ad perpetuam memoriam: in perpetual memory; the remembrance of someone after death.
The first things she remembers about him are his blue, blue eyes.
She's three and they're visiting her cousin Sirius at the Potters' house. She's always liked the Potters – they pay attention to her and give her candy and let her call them Grandma and Grandpa. They're not her real grandparents, but as far as she's concerned, they're good enough.
Sirius is pawing through an old crate of Quidditch equipment in the backyard as James hovers nearby on his broom. She brightens – she's never been on a real broom before, because the toy one her daddy gave her for her birthday doesn't count, and maybe James'll let her try it.
"Sirius!" she yells, running over to greet her favorite cousin. "Can I –"
From nowhere appears another tall boy, one she's never seen before, but that doesn't register with her until she's already smashed face-first into his leg.
"Ow," she admits as she rubs her nose. The boy, his features intensely concerned, kneels down to her level. Ignoring the tears pricking her eyes, she offers him a smile.
"Nymphadora Tonks," she says brightly, beaming at him. "Are you Sirius's friend? Is your leg okay?"
"Remus Lupin," he says as his eyes crinkle into a smile wide and blue as the ocean, something even her recently-tamed Metamorphmagus abilities can't imitate.
Between that pleasant experience and finally getting to ride a broom, she considers the day well-spent.
oO0OoO0OoO0OoO0Oo
They don't meet again until much later – Mum and Dad stop going to the Potters' when she's eight or so, and won't tell her why – and she's happy to see that those eyes haven't dulled a shade since she saw them last (more than twenty years ago). She doesn't expect him to recognize her; it's not like she even remembers what hair or eyes she was wearing that day, but something about the way he first addresses her as "Sirius's little cousin" makes her wonder.
…Of course, Sirius might've just told him that – but some small part of her hopes he's remembered. And that same small part is the one that makes her spend just a minute or two longer on her appearance each morning before Order meetings, or tease him just a bit more than anyone else during breaks in productivity.
She can't know that, just a year in the future, she'll take her vows to love this man for the rest of her life.
oO0OoO0OoO0OoO0Oo
Another year's time brings them to the crux of the battle they both detest and thrive off of.
He's left her at home, but he can't really expect her to stay. She's trailing his footsteps up to the castle after only ten minutes, following the sickening noise of curses to the main fight.
She looks around for him, swinging her head wildly, but no one's seen him and the fighting is too thick to –
On her right, Antonin Dolohov sends a curse snarling through the air, and she knows the cry of pain before she sees its owner.
He's crumpled on the cold stone floor, face forever frozen in a quiet stare of taciturn defeat, like a silent apology to those he could never have saved.
Her wand hangs limply at her side as she rushes across the chaotic Great Hall, and she really can't say she's surprised when she feels the blow squarely between her shoulder blades.
Those blue eyes are the last things she'll remember.
A/N: James and Lily died when Tonks was nine.
Written for the Canon Pairings Competition with prompt blue.
Please review if you liked it, hated it, or felt somewhere in between :) Thanks!
Ebaz