Hello readers! Yes, I do believe this took a very long time to update. This story gets increasingly harder! I decided to go for the shorter ending as I'm going back to school soon therefore writing this will become harder, i've not time!

Enjoy :)


Her body reduced to a skeletal frame. Her eyes drab and lacking the sanguine glow, her skin dim marginally grey and giving off the idea that it was melting though the bone gaps.

She lay in a bed propped up against the mushy pillows that kept her sore back from throbbing. Sleep deprived she prearranged to doze off yet a man trudged in. his age was evident as the premature wrinkles and cicatrix spreading from the right side of his face to left. Stirring awake she actualized the man standing in the room. "Remus." She croaked her voice harsh from disuse as a product of grief. The dear they were grieving over, she resembled plenty. Her au natural form represented his swimmy grey eyes and high cheekbones gave her stunning elegancy to her beauty. Just like Sirius, she had the same wavy hair to the shoulders although mousy brown, unlike the stormy black he had.

"You..need to..i.."

She exhaled sorrowfully, casting her eyes down. "I'm sorry. I'm making this harder for you."

He indicated a quick nod. "I can't metamorphose, you know. Not yet."

"No really Dora, it's okay. You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." They shed a moment of silence reminiscing the favourable memories with Sirius. "I…It's time for your cream…"
She lifted up her t-shirt to reveal angry purple bruises covering her ribs and abdomen. Remus gingerly spread the ointment onto her flesh. She moaned in pleasure as his amiable fingers caressed her skin.

"No matter what your heartache may be, laughing helps you forget it for a few seconds." She breathed.

The absence of his hands assuredly made her thirsty for him, now more than ever, the vacancy of them leaving a hollow, needy feeling; she, required his presence to keep her normality.

His latest attack was so sudden and onslaught, displaying just how execrable and unsparing her uncle really was. She was abhorred that this perilous man was her family. It was an abomination, how could her dear aunt married so badly? For protection, money and to maintain loyalty from her family, was it really worth it? Evidently she saw the cruelty this man possesses?

Next his hands encased themselves around her throat. She notices an intense nothingness at first, like when one cannot breath, you can't feel the air and it overwhelms you. And as soon as you realise what's happening, panic kicks in and this is where the pain happens. Her senses inebriated; her eyes opaque with a milky colour. When he withdrew his fingers, she took an arduous breath. Her throat burned; scorched from deficit of water.

She was left to lie in the charcoal black room, detached from any human hustle. Excessively grown fingernails delineated the bumps and bruises, lacerations around her body cringing at the remembrance of how weak she thought she'd been. She feigns her own weakness as a hope of him hurting her less. Imitating her own weakness, instead of fighting back fiercely like the wolfess she is. Acting out upon what her body tells you what to do, instead of the steady brain although she was convinced she was going slightly insane. She already gave him the satisfaction of thinking he'd won, that he'd overpowered her, that he's conquered her inner strength leaving a frightened little girl behind. She mused over how displeased she was with herself as she groped her stomach in hopes of making that tiny hill vanish.

As two bodies lay compact together, his hands traces his fingers lightly up and down her hip bones almost seductively, she reposed on top of his chest, fingernails curling themselves in his chest hair as she smiles playfully.

"Remus?" she looks up a hopeful glint in her eye.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever thought about having children?"

Resentment flashed in his eyes and quickly disintegrated. His eyes softened yet the hostility was still lingering.

"Nymphadora, as much as I would adore having children, I am a werewolf therefore this wipes out any chances of me having a baby. What if it develops lycanthropy? I couldn't stand myself if I brought this condition unto a unborn child, so innocent, so sweet. Furthermore, I am too poor to even support it. You wouldn't want to establish such a life on a child, would you Tonks?"

"I..I was just asking." She replied somewhat regretfully, yet she flashed a quick smile and returned to her position resting on Remus.

Her love made it definite that he did not want a child. But what about this one? It wasn't his, but would he still love her same? Would it feel right to have in a way, a bastard child, it belonging to the mother and yet not her partner? Probably not. He had this old fashioned nature about him therefore probably only stuck to traditional family ordinance. She reiterated this colloquy.

She let her calm façade crack as a fresh tear ran down her cheek.

As time ebbed on she folded into herself, curling up in a tiny ball; bones more distinct. She appeared more childlike, diminutive and frail all the more so. After duration of consternation, her uncle staggered in, outraged and sullen a fair amount of blood oozing out of a head wound.

"You" he snarled with most hostility he could utter, eyes glowing a fiery red. "Come here, little niece." Drunken murderous raving lunatics, certified insane, could not scare her as much as he scared her right now.

He groped her arm in a solid grasp and wrenched her up. Hauling her across the hall, he seemed agitated. This pleased her as she smiled despite the circumstances. As they ascended many stairs and wandered through almost maze like corridors she contemplated why the rush. As the walk stretched, peculiar sounds radiated from the concrete walls.

"Come now Nymphadora, move faster." He hissed, almost pleadingly.

"Why?" she challenged. He turned around to look at her; she shot him a mischievous smirk.

"Why? WHY?" he roared. On cue a small figure entered the corridor the uncle and niece were situated in, and forthwith squeaked and pivoted back down the second corridor.

"WORMTAIL!" Wormtail gave an inhumane frightened whine and turned to face his superior.

"Y-yes master?" shakily spoken.

"How do the Order know, it is this house?"

The littler man reached a hand a hand hesitantly to his master, then drew back realising the consequences. "I…it wasn't m-me… someone let it slip..."

"You mean to declare that another Death Eater who resides in this residence is ludicrous enough to announce the boarding of my niece to the Order? Why that's absurd."

"Ah..ah..they're raiding all of our homes they say…"

"Then why are they hosting a tremendous attack on this house in particular?" Lucius then let go of his vice grip on Nymphadora.

"I-it's so big master. It's so big they..they wouldn't find her…"

"Ah, how can I not be capable of thinking this up on my own?" he said monotonously. An evil sneer played up on his lips as she advanced on Wormtail.

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO." He shrieked at the taller man, grasping his robes for support as he sobbed out the words. "You have no idea what those Dumbledore's squads can do. They hurt me...the mutt used the cruciatus on me. Ahhh!" he sobbed harder into Lucius' robes, cheeks grazing, mouse like, the fine material.

Nymphadora's heart warmed. The mutt used cruciatus. Remus used an unforgivable to be given the whereabouts of her; she didn't think he had the wits to do so. A wave of nausea swept over her. Her love was using a unforgivable for her, on his teenage hood best friend. It didn't feel right. After all friendship roots grow deep. He would use it for an annoying twenty-three year old woman with the almost annoyingly pink hair that he knew not long? Was she really worth it? She declined that thought, and snapped out of her reverie. Her uncle Lucius was torturing the poor man, weeping on the floor, red liquid staining the perfect white marble. He betrayed them, he betrayed them, he betrayed them. And yet all she could muster sympathy for the man sprawled onto the floor, shrieking in vast amount of pain.

She settled her sore hands on her ears to disconnect with his wails and used her uncle's moment of distraction to escape. She ran down the hallway, despite the ill feeling of queasiness, she had to establish an exit. Her ears located the sound of the crashes and clangs of the battle and sensed she was near. Adrenaline rushed through her, she was determined to fight and see the daylight once more. With thoughts of positivity she rushed up the last flight of stairs and scrambled directly into the pit fire.

Six of hers were here against a much greater numbers of Death Eaters. She placed her eyes on Remus, fighting four of Voldemort's cronies at once. Her heart pulled. She wasn't questioning his strength and ability to duel but she didn't feel this ending well. Panicking, she picked up a fragment of rubble the battle caused and ventured a throw, only to have it slip out of weak hands and land. The load she attempted at throwing made her awfully disoriented and she collapsed.


Quotes in flashback one, belong to Eleanor Roosevelt and Red Skelton.

Sadly there isn't much chapters following this one..

Review please, mean's a lot.
xx