"Wotcher Harry. How you doing?" asked the smiling form of Nymphadora Tonks or Tonks as she likes to be called.

To say that Harry was struck dumb would be a bit of an understatement. Harry had momentarily lost anything remotely close to a thought.

Tonks snapped him out of it by bringing attention to his wounded shoulder, his left that is.

"Harry, you're bleeding!" Tonks was shocked. How could the boy wonder, and the boy/man of her dreams, be bleeding. Oh sure she knew about the other times like when he saved the sorcerers stone, or bit by the basilisk, or… wow, the list just goes on and on doesn't it.

Harry, not thinking at all at this moment, just turned to look at his shoulder…and brought the mysterious sword into Tonks view.

Tonks' jaw dropped. She hadn't seen a sword that beautiful in… come to think of it ever. Besides the fact that she could literally feel the swords power radiating off of it, which made her wonder why she hadn't noticed it before, she could just tell that it… there was no other word for it, perfect. The way the hilt just seemed to become the crossguard and then the blade made her wonder who could craft such a beautiful thing. Momentarily forgetting about the bleeding young man in front of her she didn't realize that he had just slumped against the door frame until he nearly fell on top of her.

"Whoah there boy-o! Maybe we should get you somewhere safe so that we can deal present problems and then move onto "other" matters," she said.

Harry mumbled something about the last door up stairs and she realized he was talking about his bedroom. With a great heave on her part, Tonks lifted Harry onto one of her shoulders, despite being the same height as her he weighed very little and Tonks wondered about his eating habits.

As she was walking towards the stairs, she was grabbed from behind and spun around, barely managing to keep her balance and hold Harry up at the same time.

"Who are you to come into MY house uninvited and presume that that boy be treated for his injuries!" Tonks watched the fat man, she thought he was Harry's uncle, practically scream at her.

She then realized who had done this to Harry. With an awestruck expression, she whispered to Vernon, yes that was his name, "How could you do this to your own flesh and blood? How could you do this to Harry?" She was incredulous. How could anyone that knew who Harry was, treat him like such an underling to be beaten whenever they did something wrong.

While Vernon was confused about the response he received, he paid it no mind telling this freak, "I will do whatever I deem necessary to my own flesh and blood, speaking of which, give him back to me, I haven't finished from before!"

Quickly realizing that this was an overly aggressive muggle, Tonks anger flared up. "How dare you demand that I return Harry Potter, your nephew, to you so that you can finish his beating. You make me sick, you fat piece of shit!" Tonks spat at Vernon.

This was the final straw for Uncle Vernon, he drew back his hand and smacked Tonks across the face. Already unstable, Tonks fell to the floor with Harry on top of her.

"I will not be insulted in my own house by the likes of you, wench!"

Waking from the fall to the ground yet again, Harry surmised what had happened. His anger roared to life when he realized that his uncle had not only insulted Tonks, he had also attacked her in cold blood. Harry rose with speed he didn't know that he had and held the magnificent sword to his uncle's throat before another word could be said.

"Apologize, uncle." Harry practically spat at his uncle.

Vernon was about to reprimand his nephew with a few choice words when he noticed his eyes. Those eyes were not what they had been a short year ago, no, these eyes were not of a child, but of a man. While he was wondering what could have caused such a change, he noticed something else. Harry's eyes were not their normal green, they were a much darker green than just seconds before. Now Vernon was well and truly mystified, what could have caused all these things.

His thoughts were violently interrupted when Harry prodded him with his sword.

Feeling the blood drip down his neck he made a quick and insincere apology and Harry let go of a breath that he hadn't that he had been holding. Turning to Tonks, he offered her a hand up. What he saw shocked him. Tonks was staring at him with badly disguised awe in her eyes. Before Harry could