to-hand fighter. So I was pretty much powerless. He pummeled me, and then Simon was there, and I passed out. I'm surprised I'm not feeling worse, actually. You did that, I suppose?" Jen nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem." Jen's tone was much more casual than her look was. "I'm going to get that bastard," she said quietly.

On the other side of the door, Harry snorted. "Not if I get him first!"

"I am impressed by the strength of your regard, both of you. All three of you, actually. And now, I really...need to go ...back ..." Tonks yawned. All of a sudden, she was incredibly sleepy. Jen's 'goodnight' fell on deaf ears – Tonks had already fallen asleep.

--------

Harry walked into his study slowly. It was his favorite room in the house – except for, on occasion, his bedroom – and anyone who knew him would be able to see why. Like all of Grimmauld place, it was nicely decorated, and held objects both magical and Muggle. A computer hummed quietly in a corner opposite from a large display case containing all sorts of dark detectors. Bookshelves lined the walls, and held some of Harry's favorites – Quidditch Through The Ages, The Hobbit, Restaurant at the End of the Universe, and of course Hogwarts, A History, which had proven to be very interesting once Hermione actually got him to read it.

But tonight, none of these things held very much interest to Harry. Instead, he walked to the far wall, where a few rows of small, ornately framed mirrors were hanging. He gazed moodily at an unframed one near the bottom for a moment, then shook his head sadly.

"Bet you'd be able to help me out with this." Harry sighed, and touched the black metal frame of one of the other mirrors. "Vince." The mirror darkened, then lightened again as Vince took his own mirror out of his pocket, and finally Harry was looking at the face of his bodyguard.

"Yes Harry?"

"Where are you? Anything yet?"

"I'm at the Ministry. Kingsley's giving me some help-"

Harry smiled. "Tell him I say hi."

"Will do. He's looking up Lenning's file at the moment, but when he gets back I should be able to figure out where to look for him." Vince paused, looking worried. "Are you planning on going anywhere today?"

"Probably not. If I do, I won't go anywhere crowded, dark, or likely to attract female Quidditch fans." Vince smiled. "But it doesn't matter where I go, it matters where you go. Keep me briefed, all right?"

"Of course."

The mirror went dark. Harry took it off the wall and slipped it into his pocket.