CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Her vision slowly but surely cleared.

Tonks felt her heavy eyelids flutter open as she blearily awoke to the frigid cold of a room whose walls were painted white.

There were flowers, beautiful oil paintings, leather chairs, and soft music.

The young witch lay there quietly a moment, keeping her eyes closed, willing her breaths to slow down until her wave of nausea passed her as she fought back the urge to vomit.

What in Merlin's beard kind of medication had they given her? The only indications of her heartbeat, her existence, that she had not somehow died, was the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her legs felt numb.

Curiosity slowly pried her swollen eyes open to meet the dismal view of the door across from her bed, the door a dark navy blue color. Tonks knew immediately that the door was locked, sealed with protective enchantments, that this was to keep her in here, not them out.

Them being Remus Lupin and her parents.

Outside this room could be anything, anyone. There was nothing even to mark the time. Would someone come in five minutes or five hours? Days? Would she even know the difference by that point? She slid her eyes sideways. Short but plenty deep cuts ran along her arms, beyond that was her chart.

Name: Nymphadora Tonks

Status: Unstable

Admittance: 3:45 a.m.

Cause of admittance: multiple lacerations, Splinched arm. Shown signs of nerve damage to her wand hand. Requires extensive physical therapy. A danger to self, others.

Diagnosis: Unknown. Recommend keeping overnight for 2-3 days for observation. Will reassess patient needs if the mental and physical condition improves.

Duration: Unknown.

Known caretakers: Andromeda Tonks (mother), Edward Tonks (father), Remus Lupin (partner and designated guardian.)

Tonks could not stop the scowl at seeing the label of 'partner' by Remus's name, though her eyes were currently fixated under the 'diagnosis' tab, and her eyes widened in shock and horror at the thought of spending yet one more minute in this unfamiliar room that smelled like bleach. She had had a partner…

"Ollie," she whispered, unable to stop the crack and dip in her voice as visions of the young Auror's face flitted through her mind, and she ground her jaw.

No. You're not going to let this new man Dumbledore assigned you to go the same way as him, remember?

Her conscience prodded her to forget thoughts of Ollie for now and forced herself to return her attention to the more pressing matter at hand: her imprisonment here.

2-3 days?! Trapped in St. Mungo's?!

Tonks could remember not liking the lead Healer that had been assigned to treat her, though she was blanking on the man's name. He was thin and ginger, that was all the young Auror needed to know.

His voice came out like he had a grass reed for a tongue, and he was way too skinny for Tonks to be able to fully trust this guy.

He walked like his damn legs were stilts with a hinge at the knees. When he had come in earlier to check on her, finding her just barely cognizant of her surroundings and had spoken to her, Tonks had found her gaze inexplicably drawn to the man's balding head.

Too small, she'd thought. He can't get much of a brain in there, can he? When he had changed the dressings on her hand, she had to bite down on her tongue to keep from screaming, and the moment the Healer had put the sling on her wand arm, the very same one that had been Splinched, Tonks had wanted to reach right out of her bed and snatch the concerned look right off his damned freckled face. A strong slap might be enough, though.

She wanted to block out the man's words, but she remembered her new partner had been watching her. And she had not wanted to appear rude, so she'd bitten her tongue, stayed silent.

"You're going to be in excellent hands here at St. Mungo's, Miss Tonks," he had said, and the Healer had exchanged a knowing little look with Remus. "Is there anything we can do to make your stay here more comfortable, miss?"

Yes, she'd said in a rare fit of meanness. You can let me out of here and let me go home. Though the man had laughed off her comment as sarcasm, though it had been Lupin who had come to Tonks's defense, claiming not to upset her and do anything further to exacerbate her injuries, which she'd not anticipated.

Tonks's gaze had remained fixated on Remus, however, whose gaze kept nervously darting back and forth between her as she lay propped up against several pillows, and that of the Healer, who did not seem to notice his growing angst.

She had not been able to understand why her new partner, a man who barely knew her, had taken such an intense interest in her own personal well-being.

Tonks had remembered her uninjured hand curling into a fist underneath the heated blanket the Healer had carefully draped over her lap and tucked it securely.

She knew now why she hated his guts. He was just like that guy that had tried to take her on a date back when she'd attended Hogwarts.

Untrustworthy filthy liar.

She seethed and bit her cheek as she cursed the scrawling initials of the Healer that had signed the order at the bottom of her chart.

Tonks furrowed her brows into a frown and moved her fingers behind her head and felt the soft pillow, and it was only then that she felt the trembling in her wand hand, and when she removed her hand from out from underneath her, she bit the inside wall of her cheek, blinking back tears, as she lifted her shaking hand to study the extent of the damage, to pray to Merlin Above that the chart was wrong. She attempted to make a fist and flex her fingers.

Big mistake. White-hot searing pain shot up her arm like a bolt of lightning. Her hand was shaking so badly, she doubted she could even get a grip on a coffee mug or a quill, much less that of her wand, whenever she was well enough to travel to Ollivander's to buy a new one. Damn. She blinked back tears.

This…this wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Why her?! Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek to keep from crying out in pain.

Her body felt strangely numb and yet at the same time, it ached all over. Her mind churned as she struggled to regulate her breaths to something that resembled normalcy, already clamoring for relief to come to her. Merlin, what she wouldn't give for just a shot of Fire Whiskey. Anything to dull and numb the pain, make her forget.

Glancing upward from the pristine white bed with the heated blanket draped over her lap that she found herself in, Tonks desperately tried to steady herself, attempting to comprehend what was going on around her and what part of St. Mungo's she was in. What floor, what ward she was being detained in.

Where Remus Lupin and her parents were. Tonks bit down on her tongue and felt her brows knit together in quandary.

She was sure, yes, she was sure, that several hours ago, she could have sworn she heard the three of them arguing, though about what, Tonks didn't know, but she was curious to know the answer for herself.

Perhaps if my new partner visits later, he'll tell me the truth…

Tonks had asked to see him, and for reasons unknown for her, the St. Mungo's staff was not allowing Lupin to see her, which she did not understand why that was.

There was a small part, perhaps foolishly so, that had hoped he would be here when she woke up. At least then, she would have had someone to talk to and she did not get a chance to properly thank him.

She wanted to do it now, while she was awake and was able to think more clearly, now that she was, for the moment, out of the worst of her danger, but he had not shown up to see her yet this morn.

She could only pray for it. He had saved her life. And she hadn't exactly gotten to properly thank the man. Though she was not entirely sure if she trusted him fully yet, Tonks, even in her state of semi-deliriousness in the woods, hadn't been able to detect a single trace of malice or deceit in the man's light brown eyes.

He'd gotten that strange look in his eyes when I tried to thank him.

At that thought, she furrowed her brows into a frown. Though she had no spare time to dwell on the strange expression she'd seen last night in her partner's eyes when she had whispered thank you to him in her moment of lucidity before she had passed out again.

As though a woman had never thanked him before in his life.

Tonks winced and bit the inside wall of her cheek as her legs felt shaky and were she not already lying down if she had been standing, she felt sure she would have fainted.

Tonks clenched her eyes shut as her face contorted as a painful spasm shot its way up her wand hand and traveled all the way up and down her spine.

Never before in her life had she experienced such horrible pain. Like ever.

Tonks could feel her head—or was that the room? —spinning ultimately, as her jaw locked and clenched up tightly and she collapsed back against her many pillows in horribly fatigued exhaustion.

Tonks let out a tiny groan and there was a horrible constricting on her throat, like the weight itself was sucking out her last possible breath.

The young subdued Auror sighed, her once tranquil face now seeming like she was struggling to breathe, and you could see it in her haunted gray orbs.

Slowly, the pressure within her throat tightened. Tonks struggled to sit up straighter against her pillows, her fingers curling into a tight fist around the strangely soft goose feather down blanket, the softest damned blanket she'd ever felt in her life, and she knew that the St. Mungo's staff carried no such blanket. Did—did Lupin give me this, then? Tonks wondered, frowning.

She glanced down at the strange blanket draped and securely tucked over her lap, they must have done it when she'd still been asleep. Strange. Very weird…

Tonks knew for a fact the St. Mungo's staff used no such blankets when the Healers were making their rounds.

So where did this come from, then? Remus?

The young witch heaved a groan and put her shaking, uninjured hand to her forehead. Her poor head from where the back of her skull had hit the ground when she'd accidentally Disapparated into that stupid ravine throbbed and hurt.

It hurt as hell. The pain felt like someone had taken another knife to her skull. She rested her back against the pillow. Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed hard past the growing lump in her throat and the swells of nausea that churned her stomach, silently willing and pleading for the pain and hurt go leave her be.

The ache was dull as if some lazy torturer were standing right behind her, applying just enough pressure to be an annoyance.

The rest of her world here in the sequestered private room in St. Mungo's had become detached completely.

All Tonks could concentrate on was the pain rooted deep in her head. She could barely hear the other voices speaking lowly just outside her room's door.

No doubt someone coming to check on her. She could not stop the small flicker of hope that ignited as a small ember flame in the confines of her chest.

Tonks hoped that it would be Remus. She needed to thank the man already so her conscience could be at peace with the role he had played in saving her life.

Everything was a hazy blur. All she felt, all she knew, was the pain in her head, of this moment.

The young Auror let out another moan and glanced around her room at the strange, unfamiliar surroundings of her private room in St. Mungo's.

No lights were on to provide light, nor were any candles or fires lit to provide warmth, and as a result, the room was bathed in shadow, but a man's face burned as bright as midnight torches, black against white.

"You," she snarled angrily.

Tonks wildly glanced to her left and right to see if there was anything on the night table worth throwing at Professor Snape.

Nothing there.

Good for Snivellus then, I guess, she thought, pissed, as she dared to lift her chin as much as possible. The young witch bit the inside wall of her cheek and furrowed her brows into a frown. Tonks swallowed nervously as the man pointed his wand at the door.

"Muffliato!" he called out in his usual monotone, drawling voice of his before stowing his wand back in his pocket.

In his hands, he twirled methodically and slowly a tiny glass vial containing an unfamiliar liquid to Nymphadora. Poison?! He—he can't be serious. He wouldn't. Dumbledore would murder him himself if he touched another Order member, or—or Lupin probably would, way he was acting last night during… she thought, feeling panic rise within her.

Damn. Tonks clenched her jaw in anger, though she dared not avert her gaze.

Whatever Snape wanted to say or do to her, he would have complete control over her to do.

Tonks swallowed nervously as Professor Snape slowly emerged out of the shadows and towards her bed, as she could practically see the loathing that spiraled in the man's blackened eyes, no doubt a result of the trouble she'd caused him.

She had been hoping that perhaps Mum or Dad would be by her side, or her new partner, Remus, when she woke, but now, as she looked into those jet-black inky pools that were the Potions Professor's eyes, Tonks was unnerved, given that the only emotion she could currently discern in the man's orbs was disdain and dislike.

A hatred for her, of which Tonks felt she was undeserving of.

As she had done nothing wrong. Or…had she? She couldn't quite remember. She must have hit her head more than she thought.

"Wh—what are you doing in here?" she snarled, cringing as she struggled to sit up, as her Splinched arm in its damned sling was preventing her from moving as comfortably as she'd have liked.

Tonks knitted her brows together in confusion and felt one arch in Snape's general direction as she bluntly refused to avert her gaze from those listless eyes.

"Are you hear to yell at me, Snape? Do you want to hear that I'm sorry? Well, I'm sorry. There I said it. What else do I have to convince you?"

Snape furrowed his black brows into a frown and scowled, keeping his arms folded across his chest. "Die." He said it so casually, so matter-of-factually, that caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

Tonks scowled and knitted her brows together in confusion and agitation. "Oh, very clever, Snivellus, that's so original," she spat, disgusted. "Eat any good books lately?" she snapped, feeling her temper swell in agitation, though she refused to avert her gaze first.

Nor he, it would seem, from hers. There was something else in the Potions Master's black eyes, much like her father tended to take on a darkened hue whenever he was angry about something (which, thank Merlin, was very rare).

Something that Tonks was not quite sure she could identify. Something that strangely resembled hatred and frustration and even worse…a burning animosity.

For her.

Tonks gulped, blinking. She did not know how to react or call for help with no wand, and even if her wand weren't damaged beyond repair, then there was the matter of the incessant, uncontrollable shaking of her wand hand.

It would be futile for her to even attempt utterance and casting of a spell or jinx to get this greasy-haired maggot-infested scum out of her room if she couldn't even hold her wand steady. The jinx could backfire and hit her instead.

Nope. Her best way out of this unpleasant surprise encounter was to annoy him enough to get him to want to leave of his own volition, but… She could not help but ask him again, hoping to prompt him to answer.

"Why are you here, Snape?" she asked again, unable to keep the note of bitterness from seeping into her tone, feeling her words drip as venomous honey from her tongue.

Tonks inhaled a sharp breath of cold air that wafted in through the open barred window as a shaft of sunlight momentarily illuminated the room.

The young witch blinked owlishly as she glowered up at the Potions Professor and it was only when the ray of sunlight fell on Snape that Tonks realized with a heavy pit forming in her stomach that Snape's right hand was pushing down against her pillow, just beside her left ear, and his left hand lingered above the pale column of her throat, which was highly inappropriate, causing her to frown.

Snape's spindly fingers did not move from her throat and Tonks's one good hand, her fingers had not moved in a pitiful attempt to force his hand off of her.

Instead, she emanated a tense exhale and forced her body to relax, closing her eyes as if Professor Severus Snape were the hooded figure of Death Himself, come to take her to that place in the sky above like an old friend.

Do it, then, she told him in impossible telepathy, knowing that he was probably using his Occlumency skills on her even now. Get it over with, Snivellus. Go on. Kill me.

Tonks felt a tremor of fear and something that could only be described as fury as she felt the goose feather down blanket slowly slide to the floor, and she made a mad dive for the blanket and failed to latch onto the damned heated blanket.

This sweet, precious heated blanket was the only barrier that separated Snape against her body. Snape frowned and crinkled his nose at Tonks in disgust.

"You must be truly out of your mind, Nymphadora, if you think that's what I'm here for. You must have hit your head harder than I was led to believe, but luckily for me, I'm no longer your partner and thank Merlin for that. Let the wolf share in your miserable suffering, and if you're lucky, the dog will share your bed and do us all a favor and maybe he'll give you his fleas and they'll make themselves a home in that rat's nest you dare to call your hair, Tonks. Only a wolf would dare to be with a bitch. You and Remus are perfect for one another. I couldn't be happier. Truly." he spat poisonously, sounding thoroughly disgusted and repulsed by such an idea.

She felt her jaw drop open as she bristled as Severus Snape's poisonous words.

Tonks could feel her shoulders tense and her teeth bare at the insult, though considering by this point in her adult life, she was used to such treatment from Snape, and if truth be told, she was still feeling rather miserable, she had no comeback to retort and merely opted to favor silence as the only apt response.

He made her so incredibly angry. The two of them were a complete mismatch as partners in the Order right from the start.

A poor calculation of error on Dumbledore's part. Snape seemed constantly determined to ruin her life and was so bloody damned good at it.

She hated Snape so very much, with every fiber of her being. Their 'relationship,' if Tonks could even call it that, was not pleasant.

It was verbally abusive with how often the two of them traded insults like it was a Quidditch match, with each keeping score, bordering on physically abusive at times, unfortunately, though Tonks knew not all the fault lay with Snape.

They were both guilty of it. Tonks didn't like that Snape brought out an aggressive side to her personality, one that she actively sought to keep buried deep within herself.

What was wrong with them?!

Both of them…he hated her, and yet, here he was, in her room, alone, and looking quite like he wanted to strangle her now.

Snape, Tonks thought, was looking rather haggard, if judging by the darkened circles under the insufferable man's eyes was anything for the Auror to go off.

Even more so than usual, which was really saying something for the greasy-haired sleazeball trash. Though, something the man said gave her pause. "He's…"

Oh, I knew it! Remus Lupin is a werewolf. That would explain the scars on his face, and his surly attitude last night gave the full moon ended five nights ago.

Tonks winced as she could feel her eyes become wide and round with shock as the full realization and the reasons for her new partner's strange behavior hit her as though she had been doused in ice water.

Though Tonks did not let on to the Potions Master that she had figured out why her new partner in the Order had acted so hostile last night, not just towards her resisting his help, to her parents as well. It was all coming back to her now. Tonks paused and frowned.

It was not her business to reveal to Remus

that she had figured out what she knew was perhaps his darkest kept secret, and for a brief moment, she felt a stab of pity prick at her heart for the man.

She could not fathom what kind of life he must be living, nor did she particularly want to envision it for herself right now.

Right now, she had a bigger problem, and that problem's name was Snape.

Tonks knew that, in his own time, when Remus was comfortable and opened up to her more, she hoped that one day, he would be willing to confide in her.

Until then, she would wait for him to come to her, but for now…

Need to get Snape out of my room before he tries anything stupid. Or I do, she thought.

Tonks swallowed nervously and licked her lips, wanting to put an end to their conversation.

"Then why are you here, Snivellus?" she shouted, her gray eyes flashing.

The fact that Professor Snape still had not removed his hand from her throat sent a swell of a riot in her mind. She could—she could scream. Call for help. Call for Remus.

Tonks bit the inside wall of her cheek as she could see the perspiration that glistened on Severus's dark brows, currently furrowed in a frown, his inhales, the faint stench of fading red wine on his breath, made her crinkle her nose in disgust, and she knew that Severus had seen it for himself.

Tonks decided that calling for help would prove a wasted effort, as no one would hear it until the Muffliato Spell had run its course, so she had no choice.

The young witch would have to hear the Potions Master out, to listen to him.

She let out a hiss as the palm of his hand felt startlingly smooth against the skin of her bruised and battered collarbones, how they were cold and practically trembling with anger told Nymphadora Tonks one thing.

That Snape's foundations were his own fury and pain, his own burden to bear by himself, and it all currently dripped as poisonous venom to her throat, which he held hostage.

Tonks steeled the muscles in her face, actively refusing to avert her gaze first.

So long as she appeared neutral, then everything would be fine, and Severus Snape would have no reason to hate her, though the Auror knew he didn't need one.

Through a swirl of sickening fears raging like an angry storm at sea inside her aching and throbbing head, came her mum's voice, casual and light, forever the optimistic one, whereas her father, Ted, tended to take a more pessimistic stance on the world and the way that it was heading, as the wizarding community prepared for war against Lord Voldemort and his followers, even if they didn't know it.

As usual, from Mum she could not hide her problems for more than a few seconds, but what in Merlin's name could she do in this little situation, pray to tell?

Nymphadora Tonks was trained to mask panic with apathy the day that she was old enough to learn of the Unforgiveable Curses when she was six years old.

And how she learned how some of the wizarding community treated her father, Ted. Called him a Mudblood, mocked him behind his back, teased him.

Though Tonks could not help but cling to that last shred of hope that burned as a small flickering ember flame in her chest. Just a tiny flicker against the wind.

But it was enough.

She still held out hope that there was even the remotest chance that someone as foul as Snape could change, and perhaps while she was not hoping for a reconciliation of what had happened last night, she had been foolish to assume to think that he would not have wanted to address it with her, and now…this.

Tonks was beginning to wonder if thinking along these lines was a mistake, not giving in to the Potions Professor's ire like this because she let out a breathy little squeak as the man's strong fingers gripped around her neck deeper.

She felt her lips part open as she gave out a tiny cough, struggling to draw in more air. Tonks felt her gaze become steel and cold as she glowered at Snape.

Do it, she challenged angrily, knowing full well he was using his Legilimency right now. If you've got the gall, then kill me. End my misery right now, Snivellus.

Tonks gasped and choked with the vain effort to remove the man's fingers from her throat, clawing pitifully at his hands with her one good hand, and it was only when she started coughing that Snape's eyes widened as he realized what he was doing, and he immediately relinquished his grip upon Tonks's throat, as though the very feel of her skin against his own had…burned him, somehow.

Snape stumbled backward a few steps, and upon seeing a chair tucked away in the corner of the room, seemed to think that more efficient than standing and lingering in the shadows with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl formed.

He closed off the gap of space between his current location by Tonks's bedside and the corner of the room.

Snape's frown deepened as the chair's legs noisily scraped along with the linoleum tile of the room, though he seemed to have forgotten he'd cast the Muffliato charm on the door.

Severus did not speak to Tonks until he'd gotten himself situated in the chair next to her bed and glowered at her.

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes, his lips pursed into a thin line. "I don't think I need to explain to you why your behavior last night was so incredibly stupid, Nymphadora," he spat venomously, his baritone voice echoing like thunder on Tonks's ears.

A tense and tired exhale escaped the Potions Master, that was quickly drowned out by the sound of the young Auror turning her head to the side and coughing, gasping for air, one hand clutching her throat, and she flinched as she could practically feel the indentations where his fingers had left markings.

Remus won't be happy about this if he finds out about this and he sees the markings later when he visits. IF he visits me, she thought and bit the inside wall of her cheek, furrowing her brows into a frown as she still struggled to process the fact that her new partner was a werewolf.

She supposed that would explain his possessiveness towards her last night, and why the man hadn't stopped fretting.

Tonks wildly continued coughing and inhaling the air in the room until her heartbeats resumed their normal rhythm, and she sighed and closed her eyes, collapsing her head back against the pillow as she tried to force her body to relax in its movements, the fingers of her good hand resuming tight fists around the blanket that she hastily picked off the floor and draped it back over her thighs.

The way Snape's black eyes burned as lit coals and when they narrowed to mere slits and resembled the slit-like pupils of the snake she knew the Head of Slytherin House to be, sent a shiver of revulsion down Tonks's spine as she glared.

Normally, Nymphadora had never approved of insults to describe someone like Severus Snape, who Tonks firmly believed was not necessarily worth the effort.

It seemed too far cruel for someone who she knew had more to offer. There was more to Snape.

Tonks could see it. "You have sad eyes, Snape," she remarked coldly, a muscle in her jaw twitching as she watched Severus startle.

And on that observation, she was not incorrect, necessarily. He did.

There was a tinge of melancholia in the man's black eyes, so at least Tonks could determine that Snape felt something other than unbridled rage and animosity.

Though what that 'thing' was, only Severus knew, and it was his business, and his alone.

"Is that why I'm here?" he snapped, still keeping his arms crossed. "To talk about our feelings?" he spat, Snape's cold and listless gaze fixated on Nymphadora.

"I don't know, Severus, why are you here. I assume it's not for the pleasure of my company, though I'm told it's exquisite." She grimaced as she offered him a charming white smile, which he did not react to. Her smile faltered and her frown instantly returned. "You tell me, Snape. Why did you come to see me? What is it that you want?"

Tonks tried to shrug her shoulders but found it painful and difficult with her Splinched arm in its sling, which she was to wear a few weeks.

However, now as Tonks blinked owlishly at the sallow-faced, raven-haired man who she had once been forced to call her partner, she could think of no other word for Snape other than to call him a git.

His dark silhouette seemed like he towered over her, even while sitting in his chair like he was, the faint light streaming in from the open window coming to rest on his face, bathing half his face in light, the other in shadow.

It seemed to take Snape an eternity to find his voice.

"Why did you leave?" His voice was unusually quiet and soft, with no malice.

Tonks was quite flustered and could not immediately form an apt response.

The pink-haired Auror could come up with no other term than to describe Snape now in his current agitated state.

Snakelike, she thought and shivered.

Her fingers tightened on the blanket as she snuggled deeper underneath it, though Tonks let out a muffled squeak of fear as Snape shouted it at her again.

"Have you gone deaf now, Nymphadora? I asked you a question. Answer it." He growled, and Tonks shivered at the use of her first name, which had poured unchecked and unprovoked from the man's lips as she thought of why he was here, and when he did not repeat himself, Tonks could only blink at the man.

Snape was…truly something of a contradiction, Tonks knew. He claimed not to care, and yet, he was here, seemingly of his own volition to share in a dialogue with her.

Why?! The one question as an Auror that she always tried to answer first when trying to ascertain a Dark Wizard's motives for committing a crime. Why?

Why was Snape here? Why did he want to talk to her, and what did he want?

The one question that Tonks could not answer, and she knew now as she looked into the Potions Master's black eyes devoid of all feeling except for one.

A burning animosity for her.

Tonks swallowed nervously as she realized there was no way out of this…

She was well and truly trapped. With him...