Tonks wakes again in a red haze of agony. The tangy, sickening odor of sweat and blood fills her nostrils.
But this time, not all is still. Now she hears the clamor of a vicious brawl.
She peers outside her dirty cell to witness the horrifying sight of two werewolves locked in the heat of battle.
Snarling, they bite and slash at each other brutally, warring like savages.
It is clear that each means to fight to the death, they give no quarter.
One werewolf is smaller, she notices, and seems to be losing.
The other is larger and far more ferocious.
Their long, glistening fangs bared, their deadly claws flashing, she cringes at the sight of them tearing into each other. The din of their yelps and blows and roars is deafening.
Out of adrenaline possibly, the pain clears from her aching body and she becomes engrossed in the fight, her hands wrap desperately around the bars of her putrid cell.
She doesn't know why, but she knows instinctively that the outcome of this battle will profoundly affect her fate.
The two werewolves are both unrecognizable to her, she'd known neither one before. Yet something tells her to root for the smaller one, the underdog.
The one who is losing, bleeding.
Then, she remembers in a sudden painful flash, how she'd gotten here.
Greyback. He'd grabbed her right outside of her own flat with absurd ease.
'Some bloody auror you are,' she thinks ruefully, ignoring that Fenir was much older and had a few more tricks up his sleeve than she anticipated.
Her mind is cloudy, but she decides that the larger, fiercer werewolf must be Greyback. Who else could be so intimidating?
She realizes with an abrupt pang, who the other werewolf most likely is.
The small one. The dying one.
"NOOO!!!" She howls, panic ripping through her.
"STOP! YOU BASTARD, LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She cries, her scream tearing her throat, but they take no notice.
The larger, more fearsome wolf lunges and delivers a fatal, bone crunching bite to the jugular of the smaller wolf. He howls in pain and convulses a few moments before becoming perfectly still.
Thick red blood pours from the wound, pooling on the floor all around him.
Tonks screams louder than ever, her throat burning, her eyes steaming.
'Please,' she prays, 'please let that not have been Remus...'
But she hasn't time to complete her entreaty.
The enormous, terrifying lycanthrope is stalking toward her, his muzzle dripping with blood.
A tiny window, high above her reveals that the moon is sinking, and the first dazzling, yellow rays of sun are about to burst forth.
AN- Sorry about the cliffhanger. Tee-hee. Review.