Endings

"What hurts the most was being so close, and having so much to say, and watching you walk away. And never knowing what could have been. And not seeing that loving you Is what I was trying to do…"

-Rascal Flatts

-What Hurts The Most

That night was a night of endings. No one knew how it would end, only that it would, it must; after tonight, there would be no more running.

It was late, after midnight, when the battle finally broke. That is, if you didn't believe that there had been a battle all along. For weeks, for months, for years, fear had been apart of every moment, every breath. At least, that was the price of knowledge. And Nymphadora Tonks Lupin paid it as much as anyone.

In the great hall, there was utter chaos. Electric tentacles of light stretched across the obsidian sky, bathing a crowd that was scurrying like a hill of ants, in an unearthly glow. No one sat at the head table, and the house tables were put away. Everywhere, figures ran for cover, and ran to fight. Everywhere, you saw friends with lightning in their eyes.

It was in the midst of this insanity that Tonks stood, pushing her way through the tail end of panicked younger students and now preparing allies, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. Growing frustrated at her inability to move, but unable to stop and think about it thanks to the tremulous noise, Tonks weaved her way towards what she hoped was the north tower.

Fifteen minutes ago, she and Remus had been given their assignments. Ten, and it had all fallen apart. Five, and they had been separated. She could only pray that she'd find him soon, preferably without a death eater showering him in bright green sparks.

For the time being, she had no choice but to find a position and defend it. The dark lord and his followers would breach the barrier any minute, she could only suppose, at which time they would be overwhelmed with the concourses of black demons assailing them. She had to get to the north tower. She had to protect the people she loved.

Another few minutes, and she made the door. By this time, the hall was somewhat cleared out; most of the younger students were heading down the long tunnel to Hogsmeade and safety, though she could still hear small voices calling out above the scuffle, seeking frantically for their friends. Had it really been so many years ago? So much had happened since she'd left Hogwarts, and yet, she still remembered when the small voice had been hers. When her fears consisted of nothing more than fleeting nightmares. She turned back to the task at hand.

Down a corridor, another, and another; past a suit of armor, strangely loping, and group of older students that she didn't know. And then, after an indeterminate stretch of time, just as she turned a corner, a great rumble filled the air. It was as if the very castle was shaking, trembling under the weight of hell breaking. At the end of the hallway, she finally saw her opening: a large window looking down on the grounds. Sprinting, she tripped on a fallen painting whose tenant was obviously elsewhere, but, though she cursed audibly, she got up and kept going.

At the window, she stopped abruptly, almost keeling over the side, but catching herself. Leaning to get a better view, Tonks looked down in an attempt to see what had happened. Though she suspected the death eaters had gotten through, she never could have imagined what met her gaze.

They came like dark water crashing on the bay. Filling the grounds with their fluttering cloaks and flashing curses, the death eaters fell on the castle in droves, screeching and clawing their way to and through the doors. Staring in shock, she couldn't pretend that everyone was okay. Without a doubt, her wretched eyes were watching death. From this height, she could not know who, but there, somewhere, life was leaving the bodies of untold friends, and the image she knew would haunt her until her dying day.

Composing herself, breathing in deeply and shutting out the torturous thoughts, Tonks held out her wand, aimed at a random figure, and sent the first curse she could think of. What she said, she didn't comprehend, but whatever it was, the figure fell. She stepped back so as to avoid detection, but there was no need. In the anarchy, none of his comrades even took a second glance.

Stepping forward, she sent another. Then another and another. Death eaters crumbled, and no one was the wiser. With each utterance, she thought, "this one's for Moody," and "this one's for Daddy." She was surprised by the calmness that settled over her; for some reason, it was as if the dead were with her, urging her on, reminding her that she was not forgotten. After a time, a few death eaters began to notice, and she narrowly avoided a few curses, but it didn't take long for them to become engaged elsewhere, at which point she went back to her determined task.

She only became anxious when her thoughts turned to Remus. Where was he? She didn't know. Every time he crept into her mind, she reassured herself; "he's fine, he knows how to be careful, he knows what to do." She didn't let herself imagine him as anything but alive. Though it might seem foolish to some, Tonks' worst fear was that he might be injured. It didn't even occur to her to worry about anything else.

Whenever these doubts came, Tonks visualized Teddy instead. He was happy. He was safe. And when this night was over, she hoped and believed with every ounce of her being that he would be given a world free of the darkness, the evil, and the fear of the enemy, now so real, but then, finally faded and distant. She fought now, rejoicing in the promise of a different world for her family, for her child. A world where she could find peace- free, happy, and in love.

Deep into the night, she continued her assault. Hogwarts was collapsing slowly, and dust filled the air, but the battle wasn't over, and so Tonks kept faith. As the night advanced, fewer combatants dueled on the lawn, but more enemies were able to make their way up to her. It didn't take long for her hallway to become reduced to rubble, multiple death eaters lying stunned on the rock- strewn floor. It took almost no time at all for her black cloak to turn ash grey, for her face to be covered in sweat and blood, though she sustained no serious injuries. She was grateful for her auror training; she felt like vomiting when she considered how high the death toll must be, particularly among the students. Particularly among those stuck at the center.

After narrowly dodging and stunning another death eater that crept up the corridor, Tonks had just determined that there wasn't enough reason to stay at the window, and so she went to hurry down to the great hall. There, they would need her.

As she was rushing past the fallen picture frame, now only one of many littering the floor, she heard a voice shouting at her. Doubling back, she peered down at the once- empty canvas and was met by the dirty face of a familiar knight.

"Heyya, Sir Cadogan. Nice to see ya, I really can't talk, I have to help, I have to…" she panted, grasping her side.

"Tonks, I'm supposed to get you. You need to come," he said. But she wasn't listening.

"Well, bye, then. I'll be goin' now."

"Tonks. You need to come with me. Now," he said, and only then did she notice that she had never heard him sound like this before. He sounded so serious, so different from his usual manner. Though the raging conflict definitely warranted this kind of response, she seriously doubted that this was his only concern.

"Whatsup?" she asked tentatively, bracing herself.

"It's Lupin. Remus, I mean."

Her heart stopped. A moment later, it was beating a million kilometers an hour, pounding in her chest and roaring in her ears.

"What...what happened...I…"

"I'm not sure I should…" Now she was inexplicably, unexplainably angry.

"Tell me. Tell me now, Cadogan. What's wrong with my husband? Does he need my help?"

"Slow down, maybe you should sit…" he tried again.

"Cadogan, I'm not sitting anywhere. Tell. Me."

"But…" She had never seen him so timid, had never imagined that he could be anything but obnoxious, hilarious, or perhaps abrasive.

"Cadogan, I swear I'll kill you if you don't tell me. Where's Remus?"

"I…" He paused. She glared at him, fear and anger almost to the point of loathing filling her up. She was panicked, and she had to know, and she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. Finally, he sighed, resigned, a pained expression on his painted face.

"That's just it. He's dead."

"D...d…" she stuttered, her eyes bulging.

He began, "Don't…"

But she wasn't listening. Rather, she was running, running, crying and screaming as she ran, and then laughing maniacally as her cloak billowed behind her, her usual bubble-gum pink hair alternating between blood red, ashen grey, and abyssal black. Her eyes danced, too, flickering like multicolored glass as she tore down, and down, and down to the great hall. She didn't know where he was, but she had to find him. She had to see, to know. It was all just a cruel joke, a cruel joke that they would laugh about in the morning, in the morning when the light came and with it warmth and tears, not because they were sad, but because it was all over. When the light came, and filled them with fire, thawing the hearts that froze with the deaths of everyone who mattered.

He was dead. He was dead. He was dead. How could he be dead? How could he be gone, when she was here, and she was alive, and they were almost free? How could he be gone when Teddy needed him? When she needed him? When they were so close to having the life they wanted, the life they had worked for and suffered for? She needed him. No, more- she loved him. She loved Remus more than life itself, she had given him her life, her very soul. So how could he be gone, and how could she still be here to feel the emptiness?

The rushing of her pulse blocked out any other thought that might have occurred to her. She had no idea how many spells she cast, or what they might have been, or how many death eaters lay motionless in her wake. Frankly, she didn't care. She was tumbling, falling, and for once it was not a result of clumsiness. Rather, she was being dragged, kicking and screaming, into a vortex of anguish the likes of which she had never felt. Never- not when Sirius died, or Dumbledore. Not when Moody was killed, or countless old friends. Not even when her own beloved father was brutally murdered. Tonks had seen so much pain and passing, and yet, she hadn't known the worst torment of all. Until that moment, she had not known how it felt to have love ripped from your body, torn into pieces that could never mend, and scattered somewhere in the infinite, beyond the reach of any hope. Not even a dementor could fathom that kind of torture.

And then, in some way, she made it to the great hall. The doors stood wide open, and the air that billowed out was smoke and iron. Shouts and explosions echoed around the room, and the cackling of the enemy chilled those who heard it to the very bone. The stone floors were covered in seeping scarlet and lifeless dolls. There was a time when the sight would have made her step away, repulsed and ill. But not now. Tears leaking down her face, she lurched forward, just in time to see the blood-stained grin of a demon retreating into the throng.

In the corner where Dolohov had been, a tattered form lie face up, staring at the ceiling with vacant, clouded green eyes. A strangled cry escaped her throat as she reeled frantically toward the man who could not be Remus. Dropping to her knees, she began sobbing uncontrollably, reduced to a pitiful little girl who had just lost her entire world. The man was Remus, and as she held his paper-thin, nearly translucent hand, there was nothing but static silence where once there had been the warm beating of a living, smiling heart.

Her hair was black and her eyes were black and her soul was black as she sat beneath a black ceiling that mirrored a black sky. Despite the noise and flashing light, despite the flying curses and falling bodies, no one came, to harm or to help. The universe was her own as she succumbed to the inalterable reality.

And then, after that moment, both brief and eternal, she stood. Fifteen paces away, Antonin Dolohov fought, his cape and wand whirling, and there was no one there but them two. Though uncoordinated, quirky, and kind, Nymphadora Tonks Lupin dodged through the sea of combat masterfully, determinately, and dangerously. A foot away, she stopped, held her wand straight in front of her, and pointed it at the condemned murderer. Yet, before she could give utterance to that spell, that fateful curse, she was met by a blast that sent her ricocheting back the way she had come.

There she lay on the floor, her forehead and right arm bleeding profusely, her vision blurred by crimson. If it weren't for adrenaline, the pain might have been unbearable.

Mincing toward her out of the smoke was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, her hated relative, a traitorous snake. Bella was laughing, a rotten, wretched sound, as she strode purposefully, and yet nonchalantly, to her niece's prostrate frame.

"Ah, if it isn't 'ittle bitty Dora. How's ya pop, sweet?" she sneered as she drew ever closer. Tonks was silent but for a low, impulsive growl. Gritting her teeth, she went to stand, but only got a few inches off the ground before she her strength gave out and she fell. Bellatrix laughed again.

"Bit of a rough night, then?" Again, Tonks ignored her, and instead began backing away with her good arm. She was starting to suspect her right was broken.

"You're not goin' anywhere, cuz." Bellatrix grimaced at her, her nose so obviously like her sister Narcissa's, crinkled as if smelling a foul odor.

"And I suppose you're going to stop me?" Tonks finally spat, frustration and pain finally overwhelming her. "There's nothing more you can take from me."

For a split second, Bella appeared confused. Then, her expression brightened as she looked over Tonks' shoulder and understanding dawned.

"You're poor, barbaric husband. Well, he seems a bit peaky."

Tonks had had it. Aiming her wand at Bellatrix, she screamed.

"Petrificus totalus!"

In that same instant, Bella casually flicked her wand, blocking the curse without a second's consideration or even an incantation.

"Tsk, tsk. Rather a pathetic spell for someone who's about to kill you. You really aren't much fun, are you?"

Fighting back angry tears, Tonks continued to the wall inch by inch. Without a plan, and without a reason, she nevertheless felt compelled to go to him, to be beside her husband, lifeless though he may be. He was safe, he was comfort. He was home.

And then, she felt stone. Remus lay a meter away, and Bellatrix stood all of two meters in front of her. Every now and then, a curse came at the death eater's back, and yet, she avoided every one almost effortlessly, slithering to her prey, preparing to strike. Toying with the mouse she would soon swallow.

One step. Two. In a millisecond, Tonks was on her feet, relying on the wall to bear her up as she remembered the only thing that could keep her from hopelessness, the only reason she had to survive. Teddy. Sweet, innocent Teddy, another child who would never know his father. Teddy, her own precious baby, a baby that needed a mother.

Bella's face was full of surprise upon discovering that Tonks had the strength to stand after all. Deciding that perhaps the game was over, the witch slashed her wand, thinking to finish the worthless half-blood. If she was expecting a sudden ending, she was mistaken. Tonks skillfully dodged the blow, and sent her own silent spell, which Bellatrix scarcely escaped.

"You want to play?" Bella dared.

"I want to win."

And the duel was on.

Sparks flew, wands waved, and blood spilled upon the dusty floor. Though many tried to intervene on both sides, none managed to detract either witch from their target. It was apparent that Bellatrix's magic was powerful, and she was more than a match for her niece. But Tonks had something that Bella did not. Tonks had love.

Still, although love can protect and uplift, though it is the most noble cause, it does not guarantee victory. It cannot eradicate human weakness. In time, Tonks began to fade, fatigue and pain overwhelming her. As she became ever more exhausted, Bellatrix thrived on her agony, a parasite on its unwilling host. The more tired she became, the more fiercely Bella fought. Tonks couldn't hope to fight forever.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix shrieked. This time, the lightning hit it's mark. Tonks' wand flew from her hand as her battered body began to twitch and squirm, and she was ready for death. Again, and again, and she did not protest. Others would love Teddy. Others would mourn Remus. And, she prayed, her soul would finally be free, somewhere away from this world, someplace where she and Remus could be happy, believing that their sacrifice had not been in vain. Far away, she could hear friends, screaming and cursing in an attempt to still Bellatrix's vicious blade. She alone knew it was fruitless. Once more, and a bleeding heart stopped. She never had the chance to say goodbye.

In a distant place, a baby cried, his caleidoscope curls going black; he missed his momma and daddy. An older woman picked him up gently, bouncing him on her knee and whispering in his ear.

"They'll be home soon, now. Only a few more hours, and then they'll come. Your momma and daddy love you. I love you. It's gonna be okay."

And it would be, but it would never be the same.

Back in the great hall, two figures, pale and translucent, lay side by side beneath an obsidian sky, etched in flashing light. Their hands were outreached towards each other, as if their final thoughts had been of the love that this world would not hold. Their eyes were glassy, their empty gazes fixed on the infinite. Their final tears sat coldly on their ghostly faces.

From the corner, a cloaked phantom appeared, but this time, it was not an angel of death. The cruel voice announcing the temporary retreat of the death eaters was speaking, and no one noticed as the phantom's shadow crept along the stone and rested gently upon the sleeping figures. Leaning over the fallen, the girl quietly pulled from her robes the last item one might have expected- an empty pen. Placing the tip on Tonks' face, she carefully collected the witch's last, glittering tears, before retreating silently away into the shadows again. The story of the boy Harry Potter would continue, and finish as you knew it would.

And then there is today.

The girl with the pen came home, and she worked some small bit of magic. She held the pen as it slid along paper, and she let it speak its haunting, and yet beautiful, story. She listened to the tale, and she mourned for dead and those left to endure. She shared the words, so that love could live beyond the grave.

That day was a day of beginnings. No one knew how hope would start to mend, only that it would, it must; after today, there would only be flying.