12
MAGGIE drew in a sharp breath that pained her lungs as she stared at the young woman with the short, shaggy light ash brown hair she had heard so much tell of among the other patrons in the Three Broomsticks.
She had not believed them, the rumors at first, hence what had brought her out here to see for herself if they held any small semblance of truth. Her fingers twitched as she dove into the pocket of her black coat for her wand, resisting the urge to pull her wand and announce her presence, but the young thirty-two-year-old just couldn't.
Not yet. Not with Barty Crouch Jr., that witless worm, that snake, stalking her every movement alongside the edges of the white rose bushes, much like a panther would stalk its prey.
She was momentarily startled at how much Auror Nymphadora Tonks looked like her sister.
Maggie squeezed her eyes tightly shut and swallowed the lump in her throat, shoving aside thoughts of her for now.
Do not think in such odious terms of her. She cannot help it that she resembles her, wretched little banshee, though Miss Tonks is, the fault is not her own making. Do not do this to yourself. It will only bring you more grief. Not that I care one way or another what happens to you, Prewitt.
A familiar droll baritone spoke up inside her mind, not bothering to physically speak, and Maggie did not even have to look behind her to know that her old colleague, Professor Snape, was standing patiently waiting, hands clasped in front of him, an expression of displeasure etched on his pallid features.
Slowly, almost sanguinely, Maggie turned at the waist, lowering her wand hand and resting her arm at her side.
It had been a long time since she had last encountered Severus.
Not since before… She thought, though she allowed the voices inside her head to trail off. Maggie crinkled her nose as she regarded the Hogwarts Potions Master with furrowed eyebrows as she glared at him.
"Professor Snape," Maggie muttered in a tone that suggested to the Potions Professor immense dislike to see him.
And he would not be wrong in that regard.
Severus Snape had ultimately played a hand in destroying the one good thing in her life by associating with the likes of Barty Crouch Jr., whose life debt needed to be repaid with that of his blood.
Everyone else in her life was long since dead, and Maggie knew better than most not to look back, not even once. That to move forward meant to stay alive. But…James, Lily, her father, all of them. Gone.
And oh, her sister, her sister, don't even get her started on what had happened… "Because of you," she growled, her eyes darkening as they landed on Barty Crouch Jr., the source of her nightmares most evenings.
Maggie was now the only one left alive and standing. Maggie considered herself lucky to have survived on her own for as long as she had. Any number of things could have happened to a young woman only a few years away from thirty.
While traveling alone (not necessarily her favorite method, but certainly one of the most efficient, by far) had certainly helped. She considered herself to be in good shape.
Agile, quick dueling reflexes. She took odd jobs in Diagon Alley where she could, though never maintained a single job for more than six months, constantly on the go.
Sooner or later, however, she knew what she needed the most was social interaction. Other people, that in the long run, Maggie could not live her life alone forever, though it was easier for the short term since the further distance and a cold detachment she maintained to any people she did happen to stumble across, it meant she wouldn't get her heart broken when Crouch or perhaps even the Dark Lord himself killed them, tortured them to the point of insanity, sending their minds insane.
It was just…easier to stay alone and on her own. Easier, but harder for sure. Maggie sighed, stiffening as Professor Snape shot her a concerned but stern look, and silently held out his arm for the young brunette witch to take.
Not here, he communicated in his impossible telepathy, no doubt having witnessed the longing look in the young witch's face as her dark brown eyes cast towards Crouch Jr.
Maggie bit down on her bottom lip, silently seething as she cast her gaze towards the Potions Professor, and heaved a barely audible sigh of defeat and numbly nodded, latching onto the sleeve of Severus's black robes and allowing herself to be escorted via Side-Along Apparition back to the town of Cokeworth, to Spinner's End, to discuss the terms of their arrangement with one another Snape mentioned in his letter.
Maggie righted herself as the dizziness slowly subsided, a side effect of Apparition, as Professor Snape had transported them directly into the sitting-room of his own townhome, where the young former Ravenclaw could not shake the chill, a feeling of dread as it crept down her spine as she looked around at her new surroundings with a sense of bewilderment.
The room had the feeling of a dark padded prison cell. The walls were completely lined with bookcases, the shelves covered with books, most of the works bound in old black or brown leather. A threadbare sofa, an old armchair, and a rickety wooden table laden with a tin decanter of what smelled like spiced wine and a pound of grain cake rested on a plate.
All of these things were grouped together in a pool of dim light that was cast by a candle-filled lamp that hung from the ceiling. The home had an air of neglect, as though it was not usually inhabited, and Maggie knew that, given the nature of Snape's job, both as Potions Master at Hogwarts, and undercover Death Eater for the Order, that he was not.
Sit. Again, Severus spoke, though not with his words. Maggie bristled at the Legilimens unnecessary probing into her mind as she caught sight of her reflection in a dusty mirror coated with grime and Merlin only knew what bloody else.
Maggie tore her gaze away, not wanting to look. Battered, their community called it. Such a simple word for a simple idea. But this, what Severus was asking of her, was not simple. Her sense of self, once a high and proud feeling, a feeling of one destined for good things, as her older sister once had, now felt as bruised as her abdomen and as dirty as the mirror she now stood in front of, transfixed to this very spot.
Her outfit, a black winter coat, black skinny jeans, and black leather knee high heeled boots, was well put together. Maggie declined the offer to remove her coat when Snape made a jerking motion with his head towards the coat rack, his wand in hand, ready to set her coat aside if she wished it, and Maggie shook her head no, merely proceeding to shove her hands in the pockets of her jacket, making no move to sit in the chair, still transfixed upon that of her own sad reflection.
She reached up and wiped away the dried blood from her pallid skin, the result of a cut just above her left browbone, and stared into her own empty dark brown eyes, feeling cold.
Maggie barely recognized herself. Who was that staring back at her now and why did she stay? Who was she?
She really was a pretty witch at age thirty-two, not beautiful in a classical way, no flowing golden curls, or piercing eyes of green. Maggie was shorter than average, but in her ordinariness, she was a stunning young woman.
Her pale skin cut from the finest of pearls, a slender petite figure that not even her thick black winter coat could conceal from view as her cheeks burned as she caught Snape looking at her.
Maggie blushed and sharply turned her head away, still feeling like the sallow-faced Potions Master's piercing stare was burning a hole in the back of her skull as she reached up a hand to tuck back a wisp of her thick wavy brown bob that fell in natural waves and curls just to the ends of her chin.
There was something from within the young witch that radiated from within that rendered Maggie irresistible to both genders. Men tended to desire her when they followed her backside whenever she was out in Diagon Alley, and women sought to always be her friend, but none of that mattered now. More to the point, besides, why was she here?
"Because I need your help, witch. That, and that alone is the only reason that I requested an audience with you," grumbled Severus Snape in a tone that sounded curt and clipped, on the brink of having his patience tested as he rested.
He sat somewhat awkwardly in his leather armchair and waved his wand almost lazily with a flick of his wrist, so that the tin decanter of red elvish made wine floated in midair and poured two glasses of dark crimson wine, the second glass floating slowly towards Maggie.
The young woman reached up and plucked the wine glass from the air, raising the glass to her lips and drank, consistently studying Severus Snape cautiously over the rim of her glass, finally relenting and sitting, unable to detect any hint of malice in the Potions Master's eyes. Merely disdain.
Maggie almost snorted at that as she collapsed against the threadbare sofa and rested her wine goblet on a small wooden night table next to the sofa. She would hear him out. At the very least.
She let out a defeated sigh and leaned forward slightly in her chair, lacing her long fingers together.
"Is there really no other way?" Maggie asked, pausing as she watched Severus raise his goblet to his lips to drink.
She sat across the way, confused by the sudden halt of his movements as Severus paused, who had been about to take a sip of wine, and now was regarding her with a look of rancor.
There was something about the young witch's voice which made the Potions Master listen, and Severus knew he had been right in sending an owl to her the moment he had received correspondence from Sirius Black informing him of the wretched werewolf's intentions to go after Nymphadora.
There was something strong, determined, unfazed about Maggie's voice. He closed his eyes before looking up at the young woman who he had not seen in quite some time.
Several years, as a matter of fact. There was no denying it, that Maggie was a pretty witch. Dark chocolate brown hair, luscious strands that cascaded to just past her chin cut in a thick bob, which highlighted her pale, oval face, high cheekbones, and exceptional jawline. Delicately waxed and arched eyebrows though currently were furrowed together in a frown as she looked at him in confusion whilst waiting for Severus to find his words.
Black hair perhaps would have been better, but… Severus heaved a haggard sigh as he looked once more at the spirited young witch of thirty-two. No, there was more to this one than that, and like it or not, she was like Tonks. Maggie was beautiful, yes, even a bloody fool could see it.
You would have to be blind not to, but it was in such a subtle way wherein the sort of way where if you were fortunate enough to be observant (as Severus was) then you would look twice at the witch now seated opposite him on his sofa and see a strong spirit. This was a good thing, he rationalized quickly.
It meant that he had, in fact, called upon the right person. But it also meant that it would make it that much more dangerous for Nymphadora if Maggie agreed to help them.
But it also made it much more of a possibility, and the likelihood of her succeeding was greater than any scheme he could concoct in order to help keep Crouch away from Tonks.
Maggie narrowed her dark brown eyes as she noticed Severus Snape staring at her melancholically, a pensive look on his face as he took advantage of the awkward silence that hung in the air between them to take another sip of red wine.
"There is a way, yes," he muttered at last before setting down his wine goblet and folding his arms across his chest as he fixed the young brunette witch with a pointed stare. "But I can guarantee you that you are not going to like it, witch."
Maggie waved away Severus's comment with a curt wave of her hand, dismissing his claims and sniffing in annoyance, wishing for the Potions Master to get to the point.
"You agree to my terms? Payment in advance," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows towards Snape in defiance.
"Yes," replied Severus in a nonchalant manner, shrugging his shoulders as he waved his wand and a pouch containing her ten thousand Galleon fees appeared in her lap. "But you are well aware of what this means. That in exchange for securing the Auror's release from Mr. Crouch's estate, that the man will likely not let you leave if he discovers you were the one who helped in orchestrating that banshee's escape…"
Maggie stared incredulously in disbelief at the Potions Master, hardly daring to believe what the man asked of her.
Severus continued speaking, ignoring the look of daggers the young brunette witch was currently shooting him.
"Usually, you would need a reference from myself or any of the other Death Eaters that are under Crouch's command to get within a foot of his family's estate, but considering he does not know who you are, you could probably get away with it. I overheard Rookwood saying in a meeting just last week that Crouch worried that Miss Tonks was growing lonely and could use a companion of the ah, female sort, shall we say. You would pose as an old friend of the Auror's, and when the timing is right, you will flee with her to the Forest of Dean and reunite that wretched succubus with her old partner, a werewolf by the name of Remus John Lupin, but I don't need to provide introductions, do I? You and Lupin already know one another," he growled, and Maggie's ears perked up at the note of dislike in the man's tones, though whether it was for this Tonks woman or for Augustus Rookwood, she did not know, nor did she care.
"She still won't speak to me, Severus," Maggie murmured in a low, small-sounding voice barely above a whisper that cracked and faltered, as her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms, and she blinked back the onset of a beginning wave of tears that threatened to escape her lids.
Maggie squeezed her eyes tightly shut, unable to sit still and bolted from her spot on Severus Snape's sofa, and began restlessly pacing, the heels of her black leather boots making an audible clicking noise as she paced.
Back and forth, back, and forth, this went on in a repeated motion until Snape let out a sigh and motioned for the young witch to sit down again. She did so, though she started rocking forward and it was not enough, and the young witch exploded into motion again, launching herself off the sofa and she continued pacing.
"She will not, and I advise you to abandon all hope for her," Severus answered in a thoughtful voice, either pointedly ignoring the dawning look of shock and outrage on Maggie's face as her face was drained of what little color was left in it.
The woman proceeded to frown and grit her teeth in anger, and before Severus had any time to respond, she spoke.
Her jaw dropped open in shock, and Severus swore her dark umber brown eyes flashed indignantly in anger, reminding the Potions Master of lightning on a pitch-black eve. Fathomless dark pits of an utterly smoldering rage, yes.
Maggie bolted from her seat and stomped her foot in frustration. "How dare you? This is the part where you apologize to me for what you just said, and if you should want my help in escorting the Tonks woman off Crouch's premises, then you will apologize to me or I will turn right around, walk out that door, and you will never see me again," spat Maggie, finally shoving Severus away from her, as the man had moved to stand in front of her.
The young woman had surprising strength, something Snape had not anticipated from the former Ravenclaw, as he staggered backward and glowered at her with narrowed eyes.
"I…apologize," Snape spat through gritted teeth, though his words did not sound at all sincere.
In fact, they sounded to Maggie as if they caused him pain to utter an apology.
"I do not blame you for your reaction, but you know that I speak the truth. She's not spoken a word to anyone in years. Were that there was a fool's chance of a cure to reverse the damage that has been done to them, someone would have done it. Don't give me that look, witch. I'm not upset with you, Prewitt. More so I am amused that you would even begin to think along these lines. Why give yourself false hope when there is none at all?"
Severus did not sound accusatory, merely rather curious, something Maggie did not anticipate and was as a consequence, caught off guard by the shift in his countenance.
Maggie shook her head, trying to dissuade Lily Evans' old friend from his mistaken and misguided belief.
"There is always hope," she snapped, hardening her facial muscles as a muscle in her jaw and behind her right eyelid gave a twitch.
She could not let Snape continue, and spoke up forcefully, not minding that her voice was shaking as she did.
"Crouch does not remember me. I…wiped his memories when I…the day that it happened," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, and Severus's face remained impassive, even at the sight of tears that threatened escape from her lids.
Maggie swallowed down hard past the growing and swelling lump in her throat as it hollowed and constricted, rendering it difficult for her to breathe. She straightened her posture, her expression hardened and cold as she tried to mask the bitterness she wanted desperately to put far from herself.
"I will do as you ask. I will help this Tonks, this woman to escape from Crouch if it means no other witch will have to suffer under him as we did," she muttered, shifting the weight of the bag of Galleons in her hands before shoving it into the pocket of her coat. "Crouch made it quite clear where his heart lay, and it was not with me, it was never with me, it was always with Alice, and when she denied him, he tortured her when it would have been just kinder to kill my sister," she snarled dryly, lifting her chin resolutely.
It took all of Maggie's inner resolve, what little of it was left in the broken former Ravenclaw's heart and spirit, to keep the anger from her tone.
Maggie emanated a tense, shaking breath through her flaring nostrils and forced herself to continue, despite the torpid whirl of painful memories, visions of her older sister Alice Prewitt's face before she married Frank Longbottom, that flitted to the front of her mind.
She and Alice sharing ice cream sundaes outside of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor. Alice teaching her how to ride a broom. Alice introducing her younger sister to her boyfriend, Frank. Maggie as maid of honor at her sister's wedding, and then…
Maggie being the second on scene alongside Remus Lupin to discover Frank and Alice's bodies almost lifeless and unresponsive on the floor of their living room home in Wales.
Only able to speak in screams, whimpers, and grunts. Crouch had taken away their souls, their hearts. All that remained of her beloved older sister and brother-in-law were empty shells, their vegetative bodies.
But Frank and Alice were gone. At this thought, her nails dug into her palms and Maggie cursed herself through gritted teeth for failing her self-promised intentions of keeping a level head so quickly.
"I'm going to kill him," she promised to herself, unaware that she had spoken it out loud, her voice breaking as she finished, as she looked towards the dirtied hardwood floor to hide the tears that threatened escape at any given moment.
Severus gave Maggie Prewitt the glassy, blackened stare that slowly dissipated the young woman inch by inch.
Maggie, also a skilled Legilimens, did not even need to dip into the raven-haired, sallow-faced man's mind to sense his thoughts. She could see it in his eyes, he thought her insane. But her lips dripped avarice, sensing the Potions Master was about to open his mouth to speak.
"It will happen, Snape."
"If you do that, then you will have doomed us all," barked Severus in a hoarse voice that did not sound like himself, causing Maggie to jut her chin out and blink owlishly at him in surprise as she choked back her salty tears and anger simultaneously in one hard swallow, recoiling backward.
Maggie slowly felt her resolve fell as the Hogwarts professor and Order member glowered at her, though he said not a word, neither physically nor in their shared impossible telepathy.
It was clear that nothing she could say to Snape would convince him to see her side of this ridiculous plan.
He could not even scarcely begin to fathom the pain through which she had lived the last several years of her life, faithfully visiting Frank and Alice in St. Mungo's in secret, long after her nephew, Neville, and Frank's mother, Augusta, had fled the ward for Permanent Spell Damage on the fourth floor.
To the best of her knowledge, no one knew she visited, and Maggie felt a vent of adrenaline and rage course through her face as visions of Crouch, the man who she had once loved, back before Bartemius had tortured her sister to the brink of insanity, yet again flitted in the forefront of her mind, handsome, with not a princely face, and yet with the build of a man who she had once longed to embrace and to call her own.
Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as she could hear Crouch's voice, even though she had not seen the man in years.
She could remember all the stupid things Barty used to say, all those catch-phrases, what did they even mean, anyway? Maggie had always found the man somewhat annoying so often and he had hurt her on purpose the day he had taken her sister from her.
Crouch haunted Maggie Prewitt in ways that the young brunette witch could never explain, never shake from her mind, no matter how hard Maggie tried. The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at the young woman's soul, relentless, unceasing, it could only be stopped by the cold steel of a rat trap, a trap she would devise herself.
Maggie's need for revenge was like an abscess on the skin of the soul that could only be cured by the cruel sharp steel point of revenge. Festering like a septic wound, and the only effective antibiotic for Crouch's betrayal was cold hard revenge. Savage. Spiteful. A dish best served cold. Unforgiving.
Maggie knew that she would bear a grudge until she died or took revenge, whichever came first. Settling old scores. Brutal. Callous. Satisfying. Empty. Pointless. Excessive. Mean spirited. It appealed to her twisted and dark sense of humor, and she needed to ensure Snape understood.
"Miss Prewitt." When Severus spoke to her, his voice was unnaturally smooth, almost languid, though not upset. "Your wisdom leads you into thinking that I am true. If not, you would surely have despaired. You cannot kill Crouch. If you were, the Dark Lord would know it to be you, as you are one of the few last surviving members of the Prewitt household. You claim that you wiped Mr. Crouch's memories. It would seem then, to me, that you have the man at an advantage. He will not remember you unless you reverse the effects of the Memory Charm and restore his memories of his time with you and with Alice," he spoke, unfazed at Maggie's flinching of the use of her older sister's name, pressing forward, and needing to make his point before he forcefully removed her from her home, sensing the young witch growing agitated. "Thus, you are the only choice, the only viable person who I can call upon to help me in extracting Miss Tonks from Barty Crouch's home. Any other, he or one of his comrades would recognize them."
Maggie slowly nodded her head at all of the information as her brain took in Snape's words and processed them, thinking that it was all entirely too much for her to take in.
She clenched her shaking hands into fists at her side.
"This is too much, Snape," she growled in a clipped tone, though when she turned around once more to face the Potions Master, determination and resolve were set clear upon her face. "But I will do as you ask," she muttered, as if to emphasize her point, reached into the pocket of her coat, and shifted the hefty bag of Galleons so that the golden coins rattled within.
Maggie slowly lifted her gaze to meet Severus's. Once again, his face was a perfect mask of neutrality, an impassive indifference, and yet, the young former Ravenclaw swore she saw the briefest shadows of regret intermingled with relief dart across the man's flashing black coal-pitted irises.
"I don't need your pity," she snapped, noticing Severus's silence.
He had to be honest. "I am not giving you any. This plan will work. I know you to be many things, Miss Prewitt, and cowardice, coming from you, is thankfully, not one of them."
This time, Severus saw Maggie Prewitt shudder as a cold chill wafted its way down her spine, unable to look him square in the eyes as he heard her draw in a sharp hiss of breath.
"He is just a man, your sister's torturer. Bloodthirsty and cruel, but just a man, nonetheless. Crouch will be brought to justice for what he has done, but not by your hands," he said.
Severus paused, twirling his wand in between his fingers, sensing the young witch needed further convincing.
"Men…they are fierce until a woman rips off her clothes, then they fall to their knees at her feet. You, Miss Prewitt, have been running your entire life. Terrible tragedy beseeched your entire family, and what did you do? You cried. You sit alone in your dark home mourning your sister's fate. Like it or not, life is not fair, and anybody who would tell you differently is selling something. You've been a bystander to tragedy from the day Crouch took Alice from you, Prewitt. Stop. This," he growled in a voice devoid of warmth as Severus closed off the gap of space and leaned forward, so close, in fact, that the tip of his slender, hooked nose was almost touching hers. "Stop being a bystander, Prewitt, do you hear me? Stop running. Help Alice by helping Remus Lupin's partner escape. The man was her best friend growing up, was he not? I do not think your sister would have wanted your best friend's partner to suffer, and there is no justice in this world unless we make it, and you can do that by helping her. You loved your family, your sister, I know. Avenge them. Avenge them by helping Nymphadora Tonks escape and by denying Crouch what he wants, which is her on the morrow unless we can help Tonks."
His words, though cold and calculating, were true. Maggie's eyes studied Severus Snape's living room parlor floor.
She felt somehow as though she should not be hearing this, but somehow locked his words away and reveled in them.
Severus paused, reaching for his wine glass, and draining the last of its contents with one hearty swig, slamming the glass down on the small wooden table as he strode slowly but swiftly towards the front door of his home.
"Your sister and her husband were powerless against Crouch and Lestrange's evil manipulation." His gaze also found the floorboards as visions of Lily flitted in his mind. "But you, Miss Prewitt, are not. There is a chance to avenge her, and we can do that by saving your sister's best friend's mate."
The note of bitterness in his tones was unmistakable. Maggie frowned at the sheer amount of hatred in Severus Snape's tones at the mention of Remus Lupin's partner.
Though she did not know the woman, this Tonks, she knew and remembered Remus, quite well, and the thought of being reunited with someone from her sister's past, and hers besides, plastered as a quiet vibration under her skin and made it crawl.
Maggie swore Severus looked almost sadly, or as close as to the emotion as the Potions Master could come, as he lifted his chin and looked at her, black eyes boring into hers, almost seeming to silently plead with Alice's young sister to understand.
"He should have stayed with you. Were that he did, perhaps the man might have changed, but his obsession with your sister grew deep, planted roots, turned his heart black. He wanted to, I believe. He would have if he could, I think. I know that there was perhaps a part of Bartemius that felt as though he did not deserve a witch like you or like her."
Severus nodded, though his words did not make Maggie feel any better. If anything, they only worsened her sour mood, and Maggie fought the tears that stung at her eyelids.
She looked back towards Professor Snape with a pained expression. Perhaps somewhere, deep within the roots of her mind, there was a part of her that knew it could have ended no other way.
There had always been something pulling Crouch away from her, and that something had been her older sister.
Maggie doubted that there could have been anything she could have done to really keep the man by her side, then.
Even if he had stayed willingly of his own volition, Alice would have always stood between them. His one obsession.
"Crouch really always was the stupidest Slytherin among us all. Quite smart intellectually, but naïve in the ways of love. He does not feel the emotion and is not capable of it."
Severus needed to ensure the young witch understood before she left, inferring that Barty Crouch Jr. had made the wrong choice in constantly pursuing Maggie's older sister.
He hoped she would understand the meaning behind his words, and he could tell by the look in her eyes, that she did.
Maggie stood in the doorway as she turned, her hand on the handle of the doorknob and twisted it, stepping out onto the stoop of Severus Snape's home in Spinner's End.
Her lips were pursed together thoughtfully in a thin line, something akin to gratitude in Maggie's dark brown eyes.
Finally, Maggie Prewitt tilted her head to the side.
"I will help Tonks. For Alice," she murmured in a contemplative voice, though her features hardened as she looked toward Snape. "But make no mistake, Severus, I will be the one to kill him. I want my face to be the last thing Barty Crouch Jr. sees before I drag him down to the seven layers of Hell itself for what he did to my sister and her husband, what he took from me, and damn anyone that stands in my way," she warned, her voice low and angry, and wrought with pain.
It was as close to a farewell as Snape was likely going to get, as she closed the door behind her, lifting her face to the sky, grateful that the rain falling from the sky was now indistinguishable from the tears falling down her face, before Maggie Prewitt turned on the heels of her black leather boots and Disapparated from Spinner's End, as though she had never been inside Severus Snape's home in the first place.
I have no idea if Alice Longbottom was a Prewitt or not prior to me writing this into this story, as I've been able to find little on Alice and Frank's history pre their lives together with one another, but oh well.
It's fan fiction, after all! Only a couple of chapters in and already, Maggie is yet another character that grows on me in a weird kind of way lol. She's broken, damaged, and hurting, but still very much feeling.
I wanted to have a similar character to an OC of mine, Norah, but with a much different look and different background and motivation. Why? Because Tonks needs a female friend in her life, that's why, lol. At least, I think so, anyway.
Coming up in Ch. 13, Severus introduces Tonks to Maggie, but will the two witches take kindly to one another?