I LOVE LOVE LOVE the Little Mermaid on Broadway, and this number OH MY GOD. Please listen to it.
It's a quartet between Triton, Eric, Ariel and Sebastian, and it's SO BEAUTIFUL.
So, obviously a few parts are being changed.
PLEASE PLEASE LISTEN TO IT.
Actually just listen to the entire thing, Flounder is the cutest thing I've EVER SEEN.
She had woken up in St Mungo's to the shock that someone had died. Her mind immediately went to Remus, afraid it had been him, but learning it had been Sirius- that was a pain she had never imagined.
Remus withdrew, and could she blame him? A few weeks into summer, and she had to try. It was now or never, they could die any day.
But he pushed her away. And the pink she always favoured, it was gone. She threw herself into work, hoping she'd either get distracted or he'd give in.
She wished she could tell him more, tell him everything, but he avoided her. At Order meetings, he'd sit as far from her as he could, avoiding eye contact. There were times they came face-to-face, while leaving, but he said nothing.
And she said nothing. What could she say? She had conveyed her feelings, and been shot down. It was a little embarrassing, but mostly just heartbreaking. He was the one person she wanted to talk to properly- the one person she wanted to share her secrets, her dreams, her life with.
She returned home, usually with a splitting headache from overworking herself, and leaned against the door, sinking to the floor. She was every type of exhausted she could think of, and the silence seemed to be closing in.
She threw her wand in a fit of frustration, hearing it hit the floor a few feet away. She buried her head in her hands and cried. She tried to be happy, she tried but there was no denying that it hurt to even pretend. She tried to hide her pain behind false smiles, tried to be herself, but there was no point.
She felt as if everything would be okay, everything might be better- if only they could be together.
If only.
Remus always felt terrible. He either felt the emotional weight of his condition, or the physical pains. And now, it was the former. He had to see that pink hair again, because it was her.
This girl he came face-to-face with, it wasn't her. She looked almost ill, tired and pale. He would sometimes make sure they'd get close to one another at the end of meetings, because he needed to be near her, he needed to talk to her. But he never did.
He yearned to speak to her, but it was as if his voice was snatched the second they linked eyes. He needed to see the pink hair again, he just had to, and it was his fault it was gone.
And the second he came face-to-face with her, he couldn't say anything. The depression she had sunk into, it was his fault. And if he was with her, would it end? Or would the pink hair return, only to vanish again once the judgement of Wizarding World set in?
He couldn't do it, he couldn't destroy her. He had to be as far as away as possible, so he threw himself into work for the Order- the most dangerous missions, almost hoping he'd die- to save her. To save her from the pain from having to see him daily.
And it was great relief when he took the werewolf assignment, perhaps she'd move on while he was away. And if he never returned, if he died, she could be okay. Without him.
But he did hope, he had always hoped. If only he could be with her.
If only.
Moody watched as she became pale, and quite frankly ill-looking. Her hair, something he had always made comments for, lost the pink he had become used to. As much as he hated the hair, it had always meant she was happy.
If he had the ability, he'd fix it all. The war, Remus, everything. She was young, she was really in her prime- for both being an Auror and just a woman in general- and she deserved happiness.
He would give everything he had, to see that dreadful pink hair again. But even he couldn't get to Remus, couldn't get him to see light, to understand. There was no crime in falling in love, or being with someone, even for a werewolf.
One talk, and Remus had begun to avoid him as well. What could he do? Corner the man and curse him until he listened? It seemed tempting at moments, but there was a war to fight- and he just hoped that if it ended, so would the stand-off between the two.
He had tea often with her, he always had since she was training with him. But it was different. She used to be talkative, energetic, making jokes- that was all gone now. She didn't say much, he was sure she wasn't eating much, and Moody tried to drag her into conversations, but his attempts were useless.
She still smiled, but they were pain-filled. She wasn't happy, even thought she tried to force herself to be, and it pained him to see her like this. He knew her well, and knew this wasn't her.
And Moody wasn't sure what would kill her first- the war or Remus' constant rejections. If only he knew how to fix it.
If only.
Andromeda and Ted struggled to see their daughter shut down. This wasn't their daughter.
Their daughter was pink-haired, energetic, happy. She smiled a lot, she joked, she laughed- even at inappropriate times. At first, they began to think it was because she tried to balance work and the Order, but after a while Andromeda realised that wasn't it at all.
It was had been Molly who had told her, about Sirius and about Remus. Andromeda didn't know how to help her, she barely knew Remus- and she wasn't sure how much good it would do to approach him.
But this girl that they saw a few times a week, it wasn't their daughter. Andromeda didn't know who she was, but she wasn't Nymphadora.
In a matter of days, Nymphadora had vanished- and Andromeda was afraid she'd never see her again. The woman they faced, the woman they tried to help, Andromeda didn't know her.
As a mother, Andromeda felt the obligation to try and help her. But how? The two women clashed often. Or they used to- but this version of the girl she raised was quiet, uninterested in arguing at all, unlike herself.
An argument did occur, and Nymphadora had left. And that had been two weeks ago, and Andromeda was frightened her daughter wouldn't be back this time. She had tried to get Nymphadora to see sense- after all, he was a werewolf- but it didn't help.
And sometimes, Andromeda regretted the argument. Perhaps, if only she had listened to her daughter's reasoning, she would be seeing Nymphadora just as much as she did before.
If only.
So I kind of didn't capture everything I wanted to but I tried
I still love this song though