"Did you hear me boy?"

Harry snapped out of his reverie. The sword was still trying to get him to kill the man standing in front of him. Then a quote from several years ago, from a Weasley of all people, popped into his mind. "Don't ever trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain," despite the absurdity of the statement at that time, it now had a place in the forefronts of Harry's mind. This led him to think of Riddle's diary. All color left his face when he realized that the sword in his hand and the diary he destroyed so many years ago was very much alike.

"Harry?" Tonks broke in. She had watched emotions pass onto and off of his face for a few minutes before it settled on one of them. While completely understandable in this situation, she knew that he had gone through too many things to be scared of his uncle. That was what worried her. When the color drained from his face she became worried, and then when she saw the look of abject horror on his face, she became frightened for him.

"Tonks, we should go up to my room now so that you can fix me up," Harry was almost pleading at this point.

"Didn't you hear me boy? You don't give any orders around this house do you got it?" his uncle laid one of his meaty palms on Harry's shoulders as he was turning. Before anyone else could move, Harry spun with the sword up and sliced off four of his uncles five fingers. For a while everyone just stared at what had happened, and then Tonks burst into action: stupefying all muggles present and repairing Vernon's hand so that it again looked and acted normal.

She then turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow. He looked to be in more shock than anyone else at the moment and for a while she wasn't even sure that he was breathing.

"Oh my god, what have I done?" Harry questioned himself more than anyone else. He hadn't even realized it, but he had given into the blades wishes, maybe not completely, but that could have been an accident because he was not very gifted with a sword or any blade for that matter.

Tonks noted the look of self-doubt on Harry's face and quickly moved to comfort him. "Ssh, its okay, everything's fine. No harm no foul they always say," Tonks whispered into his ear. When she went to hug him, she remembered that the muggles still needed to be taken care of. Turning back to them, she obliviated that particular memory replacing it with one of a nonchalant day when Harry returned, leaving in the threat from the order of the Phoenix. Turning to Harry she saw him wobble and he would have fallen if not for her quickly moving to catch him.

"Why don't we go get you cleaned up shall we?" she spoke. She proceeded to then head up the stairs and into Harry's room. What she saw shocked her almost as much as her entering to see a bleeding Harry. His room was tiny, barely large enough for the bed, if you could call it that, sitting in the corner of the room. Making her way to the bed, she realized that his room was very clean, almost obsessively for a teenage male. She made a mental note to ask him about that later. The moan of pain brought her back to the present time, and she laid Harry down onto his bed. She did a battlefield check for his injuries; he had a gash on the back of his head, along with a cut above his left eye and a broken shoulder that was swelling rapidly. Using what little knowledge of healing magic she had, Tonks did her best to fix Harry's injuries and relieve his pain. The release of tension in his muscles told her that she had done enough for now.

While he was resting, Tonks took a good look at the person lying in front of her. She took it all in, as much detail as she possibly could, and realized that he was handsome in his own way. The short, messy black hair that just covered up his famous scar, the glasses, the thin cheeks, which seemed to have sunk since last Christmas, and his lanky body. Then her eyes fell on the sword. Something she hadn't noticed before caught her attention. The blade had runes etched into the surface. They were in some archaic language that she couldn't even come close to identifying. Then something hit her, well didn't so much hit her as moved underneath her causing her to fall to the floor with a small squeal of surprise.

Harry, reacting on instinct, instantly brought his wand up on the unknown intruder, a curse on the tip of his tongue.

"Harry! Harry, calm down. It's only me alright?" Tonks moved to assuage his fears.

"Tonks, are you okay?" Harry was a little frightened that he might have hurt and angered her; after all, forgetting that a woman is in your house or sitting on your bed, especially sitting on your bed, is quite the insult, not to mention the fact that he almost cursed her a little while ago.

"I'll be fine if you stop pointing your wand at my face and I can stand up," she answered.

Harry quickly lowered his wand and ashamedly stood to help Tonks back up to her feet. Only, when he tried to lift with his left shoulder, pain shot throughout the entire arm and forced him to lie back down.

Tonks cursed her bad charms work and rose to help Harry with his arm. "Don't try that again okay lover boy?"

Though the room wasn't very well lit, Tonks could tell that Harry was blushing and cracked a smile. "One of the most popular teens in the entire history of the wizarding world can't be called a simple nickname without blushing? Why, that will just not do. We will have to take care of that together won't we Harry dear?" the jibes she tossed at him just deepened his blush causing her to break out in laughter at the sight of Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, blushing. Harry mumbled something about bloody women and then realized that he could return the favor.

"Well Tonks, it appears you get your way no matter what," he said.

Tonks was confused by this response and didn't like the look in his eyes but decided to ask anyway, "Why do you say that?"

Triumphantly, Harry returned fire, "Because this moment you got here you wanted to get in my room and it appears you've finally done it."

It was Tonks' turn to blush though inside she was quietly celebrating the fact that Harry was flirting with her, he may not realize it, but he was flirting nonetheless.

"Harry, my dear, with flattery like that, it's amazing that you don't have more women up here with you."

When Harry hung his head in defeat she smiled and thought to herself "Victory is mine"