CHAPTER 1







Darkness.

The darkness of an unconscious mind, struggling to break the bonds that held it. Not dead yet…no, not quite yet…

The young woman did not move, did not speak, still unable to throw off this inner obscurity entirely. However, in the midst of this murky place between waking and death, and wafting through the occasional nightmares that slipped through her thoughts when she was on the verge of regaining consciousness, came a scent that, even in her comatose state, brought a slight, curving smile to her pale face. It was that of warm tea with honey, a flannel blanket, autumn leaves, and…

Chocolate.



~*~



The thought of breathing hurt.

That was the very first thing that entered her mind as Nymphadora Tonks entered the conscious world for the first time in a week. The black, opaque fog that had wholly obscured her for nearly seven days slowly slipped away, leaving in its place shades of dull gray and bemused pricks of light.

What happened?

Behind her eyelids, her eyes moved back and forth, instinctively glancing around for an enemy. That was what the life of an Auror could do to you. Fighting back the pain that accompanied this mundane action, Tonks managed to ascertain, through more use of her senses than anything else, that she was in an unfamiliar dim room. On the whole, it smelled of clean — a hospital. Overlying that wholesome scent was the delicate fragrance of chocolate and autumn and comfort.

Remus had been here.

And there was someone beside her. She could feel the warm presence at her bedside. Him?

Tonks tried to form the simple word, "Remus," but her numb lips would not comply. All she managed to do was twitch her mouth a bit and make a soft noise at the back of her throat.

A hand covered hers, a large, slim, long-fingered hand, the touch as soft as the fuzz on a blanket. An artist's hand. A poet's hand. A beautiful hand.

"Shh, Tonks, it's me. It's Remus."

She sighed, smiling in her mind. Remus.

"My God, Tonks," he cursed in a whisper, his voice even more ragged and hoarse than usual. A drop of water landed on her wrist. "You've scared us all so much."

"I'm sorry," she thought with all her strength, managing to produce no more than a pathetic squeak. She stirred slightly with frustration.

"Don't fight it," Remus encouraged, his voice a little steadier. "They've put a lot of heavy healing charms on you, you're bound to be exhausted."

Sleep…The waves of exhaustion ebbed and flowed in her mind.

"Go to sleep, if you can. But wake up. Always remember to wake up."

Wake up…

Sleep…

Wake up…

Sleep…sleep…



~*~



She slept for two more days, she was informed later.

Such strange dreams she had while asleep. She dreamed of beaches bathed by the light of the full moon while she plunged, fully clothed, into the water…of dark forests where yellow eyes glared as she ran past, trying to escape the snarling wolf behind her…of sinking into a bed of heat, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like Remus…

Her eyes snapped open.

Light assuaged her mercilessly, beaming harshly into the eyes of one asleep for virtually nine days. Tonks winced and screwed up her eyes, tears leaking from the crevices at the corners. "Good Lord, turn it off," she muttered, her voice weak from disuse.

"Tonks?"

Not Remus. A woman's voice.

"Molly?" Tonks whispered hopefully.

"Oh, Tonks!"

Molly all but fell on top of her, weeping uncontrollably. Tonks patted her back gently, crying silently in sympathy, half-numb and frozen emotionally for some unfathomable reason. A sense of foreboding stole over her.

Molly sat back, cupping Tonks's face in both hands and trying to smile through teary eyes. "You have no idea how worried we were."

"How long was I out?" Tonks asked, incredulous that she'd managed to inspire this much concern.

"Nine days," Molly replied. "You were in a coma for a week, and slept for two more days."

"A week!" Tonks gasped, running her fingers through her limp hair. What did that witch do to me?

"Yes." Molly's face suddenly turned cautious. "Now, Tonks, before you start asking any questions, just know that Remus is waiting outside, and…and…well, I just think he's more capable of answering than I am, since I wasn't there, and…well…events…" Her face crumpled once more. Tonks's ominous feelings increased.

But Remus! "Oh, send him in!" she croaked brightly, a grin spreading across her features.

Molly patted her shoulder kindly, though all traces of joy had fled her face for something infinitely more disturbing: nearly devastation. Tonks attributed it to her own drowsiness and Molly's stress, coupled with any minor mishap that could have happened at the Department of Mysteries.

We had them all in control, she thought confidently as Molly exited the room. I doubt that anyone got really hurt, except for me. But that's only to be expected, I'm the youngest member, unless you count those Weasley rascals and Harry. Yes, I'll bet Remus just…just…

But here her hopeful imagination failed her. She'd been trying to negate those senses that portended ill, and couldn't.

All her thoughts disappeared, however, when Remus walked in the door. Tonks felt a now-familiar twinge in the pit of her stomach and was ashamed to feel her cheeks heat up at the mere sight of him. Like a child with a crush, she lowered her eyes shyly and bit her lip as he approached, only to peep at him through her lashes and grin foolishly. It took a moment to remember how she was supposed to act around him: natural.

"It's wonderful to see you up and alert," Remus said without preamble, sitting down beside her. Once again, Tonks was forced to admire his almost animalistic grace as he folded his long legs and sank down lightly.

"Wotcher, Remus," she greeted him, happy to find her voice in decent working order again. "I've really been out that long?"

His face went carefully blank. "The nurse told us you'd wake up after three days. When a week had passed, even they began to worry. Dumbledore told the students involved that you'd survive, but…" Remus shrugged expressively. "He said that he's made mistakes in the past, large ones." Then he hesitated, studying her face earnestly, as if trying to find something lost. "Tonks…you're feeling all right?"

Tonks gave a noncommittal jerk of her head. "Loads better, anyway. Not sure if I can walk, but still, that'll come in time, eh?" She grinned at him cheekily.

Remus nodded but did not appear to be listening. "And…you don't remember anything?"

Tonks frowned at the bedspread, deep in thought. "Nothing after a flash of dark blue, and…the sensation of absolutely roaring down a tunnel." She lifted her gaze to Remus searchingly. "What did she do to me?"

Remus sighed heavily, his tawny eyes troubled. "Somehow, the Death Eaters have found a way to turn the Draught of Living Death into a spell. Facie Mortis, they call it. It reduces the victim to a state of permanent comatose. Only the highest skill can undo it. They told us it could be done by a team of experienced Healers…but there were times…"

Tonks quirked her mouth. "Right, well, I hope someone gave Bellatrix a serious beating in my stead."

She'd meant to be light-hearted, but, almost unconsciously, Remus's face fell. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, Tonks…"

Tonks swore with as much vigor as she could muster. She had known, inside, that something wasn't right. "What'd she do? Who'd she hurt? What happened, Remus?"

He finally looked up at her, his tawny eyes brighter than usual. "It's Sirius," he said quietly.

Tonks's heart thudded madly, making it even more difficult to breathe. "Where is he? Can I see him?" she pleaded. "He's going to make it, right? He's fine? Tell me he's all right, Remus."

Remus shook his head slowly, closing his eyes against the pain threatening to spill over.

"He's dead, Tonks. She killed him."



~*~



The room was once again dark. Tonks sat frozen, hugging her knees to her chest and staring blindly at a spot on her sheets, trying to absorb the news. Four hours later, it still didn't make sense. She could only exist in this numb stasis, repeating the words in her mind and not once comprehending them.

Outside her door, people were talking.

"She's not seeing anyone?" The deep voice was Kingsley.

"I'm afraid not," answered Molly. "Oh, dear, we shouldn't have sprung it on her like that."

"She had to find out; better she heard it from Lupin," Moody barked gruffly.

"Better she didn't have to hear it at all," Arthur Weasley corrected soberly.

Tonks buried her face in her arms, her face contorting in pain. If she hadn't fallen…if she had been stronger…

"How is she?" This was Remus's voice. He'd left her alone after he told her. Tonks instinctively curled up tighter.

"She won't see anyone," Molly told him anxiously. "She won't answer us, and what's more, she locked herself in. We don't…we can't…it wouldn't be right…"

"It would be worse to leave her on her own right now," Remus contradicted gently but firmly. "I left her to let her absorb it. At this point, though, she's probably beating herself up about it." He knocked on the door. "Tonks?"

She wavered, torn between the two equally appealing options of being alone in her misery and seeing Remus again.

Again, the tap on her door. "Please, Tonks. I could magic this door open, but I want this to be your choice."

She lost. In the face of the man she was steadily falling in love with, Tonks caved.

"Alohamora," she muttered resentfully. The heavy door swung open into the silence.

"Oh, Tonks…"

Refusing to lift her head, Tonks listened to Remus pad across the floor in his light tread to stop by her bedside. He didn't sit, but stood above her. Tonks knew that he was gazing at her compassionately with those sad tawny eyes.

The silence stretched on.

Finally, she gained the courage to raise her tearstained face. "My fault," she whispered, her voice cracking and breaking.

Suddenly, he was beside her, his arms coaxing her into their circle. "No," he murmured in her ear. "It wasn't."

Tonks surrendered. She clung to him and sobbed into his shoulder as he rubbed her back soothingly. The words of comfort and reassurance he spoke meant absolutely nothing; it was the motion, the action of it.

The anguished young woman cried her heart out to him, and as she did, her already affectionate heart melted into love.



~*~



Three days passed.

Tonks moved like a ghost through the halls of St. Mungo's when she was allowed out of bed, barely eating, rarely speaking much to anyone. The nurses worried about some shock to her head in the battle, but Tonks knew it didn't go quite that deep. It was sorrow, the loss of a cousin whom she'd met hastily and was snatched away not a year later.

The only thing that lifted her spirits was the regular sight of Remus. He never failed to visit her, if only to sit in silence and watch her cry. With his guidance, the wound was not quite as raw as it could have been otherwise.

She loved him.

A crush! In the privacy of her hospital room as she anxiously awaited his coming, Tonks snorted derisively. No, this was love, heart-wrenching and agonizing, for a man who would probably never allow himself to love her back.

Knock.

A beam spread across her face before she could stop it. "Come in, Remus," she said, capping the bottle of Lulu's Color-Changing Nail Varnish she had been painting her nails with.

The man poked his head around the door, smiling with true regard. Tonks could never figure out exactly how he felt about her. "Afternoon, Nymphadora."

Tonks winced. "Remus…"

"If you're allowed to call me by my first name, I can call you by yours. It's fair," he teased lightly, loping into the room and all but collapsing into the chair by her bed.

She smiled, pleased – she considered this to be flirting, even if he didn't intend it to be – but stopped when she noticed the exhaustion and badly masked distress written into the lines of his face. "Remus, what's the matter?" she asked nervously. "What happened?"

He glanced up, saw her expression, and again smiled reassuringly, albeit briefly. "What? Oh, nothing important."

Tonks folded her arms stubbornly. "It's not nothing that makes you look like that. If you're worried about my 'feeble condition'" – Tonks made exaggerated quotation marks in the air with her fingers – "don't be. I'm perfectly fine. I'm certainly not as upset anymore."

"That's good to hear," he replied seriously. "As to the nothing…it's not about the whole Order, so don't bother yourself about that. I'm just rather less than satisfied with my assignment. Werewolf colonies," he clarified at Tonks's questioning look. "I have to infiltrate the one led by Fenrir Greyback and act as spy while pretending my allegiance." His face had turned bleak. "Unfortunately, I'm perfect for the job."

"Oh, Remus…" Hoping to return some of the comfort he had been showing her, Tonks laid her hand over his, squeezing lightly in an effort to cheer him up. "I'm awfully sorry. Still, think of what it will do for the Order, eh?" She laughed a little to cover up the sudden retreat of her hand as she lost her nerve.

"I keep trying to tell myself that. And speaking of the Order, there's an assignment in a few days that I thought might interest you. It would be a chance for you to get out of here."

"Oh?" Tonks sat to attention with interest.

"Term ends for Hogwarts in five days, and Dumbledore wants a few of us to escort Harry and have a, er, talk with his relatives. Negotiate, if you will."

"Friendly negotiations?" Tonks asked, grinning and arching one eyebrow.

Remus smiled back wryly. "Most decidedly not, especially if Alastor has anything to do with it. Are you well enough to come?"

"I'd love to!" Tonks bubbled, thrilled at the prospect of escaping St. Mungo's. "It'll be nice to get out and see everyone."

"And if you want, you could come back to Kingsley's and my apartment for some dinner afterwards."

Tonks's heart nearly jerked to a heart, then shakily started thudding again. "D-dinner?"

"Yes. Kingsley and I will be there, possibly Hestia and Alastor as well. Something small, nothing fancy."

"Oh." Her heart picked up the pace, like a racehorse putting on a surge of speed. "Well…yeah, that'd be – I mean – thanks, Remus!" she finished, hoping the absurd joy that danced inside her wasn't showing on her features.

"Don't mention it." He checked his watch and swore mildly. "I forgot I was supposed to stop in briefly to see Dumbledore about something. You don't mind if I go, do you?"

Yes! As a matter of fact, I do. I'd like you to stay by my bed…or crawl into my bed, whichever…

Tonks abruptly halted this train of thoughts, which was also starting to include satin sheets and chocolates, to smile nonchalantly. "Go ahead," she squeaked.

Remus stood and offered her one last smile and a hand squeeze before backing away. "I'll come for you in five days, if that's all right? Things are going to be a little busy until then." With that, he was gone.

Tonks sighed in her solitude. Five days couldn't pass soon enough.



~*~



"Well, that's over and done with."

Tonks wrinkled her nose at Moody's gruff way of terming it, but couldn't help but agree as she watched Harry slump off after his despicable relatives. The scene was almost heartbreaking. With a sigh, Tonks turned away, seeking refuge by Remus's shoulder.

He glanced down at her, brow slightly knit. "You're feeling all right?"

Tonks pinked at his solicitude. He and the other Order members commissioned to haunt platform nine and three-quarters had come for her just that morning, then gone straight to the station. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine."

"Still up for dinner?" Remus bantered lightly.

"You couldn't keep me away," Tonks grinned.

They walked slowly towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten, more out of habit than any real purpose. "That was sad back there, with Harry, wasn't it?" Remus commented absently, his eyes fixed on a point that Tonks couldn't discern.

"Mmm," she agreed. "It was like…this could've been a better summer for him, now that the truth is out. If Sirius could have been around, Harry would be happier than I bet he's ever been." She sighed. "All we can do is move on, I guess."

Remus surveyed her carefully, a warm light in his eyes. "You know, Tonks, I'm very proud of the way you've borne up." He chuckled. "It's good to know I have a strong family to support me in these times."

If a fist had punched her in the gut, Tonks could not feel more sick or breathless. The world spun in a mad whirl.

"Family?" she whispered.

Suddenly, Remus wouldn't meet her eyes; he smiled at the ground, eyes shadowed. "Tonks, you're like a sister to me."

"Oh. Of course."

"Tonks, what's the matter?" Remus asked when he was forced to steady her as she swayed dangerously.

"Nothing!" she gasped, snatching out of his grasp and trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "I just — oh, Remus, I think I'm sicker than I thought," she told him desperately, melding the truth with white lies.

His gaze was troubled, lingering on the tear rolling down her cheek. "Go home, Tonks," he said softly. "Get some more rest."

Her trembling smile could not be in the least reassuring. "Have a good night, Remus," she half-sobbed, and stumbled towards the nearest dark corner she could find, his eyes burning her back.



~*~



Tonks Apparated into the solitude of her flat with a loud wail of despair. Unbalanced and weak from suppressed sobs, she crashed into her couch and toppled onto it like a rag doll, curling up into an instinctive fetal position.

A strong family…Tonks, you're like a sister to me…

"No," she moaned into a pillow, choking on tears. "Please, don't let it be true…" She gulped, then cried all the harder, pounding on the arm of the couch because the truth was unmistakable. She had known it all along, hadn't she? That the only dreams that came true for people were their nightmares.

"And they all think I'm better," Tonks gasped into the crook of her elbow, "that I'm healthy and not grieving. I have blame this on Sirius. I'll blame it on fake repressed grief. But I'm sure as hell not letting them know what a bloody, sodding fool I've been!"

After pouring out her misery for another half-hour, Tonks raised her head and met her own eyes in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall.

A pale, tragic face stared back. Dark, red-rimmed eyes peered out of hollow sockets. Her cheeks were stained with tears.

Capping the image was a limp pixie-cut of dull brown hair, vestiges of the old pink still visibly fading into the roots. The sight caused tears to flow afresh.

"It suits me," she whispered into the unmerciful darkness. Outside, the wind murmured quietly. A single, mocking star shone through her window, dancing next to the waxing gibbous moon. For anyone else, it was a picturesque scene, the perfect time for a joyful romance.

But that night, one heartbroken young woman cried herself to sleep, all alone in a never-ending darkness.