Tonks rested on the park bench, a turquoise color that reminded her of the ocean under brilliant summer rays. She let her eyes wander the surface, lingering briefly on the patches that were almost greenish and shaped like islands in the blue. It was her day to catch up on paperwork in the Ministry, which she was secretly grateful for. She'd been feeling nauseous the last couple of mornings and didn't want to venture out into the field. She briefly wondered if she was coming down with the flu.
Without thinking of doing so, she removed one of her black fingerless gloves, letting her fingers fall to the surface, feeling the heat of the day that had soaked into the metal. Only here such a thing could remain, here in the garden. Without even having to look up, she heard the loud crack of her husband Apparating next to the bench, so exactly precise and neat.
"Hey, Dora," he said warmly, stooping low to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. In his hands was the sandwich she'd asked for lunch. "Sorry I'm a little late," he apologized, looking pained. "Your mother wouldn't stop fussing over me and I almost missed our meetup time, love. But I'm here now," he grinned, looking years younger than his age of thirty-five.
Tonks smiled. "I'm starting to think she loves you more than she does me these days, Rem." As she looked at her husband, she knew this to be true, or at least she suspected it. Remus was the one who wrote down everybody's birthdays in a little notebook so they never forgot to send a card, the dependable one who never failed to help clean or do a chore, who had made sure Tonks was well taken care of as his wife. It had taken a while for Ted and Andromeda to come to terms with the fact that Remus was a werewolf, but once they got to witness first-hand for themselves how much he loved their daughter, they came around.
"Thanks, love," she responded shyly, taking a bite of the sandwich, and then a bite of the red apple he'd brought her, hoping that maybe if she ate something, the nausea would fade. "I can't seem to stop eating this morning. I can't remember the last time I was this hungry, it's weird."
He frowned, ever the intuitive man that he was, sensed something with his wife was off. "You all right? You're looking a little pale, sweetheart."
"I'm good," she managed between bites, swallowing back the acidic bile that crept its way up into her throat, taking another bite of apple. "I'm not sick. I feel fine!" she protested. "I just can't seem to stop eating, Rem."
He stared. She could almost see the wheels in his head turning, working on overdrive to try to figure out what might be wrong with her.
There was something solemn swimming in her husband's brown eyes. Their stunning, deep brown held a truth that his face could not hide from her. The despairing look of anguish they conveyed made Tonks feel heartbroken. She looked away, taking another bite of apple. She couldn't bear it. What was usually strength now showed weakness. "We're going."
"Going where?" she asked absentmindedly, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Tonks gave a small, hopefully encouraging smile. He smiled back, and in that moment, she felt like everything was going to be all right, even if it was just for a little while.
"St. Mungo's. If you're feeling sick, we'll get to the bottom of this."
Tonks scoffed and rolled her eyes, stifling a chuckle, though it escaped before she could stop herself. "I don't need a Healer or a doctor, Remus."
"But…" His voice trailed off as he looked into her eyes. He knew better than to argue with Dora. "Fine," he answered stiffly, his tone hard.
Tonks opened her mouth to argue as she stood and flinched at the stiffness in her joints, grabbing her little black canvas purse she used, reaching for her wand. She stumbled as she stood, her equilibrium slightly off balance and would have fallen had Remus not shot out an arm to catch her. With each step backward she took, her stomach tightened and ached even more. She kept swallowing and her throat kept clenching, but no matter what, Tonks could not stop the warm feeling rising in her chest.
Then she could taste it at the back of her mouth. Before she could stop herself or call out to Remus for help, she barely managed to wave her wand and conjure a dark blue basin out of thin air, her stomach dry-heaving, forcing everything up and out, retching until only clear liquid came up, and then nothing at all. Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering and her mouth tasted of bile. "That's disgusting."
"That's it, we're going," her husband managed, gripping her arm firmly, that unusually stern tone that was unlike Remus back and in full force. Tonks's skin went ashen, even paler than usual and she stumbled forward, Remus grabbing her arm in a strong, ironclad vice grip as she faltered. She knew she would faint whenever her stomach gave out like this. It felt like her innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole. The nausea crept from her abdomen to her head and then black.
Her eyesight blurred, but not because tears were welling up. Everything became fuzzy, then she saw nothing at all. Her consciousness was floating through an empty space filled with a thick static. Throughout the inky space, her heartbeat pounded loudly, echoing in her ears, alongside her fading pleas for help and the whoosh of the cold London air as Remus Apparated, still clutching onto his wife's arm in his iron grip. The feeling in her body drained away slowly until finally all was black, and she slept. The last thing she heard was the soothing voice of her husband whispering something into the shell of her ear. If she fought the tides of blackness to hear it, she could hear Remus...speaking to her. "It will be all right, sweetheart. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."
Tonks awoke with a jolt, at first terrified, sheens of sweat on her brown, her pink bangs damp with sweat and clinging to her forehead, or at least, that's what it felt like. Her head rested against an unfamiliar, stiff, starchy pillow that smelled of bleach. She couldn't breathe, it felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was racing and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. But no one was coming.
She would have cried for help, but there was no strength in her voice, just a whisper. Her breaths quivered in short, quick gasps every time she inhaled, her body aching and her cheeks burning with the flush of fever.
Tonks couldn't seem to stop shaking either. Sometimes it was rough, other times she could manage, but every time she'd get close to sleep, a new spell of violent shaking would force her awake. "I'll get better."
She sat up straighter, propping herself against the pillows, feebly rubbing away at her arms in a sickly attempt to cease the unsettling chill that continued to run down her spine and made her skin crawl and flush.
Tonks lay in the unfamiliar bed quietly, keeping her eyes closed. Her legs were numb, and her head felt bruised and battered. Curiosity slowly pried her eyes open to meet a dismal view of a magnolia colored room.
"Eww," she managed weakly, scrunching her nose in disgust. St. Mungo's. Remus hadn't listened to her protests and had taken her anyway.
Her husband sat in the chair next to her, looking like he hadn't slept in hours. She knew immediately the door was locked, and that familiar tingling sensation she would get whenever something felt off, Tonks knew a charm had been over the ward to prevent the patients from Disapparating. She slid her eyes sideways. Beyond her bed at the foot of the mattress was her chart and vital signs, in huge black bold letterings.
Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin.
Status: Stable.
Admittance: July 24th, time of admittance: 12:27 p.m.
Cause of admittance: dip in blood sugar, fainting spell.
Duration: Unknown. Recommend keeping overnight for future testing for observation until condition improves. Husband acting as support person to pick up patient at time of patient's discharge and release. TK.
Tonks didn't know whose initials TK belonged to, but she decided if she met them, they would get a swift punch to their jawline. She didn't belong here; she did not see the need to be kept overnight like a lab rat.
The young witch blearily sat up straighter, propping herself up against the stiffened pillows, the thick blue woolen blanket draped across her lap had been heated and that felt nice, but this wasn't their bedroom at home.
Glancing sideways at the night table next to the hospital room's bed, she could see a few Get Well cards from her colleagues and friends at the Ministry, a few from members of the Order, a small stuffed white bear, probably from Ginny Weasley if she had to hazard a guess at the giver.
A vase of simple but beautiful purple wildflowers, they looked like lilacs sat perched next to her hospital bed. "What the hell happened?"
Wearily, she reached for the water glass at her bedside table. Waves of heat seemed to course through her bloodstream, a cold sweat glistening on her slightly gaunt features. The glass of water was staring at Tonks from its perch on the coaster on the table, beads of condensation forming on the outside of the glass. She took a weak sip and plopped her head back against the pillow, feeling utterly defeated and exhausted, resigning herself to maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea if she were to stay here overnight.
Remus lifted his head, his grip on her left hand tightened slightly as he noticed she was awake. "Hey," he said gently, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're awake," he breathed, sounding immensely relieved.
The look of heartbreak in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
"What happened?" she croaked hoarsely, surprised at how much her throat hurt. She winced as she reached for the water glass and took a sip.
"It's so good to see you. I thought, maybe…how are you feeling?" he demanded suddenly, his handsome face contorting into a frown. "Does your head still hurt? Are you still feeling sick? We're in St. Mungo's, sweetheart. You got sick and passed out and hit your head, but you're okay, I hope. The Healers are still running some tests on you, Dora."
Tonks smiled weakly and nodded, showing Remus that she understood and was fully awake, though it hurt even to do that as she gingerly lifted her hand to study the brilliant moonstone wedding ring she wore proudly on her left hand. "Hey, Dora," Remus's voice spoke up, sounding concerned. "You know you're going to be just fine, right? I promise. I won't let anything happen to you, honey," he said, though his voice cracked slightly.
"I know," she whispered, her knuckles white as she clutched the blanket tighter around herself for warmth. It was unnaturally cold in this bloody hospital room. "I'm just it's just food poisoning or something. Yeah, that's all it is, I bet. But if I'm not okay, then I wanted to say—"
"Don't go there, Dora," he pleaded desperately, pinching his nose with the bridge of his thumb and forefinger, leaning forward slightly in his chair.
"Go where, hon? This is here, there is here, here is now. This is happening," she explained, furrowing her brow as she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Can I finish, hon? Please. Let me talk," Tonks begged, needing to say what was on her mind. "I'm just trying to tell you, that if it's not, we're still okay, you and I. If we have each other, we're okay," she soothed, reaching up her free hand and stroking his light brown hair, the tips of her fingers lingering on his scars as she ran her hand down his cheek. He held her fingers in his and kissed them.
Remus rose from his chair just slightly to plant a gentle but passionate kiss on her lips. As they parted, Tonks saw his brown eyes sparkle and lips curve up into a little half-smile and she couldn't help but smile back.
Her mother had taken to calling her daughter's husband a 'diamond in the rough,' and Tonks knew what that meant. To her, though, Remus John Lupin was simply a diamond. The rest of the wizarding world could be as rough as it desired, but it never seemed to affect her beloved husband. Remus shone with an inner beauty and she let out a tiny sigh.
Though she was physically and emotionally exhausted, she quickly felt herself start to fall asleep in Lupin's arms as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed with her, she knew that if she was with Remus, she was safe. She guessed that was partially why she fell in love with him, that little sparkle in his eyes that made her feel vibrant and alive. Nothing and nobody could ever take that away from her. He was hers, and she was his. Forever.
Their moment alone was interrupted as a young Healer in her early forties opened the door, her set of lime green robes crisp and neat, her dark hair cut short in a stylish pixie, like Tonks' when it wasn't pink.
Her makeup neat and professional, her face said I am someone you can come to for help. White studs in her ears, black slip on clogs on her feet, she swiped Nymphadora's chart off the clipboard and studied it.
"Hey, you two. Mrs. Lupin, how are you? Judging by your appearance, I think you're going to be okay," she said kindly, revealing a white smile.
Poor Remus practically bolted upright from his spot, straightening his button-down shirt and running a hand through his light brown hair in attempt to smooth it. At the far end of Nymphadora's private room were windows in brown metal frames, only able to be opened at the very top.
"Okay what?" demanded Lupin, his tone clipped. "How's my wife?"
"She's fine, Mr. Lupin. No cause to be so alarmed. You're in perfect health," the young witch said, turning her attention to Tonks in the hospital's bed, who identified herself as Megan. In her manicured hands she held a copy of Tonks' charts and waved her wand lazily and a bottle of medication appeared in her hands. "She fainted, but that's expected."
"Really? I'm fine?" Tonks asked, not fully sure if she believed her.
"Really, yes," reassured Megan. "Aside from a very mild concussion from your fall when you passed out, brain function is completely normal. Same with your blood tests we ran while you were unconscious. And the recent stress likely contributed to your passing out this afternoon, but only because you're a tad anemic right now, but that's to be expected, ma'am."
Tonks stared, not getting it. "Wait. What? Why? Why is that to be expected?" she asked, exchanging a quick glance with Remus. One look at her husband was more than enough for her. He was just as lost as she was.
"Well, in your current condition," the Healer explained matter-of-factly. When neither patient nor Remus responded, she blinked owlishly at them for a few moments and ginned. "Oh. Wow," she emphasized, a pink blush speckling its way across her cheeks. "This is awkward, you didn't know, either of you. Yikes," she mumbled, averting Tonks' gaze.
"Know what?" asked Tonks, her curiosity piqued. She sat up a little straighter and held Remus's hand.
"You're expecting," Megan grinned.
"Expecting what?" Remus asked suspiciously, frowning at her.
"A baby," their Healer grinned. "You're pregnant, Mrs. Lupin. About ten weeks along, and the baby is healthy." Tonks felt her eyes grow wide and round and had opened her mouth to ask the doctor a question but a loud outburst from Lupin startled both women out of the happy news.
"What do you mean?" he demanded, and Tonks immediately sensed his temper swelling. "That's—that's not possible!" he shouted, seizing tufts of his hair and tugging on them. He looked quite livid. Like a true wolf.
"Rem, calm down," Tonks pleaded, a hand outstretched, not wanting her husband to cause a scene that might upset the other patients in the ward. "Can we just talk about this later at home after we get out of here?"
He took a deep breath to settle himself and collapsed back into his chair. Their Healer, sensing they needed a moment, slunk out of the room, her smile faltering, her wand clutched tightly between her fingers.
"Rem, there is no pressure on you. I mean…you can be as involved as you want," Tonks whispered. "But I…I'd like to keep it," she said quietly.
"I just…I don't know, I don't understand!" he cried desperately. "I don't understand how this happened, Dora. We—we used a contraceptive spell and I used one of those Muggle condoms you were telling me of."
"I know," she soothed. "I know, but you know, those things only work like ninety seven percent of the time. And for the spell, well, you were…distracted," she confessed, wringing her hands together until they hurt, remembering how passionate that night had been. How impatient he was, she'd wondered if he'd finished the spell.
"What? WHAT?" he bellowed. In a fit of anger, he waved his wand angrily and conjured the box Tonks had forced him to buy, squinting his eyes to read the tiny print."Well, then, they should put that little fact on the box, don't you think?" he shouted.
"They do!" Tonks protested, shoving her knuckles into her mouth. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry at seeing how panicked he was over this. They were going to have a baby, start their own family. This was something to celebrate, not condemn.
"NO THEY DON'T!" he shouted, his face draining of color, his gaze still fixated on the box. "Well, then...they should put it in huge black letters!" he cried, venom in his voice as he irately waved his wand and made the box vanish.
"Let's—let's talk later," Tonks pleaded, desperately not wanting to cause a scene. That was the last thing they needed.
Remus nodded, his face draining of color, still running his hands through his hair. A light seemed to ignite in his eyes as he looked at his wife. It was she who needed him to be the calm one right now, not the other way around. "What can I do for you, sweetheart? What do you need?" he demanded, coming over to sit on the edge of her bedside.
"Just shut up and hold me," she joked, feeling the beginnings of a smile creep onto her face as her husband without a word engulfed her in his arms. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but she knew that she would never let him go.
Somehow, she knew everything would be ok.
