Noxius

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work

Warnings: Character death and slight language.

Part Two: The Aftermath

"Tonks," he prompts me gently, "What happened?"

How exactly am I supposed to answer that?

Let's see … my sort of boyfriend blamed his almost godson for the death of his not quite brother, who was my actual cousin. Then said essentially-my-boyfriend proceeds to try to kill said godson. I, being the only lucid Order member present, am forced to choose between my practically-a-boyfriend and the godson-of-my-cousin (godcousin?), who is actually like a brother to me. To top it all off, the nearly a boyfriend is a werewolf and, as it is near the full moon, can't be stunned…

So I kill him.

I think all of this, but what I actually say is, "I am not really sure." I feel something break inside me as I say this and I wish nothing more than to lie down and sleep forever. Or rather, I wish that I could just lie down and die but I am just too damn angry for that to happen.

How could you do this to us, Remus? How could you do this to Harry and me … and Sirius? Great Maker, what would Sirius think?

This thought runs rampant through my brain: What would Sirius think if he knew that I killed … murdered his best friend … his brother in everything?

"Tonks… Tonks… can you hear me?" Words filter in through the haze of my thoughts but I just ignore them.

Sirius would hate me! Sirius does hate me! He has to know, wherever he is now. He has to know that I murdered his brother! Great Maker, what am I going to do? I have to fix this! I have to do something!

"Tonks? I think she's going into shock." The words are still there, in the background.

…But all I can think about is what has just happened. Remus has been consumed by his grief, by his anger and has betrayed us. Harry is lying somewhere in the Hospital Wing and is on death's doorway.

And me… I have saved the day. I have stopped the bad guy… I have stopped the not-so-bad bad guy. I have killed the love of my life. I am a murderer. I have failed everyone.

But no one so much as Sirius, so much as Remus, so much as Harry… who had lost the only father he has ever known and now has lost the one person we in the Order had prayed might fill that now very vacant roll.

Death is beginning to look more and more appealing right now.

"Tonks … Nymphadora… Nymphie, please listen to me," the voice is now begging me.

I hear the warm deep voice, and I try to listen, but I can't. These horrible thoughts keep cascading through my brain. Sirius is dead. Remus is dead. Harry is near death.

And it is all my fault.

If only I had tried harder with Remus. Maybe I could have reasoned with him. Maybe I could have tried another spell. Maybe I could have saved him.

And Harry…

Sirius wanted me to look after him should anything ever happen. He even said so in his will. He actually transferred the role of godparent to me, not to Remus, but to me. Though he jokingly stated that godsister might be more appropriate than godmother. And I couldn't agree more. I have known him for little more than a year; yet, I am already willing to die for him. Hell, I was willing to commit murder for him. He is my little brother… and nobody is ever going to take him from me. Not even those that I hold dear.

Yet, somehow I have still managed to fail him…

…My thoughts are brought to an unexpected halt as icy water is dumped on my head. My eyes snap open. I look up and am lost in a pool of the darkest color imaginable, so dark that even black is pale in comparison. Yet, these eyes are not hateful but filled with compassion. Kingsley Shaklebolt looks at me as though he fears I will fade away any second, as though I will simply die – just as I wish that I would.

"Tonks," he whispers solemnly. "Tonks, you need to focus on us."

Moody continues where Kingsley left off. "You said that you didn't know what happened…"

The entire scene flashes before my eyes. Harry bleeding, dying. Remus mad with grief. Unholy green light.

"I don't," I respond warily.

Both of Moody's eyes stare at me, but Kingsley speaks, "Well, Remus… is dead, as I am sure you know. He was the only one we lost," he says it gently, trying not to cause me anymore pain. "We tested the wands, Moody and I…" He hesitates, not really knowing how to continue. "It was Nott. His wand registered with a Killing Curse used on a werewolf." Those dark eyes just stare at me.

I nod; I had used a Death Eater wand. Of course, they would think Nott guilty.

"What about Harry?" I ask after a moment.

Kingsley doesn't say anything but glances at Mad-Eye. "Potter is in pretty bad shape. Voldemort and his Death Eaters did a number on him before we arrived, but he managed to take out a fair lot of them." Moody's voice rang with a gruff sort of pride. "Even though the blood wards failed, he still managed to protect the Dursleys…" he spits the name, "and Figg," he adds the last with a much gentler voice. "They are just down the hall."

I exhale and something clicks in my mind. "You said he is in bad shape… how bad?"

Both look uncomfortable. And never before have I ever seen Mad-Eye look nervous.

"Bad," Kingsley finally replies. "He might not make it."

I simply stare at him as the very last vestiges of my world come crashing down. I feel blood trickle down my face from a cut I didn't even know I had. His words echo in my mind.

…And I finally allow myself to cry.

Noxius: culpable, guilty, responsible, blameworthy

Ever Hopeful,

Azar