A/N: Hello and welcome to the sixth part of my Seven Days of Christmas! Only one more after this one!

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Harry took a quick glance around, and when he ascertained that the residence was empty, he motioned quickly thereafter for Hermione to come in behind him. In an instant, she did so, closing the door and securing it, her wand a blur as she did her damndest to ensure they'd be left alone.

The place wasn't as dusty as he'd have thought, and unlike when last they visited, there was no shade of Dumbledore that'd form from dust and attempt to run them off. That'd been bloody mental when he'd seen it, but luckily, that was all. It did nothing should you not let it get into your mind.

"Harry," Hermione's voice was hushed, and when he looked at her, he saw that she was pointing to a robe hanging up.

It was feminine, furry, and dyed a darkish hue that certainly didn't seem all that natural. None of the details mattered all that much though, not when compared to what the presence of said robe meant; somebody was here, with them. A witch, by the look of it. Immediately, his mind went out to Bellatrix. She would know of the place, right?

At the mere thought of her, his hand went down to his wand. Just holding it brought him some degree of comfort, for it wasn't as if the witch could handle he and Hermione at the same time, even if Hermione's speciality wasn't combative magic. She was creative and more intelligent than most; he preferred that to raw power or viciousness.

Together, he mouthed.

Together, Hermione confirmed, her hand gripping his as she offered a hesitant smile.

With Ron having stormed off, it really was just the pair of them left. Hermione had taken that quite hard, but they were friends, and they were still together; so long as they were together, they could do anything, and that'd been proven thus far, hadn't it?

They were moving through one of the many halls of Grimmauld place, the lack of warmth and noise strange, unnatural, but still they continued. The halls of a creepy, nostalgic home were far better than that of a tent; at least the building could stay well and truly warm, and offer up some degree of protection.

That was something the tent didn't have in any capacity, that being a sense of security. Had it such a sense, the two wouldn't have risked going to Grimmauld place… but Merlin, they wanted to be warm, and secure, and safe.

Here, they could be just that, if only for a da—

In the midst of his thoughts, a sudden and loud noise came from one of the rooms nearby; the parlour room, if he wasn't mistaken. Somebody had used the Floo connection, and when he heard humming, feminine humming, he reckoned it was the person that'd taken up residency herein. Thus, he exchanged a look with Hermione before shortly thereafter whipping out his wand.

With it raised and Hermione right behind him, Harry sought out the source of the noise. His feet carried him past two rooms — which he glanced into whilst passing them — and left him standing right beside the entrance to the parlour room. The noise upon him reaching such a spot was louder still, and then there was a thud, and a second thud thereafter.

Harry hadn't a clue as to what it was, but it didn't sound like the person falling or what have you. If anything, it was almost like they'd thrown something small, but heavy. He took in a breath, reaffirmed his grip over his wand and after shooting a look over his shoulder to confirm Hermione was just as ready, he pushed into the room.

There was, perhaps, a small bit of spellfire, but it stopped once the pair saw who they'd caught by surprise.

It wasn't remotely who they'd been expecting.

"Tonks?" he paused, looking at her with a narrow-eyed gaze. "When was the first time we me—"

"Your family's home. I was flirting with you — Moody was proper mad afterwards, you know," Tonks set down her wand and looked betwixt the pair. "I wasn't expecting company."

Hermione stowed her wand a second or so before Harry did. "Well, then. I'll be off to have a wash," she sounded relieved, but stressed as ever. Merlin, did he wish there was something he could do for her. "We won't need to coordinate a night's watch for a change. Sleep in, Harry. Won't you?"

She didn't give him time to answer before she was off, leaving him with Tonks.

When she flashed a bottle, he flashed a grin.

Nearly an hour later with the clock clacking away, Harry found himself with a buzz as he sat beside Tonks. It was Christmas, or thereabout based on what he saw, and here he was drinking it away before a fireplace with her.

"Happy Christmas."

Lazily, she rolled her head, her hair shifting to a pinkish hue as she caught his eyes with her own before it returned to its natural hue. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she pushed in close beside him, her breath not reeking of alcohol half as much as he expected.

The next thing he didn't expect to happen was her kissing him. Her lips were forceful, rough, and wanton — different from any kiss he'd ever had before, and certainly far less sad then the one he'd shared with Cho.

She separated a few seconds later, her hair flickering pink as she rested her forehead against his. "I hope you didn't mind my Christmas gift. There wasn't anything else to give."

Harry swallowed, his left hand brushing her leg before it settled on his lips; even now, he still tasted the drink and a vague fruitiness from what she must have eaten earlier.

"I didn't mind." Merlin, he must've sounded dumb as he looked at her like a fish out of water.

Tonks grinned at him. "Good," she pushed him down, her gaze predatory as she stalked across his body until their faces were near as they'd been before. "Why don't I give you an early new year's as well."

And then her face neared his once more; this time, he met her halfway.