AN- Just so you know, I have only four chapters planned for this story, as I have lumped the months into seasons, so expect only one more. If I choose to do a third installemnt, it will be called Return of the Private Journal.
MarchDear Journal,
More bad news, it never ends. Ron Weasley, Harry's best mate, almost died on his birthday. He was poisoned by a bottle of mead from Slughorn's office. Another mysterious little accident. Luckily, Harry shoved a bezoar in his mouth and saved his life. I think he's still in the hospital wing, but he's going to be ok.
I went to see Molly after she came back from Hogwarts, to try and comfort her, as she's done for me so many times. Arthur had already plied her with tea and whiskey, a smart move, I think. She was far from calm, but seemed under control. I told her everything I could think of to make her feel better, assuring her as she had already know that her Ron was going to be all right.
The poor woman, she's suffered so much. This is the third of her family in recent years to come so close to death, Ginny in her second year at Hogwarts, and her husband in the last. It makes me think of when she confronted that boggart back in Grimauld Place. She saw her worst nightmare come to life, all her kin lying dead at her feet. Remus had consoled her, he is so kind.
Did you know she'd lost two brothers to You-Know-Who? Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Mad-Eye told me about them, said they were the best wizards of their age, and that they died like heroes. It took five Death Eaters to finish them. I know Molly is proud of them, but I also know it's made her all the more weary of loss. How could it not? She would in fact be a fool to not be worried, I think.
Eventually, after a few more cups of fortified tea, Molly finally relaxed. Unexpectedly, she turned the topic of conversation on me and asked about Remus. I sighed heavily, because I hadn't told her yet any of the events that had happened on Christmas. I'd thought about telling her, but something about it made me feel like keeping it private. Yet, I let a tiny smile play around my mouth, knowing she'd enjoy hearing the tale. I thought that after the day she'd had, it might cheer her up to be in on it. And yes, I was also interested in hearing her opinion.
I told her everything, and despite my initial reluctance, I found myself enjoying telling her, it was actually relieving to get it off my chest and get it out into the open. But to my disappointment, her look was not encouraging as usual as I had expected, but had returned to wearied disquiet. I asked her what was wrong, and she said it could be nothing, but that no one's heard from Remus since his Christmas outing. I stood up at once, alarmed, Molly threw her arms out, saying it could mean nothing at all, that it could be normal. He was after all, undercover.
But he was supposed to be living among the werewolves, right? He'd chanced a few hours out to visit everyone for Christmas, then risked even more to come see me in Hogsmeade. A horrible sense of guilt rushed into my stomach. If something had happened to him, it would be all my fault.
Apparently, the owl he sent me was the last time he'd contacted anybody. Molly tried pointlessly to settle me, saying there was no reason to worry, because if something had gone wrong, Dumbledore would have known.
But what if he didn't? He sent me into that mission back in August not knowing about how I felt for Remus. The man is great, there's no doubt, but what if something went wrong and he doesn't know? What if they're holding him captive or something? I lied to Molly, as I had lied to everyone else and I told her I would be fine, and that I wouldn't fret, at the same time, mentally resolving to contact Dumbledore as soon as possible.
How could I be so stupid? If only I hadn't been so stubborn, if only I had gone to the burrow for Christmas, the Remus wouldn't have gone looking for me. God, if he's hurt, or worse, it's all my bloody fault.
April
I talked it over with Proudfoot, Savage, and Dawlish. To my dismay, they have heard rumors about unrest in the werewolf community. Apparently, they had some kind of internal uprising, that was quickly extinguished when Greyback attacked the upstart. I felt my heart stop at this, my body becoming light and weak, my vision fuzzy, I found myself forgetting to even breathe.
Trying to be brave, I struggled to engage in the rest of our meeting, straining hard not to think about Remus. I'd already let my emotions compromise my work, I couldn't keep making a habit of that no matter how I felt.
This has been the most challenging year of my life in many ways, more difficult by far than Hogwarts, or Auror training, or anything. Having to be strong in the face of so much adversary has both strengthened and diminished me. The hardest part is Remus, being away from him, not knowing if he's safe. I think of him every waking moment. In a way, he's my reason to go on.
Even if he doesn't want me, I need to do everything I can to make sure the world will become safe again for someone as good as him to live in. Not just to be alive, but to live properly, and to have a normal life, with all the wonderful things I used to take for granted. Security, freedom, a nice creamy scoop of Florean's ice cream. They time when my life was normal seems like another lifetime ago. Nothing is normal now.
War is hell.
We think that someone is trying to kill Dumbledore. Before Katie was cursed, she'd said she had to bring the necklace to someone. The poisoned mead in Slughorn's study was meant for Dumbledore. It's a theory in progress, you might say. Whoever is doing it all is very sloppy indeed, doesn't seem to be too concerned about who they hurt, making them even more dangerous.
The other theory is that it's a Death Eater who is carrying out what he believes to be pranks, but instead of targeting Muggles, has taken to harming the innocent. But as the victims have both been students, maybe it's a throw at Dumbledore.
I've been reading the paper everyday. They seem to be a bit behind. Dung was arrested for impersonating an inferius a month ago, and it's only shown up in the Prophet last week. Stupid git. He's done even more damage in endangering the Order than I have, and that's saying something.
I did owl Dumbledore as soon as I got home from the burrow that day. When he didn't reply, I owled him again, and when I found that reply wholly placatory and unsatisfactory, I marched into the school to see him, but he wasn't there.
I ran into Harry. I was so frustrated at Dumbledore not being there, and worried about Remus, thinking about the rumors I'd heard that I didn't even know what he was saying. To my embarrassment, I found myself starting to well up so I had to say goodbye to him.
I hurried home so I could cry in private. I miss him so much. It kills me to not know where he is, to not know if he's unharmed or even alive. It's not about moving on anymore, it's not about romance at all. It's about protecting the lives of the innocent. I am still depressed, but more determined than ever to do my work in the Order.
May
No word from anyone about Remus. I feel dead inside.
It's been five months now since he kissed me, yet I can still feel his lips on mine. His smell, his memory haunts me every moment. Every heartbeat, I feel him, I miss him. I've never been so miserable in my entire life. I don't even know if he's still alive. I'm not even so sure I am. Can you call this a life?
Katie Bell is back in school, but she doesn't remember anything that happened to her. We still think she meant to give that necklace to Dumbledore, but we've gathered no proof. I live in a world now with only questions, and no answers.
I'm a shadow of my former self. I sort of miss having crazy hair, but I've long since lost the ability to change it. It hangs now lank and limp and I don't even care. I used to love changing it everyday. I used to enjoy going from a turquoise buzz cut to having it long and tomato red. I don't remember anymore why I thought that was so much fun. I remember changing faces at dinner for the kids, but I don't remember why.
When I first discovered that I was a metamorphmagus, it was like a dream come true. Imagine, being able to change shape or form at anytime. It was such a treasured gift. Now it's gone and I don't even care. Or maybe it's just the least of my worries.
My mates have all but forgotten about me, all carrying on with their simple, unperturbed lives in London, not a care in the world. It seems like another lifetime ago when I hung out with them, when I hadn't a care either. Yet I'm still here. Still reading the news everyday, still watching the sky for owls. I only leave my flat now to attend meetings, it's gotten so bad. No one knows where Remus is, though they all try to tell me that no news is good news.
I've spent countless tortured hours debating whether I should send Remus an owl or not. I haven't because I've decided that if I did, it could be the proverbial nail in his coffin. If I send him an owl, it would only be to quell my fears, and it wouldn't do anything to help him.
Every night I pray, and every day my prayers go unanswered, but instead of stopping me, it only makes me pray harder.
I'm quite sure that I've lost my mind.
Yours Insanely,
N. Tonks
AN- I do this all for free and fun, but if you're reading this, pleased take the time to pay me with a review.