A/N: Another looonnnggg chapter. Longer than the last, actually, I think. Large portions in italics are FLASHBACKS. I just really don't like doing the whole -flashback-, -end flashback- thing. Oh, and sorry for the wait, had some muse problems. So - on with the angst!

Chapter Six: The Downside of Memories

A young Healer, looking around twenty-five, appeared before us, a plastic grin stamped across her face.

"Good news," she cooed, her voice high and skin-crawlingly irritating. "Bill is doing much better. You can go in two at a time to see him now."

Lupin and I both shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. We had barely spoken a word to each other in the last hour, as an uncomfortable yet familiar awkwardness had found it's way back between us.

What had I been thinking? I was getting too close to Lupin – again. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring placidly at the ground, and appeared to be deep in thought. Never a good sign – at least not at this time and place.

"Oh, I need to go in," whined Hestia, standing up abruptly. "I need to see how Charlie's doing!"

I scowled, and folded my arms over my chest. This was about seeing how Bill was, not her boyfriend. Sure, I understood that Charlie might be having some emotional and physiological problems right now, but Bill was having some life and death ones. Besides, I didn't think she would be much help. Fiancé or not – she was annoying.

"Sit down," commanded Moody, scowling maddeningly. "He'll be comin' out soon. Wait for him here. Someone who actually wants to see Bill should go in."

Hestia frowned, while Moody regarded Lupin and I. We both remained silent, barely meeting the elderly Aurors eyes.

"I'll go," I said, but at the same time heard another voice chime the same thing. I inhaled sharply, and snuck a glance at Lupin, who had grown noticeably redder.

Great. Just the thing to do when you don't want to get into a relationship with someone, I thought, setting my jaw peevishly.

Moody rolled his good eye. "Go. Both of you," he grunted, leaning back onto his chair.

I got up shakily, and started towards the stairs, Lupin at my heels.

Merlin, I hope Bill's OK, I thought hastily, remembering vividly and suddenly the mistrustfulness of Healers.

I rounded the last staircase, and turned onto the hall, surprised to see that Lupin was still right behind me.

"First door to your left," said Lupin abruptly. I stopped in my tracks, as I had gone about two doors to far.

Lupin opened the door gingerly, and held it open for me. I walked steadily forward and my eyes boldly met his.

A million thoughts started to run through my head, as I let the effects of his deep brown eyes wash over me. Shaking myself quickly, I jumped into the doorway, nearly colliding head on with Fleur.

The young witch – who, at most times, only good point was her beauty, looked nothing like herself. Her pale, pointed face was drenched in tears, and her light blue eyes were glazed over and unfocused. Fleur's hair was tied into a messy braid, and she was clutching a handkerchief impulsively.

I glanced for a moment down at the small child by her heels and grimaced. The girl was shaking, and her small, green eyes were brimming with tears.

"Sorry," I mumbled, drawing my eyes back up to Fleur.

The part-Veela stared up at me, her face a blank.

"Mamère," whispered the small girl, tugging with one hand on her mothers robe, and the other on her own long, silvery hair. "I wanna go."

Fleur looked down at her daughter, her face masked in incomprehension. "All right, Lucille," she croaked, and quickly dragged her daughter into the hallway.

I took a deep breath, and trudged further into the room, hearing Lupin's defined footsteps following me in quickly.

My whole body froze, however, when I saw Bill's body lying motionless on the bed. His face was torn and bruised, and his eyes looked stitched shut.

He looked dead.

"I'll come back later," said Lupin suddenly from beside me, already turning to go. "You probably don't –"

"No." I said quickly, my eyes still on Bill's lifeless form. "I don't care."

Lupin stopped, and I slowly walked towards Bill's side. What could have happened…?

"I can't believe Fleur brought Lucille in here," I whispered, thinking back to the little girl's petrified face.

"He is her father," replied Lupin quietly.

"But she's two," I breathed, reaching out and grasping Bill's hand. It felt clammy and cool to me, and I quickly felt around his wrist for a pulse.

"How would you feel if you never got to meet your father?" Lupin replied harshly, and the force of his words startled me.

"This isn't about me," I said flatly, dropping Bill's hand and standing up, feeling surprisingly shaky.

Feeling Lupin's eyes on me, I grimaced and trudged past him, my eyes down.

And it wasn't about us, either.

----

After I left St. Mungo's that morning, I really did not know where else to go. No one would be at Grimmauld right now, and I apparently no longer had an apartment.

So, after about one second of Apparition, I found myself outside Jonathan's apartment, staring, open-mouthed, at the front door.

It was open.

Jonathan was a self-proclaimed neat freak. And no self-respecting neat freak would leave their door wide open in broad daylight (no less at nighttime, though). What if a gust of wind spontaneously blew in and messed everything up? To them, the possibilities are endless.

Cautiously, I made my way forward, squeaking closed a bit after I slipped through.

I could hear murmured voices coming from the living room. I stopped, drew my wand, and strained my ears.

All I could hear were a few unidentifiable 'yes', 'great' and 'good's. I bit my lip, and started down the hall, keeping my back to the wall.

Just as I neared the door, I managed to step onto the large, tabby cat that Jonathan insisted on keeping around. Dumb animal.

It hissed, bristled, and bounded away down the hall.

"Jonathan!" came an unfamiliar voice from the room. "I think there's someone out there!"

It was my turn to bristle, now. He had a woman in there. The son of a –

"Mother, I'm sure it's nothing. Let's get back to checkers. You were winning!"

I scowled, and ground my teeth loudly. He had his mother in there. Oh, Merlin.

"No, there is something out there!" There was a long pause, before an astounding screech filled the air. "What did I raise you for? I thought keeping your mother safe from potential murderers might be important to you, but noo, you'd rather play –!"

"Fine! Mother, I'll go check, OK? OK…"

As his voice died off, I finally realized that I was what he checking for, and that I had basically just broken into his apartment.

The door opened, and I froze, a dumbstruck look planted firmly on my face.

Jonathan stared at me for a few seconds, before blinking, running a hand through his curly brown hair and shutting the door.

"Sorry," I whispered to his back. "I didn't –"

"Tonks."

I immediately stopped talking and watched him slowly turn to face me. "Tonks," he began again, his voice low.

"Who is it, dear?" shrieked his mother from the living room. "Is it that darn cat again?"

"No, Mother," he yelled back, his jaw set determinedly. "I'm handling it, OK?"

After we heard her muffled 'OK', Jonathan turned back to me, his dull green eyes surprisingly piercing.

"I can't do this anymore."

I blinked at him. Really, all I did was break into his flat and upset his mother. No one was this sensitive…

"Er – really, Jonathan, the front door was open, so –"

"No," Jonathan said firmly, his expression stony. "That doesn't matter. I…I've been meaning to do this for a while now."

He swallowed, and bit his lip nervously. I stared; do what?

"I – I think we should start seeing other people." As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he blanched, and looked off into space, leaving me to stare at him in bewilderment.

"Wait…what? Didn't you just say – just a few days ago – that you wanted me to meet your mother? I mean, well, now I have, but, you know…" I abruptly cut myself off. I was rambling. I hadn't rambled in…forever.

Jonathan turned back to me, and for the first time ever I saw a bit of guilt in his glossy eyes. "I…" Jonathan paused, taking a deep breath, and then continued. "I've met someone else."

I stopped breathing for a moment. My chest suddenly felt compressed, and I looked around the small hallway wildly. Why is this hurting? I asked myself sharply. He was only a passing fancy – if that. I never felt anything…I shouldn't be feeling anything now.

"It's just…you're so…distant," said Jonathan hurriedly, looking strangely panicky. "I wanted to get to know you…see what was under all that depression. But…" Jonathan looked unsteadily at me, his hands twitching in his pockets, "you just won't let me in. And…I guess you never will. Not after him."

I drew in a tight breath, and stared up at Jonathan. "What?" I breathed.

Jonathan bit his lip, hard. "You know who I mean, Tonks. I knew…as soon as I saw you two together, that I never had a chance…I mean, you'd still be with him if…" He stopped, and a thoughtful expression came across his face. "I don't even know what happened. But, Tonks, you adored that guy."

I stiffened, and desperately tried to ignore my now ex-boyfriend's words. The bastard. He didn't even know what he was talking about…he didn't even know the half of it…

Soundlessly, I tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my arm forcefully.

"Get off!" I cried, trying to wriggle free.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his hand still clasped tightly against my arm.

I struggled a bit more, then finally turned to him with a sigh of impatience and hurt. "Get off of me," I hissed again.

Jonathan eye's met mine, and I saw him hastily try to blink away unshed tears. "Ever since your mother introduced us, that day, I've liked you. Maybe even loved you. I'm not sure. But I also knew since that day that you were seriously hooked up on that guy. I…thought I could handle being second best."

Jonathan sighed, and then realized my arm gently. I stood frozen in place and watched Jonathan begin to turn towards his mother…and away from me.

I blinked quickly, my breath starting to become short and raspy, before shutting my eyes tightly and Apparating to Grimmauld Place.

Staggering instead, I felt body collapse against the floor. I drew in a shaky breath, and lay back against the stiff walls.

The bastard…he breaks up with me, talks to me about Remus, and then tells me he might be in love with me…the bastard.

I shook my head, and stood up, a shiver running through my spine. Why should I even care? Jonathan was nothing to me…

I started up the stairs, my footsteps heavy, yet weak at the same time. I would have never gotten together with him if Remus hadn't hurt me so bad.

I opened the door to my room, and immediately crouched down on the bed. Even if he really didn't mean anything to me, he still rejected me…just like everyone else.

At that thought, I grabbed my alarm clock from my bedside table and threw it angrily across the room. I watched silently as it crumbled into a million tiny pieces. It didn't bring me any satisfaction…it just made me angrier. And I hadn't felt angry in a very long time.

I lay my head carefully down on my knees, and realized suddenly that I was crying. Crying. I wiped a hot tear from my cheek, and examined it shakily. Everything was falling apart…I was letting everything fall apart…

Again.

-

"I love weddings," I whispered over the thunderous music to Remus. "Don't you?"

Remus raised his eyebrows, and gave me a skeptical look. "I'm not going to fall for that one, Nymphadora."

I put a hand under my chin, and tried to look like a picture of innocence. "Why, Remus, I have no idea what you're on about." I smiled, and looked around the large garden, which Molly Weasley had so elegantly turned into a beautiful wedding reception. My eyes fell on Bill and Fleur, who were slow dancing together, her head on his shoulder. "They look so happy together…" I murmured. "I didn't actually think they'd go through with it, though."

Remus' eyes followed mine, and he furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

I glanced back at Remus, and smiled devilishly. "I basically grew up with Bill. Merlin, that kid was crazy. I really could never imagine him settling down." I paused, and looked back at the couple. "But now…"

"People change," answered Remus, after a moment's silence. "They have to."

"Well that," I said, boldly scooting my chair closer to Remus', "I can't disagree with. Just imagine if you had decided to be stubborn for the rest of your lonely life, and had never give 'us' a chance." I smiled, and batted my eyelashes dramatically. "Just look at what you would have been missing out on."

Remus lips twitched upwards for a moment, but he managed not to smile. I felt a surge of happiness flow through my person, and I rubbed my shivering arms gently. Just one small action, one small thing that was so him could do so much to me…

"Nym?"

I turned, and my eyes met the unsure, black ones of my mother. She looked oddly pale, something I was about to ask her about, but, before I could, she smiled and addressed me again.

"Nym! I'd like you to meet someone! This is Jonathan!"

My mother clapped her hands together, and moved to the side, unveiling a tall, dark man, who cast a flashy white smile in my direction.

I blinked at him and then glared at my mother; suddenly wishing I had never invited her here. "Ah – Wotcher," I said hurriedly to the man, who was now sizing me up with his eyes. "Mum?"

She turned to me, her eyes glowing, and her face bright, almost illuminating the heavy lines that the years had etched in.

I didn't bat an eye, before saying, slowly and calmly. "Can I speak with for a moment? Alone?"

Before she could refuse, I turned to Remus, and smiled. "I'll be right back," I drawled, in my most seductive voice, one that only Remus could tell was forced.

He raised an eyebrow at me, and then glanced momentarily at Jonathan. "Right," he murmured.

Standing up shortly, I grabbed my mother's sleeve and dragged her a few feet away, conveniently hiding us behind an unfamiliar couple that happened to be presently snogging like mad.

"Are you crazy?" I exclaimed, which firmly wiped the smile off my mothers face. "What do you think you're doing, trying to get me with a bloke? Not only do I have a boyfriend, but he was sitting right there! I – I mean, Merlin, Mum!"

"Nym…" my mother said quietly, her tone level and quite bluntly bored, "I wasn't trying to do anything. Jonathan just looked like a nice young man…"

"And you know who's also a nice young man, Mum? Remus Lupin. Maybe not as young as me, but…" I shook my head, trying to get back to the point. "I love him. And I thought that would be enough for you! But no – you're always getting me to meet some new brainless git you've pulled out of the wealthy-family, good looks dump!"

My mother's jaw dropped, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, which was quickly overcome by a strong sense of satisfaction. "Darling, I only want what's best for you," my mother said crossly, with her nose stuck up in the air.

"He is what's best for me," I cried, waving my arms wildly in the air. "He's made me a better person, Mum! I'm not just some confused little girl anymore! I'm a person! I'm me!"

My mother drew in an unsteady breath, and looked around at the crowd quickly, her pale face quickly colouring.

I followed my mother's gaze, and saw that people were beginning to stare. If anything, that only made me more irritated.

"So just stay out of my life," I said firmly, my voice low and dangerous.

My mother pursed her lips, and said with a shaky tone, "You never knew what was best for you, Nymphadora. He'll hurt you, mark my words."

I stiffened, and tore my eyes from my mother's retreating back. She didn't know anything about Remus…how could she be so blunt…so accusing?

I walked slowly back over to my seat, and gratefully found that Jonathan had long since departed. I don't think I could handle that man right now.

Remus looked pale, and I noticed with concern that his eyes were desperately avoiding mine. "Remus…" I started, leaning over to touch his forearm.

"Nymphadora," he said, in an exhausted tone. He quickly moved his arm away before I could touch it. I slumped, feeling my heart do the same, while Remus sighed, and began again in a gentler tone. "Nymphadora…your mother…she's right…"

I drew in a sharp breath, and shook my head slowly. "Remus, don't take anything she said to heart. She – she just doesn't understand me and my decisions – no matter how good they've been. She's always been like that…"

But Remus remained unconvinced. "No, no – Nymphadora…she's right. This is…mad. I could hurt you, I could –"

"Remus," I said gently, looking boldly into his deep eyes, "please…she…she didn't mean physically, anyways. She's – she's afraid you'll hurt me emotionally, that you'll break me…"

Remus swallowed, slowly and nervously. "I know," he said softly, and I felt a suffocating feeling suddenly engulf me. "And…maybe, she's right…"

-

I inhaled shakily, and tried to shut the images out of my mind. It had never been the same after that. Remus was just…so hard to talk to. He was afraid…I knew that. And I knew he loved me…but, after that, I had started to wonder if my fairytale romance wasn't going to have a happy ending.

I looked around my cramped room and lay my head to side, so it was leaning against the wall. But I had never thought it would turn out like this.

-

"Er – Nymphadora?"

"Bugger off, Kingsley!" I shrieked, clamping my hands tightly around my case folder. Really – I mean, pestering me in the office was one thing, but following me home…he was really going too far.

"No, I'm…I'm sorry – I don't –"

Feeling quite annoyed, I snapped round and opened my mouth wide, about to spit out some nasty retort. Until – that is – I saw a face that was most certainly not Kingsley's.

I reddened, and nervously brushed a few hairs out of my face. "Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry…I – I thought you were someone else…" I winced and looked apologetically into the young man's eyes. He seemed…somewhat familiar. He had shoulder length curly brown hair and piercing green eyes. I chewed on my lip as I tried to place him. "Again, I'm…really sorry…" I gave him one last sweeping look. "Er – do I know you from somewhere?"

He smiled, and extended his hand. "Yes, I do believe so. You're Nymphadora Tonks…if I am not very much mistaken?" Suspiciously, I grasped his hand and nodded. "I'm Jonathan Bradoven. Er – from the Weasley's wedding, last summer, I believe…"

My eyes brightened, and I gave a nod of realization. Riiight. He was the poor guy that my mother tried to set me up with and that I had berated down to the point of insanity. He really didn't look as…bad as I had thought at first glance. Now, if anything, he looked quite respectable.

"Right. Yes. Well, er, nice to see you again," I said hesitantly, giving him a bubbly smile. "So – I'm guessing you know the Weasley's?"

Jonathan looked at me blankly for a moment, as though lost in thought. "What – oh! Yes. I do." He gave a devious smile. "Me and Bill Weasley go way back. We went to school together, actually."

I raised my eyebrows, and gave a half smile. "Really? Bill Weasley was only a few years ahead of me. I was in his brother, Charlie's, year."

Jonathan nodded slowly, and I noticed his eyes were glued to my hair, which was currently a striking turquoise colour.

"Do you charm it?" He asked quietly, still seemingly absorbed in it. He blushed, and quickly lowered his eyes down to mine. "Er – I mean, it was different at the wedding…purple, I think…"

I raised my eyebrows. He remembered my hair colour? That was over two months ago…I didn't even remember him. "Well, no, actually, I don't." I smiled, and scrunched up my face, imagining myself with raven-black curls. I opened my eyes, and took triumphant pleasure in seeing his shocked face. I laughed. "I'm a metamorphmagus," I explained.

"Wow." He said, shaking his head slightly. "They're really rare." His already reddened face became an even deeper red, and I bite back the urge to laugh. "Er – um, I meant, I mean, you're really rare, or wait, no…er, metamorphmagus, in general, are rare…they-they're really hard to come by – or, I mean, hard to be…or…" Jonathan cut himself off, and amazed to see that his face had almost become as dark as his deep scarlet sweater.

I smiled knowingly, and waved my arm, dismissing the matter. "Really, I get it…if I was still insulted by that kind of stuff…" Jonathan looked slightly reassured, and I felt it was OK now to let out a laugh.

Jonathan smiled, and looked unsurely down at his hands. "I – er – I was just wondering…if you…if you'd like to maybe go…get a drink or something, sometime?" He bit his lip, and gave me a wary look.

I blinked, and drew in a cautious breath. "I…" I looked at him sympathetically, and I tried to ignore his already crumpling face. "I'm really sorry, I can't. I…I'm seeing someone right now. And…well, yeah."

Jonathan seemed disappointed, but he nodded in understanding. "Yeah…that guy you were with at the wedding, right?"

I opened my mouth to ask how he remembered that so well, but quickly though better of it. "Yeah…" I said, breaking off as my thoughts went dreamily over to Remus.

Jonathan studied me for a moment, before nodding. "I…uh, I should get going."

My eyes snapped back over to Jonathan. "Oh. Yeah. Right. I should get going too," I said quickly.

"I'll…see you," he said, beginning to turn away.

"Er – yeah. Nice to meet you," I called, hoping he caught it as he Apparated.

With a small smile, I turned, and jumped down off the curb. Looking quickly around to check for traffic, I sprinted across the road, a sense of bubbly excitement beginning to take over my person. Jonathan, though unknown to him, had reminded me of something that practically made my toes curl with anticipation.

He was coming home today.

Nearly breathless, I fiddled in my pocket for my apartment key. Grasping it tightly, I shoved into the lock.

Click.

I swung open the door and bounded in.

"Nymphadora?"

My breath caught, and I turned towards the sound of his voice.

Beside me, I could see the shadowy figure of Remus Lupin, half-smiling down at me with a slender hand clasped tightly over his right shoulder.

I sized him up quickly, but in my mind I already knew what had happened. "They attacked you?" I said quietly, sauntering over to him. Before he could answer, I gently pried his hand from his shoulder. It was dripping in dark blood. Biting my lip to restrain it from shaking, I observed his shoulder. His shirt was ripped, and a large wound covered nearly everywhere from upper arm to neck.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he whispered, and I noticed his voice sounded strangely hoarse.

I looked up at his face, and I could see another huge dash down his left cheek, cutting off just before his nose. His lip was badly swollen, and one of his eyes was black. The other seemed red and puffy, and I wondered painfully if he had been crying.

"We have to get you to St. Mungo's," I said croakily, and realized – as I wiped my cheek quickly – that I was crying.

Remus drew in a shaky breath, and slowly shook his head, as though it were painful. "No…I'm fine. You don't need –"

"Stop it!" I cried, in a shuddering voice. "No, Remus, no. You never let anyone take care of you." I sighed, "And these are cursed bites…"

"I'm already a werewolf," he said flatly, and moved his hand as if to put it back on his cut, but then at the last minute thought better of it.

He's too damn stubborn for his own good, I thought, quickly ripping off a piece of my t-shirt. I tenderly placed it on his cut, applying only the needed pressure.

"Keep that there," I said sternly, and went off into the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl, and poured it about half full of water. Finally glad that I had been somewhat gifted in Potions, I quickly made a healing potion almost as good as one made by Madam Pomfrey herself.

When I returned to Remus, he had settled himself on the armrest of the sofa, and seemed almost frozen in place.

"Move," I said, and he made to stand up. "No. Onto the sofa." Remus gave me an almost worrisome look before gingerly lying down.

Ignoring my pounding heart, I carefully began dabbing his wound with the potion. He winced slightly, but otherwise made no indication he was in pain.

Shaking, I slowly applied pressure once more, letting the potion soak into his wound. Remus quickly inhaled, and made to sit up, but I put a hand over his chest to stop him.

"Stop," I murmured, lifting the bloodied rag off of his shoulder for a moment. Our eyes met, and my heart sped up a few paces, if possible. A guilty look was resting in his eyes – a look I knew only too well.

"Remus…" I began, burying his hand in mine.

He shook me off gently. "Look at me, Nymphadora. All I'm doing is holding you down. You deserve so much better than me…" He stopped, as if he could hear the insincerity of his own words.

Feeling tears threatening to fall once more, I quickly brought a quivering hand up to his pale face. "I don't care, Remus," I stuttered, leaning closer to him. "What you have to offer…that's all I want. You." Slowly, my lips met his, and I could feel the fiery passion between us heighten.

After a moment, I broke our kiss. "Can't you feel that?" I said quietly.

Remus observed me quickly, and then looked down at his arm. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

I blinked at him, and then stared up at the ceiling, before slowly getting back to his wound.

-

I could feel tears again begin fall down my sallow cheeks. I put my hand gingerly up to my face, and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I had to stop thinking…

Bam.

My stomach rose to my throat, and back down again. The front door. Someone was here.

Soon enough, I could hear voices break the long silence.

"Brr. It's freezing in here, don't you think?"

There was a small pause before the same feminine voice spoke. "Charlie, you're to have to talk to me sooner or later. I took you here so you wouldn't have to be around your brothers for tonight, but you still can't –"

"Mum, I just…I don't – I can't – talk about it."

"Why not? Dear, please, you need to try…for your brother's sake…"

The house was silent once more before Charlie broke the silence with a very low, shaky voice. "I don't see how it will help him now."

My blood ran cold, and wondered if it really was too late…if he was already gone…

"Charlie Weasley. Bill is going to get through this, but not if you talk like that. Now, you need to me what happened." There was some uncomfortable shuffling, before I heard Molly speak again. "Charlie. I need to know."

"I…I don't know where to start."

This unsure, nervous Charlie was beginning to worry me. The Charlie I knew was outgoing, bold, rowdy and brave. What if he never got past this?

"How? How and where did you find him?"

"At – at work. I heard some of the blokes…the nasty crowd, I mean, the ones that McGonagall's got me keeping an eye on…they were talking about him. They were saying that one of Voldemort's Death Eaters has got a redhead from the Order, and that they've been torturing him for about a year now…and that he won't give up anything. Then…then I waited 'til they said where and…and then I attacked them…'Stupefy'…and then told my mate, Heckle, to make sure none of them woke up. Then I sent a letter to McGonagall…telling her I got them." Charlie stopped, and I could tell from the intensity of his voice that he was close to tears. "Then I went. And…and, I found him."

Molly sighed. "Where…was it?"

"Calais," he replied quietly.

Calais. The site of the Dementor attacks…it must have been a Death Eater get together spot for the last year or so. They've probably been setting them on children for a few drunken laughs.

My jaw tightened, and I tried to push some of the nastier mental images from my mind.

"OK…" I heard Molly say, and I found her tone of voice surprising. She seemed so scared. So vulnerable. "Charlie…Charlie, what did they do? What curses…what…"

But for this Charlie remained silent. Molly sighed in exasperation, and I supposed that he had shaken his head.

"Well…" she started. "Who? Who did it?"

For this, however, Charlie wasted no time. "Peter Pettigrew," he said simply.

----

A/N: Mwahaha! Hope you enjoyed that! Please R&R!