I do not see you again for a good few months, and in that time I cling to the hope that you awoke within me on that cold Christmas day. It is like a lifeline to me and I hold to it in the hope that when your dreadful mission finally ends you will still be the man I love with all my heart. That you will be salvageable, not broken beyond repair. But as the weeks pass and the only news of you I hear is that you are 'coping the best you can', I begin to fear that maybe my flame of hope is unfounded and the man I love is slowly being torn away from me. I feel physically sick at the thought and pray to whatever gods may be that you are given the strength you need to overcome this. It seems so incredibly unfair to me that after all the pain you have suffered, you have been asked once again to put your feelings aside and go through hell for the sake of others. I cannot help my resentment towards the man who sent you there and I find myself unable to look him in the eye whenever I see him.
As the sun rises following the April full moon, I go through my usual routine of sitting at the breakfast table, a cold cup of tea before me, trying to picture where you are and just what damage has been done to you this time around. But just as I reach for my wand to warm my tea an owl knocks on the window. Sighing I get up to let it in, my mind not prepared for the message that awaits me:
Tonks,
Attack last night. Child dead. Please come to the Hogwarts infirmary as soon as possible – urgent.
Moody
As I read the message, I feel as though my heart has stopped and the air I am breathing is trapped in my lungs. It seems like the world has stopped for a split second and I struggle to think anything at all. Then all to soon the dam that was keeping my thoughts at bay breaks and I am flooded with worry. I flee straight out of the door and apparate to the gates of Hogwarts castle in a state of utter panic. It seems to take forever for me to reach the hallway leading to the hospital wing, but as I reach the door I find my feet have stopped moving and I cannot go in. Once again my mind is overwhelmed with thoughts – What if you're hurt or worse dead? What if it was you who attacked this child? I know you would never be the same then. You would be lost forever and for what?! I feel the familiar anger rise within me once again, pushing my fear for you to the side for a moment.
Finally I hear footsteps behind me and before I know it a warm hand is resting on my shoulder and a calm, familiar voice whispering in my ear.
"Go Nymphadora. He needs you, even if he is not willing enough to admit it"
I find the words soothe me and as I take the step forwards through the swing doors I close my eyes and pray that when they open you will be waiting there in one piece and a huge smile on your face and your arms open waiting for my embrace. Somehow though I know that this will not be the case.