Author's Note: So, the first chapter's emotion, scared, was actually a prompt. However, I kind of liked playing with the format/idea of there being one word that can encompass someone's life and influence their death. For Nymphadora, the word I chose to represent her was loyalty. Reviews, as always, are appreciated!
The monster is back.
The sound sends shivers up her spine as her breath hitches. Dora's heard it before, on rare occasions. Only at night. Only when she's supposed to be sleeping and she sneaks out of bed to visit the loo. Normally, she creeps away to hide under her blankets until sleep finds her again. But not tonight.
Gathering courage around her like a cloak of invisibility, she tiptoes, barefoot, across the chilly floor. When she cracks the door, she's relieved to find not something that nightmares are made of but her mother, sitting in the desk chair. But...she's crying. Only, that can't be right, because Mummy never cries.
As far as she knows, no one likes to cry alone, so she sidles up to the chair. Mummy looks surprised, at first, before welcoming Dora onto her lap as she brushes away the remnants of tears.
"Why are you crying, Mummy?"
"It's silly adult things, Nymphadora."
"Don't call me that!"
She huffs indignantly, but her mother just smiles.
"I thought you were supposed to be in bed."
"I was." She hesitates for a moment. "Did someone make you sad?"
"In a way. I guess I just miss them more than I imagined I would."
Dora isn't sure who or what Mummy is talking about, but she buries herself deeper in those safe, warm arms anyway.
"It'll be OK, Mummy. At least you have me, and I'll never leave you."
...oOo...
"He's dead. My father is..."
The voice trails off as the tears are finally loosed from their confines. Dora chews her lip as she watches her dormmate. Her own father is safe at home. What would she do if something were to ever happen to him? The thought alone is enough to send a shiver cascading down her spine.
There are no words. There will never be words for this. Dora slips into bed with the other Hufflepuff, pulling her knees to her chest, and just sits. It won't make it better; nothing in the world can. She doesn't hesitate as the other girl leans into her, simply snakes an arm around the shaking shoulders. Wordlessly. Silently.
Some things don't need to be said, yet she says them anyway, for her own sake.
"It'll be OK. You don't have to do this alone."
...oOo...
Her heart races.
Not for the first time, she questions the wisdom of her decisions. Her mentor must sense her insecurity, because he turns his good eye to her, the other circling wildly in his head.
"Ya need to decide if this is really what ya want, Tonks. If not, I'm better off doin' this alone."
His words cut her to the quick. Is this what she wants? No, she decides, even if there's a small voice nagging her that says yes. But she follows Mad-Eye anyway, into the poorly lit alley, because, damn it, she's trained hard to be there and she won't ditch him during a mission.
The darkness swallows them, and the bustle of the city fades away as they go deeper into the outskirts, where all the secrets and shadows dwell. It's a bad part of town, one that she's not particularly eager to go, but the wizard they're supposed to capture will be there. Mad-Eye seems sure of it, and his judgment is often keen. She's learned that much, at least.
When they find him, he's alone, and Mad-Eye waves for her to hang back. He enters the building alone, and she doesn't even put up a fuss.
He's disappointed, she can tell. He expected more from her. They all did. The last thing she wants is to let everyone down, but training has been tough, and her confidence is shaken. It's one wizard; he doesn't need her.
But then the shadows move, and there are two, then three, then four black masses squeezing into the building. Is this what she wants? Yes, she decides, even if there's a small voice nagging her that says no. She plunges into the building, sneaking, even though it's not her forte. She manages to dispatch one of the wizards undetected, even though she nearly failed the stealth exam.
Then she's finally made it to Mad-Eye, and they stand back-to-back, wands at the ready. There are four shadows surrounding them, but the odds are still in their favor. With a smile, she lets her mentor know, in a low voice, that she's made her decision:
"Let's do this together."
...oOo...
Slowly, between stolen glances, he steals her heart.
He warns her away, time and again, but she refuses to hear it; she's inherited her parents' stubbornness. A monster cannot love, he insists. Does not deserve to love. Should not love. But when she looks into his eyes, his soul mirrors hers. They are not a perfect match. She is young; he is old. She is outgoing; he is reserved. She trusts her emotions; he relies on logic. The love she feels for him is real. They are not a perfect match, but they balance each other perfectly.
He is afraid to bring her down, because a werewolf is not welcome, as far as most wizards are concerned, but she's no stranger to being an outcast. She doesn't care about the world. It isn't about them. It never has been.
When she sees the happy couple, a half-Veela and a wolfish human, she knows it's possible, if only he would understand.
"She still loves him. She doesn't care," Dora whispers, and she feels Remus' will bending. It's not true understanding, not yet, but it's a start. At least she has something to work with.
She slips her hand in his. For a change, he doesn't retreat into his shell. His strong hand envelops hers, and he squeezes it for the briefest of seconds. She leans in to whisper.
"It'll be OK. You don't have to do this alone."
...oOo...
He's gone, but she's not alone.
Dora can feel the life stirring inside her already, strong and vibrant. It gives her hope for the next generation. It gives her a reason to fight, because the thought of bringing a life into this world that is falling apart around them absolutely terrifies her. She's happy to know that their family is growing and their love is preserved eternally in the child that will be a little bit of each of them.
Remus is happy, too, but it's shadowed by doubt. He fears the curse of lycanthropy, but she does not. She does not dread it in the man and will not in her child. It is still a burden that he feels he must carry alone, but she refuses to let him. So she waits patiently, because his insecurities are their insecurities, and though he must face his demons alone, she doesn't intend to abandon him on the battlefield.
There is a knock at the door, and she knows he's returned. She never believed for a second that he wouldn't, but, like a lot of men, he takes time to recognize his foolishness. Mum is less than happy with him and lets him know it as she opens the door. Of course she is; she would never run. But even Dad is running, rather than betraying his morals. There is no shame in running, so long as you remember where it is you'll return to. No one can really run forever.
When she approaches, he looks away, trying to hide the shame and anger that are reflected in his eyes and failing miserably. She takes his hand.
"Let's do this together."
...oOo...
The room was still.
No one even dared to breathe, lest it be true.
"Maybe...maybe they're wrong. Maybe it-, it's a mix-up. I mean, he can't be—"
Remus says the words, but no one believes it. There was no mistaking it. Potterwatch had never been wrong, and they aren't wrong when they call the name "Edward Tonks," no matter how much they wish it is.
Mum sits on the couch stoically, but her resolve is crumbling, flecking away bit by bit. Dora's reminded of the woman crying behind closed doors, mourning the loss of a family she was turned out of for refusing to forsake the man she loved. Not regretting—never regretting—but acknowledging the loss and giving it permission to exist.
She curled up on the couch next to her mother, pulling her feet up and leaning into her for strength. The world blurred, and her tears became too heavy to blink back. They fell, slowly at first, and then flowing freely, before she could stop them.
"Oh, Nymphadora...Dora..."
For once, she wishes Mum had stopped at her full name, because it hurts too much to hear her nickname and to be reminded that he will never utter it again.
"It'll be OK, Mummy. I'll never leave you."
...oOo...
Her heart is breaking.
She's torn between worlds. Teddy needs her, will always need her, but he's not the only one. As she holds him, pressed to her chest, letting their heartbeats meld together, they are all out fighting a war. It's all for him, for the prospect of a future he will grow up in. How could she not be there?
Her husband, whom she vowed to always be one with. Her colleagues, whom she promised she would look after. As much as she yearns to stay, she knows her place is out there, and she won't abandon her friends so easily.
When she enters the living room, Mum is sitting in a rocking chair, staring at the door. She knows—that's obvious—but she won't stand in the way. She never has.
Dora places Teddy gently in her arms, kissing him lightly on the forehead. She mirrors the sentiment with her mother, touching her lips to the woman's forehead as a silent apology for breaking her heart.
"I'm sorry, but I have to leave you."
...oOo...
The world is still. Her mind is sluggish.
All around her, the battle still rages on, but it somehow feels distant, like a nightmare she's slowly waking up from. Time seems to slow around her, like she's not really a part of it anymore. When she looks down, she sees...herself—paler, stiffer.
The panic sets in with short, gasping breaths as the truth dawns on her: she's dead. And her son...No, her son is safe with her mother. With all of her heart, she hopes that he can assuage the guilt she must feel for outliving both a husband and a daughter.
A rush of calm settles over her as a familiar figure approaches—that brave, foolish man. His blue eyes reflect her own sadness, but, at the very least, neither of them is alone.
Before them, a figure is borne from the darkness, shadows rising up into a black, wispy cloak. His voice, like the wheeze of dying lungs, rings out.
"Do you fear me?"
Dora hesitates, glancing at the man she vowed to spend her life with. She slips her hand into his, hoping that the gesture says all the things she 's feeling: I'll never leave you, you don't have to do this alone, let's do this together.
She turns back to the figure in front of her.
"No."