Chapter One: No More

Tonks moved restlessly around her small flat, sadness radiating from her in waves. This last year had been filled with tension, death, and heartache. She still remembered the surprise on Sirius's face as he fell threw the veil and the sight of Dumbledore's body on the stone slab at Hogwarts. So many had died. The war was coming to a head.

Thoughts of the war brought thoughts of Harry and his friends. Shortly before Hogwarts was to open for a new year they had disappeared. She knew they were searching for those bits and pieces that held Voldermort here even after death. She worried for them, but she had faith they would succeed. None of this explained the deep, wrenching sadness she felt, though. That was reserved for one person, Remus.

She couldn't tell you when her feelings changed from friendship to love. Maybe it was when he was so strong after Sirius died. Or maybe it was before that, and she just didn't notice. Either way, she was very much in love with the werewolf, and very much heartbroken. He was just so adamant that they could never be. At first she thought that it was because of the werewolf thing, but after today she wasn't as sure.

Thoughts of what she'd blurted out in the Hogwarts medical ward made heat suffuse her cheeks. Now everyone was privy to her one-sided love. And she was quite sure it was one-sided. If Fluer was still willing to be with Bill after what happened, it proved that being werewolf, or part werewolf, wasn't important. He had still turned her down. That's when she realized he'd just been using being a werewolf to let her down gently.

Deciding that a hot bath sounded lovely, she headed toward her bathroom. With a flick of her wand, the tub was full of hot, bubble-filled water. Stripping her clothes wearily from her body, she eased into the soothing water. Sighing in pleasure, she leaned her head back, relaxing her muscles one by one.

She soaked for an hour before shaving and washing herself. As the water drained from the tub, she dried herself with a towel. For a little over an hour she'd been able to forget her troubles, but bit by bit, she was remembering. Walking to her bedroom, she searched for something to wear. As she passed her full length mirror, she slowed to look at herself. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Short, limp, mousy hair sat atop a heart-shaped face dominated by big blue eyes, a small nose, and semi-full lips. All in all, she looked quite plain. She took stock of her body next, which cheered her somewhat. She had high, firm breasts, with dusky areoles, neither too big nor too small. She tapered to a narrow waist with a hard, flat stomach from years of being an Auror before gently flaring out at the hips. She had nice, toned legs that led to small ankles and dainty feet with small toes painted bright pink.

Though her face was plain, she didn't have a half bad figure. It still wasn't enough to entice him. Maybe he's gay, she thought idly. At least if he was gay, his non-interest wouldn't be because she was lacking. Then she remembered the way he looked at Fluer in the hospital wing. He had definitely appreciated what he saw. If he was gay, even Fluer's Veela heritage wouldn't be able to cause a reaction.

So then it was back to her. Somehow, she was lacking. She knew it wasn't her looks. After all, she could change that at will. That left only her personality and age. She knew she sometimes came off as a little odd, but she couldn't help it. How else was one to deal with being in a family like hers? She'd much rather be silly, optimistic, and outgoing than brooding and pessimistic like Sirius had been. Of course it didn't help that she was a major klutz as well. That just added to the immaturity persona everyone stuck her with.

Suddenly, everything hit her at once. She was fighting in a war where any of them could die tomorrow, and the one man she loved more than anything saw her as nothing more than an annoying fellow Order member. She was going to die sad and alone, whether tomorrow or fifty years from now. The thought crushed the air from her lungs. She couldn't take it anymore. If she was going to die, it would be on her terms. Besides, what did she have to live for?

She wasn't a critical member of the Order, so her death would hurt them very little. Remus would finally be free of her constant badgering. Hell, he might even be relieved if she wasn't around anymore. The ministry would make public statement about such a tragedy, but being an Auror was stressful and, though it wasn't common, others had left by their own hands it the pasts. It wouldn't be too big of a deal.

Resolving herself to the fact that she was committed to this plan of action, she began to prepare. Since you couldn't use a wand on yourself, the Aveda Kadavra was out. That left the Muggle way. She could shoot herself, but someone would hear and come immediately. She didn't want to make anyone panic. Besides that method was messy.

She could stab herself. The only problem was the pain factor. Though pain was part of her job description she tried to avoid it if possible, and now was no exception. That left slitting her wrists. He was minor pain compared to the others, and within minutes you stopped feeling at all if the stories were true. That sounded the least messy, especially if she did it in the tub, and the least painful. Plus, the supplies were few and easy to come by.

She dressed quickly in a green silk nightgown and matching knickers. She'd rather no one find her completely naked. She at least wanted some dignity when she went. She headed for the kitchen to grab a knife. She knew of a nice, sharp, long-bladed one. She grabbed it and took it to the bathroom, sitting it on the rim of the tub. She wondered how long it would take for someone to find her. Maybe she should owl someone. They wouldn't be able to get to her flat in time to stop her, but it wouldn't take until she smelled for someone to find her.

She started thinking of who she would rather find her, and Remus immediately came to mind. She didn't want to burden him with anymore guilt, but she wasn't entirely comfortable with someone else finding her. She should probably leave a note for everyone to be able to read. That was normal for suicides too. It would help to give others closer. She sat down at her desk, situated in the living room. Grabbing a piece of parchment, she began her letter to Remus.