"Merely a precaution," Remus said, noticing her wide eyes. He didn't expect Nymphadora to strip; he only wanted privacy. "May I kiss you?"

"Please."

Remus touched her cheek. "Don't," he said when her blush suddenly faded.

The pink returned in a vivid wash of colour. "It's embarrassing."

"It's beautiful." He softly kissed each "rose" and then her lips.

It didn't take long for his love to lose her shyness and deepen the kiss. Remus let her set the pace; fervently meeting the demands of her mouth and tongue. "I'm not asking for more," he said when her hands tugged at his shirt.

"I am. Take it off."

He helped her unfasten the buttons. "Don't feel pressured to reciprocate."

"I won't." She pulled her t-shirt over her head.

The glimpse of curves barely veiled by long hair and a low-cut bra prompted him to ask, "Have you considered changing your hairstyle?"

Nymphadora swept her hair back. "Like this?"

He slid his palms up her arms to cup her shoulders. "Exquisite."

She giggled and then looked stricken. "Was that insensitive? Did I ruin the mood?"

Remus kissed her passionately.

"That's good," she murmured a few minutes later.

He feathered kisses along her jaw and whispered in her ear, "It's brilliant."

Her laugh made him grin.

Almost shyly, she asked, "Is it always like this?"

A mixture of humour, lust, and breath-stealing tenderness? "Yes." Thank Merlin.

A pretty flush bloomed from her chest to her face. "I'll call Gitta and ask her to take Teddy downstairs."

If there was a reason why he should say no, he couldn't think of it—not that he tried. "I'll step into the bathroom for a moment, and perhaps you should, erm, retrieve your shirt."

"My shirt . . .?" She glanced down. "Oh. I forgot." Her expression clouded. "I keep doing that."

"I'm flattered." It wasn't what she meant, but his aim was to distract. He hooked a finger beneath a bra strap and tugged it into place. "And I'll be waiting."

In the bathroom, he looked at his reflection. I'll be waiting? She'll think I mean to jump her the second she opens the door!

Remus looked away from the chagrined face in the mirror. His eyes fell on the claw-foot tub.

A few minutes later, he sat waist deep in water and conjured a mound of bubbles. When Nymphadora strolled in like a black-haired Lady Godiva, he said, "You've always found baths relaxing."

She walked over to stand at the opposite end of the tub. "I am kind of nervous."

"Me, too." He repeated words he'd spoken the night they became lovers. "It's our first time."

"I guess it is." She climbed into the water. "What now?"

Her gaze was skittish. Did she expect him to yank her into his arms? Maybe he would later, but she wasn't ready for that yet. He cast a wandless spell.

"What's happening?" Nymphadora asked, as the mound of foam rose between them.

Remus scooped and threw. "Bubble fight."

-

What started playfully in the bath ended in an expression of love he considered a renewal of vows.

Nymphadora lifted her head from his chest. "What you said after we—you know. Say it again."

"I, Remus, do come here freely seeking partnership. I come with all love, honour and sincerity, wishing only to become one with her that I love. Always will I strive for Nymphadora's happiness and welfare."

Tears glistened in her eyes. "I pictured Standing Stones. That's a real memory, isn't it?"

Remus wasn't ashamed to feel his own gaze mist. "Yes, we pledged our love twice on the Isle of Lewis."

"I don't remember more."

"You will with the Healer's help. She'll be here soon." He used a summoning charm to retrieve his watch and checked the time. "Very soon," he said. "I should go downstairs to meet her."

"I'll come with you."

"Everyone will be delighted," he said. "Gitta will make tea."

Nymphadora seemed leery at the thought of facing "everyone" although she put on a determined smile. "And food to go with it, I hope. I'm starving."

"So am I." He was hungry for their relationship and family to be fully restored. "But first I need to dry the bathroom tiles—and possibly my trousers." They had displaced a lot of water.

"I'll help." His love sprang off the bed and extended a hand to pull him up.

Remus took it gladly.

-

Compared to the cheeriness of her room, the rest of the house was old-fashioned and gloomy. "Who lives here? Dracula?" she asked.

"The Wolf Man, until his lovely bride regains her memory."

That he could joke about his condition without a trace of bitterness awed her. On the first floor landing, Tonks leaned over to kiss his cheek and stumbled against him, knocking them into the wall.

Remus anchored an arm around her waist. "Steady?"

"I am now." A swell of emotion brought tears to her eyes. "You're the most amazing person." She'd stolen their baby, said and done so many things that must have hurt. "You deserve better—"

"There's no such thing. You and Teddy are the best parts of my life."

The floodgates opened. He was so damned wonderful, and she felt the same way about him and Teddy. "I'm a bloody watering pot," she said when she'd managed to get hold of herself. "You'd think I'd have done better in Herbology." She dried Remus' shirt with a charm and then realised, "I never got an Outstanding. I remember!" She hugged him. "I'm so happy!"

He chuckled. "Let's go share the joy."

"Right." She imagined wizards and witches familiar from Order photographs ganged together, impatiently staring at the door. Hurriedly, she morphed to remove any blotchiness or puffiness from crying.

There wasn't a crowd in the basement, thank goodness. Tonks gave those assembled a little wave. "Wotcher."

"Tonks! It's so good to see you!" A red-haired girl bounded forward.

It took a second to match a name with the face. "Thanks, Ginny."

Andromeda, from her seat in armless rocking chair, said, "Teddy just drifted off to sleep. If you want to put him in his cot . . . ."

"No, it—it's fine if you hold him. You're his Nana." My mother. Tonks wished she didn't sound overly polite and awkward. She didn't want to hurt Andromeda, but she couldn't go up to her and give her a hug—couldn't feel what a daughter was supposed to feel. When she'd tried, pain drove all other thoughts out of her mind. Bellatrix's spells were wickedly effective.

Gitta appeared at her side. "Mistress wants tea?"

"Ta, thanks, and a sandwich, if it's no trouble."

"Nursing mums need more calories," said the woman recognisable as Molly Weasley.

The woman who killed Bellatrix.

Tonks dredged up a polite smile. Logically, she was aware that Mrs. Weasley acted in defence of her children and Bellatrix more than earned her fate.

"Why don't we take a seat?" Remus asked.

"All right." She ended up sitting between him and Ginny and directly across from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Her discomfort scale went off the Richter. She'd believed these people were her enemies. Did they know what she'd done to Jones, Figg, and Diddle? Hagrid's lonely-hearts ad wasn't published yet.

"Tea is served," Gitta said.

A silver tea service with two china cups and saucers and plates of sandwiches and tea cakes appeared on the table.

Tonks said, "It looks delicious, but there's so much. Is anyone else hungry?"

"No thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "We ate earlier."

"I'm still hungry." Ronald Weasley reacted to the others' disbelieving looks with a shrug. "I am."

More food and drink materialised on the pine tabletop. "Kreacher is Master Harry's house-elf. Kreacher is serving Master Harry's guests." An elderly house-elf stood behind the Weasleys, arms crossed, glaring at Gitta.

His raspy voice affected Tonks strangely. She dug her fingernails into her palms.

Kreacher shuffled closer, watery grey eyes focused on hers. "Is you remembering Kreacher?"

"Betrayer," she whispered. "Liar. Murderer." The accusations ripped their way up from a place that was dark and raw. She twisted her arm out of Remus' grip when he tried to prevent her from leaving the table. She didn't understand why she loathed Kreacher so fiercely, but she did, and she refused to stay in the same room with him.

She Apparated.

Remus courteously knocked on the door of their bedroom before he walked in.

"I won't go back there," she said. "I'll do something violent."

"Why?"

"You tell me."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. There were wrongs on many sides and then change. Forgiveness."

"Not on my part." A headache squeezed her like a vice. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said. "It hurts."

"Let me help." Remus guided her over sit at the end of the bed and leaned down to gently rotate his fingers over her scalp and then massaged her forehead and the skin at the corners of her eyes with the pads of his fingers in tiny circles. He kneaded across her shoulders and the back of her neck, pressing his fingers against the base of her skull and releasing.

He knelt and unlaced her boot. "There's a pressure point on your foot."

It was the place where the bones came together between her big toe and the second toe. While she breathed deeply, he did the press- release-massage routine—and then ran his hands up and down the tops of her feet. He slid his thumbs down to the bottom of her foot and swirled them around.

She sighed. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Remus was retying her laces when someone knocked on the door.

"Mistress? Healer Wells is here to sees you."

"Just a moment," Tonks called. She told Remus, "I'm scared. What if she can't help?"

"Have faith."

She hugged him. "I'll try."

Healer Wells met them in the drawing room. She was a grandmotherly-type witch who introduced herself and said, "I conjured a fire." She waved a hand at the blue flames shimmering in the ornate fireplace. "Patients find them calming."

Tonks nodded although she felt the opposite of relaxed. She sat on the sofa with Remus facing the Healer and said, "My husband told you what Bellatrix did. What can you do to fix it?"

"First, I'd like to hear what happened from your perspective."

As quickly and unemotionally as possible, Tonks rattled off a brief summary.

"How do you feel about Bellatrix?" the Healer asked.

My poor child. I was too late.

Tonks turned her head away from Remus' sympathetic gaze, toward the fireplace. The blue flames mesmerised. By focusing on them, it was easier to say, "I believed she was my mother. That she cared for me."

"And after you discovered the truth?"

"Conflicted."

"How so?"

"I cried because no one at the memorial grieved Bellatrix, and I should've been glad. I should hate her."

"But you don't?"

"No." The shock of her answer brought Tonks out of the weird trance state she'd fallen into. "I didn't mean that. Of course I hate her. She was evil. Insane. Worse than Kreacher." Even to her own ears, Tonks' words lacked conviction. What was wrong with her?

Healer Wells leaned forward in her chair. "Spells to repress memories with pain were not the only ones cast. She used Fide to ensure loyalty."

"Then use a counter-spell."

"Finite didn't work," Remus said. "I tried it numerous times."

Tonks said, "And I thought you were just staring into my eyes."

Remus' mouth curved. "Mostly I was."

Healer Wells waited until they redirected their attention to say, "If my theory is correct, once the repression spells are broken, the loyalty charms will also be null."

"Ace," Tonks said. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Very well. Stare into the fire."

"Why? So I can hypnotise myself?"

"I prefer to call it entering a disassociated state of awareness. It allows you to detach from the critical mind and calmly review traumatic events as an impartial observer."

Tonks reluctantly gazed at the flames. "I won't stay detached if I'm in pain."

"I'll cast a spell to block it."

Tonks relaxed and watched the fire. A peaceful silence descended.

Eventually, Healer Wells asked, "Tonks, can you picture yourself at Hogwarts Castle?"

"No."

"Try."

"Everything's dark."

"The darkness is a pair of curtains," Healer Wells said. "Draw them apart and tell me what you see."

Tonks envisioned it. "The castle's like something out of a fairy tale."

"How old are you?"

"Eleven."

"Move forward in time to Hogwarts during the battle. What does it look like?"

"I can't see."

"Put out your hands—"

"I can't move."

"Then listen. What do you hear?"

"Bellatrix."

"What is she saying? Remember there is no pain."

Tonks heard laughter in the darkness.

-

"Wittle Tonksie, Wittle Tonksie, you almost had me a time or two. I wasn't expecting nasty hexes from a nice wittle girl."

Tonks felt something press her arm, brush her face. Bellatrix was kneeling beside her.

"Such potential here, be a shame to throw you away like a broken dolly."

A fingertip tapped Tonks' cheek.

"I'm going to take you and fix you up so I can play with you forever. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Tonks' body rose into the air.

Bellatrix giggled. "Come along, wittle dolly."

-

"No!" Tonks cried.

"Detach from emotion, leave that memory and go back in time to your childhood," Healer Wells said. "Christmas Day. Are you there?"

There was a stocking at the end of her bed. She wouldn't find what she asked for in it. "Yes."

"Tell me, how old are you?"

"Six." A scene took shape before her mind's eye.

She wrote the letter and burned it in the fireplace exactly as Cousin Rita told her. The ashes went up the chimney and travelled to Father Christmas by magic—the only real magic Muggles had.

Healer Wells said, "Go find your parents."

Tonks shook her head.

-

Her parents were probably asleep and didn't know about her secret letter anyway. She jumped out of bed and clattered down the stairs. The present could be under the tree in a box with holes.

When her foot touched the bottom step she heard a low bark and ran toward the sound, through the dining room, into the kitchen. Tonks threw open the back door and saw the best present a girl could ever have.

He wasn't a puppy; he was big and black with the most amazing grey eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his muzzle.

"Nymphadora! Come away from that dog."

Tonks ignored her mother and hugged her new best friend. "No! He's my present from Father Christmas."

"He's a stray. Look. He has no collar."

"We'll buy him one."

"He doesn't belong to us."

"He wants to." She sniffled. "He's lonely."

"He can't stay. You have to let him go."

As if he understood, the dog jerked out of Tonks' hold and dashed across the garden, too fast for her to catch him. She rounded on her mother. "You drove him off!"

Tears streaked her mother's face. "I'm sorry, darling. Truly."

She didn't want to hear apologies. Rage and hurt boiled over. "You ruined Christmas! I'll hate you forever!"

-

"Tonks, blink and become aware of your surroundings."

The Healer's voice severed the link with the past. Tonks sat dazed until Remus' hand covered hers.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I will be." She kissed him and Apparated.

She didn't knock on the door before she opened it, but her mother didn't chastise her for her lack of manners. Tonks said, "I'm so sorry, Mum. I love you—I'll love you forever!"

Andromeda left Teddy sleeping in his cot to meet her daughter with open arms.

-


-

A/N: Is this the end? Not quite. Although my amazing readers are more than capable of imagining what happens next, I'm compelled to write an epilogue. :)

A Hippogriff-sized thank you to the patient and encouraging souls who reviewed the last chapter and waited for this one to post! 14hpl, alix33, Cardboard, Carnivalgirl, Don'tCallMeNymphadora4, doralupin86, excessivelyperky, iheartmoony7, ishandtwofourths, judypkoi, Lira-leigh54, MollyCoddles, Moontime, QuoteGirl, Rose of the West, Siriusmunchkin, southernbelle08, tambrathegreat, Temperance 'Joy' Brennan, TillTheLastRoseDies, vintagejgc and yiota.