Tonks stood with Remus, holding hands, anxiously watching the night sky. He held her close, as they waited for the others to return. Guilt was welling up inside her like a giant balloon, as she thought of George, lying inside, covered in blood, with only one ear for the rest of his life. Granted, it could have been worse, but it was still unfair that they had to become soldiers at such an early age. Untrained, unprepared. This wasn't their war. And if they didn't come back, she would never forgive herself for letting them come. And if they did come back, she would never forgive them for wanting to come.
This wasn't their war. But really, whose was it?