Nothing comes easily.

Fill this empty space.

Nothing is like it was.

Turn my grief to grace.

– Kate Havnevik

The pleasure of waking up in Mark's arms has never waned.

Warm and protective, they encircle me like heaven's own arms. Yes, heaven. Because I believe heaven is a wonderful place, with warm and protective things…like his arms. In fact, they're so heavenly, I often call him god. Of course I'm still drunk with sleep when I do this, but I still do. Being a man I don't think he ever gets tired of the complement.

I hear his breathing change and know he has joined me in the world of the living. His arms tighten around me and I wiggle playfully. He moans in my ear, but it's not the husky let's-have-sex moan; it's an I-just-wanna-sleep-Tonks moan. I wiggle again and his arms tighten even more, stopping any movement I have planned.

"Hmm," he moans, and his breath tickles my neck. "Sleep is good. Sleep is magical."

I go to tell him that he can whip out his wand and make something magical, but I refrain. You do not deprive Mark from his sleep. You do not make jokes when Mark wants to sleep. Sleep is his antidote to life. Sleep is his alcohol. And after the last few weeks, Mark needs his alcohol.

"I have to get up," I tell him, but he doesn't release me from his hold.

"No." He mumbles. "You sleep. We sleep."

I laugh. "Mark! I have to shower, have to pack. I'm leaving today, remember?"

He groans before releasing me. I have deprived Mark of sleep. Since he can't see me – I grin. Breaking his rules is always a great way to start the morning. "I thought you were leaving tomorrow."

"Nope." I tell him cheerfully as I climb out of bed. He makes a futile attempt to grab me before burying his head in the pillow. "Ginny is stressing. She needs me earlier than she said before."

"What about her sister?" He asks, voice hardly audible. "Hermione."

"Hah. My dear, dear friend, Hermione is nine months pregnant. And is officially late as of yesterday. Ginny needs me."

He mumbles something unintelligible.

"I'm getting in the shower, love."

I skip out of the room while singing some crude sailor song we once heard on an old muggle film. Feebly Mark throws a pillow at me, only for it to land on the opposite side of the bed. I stick my tongue out before entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.

---

As the warm water trickles into my eyes and pounds against my back, I am forced to think about my homecoming. Mark gave me plenty of distractions last night, but now, alone in the shower, I can't not think about going home.

Yes, I am excited for Harry and Ginny's wedding, for Ron and Hermione's baby – excited just to see everyone. Almost everyone. Well no, everyone – ugh. This whole going home thing is too confusing. It would be a lot less complicated if a certain werewolf wouldn't be there. A werewolf named Remus.

The last time I saw him my eyes were red and swollen, his closed and unreadable. I guess his words told me everything I needed to know, that we just weren't meant to be. Men! They always have the stupidest reasons for ending a relationship. Remus tried saying the same thing before we had gotten together, when I professed my feelings in front of everyone the night Dumbledore died.

I was a mess when I moved across country…rather, across sea. But then, in the busy streets of New York, I met a man who helped turn me around, who I learned to love. And this time, I was loved back. So loved in fact that two months ago Mark proposed. And I said yes. I said yes and saw Remus' face.

Life sucks.

One moment you're all happy and giddy and the next you're drowning in a pool of sorrow, or some other poetic crap. I thought my life was on track – is on track – but this, going back to where the catalyst of my move lives, sends me off a few paces and into a nearby wall.

Remus was my love. I pinned for him, cried over him. He hurt me. Hurt me enough to send me to America, to send me into the arms of another man. And yet I'm scared to see him, scared of what I'll do when I'm near him.

Mark was my redemption, my savior – he's heaven's arms.

But Remus is the fork in the road. The obstacle that no matter how hard you try you can't avoid. And I'm afraid that without Mark, I'll waver…I'll get off course and crash into that wall.

My hair grows and turns to brown at the thought.

Yes. Life sucks.

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Author's Note: Sooo originally this story was posted over at HPFF, along with two other chapters. But I've decided to bring it here. Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. And by the way, reviews make me plenty happy. D