Wardkey #483O-9GH - Entry in Nymphadora Tonks' paper journal
I saw my husband tonight. For a few hours, in a sketchy Muggle pub in a terrible part of London, we were alone. A few hours together. More than I thought we would get. I thought he was dying, broken. I was broken, dying, ready to kill anyone who would keep me from him, regardless of the consequences. We were both entirely fragile. But he looked at me and in just seconds, (I was the girl with pink curls dancing with him in his living room to Sarah Vaughn.)