A/N - After two light-hearted pieces, it's time for some angst. If you are sensitive to issues regarding pregnancy, I respectfully ask that you use your judgment before reading. This was written for the Half Moon Rising Challenge at the metamorfic moon community over at livejournal. The prompts were Waddiwasi, Salem, A day of cold and Angst

The Witches of Salem

Remus is staring at me. Without looking behind me, I can feel his eyes boring into my back. I can even picture the expression on his face in my head. A mixture of longing and concern, the only way he has looked at me for the past ten months.

I softly pound my fist on the hotel counter, knowing it will do me no good. I turn and look at Remus. "They don't have our reservation," I say. It is a sign. A mistake. We should leave right now.

"Serves us right for trusting Dung with a recommendation for a hotel, Nymphadora," Remus says dryly.

I force myself to give Remus a half-hearted smile. But a smile is not what he wants. He wants me to cringe, to narrow my eyes and to yell at him for calling me by first name. The woman he married would have done that. The woman he married would have playfully teased him, demanded that he take that back and call her by her proper name, 'Tonks.'

That woman has disappeared.

"We were trying to save money," I mutter under my breath. The hotel is now sold out. Remus and I have come to Salem during its busiest time of the year, Halloween. The only other wizarding hotel in Salem costs more per night than the spending money we allowed ourselves for the entire weekend.

"We could always go back to London," I say wistfully. Being in Salem has disrupted my routine, which is exactly what Remus wants to do, why he has spent the last three months convincing me that we need this mini-break. A chance to get away, a chance to start over.

"Why don't we stay at a Muggle hotel?" Remus asks, putting his arm around my shoulder. I pull away. He doesn't reach for me again.

He is trying so hard to help me. I want to let him. I know that I am being selfish. But every time I try to ask for help, I clam up. The words die on the tip of my tongue. And it's not fair. He is going through the same grief I am. And I am not there, not capable to help him in any sense of the word.

I take a deep breath. "Sure," I say and Remus' face becomes alive. I remember when his face always looked like that. And then I feel guilty again, knowing it is because of me why it isn't always now.

It takes us an hour to find a nearby Muggle hotel. It is an ugly, modern block of hotel rooms. When we get to our room, Remus holds the door open for me and I remember our wedding night, only fourteen months ago. He had picked me up, walked slowly over the threshold, calling me "Mrs. Lupin," and then practically ran to the bed, where we couldn't take our clothes off fast enough. We had everything then.

Hand in hand, Tonks and Remus walked into St. Mungo's. There had been a full moon the night before, so Remus was exhausted, but he refused her pleas of staying home and getting some rest. But he wasn't so tired that it stopped them from acting like a couple of teenagers when they realized they were alone in the elevator.

They were breathless when the doors opened on their floor. Tonks had to take a second to adjust her shirt while Remus smirked. "Don't look so pleased with yourself," she said, rolling her eyes. He took her hand and kissed it.

She was huge by then, eight months pregnant. Only one more month until the princess joined them in their castle. Cassiopeia. Cassie, for short.

They argued endlessly over names once they knew the baby was a girl. Using Tonks' first name as an example, Remus wanted something short and sweet. Jean was his first choice, after his grandmother.

Tonks wanted to continue the Black tradition of naming children after stars or constellations. By then she was the only surviving member of the Black family, and thought it was a lovely tradition. Remus was wary. But in the end, he gave in.

Remus starts unpacking our shared suitcase, even though we're only going to be here for two nights. I simply sit in an overstuffed chair that looks out towards the Atlantic Ocean, my knees hugged tightly to my chest.

He asks me what I want to do today.

I consider the question. What I want to do is not an option. I want to delve underneath the covers and lock out the world. I want to forget. But I am determined to make an effort. For Remus. He deserves so much more than I am currently able to give him. But I will give him what I can.

"What are my choices?" I ask lightly. I don't recognize the voice. It is a voice I hadn't used in ten months.

The room is freezing. And I'm not sure how to work the Muggle heaters and I don't want to risk using magic in a Muggle hotel. Remus must have seen me shiver, and places his jacket over me. He sits on the arm of the chair, also looking out the window.

"I was thinking we could walk around for a bit, get to know the area," Remus says, running his hand through his sandy fringe. "Grab some dinner in Salem's Diagon Alley. Then if we want to stay out, we can. Or if we'd rather come back here, we can do that, too."

"What's their Diagon Alley called?" I ask suddenly.

Remus looks pleased. I hadn't shown any interest in this trip, with the exception of agreeing to go, and now I'm asking questions. A breakthrough, he is most likely thinking.

"Pickering Square," he answers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"Do you want to leave now?" I ask. Remus nods. We both stand up. I glance at myself in the mirror. I look worse than I did at any point that one year, the year Remus was underground. My hair is brown and lank and in a desperate need of a trim. I take it out of the ponytail it's in and push the hair behind my ears. Not satisfied, I put it back up in a ponytail, and whisper a hair cleaning spell.

I pull on bright purple jumper over my Weird Sisters T-shirt. Remus puts on his army green corduroy jacket over his navy blue collared shirt. We leave the room, double checking to make sure we have the Muggle keys with us.

We go outside. The air is crisp and already I can feel my cheeks turning red from the cold. Ten months ago, I would have demanded Remus put his arm around me so I could steal some of his body warmth. Today I simply cross my arms over my chest and walk faster.

Salem is beautiful. It feels like you're walking in the past. The buildings are well maintained and I can almost see the people hundreds of years ago living in them.

I say as much to Remus, who simply smiles at me. A silence falls between us. The silence is what hurts the most. Ten months ago every silence would have been filled easily. We never would run out of things to talk about, joke about, laugh about. Today I can't think of a single thing to say to my husband.

The Healer Assistants always smiled at them when they walked into the office. Maybe because at first glance, they were such an unlikely pair. Studious Remus with his pink haired bride. But a year after the war was over, they certainly weren't the only unlikely pair. Who would have ever put Mad-Eye with Professor McGonagall? Everyone expected Hermione to end up with a Weasley. However, no one could quite believe that it was George and not Ron.

They were ushered into the small Healer's office and once alone, again acted like teenagers. Remus' reasoning was that there would be no time for that once the baby was born.

The door opened and they jumped apart. Either they were very nonchalant about everything or the Healer simply ignored what they had been up to. She asked the usual questions, but Tonks had a first time answer for her.

"Cassie hasn't really moved in the last day or so," Tonks said casually. She wasn't worried. She had read in 'The New Witch's Guide to Pregnancy,' that when there is less room in the womb, the less the baby can move.

"Let's take a look," the Healer said quietly, her wand out.

Remus sat next to her, his arm flung loosely around her shoulder. This was her favorite part of the exam, listening for the heartbeat. Hearing that little heartbeat made everything seem real to her. Knowing that someone decided that they were lucky enough to get to have a baby of their very own.

We stop at a large park called Salem Willows. There is a Muggle amusement park at one end, a large pier on the other. It is exactly the type of place we would have loved ten months ago.

"Skee ball?" Remus asks hopefully.

"Maybe later," I say distractedly. I walk towards the park, where I am mesmerized by a pageantry of colors. Remus hurries after me. He must have seen what was in the park and didn't want me to keep walking.

Children are everywhere, all dressed up in colorful Halloween costumes. Normally this is about the time when I tear up and try to find the nearest ladies room. But somehow…I want to see.

There are pirates and comic book heroes and princesses and countless other costumes. I walk down to a grassy area that's on a slope. I sit Indian style on a pile of red and orange leaves, not noticing the dampness underneath me.

I sit and watch the children laughing and playing. There are older kids, maybe eleven or twelve, old enough to consider the procession lame, but young enough to still want to be included. There are toddlers holding onto their parent's hands.

For the first time in ten months I look at parents with their children and do not feel a wild stab of jealousy.

Tonks didn't like the look on the Healer's face, not one bit. Remus' arm left her shoulder and instead gripped her hand tightly. She kept poking and proding Tonks' belly.

"Is everything alright?" Remus asked tentatively. Tonks wanted to slap him the moment the words came out of his mouth. Of course everything was alright! Cassie was simply tired. It was hard work, growing and developing like she was. He shouldn't suggest otherwise…

The Healer sat down across from us, her face troubled. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "There's no easy way to say this, but the child is stillborn."

I didn't notice when Remus sat down next to me. He's looking at the children, too.

A little girl runs up to us. She is dressed as Glinda, the Good Witch. She is no more than four years old. "Hello," she says shyly.

I wonder where her parents are and why they allow her to talk to strangers. I nod back at the girl, not willing to enter into a conversation with a four year old.

"I like your hair," she says, her face lighting up. My hand automatically goes back to touch it. It's still in the ponytail. I look at Remus, insisting on answers. He smiles and for a moment, it is ten months ago. I had forgotten that I had the power to make him smile at me like I was the only person in the world.

He reaches out, hesitantly. It had been six months since we really have touched, since that horrible night when we tried to make love for the first since before. It ended in tears for both of us, neither of us ready. We haven't tried again since. His hand brushes my cheek and he shows me some hair that has escaped from my ponytail.

There is pink woven within the brown.

I'm furious with myself. Angrily, I scrunch my eyes and demand that my hair goes back to brown. I'm not ready to be pink.

Another little girl, the same age skips towards us. This one is the Wicked Witch of the West, minus the green face.

"I'm bored," the Wicked Witch announces. I look beyond the girls and see that the pageantry is ending. There are less than half the people that were there before in the park.

I look at the two girls and realize they are twins. I wonder who decided which one would be 'Good' while the other 'Wicked.'

"How can you be bored if you can do magic?" I ask. The words sound strange coming out of my mouth. Remus looks at me in surprise and gently puts his arm around my waist. This time, I don't pull away.

The Good Witch wrinkles her nose in such a way that she is like me when I was a child, trying to morph. "These are just costumes. We're not really witches," she says, almost apologetically.

"I bet you can do magic," I say. My breath catches in my throat; I'm not sure what I'm doing. But somehow, it feels like the right thing to do.

"All little girls can do magic," Remus says softly. He gives me a wink and I find myself really smiling back at him for the first time in forever.

"Not us," the Wicked Witch says, shaking her head.

"Even you," I say as my hand goes behind my back and finds my wand. I'm sure I could get in all sorts of trouble for what I'm about to do. But somehow, I don't care. Right now, all I want to do is let these little girls believe they can do magic.

I concentrate on the Good Witch's sparkly wand and utter "Taleawasi," in my head, while flicking my wand behind my back. The wand, with it's bright pink ribbons floats in the air and I guide it into the Wicked Witch's hands.

"Look what you did," Remus says, holding my waist tighter. I lean into him, trying to get warm. The sun is ready to set and I am so cold.

The Good Witch is jumping up and down excitedly, but the Wicked Witch is pouting. Another flick of my wand and I whisper, "Virgawasi," concentrating on the small toy broomstick. I lift it up in the air and let it fall in the Good Witch's hands.

Both girls are thrilled with themselves. They run away without even a word. I watch them run and lean my head on Remus' shoulder. I have missed our closeness.

"You do realize you could get thrown in the American version of Azkaban for that, right?" Remus asks. But I know he is only teasing. So I shrug and close my eyes.

They were shown into a small room where they could yell and shout and cry in privacy. Remus helped Tonks into her chair, a little gesture that always touched her, but now almost seemed cruel.

There was only one decision that had to be made now, and it was mainly hers. Would she induce labor or wait a week or two to go into labor naturally? Tonks didn't even need to think. How could they ask her to carry a dead child inside of her for two weeks? A child that once had been alive and well and everything she dreamed?

Tonks waited for Remus to ask the question that she knew was coming. 'What had she done wrong?' But the question never came. While Tonks lay her head on the table and cry, he sat next to her, gently rubbing her back. Instead, the question ran over and over and over in her own head, like a mantra. She had failed her daughter.

"They're back," Remus whispers. "And they've brought parents."

I open my eyes to see the Good and Wicked Witch running towards us happily. "Oh Merlin," I mutter under my breath. I stick my wand in the waist band of my jeans.

"We tried to magic again but we couldn't!" the Good Witch pouted. "Mommy and Daddy wanted to see us do magic!"

I glance at Remus, who is doing his best not to laugh. His arm is still around me and I am slightly amazed that I haven't pulled away. I look up innocently at the parents.

"I'm sorry," the mother says. She looks around forty and is dressed as the Scarecrow. She is smiling. The father is smiling as well, though I 'm not sure why, with the amount of silver face paint he is sporting as the Tin Man.

"The girls can be a handful," the father says. "They're convinced they did magic in front of you."

"They did," I say, surprising myself. My hand sneaks behind my back to find my wand. "Witches, do you want to show your mum and dad your magic?"

The girls jump up and down excitedly and out of the corner of my eye, I see Remus bringing his wand behind his back.

"I bet you can make your parent's hats switch," Remus says. He looks at the Tin Man's hat, so I concentrate on the Scarecrow's.

"On three, point your wands at your parent's hats and say the magic words," I say. "One…two…three…"

"Abracadabra!" the girls cry in unison just as Remus and I mutter, "Comptiwasi."

The hats hover over the parent's heads momentarily, and we guide them to the opposite person's head. They are impressed and the witches are delighted.

"That's amazing!" the mother says happily. The little girls have taken their father by the hand and are leading him away. But not before they wave merrily at Remus and me. "Are you both magicians?"

"Something like that," Remus replies. "Smoke and mirrors, that sort of thing."

"I bet your children love that," the mother says. Then seems to think better of herself. "Do you have children?"

"No," Remus says as I answer, "Yes."

Remus looks at me in disbelief. In ten months I have not acknowledged once that we had a child. A child that never had the chance to live. And suddenly I have told a complete stranger.

"Our daughter died," Remus says, gripping my waist so tightly that I think I might not be able to breath.

The mother looks uncomfortable. "I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes immediately fixing on her own two daughters. "Well, thank you for making my girls so excited…Happy Halloween."

Remus and I both mutter the words back to her as she walks away. There is silence. But this is not an uncomfortable silence. This is a reflective silence. Everything has changed and I think we both need to time to accept it.

I look at Remus and he is looking at me so intensely that I feel like I'll melt under his gaze. Nine months ago, a week ago, an hour ago I would have. Now I simply stare back.

"What would we have dressed Cassie as, do you think?" I ask.

They told no one that day. They could barely accept the facts themselves, how could they tell anyone else? That night, instead of reading to Tonks' belly and dancing lovingly together, they wept. When they tried to go to sleep, Tonks' hands clutched her belly like she was a child holding onto her favorite blanket, refusing to let go. Remus held on to her the same way.
The dams have burst open. We do not go Pickering Square to see Salem's wizarding world. We eat dinner at a small Muggle café and use a privacy charm so we are not disturbed. We talk, really talk for the first time since Cassie died.

I realize then how deep my depression ran, how much it has affected Remus. We both cry. We both laugh. We both remember.

Somehow by the end of our meal I have joined him in his side of the booth. We are not touching though. But we are close. He wipes my tears from my eyes and I am reminded of just how strong he is. I no longer want to walk the line of my grief alone. I want to walk with Remus.

This time in the elevator, they didn't touch. Tonks felt his eyes on her like a silent accusation, though he never said a word. This time the Healer's Assistants avoided their eyes when they walked in. They signed forms and made decisions. Did Tonks want to use pain reduction spells. Yes. She would have asked them to Stupefy her if they were willing. Did they want to spend time with the baby after the delivery?

Cassie had been a part of her for eight months. Tonks couldn't just let her go.

The labor was longer than Tonks hoped. It hurt more than she thought it was going to. When she made that last push, the push that every mother dreams of, there was no crying baby on the other end, only silence. The Healer cleaned the baby off and wrapped her in a blanket.

"Your daughter," she said, putting the child in Tonks' arms.

"Cassie," Tonks whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Remus half lay next to her. They both couldn't take their eyes off of her. Cassie was beautiful.

She looked just like Tonks' dreams. Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes. Fine strands of hair, not quite any color were on top of her head.

They sat in silence, staring at what they had created, until Remus finally asked, "May I hold her?"

Tonks nodded, and they carefully transferred Cassie from her arms to his. Seeing her in his arms hurt more than Tonks dreamt possible. Remus would have been such a wonderful father to her. He could have taught her so much, loved her so much…

A Healer's Assistant came into the room and took their daughter away. And Tonks felt like she would never be whole again.

We walk back to the hotel. After dinner and the raw emotion we have just shared, we are exhausted. About half way there, Remus notices that I am shivering and he takes his jacket off and puts it around my shoulders. I want to protest that he'll be too cold, but I keep my mouth shut. He wants to do this for me and I want to let him.

In the lobby of the hotel, Remus takes my hand. I stop walking and close my eyes. I remember how perfectly our hands fit together even though his are much bigger than mine. I remember how perfectly we fit together.

My eyes still closed, I feel Remus put his arms around me, enveloping me completely. My head rests on his chest while my arms wrap around his waist.

"I love you, Nymphadora," Remus whispers into my ear. Over and over the past ten months he has told me this. But I had stopped telling him back. No longer.

"I love you, too, Remus," I say softly. I look up, wondering how I will ever thank him for forcing me to come here, the chance to go forward with our lives.

He lowers his head and kisses me gently on the lips, right in the middle of the hotel lobby. It is a chaste kiss, but one that promises so much more.

And suddenly, I want more. I want to move on. I want the chance to hold a baby, our baby, in my arms. I had thought that by even thinking of having another baby would be failing Cassie somehow. But I was wrong. I want to celebrate my daughter. I want another child.

I take Remus' hand and we walk to the elevators. We walk inside and are alone. The moment the door is closed, I pull Remus to me and kiss him. Really kiss him. His arms are around my waist and he is crushing me to him. Within moments, I feel his hardness against me. And it just feels so damn right.

The elevator doors open and we don't break away. I don't want anything to break this fragile connection we have somehow managed to find again. Remus fumbles through his trouser pockets, looking for the Muggle key to the hotel room. When he takes too long, I take out my wand and non-verbally open the door.

We make it to the bed and are lying next to each other. Remus breaks away. I can see there is some hesitation in his eyes, which are so bright. He is afraid.

"What do you want?" he whispers as he caresses my cheek.

I lean my head back and close my eyes. I want to tell him that I am afraid, too. Because the world we live in isn't a fair world. It is a world where a seventeen year old boy will sacrifice his own life so that the rest of us can live. A world where even the most coveted of babies can die without a moment's notice. There are no guarantees in this world and I am finally ready to accept that.

My eyes open and I look at him again. His eyes, still fearful, are mixed with something beautiful. They are mixed with hope. I quickly scrunch my nose and Remus' face tells me I've changed my hair from brown to pink. I pull him on top of me and take his hand.

"I want us to make a baby."