Awake
Title: Awake
Author: jncar
Rating & Warnings: PG-13, swearing, disturbing content
Prompts: Acromantula, Horror and Gen, picture 18 (Whomping Willow tree)
Word Count: 3,512
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Tonks desperately hopes that someone realizes that things aren’t always what they seem.
Author’s Notes: This is more Twilight Zone-y kind of horror than slasher kind of horror. If you hated JKR for what she did to our favorite couple in DH, then you will REALLY hate me after this story. But horror stories aren’t supposed to be happy, right?
Awake
She stands side by side with Remus, ignoring his cries to leave. She knows what will happen to Teddy and her mother if they fail. It’s not an option. She has to fight.
She spins, conjuring a Shield Charm, while Remus returns fire at their attackers. They will be going home hand in hand bringing news of a safe free world with them, or they won’t be going home at all. She’s made up her mind.
Bright flashes of red, green, and white pierce the dark night. It looks almost like a grim Christmas fireworks display.
Their attackers press harder, driving them back toward the Whomping Willow. Its limbs tremble threateningly in stark silhouette against the moon-lit sky.
With every new barrage of curses she and Remus edge closer and closer to the shivering tree.
One powerful spell-blast sends both of them tumbling to the ground.
Suddenly, a gigantic limb crashes down inches from her face. They’ve come too close to the tree.
She and Remus roll wildly, evading the thrashing limbs of the angry tree. As she casts a hasty Shield Charm to ward off another blow, she hears an eerily familiar cackling laugh. Remus grabs her arm, and with a powerful lunge he propels them both out of the range of the deadly plant.
She tumbles to the ground again, and Remus leaps in front of her to block the new barrage of curses surging toward them.
Just as she succeeds in scrambling to her feet, a green blast hits him square in the chest.
He topples limply to the ground.
She feels frozen in place as she stares at his motionless body.
Oh God…he’s gone…
She doesn’t even notice Bellatrix raising her wand.
******
She feels herself falling forward, landing hard across Remus’s prone form.
Her eyes are wide open, and she sees the scraggly lawn beneath her. She can’t move. Her limbs won’t respond. She can’t even close her eyes. What’s happening to her?
Is this death? Am I supposed to be gone?
Bellatrix’s cackling laugh sounds loud in her ears. “I finally have you, little Nymphie-dora. Crucio!”
Dora feels the unbearable pain suffusing her body, but though screams echo through her mind, none escape her lips. She is frozen-immovable.
Bellatrix laughs again as she releases the curse. Dora’s body remains face-down, slumped over the lifeless form of her husband. She wants to scream-she wants to cry-she wants to fight. But nothing happens.
No matter how hard she wills her body to move, or her mouth to open, she remains immobile.
Her eyes won’t even blink.
How come I’m not dead?
She feels two small hands gripping her arm, roughly pulling her over to stare up at the starry sky.
Bellatrix stands over her, smiling in triumph.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself, dear ickle Nymphie-dora. How do you like my new curse? I do so hope it’s working properly-I only invented it last month, and I haven’t had time to test it properly.” She laughs again.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you alone for now, but at least you have your sweetheart to keep you company.” She chuckles, and Dora wants to scream in rage and grief.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to take you with me to pay a visit to my dear sister and that filthy little half-breed whelp you squeezed out. I’ll let you watch what I do to them. It’ll be a wonderful time-a little girl-to-girl bonding, just the two of us. But first, I’ve got to help finish off that wretch Potter and his filthy friends. I’m sure I won’t be long.”
Teddy…Mum…I’ve got to stop her. I’ve got to save them! Why did I come here? Remus was right…
With another peal of laughter, Bellatrix stands up and strolls out of Dora’s range of sight.
She lies still, striving with all her might to will a finger to move-an eye to blink.
She isn’t even breathing.
Why can’t I move? Why won’t I die? What has she done to me?
The thought of Remus lying lifeless beneath her fills her with unimaginable grief-and she can’t even shed a single tear.
******
The sounds of battle are further away now, receding toward the castle.
A new sound fills her ears-an inhuman scuttling that draws ever closer.
The scuttling sound is joined by a low, menacing hiss and a quick clicking noise. The sounds are coming closer…and closer…
She feels something stepping on her leg.
Suddenly the black eyes and moist, clicking mandibles of an Acromantula loom over her. It hisses, and she sees her own reflection in its many eyes.
I look like a corpse.
But she’s not dead. Remus may be gone, but Teddy and her mother are still there. They need her. She can’t give up.
The hairy face draws ever closer to hers, and the dozens of ghastly images of her deathly face balloon like a corpse bloating with noxious gasses. She can feel the spindly spider legs rubbing against her arms and legs. The mandibles snap and click in front of her face.
Her skin is crawling and another scream wells up inside of her, but she cannot move and no sound escapes her lips. There is nothing she can do to stop the Acromantula’s attack.
It lunges forward, crushing her upper arm between the serrated edges of its venomous mandibles.
She tries to thrash, to scream, to fight, to kick, but her body remains limp and motionless. Has it really come to this? Is she really going to be eaten alive by a giant spider?
Help me! Oh, God…Somebody please help me!
The Acromantula hisses, and digs it’s mandibles in even deeper. She wants to faint. She can’t turn off her mind. She can’t escape from the pain.
A blast of red light surrounds the spider, knocking it off of her. Ragged bits of her flesh cling to its mandibles and rip from her arm as the Acromantula tumbles away from her.
The giant spider emits a clicking screech, and scuttles away.
Two young men in Gryffindor uniforms loom over her.
“We’re too late,” says one of them.
“Damn it!” curses the other. “Look. It’s Professor Lupin and his wife. They’re both gone. Didn’t they just have a baby?”
The first-his pale face battered and bruised-shakes his head with a determined frown. “No child should have to grow up without his parents. I really liked Professor Lupin. He cared about me. He believed in me…”
A high, cold voice permeates the air. “You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery…”
He knows how to destroy families. How to corrupt children…This can’t be the end…I need to get home to Teddy. He can’t lose both of his parents tonight.
The voice continues to reverberate all around her. “Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”
Please let someone examine me. Please let them help me. I need to see my son again.
She listens with mounting anger as Voldemort issues his personal challenge to Harry Potter.
Don’t do it Harry. You can’t give up. I won’t give up, and neither should you!
The voice ceases, and the grounds fall into sudden silence.
“What do we do now, Neville?” says one of the Gryffindors to his pale battered companion.
“Let’s get them inside. We shouldn’t leave them here like this.
Dora feels relief spreading through her as she is levitated slowly toward the castle, with Remus’s body floating peacefully alongside her.
She wishes she could turn away from him. It hurts too much. She can’t think about losing him right now. She has to focus on Teddy. She can’t give up hope.
******
She is placed gently on the floor of the Great Hall in a long line of bodies. Out of the corner of her unmoving eyes Dora can see the Weasley family gathered around a body nearby.
Not one of the Weasleys, too! Why? Why?
As she lies surrounded by so much grief, the full impact of losing Remus begins to sink in. She wants to weep. She wants to fight.
All she can do is wait, and hope.
Ginny Weasley kneels over her, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m so sorry, Tonks,” she whispers. “You would have been such a wonderful mum.”
Touch me! Feel me! I’m still here Ginny! I can still be a mother for my son! Please!
Ginny reaches toward her, and gently closes her eyes.
The world is dark.
But Dora is still awake.
******
Pain still throbs in her maimed arm. The sounds of grief, anger and fear swirl around her.
She has never felt more helpless in her life.
The voices around her ebb and flow, growing alternately louder and softer. No one seems to know what to do next.
Someone please help me. I can’t die like this. Please!
The cold, harsh voice once again fills the air around her. “Harry Potter is dead.”
The voice continues, taunting them, hammering home their defeat. Dora can’t stand it. Remus’s death can’t have been for nothing. All their sacrifices can’t have been for nothing.
I need to protect my son. Please! Someone help me protect my son!
There is screaming. Shouting. She can hear the sound of battle again out on the grounds.
Yes. Don’t give up. Even without Harry…maybe we can still win…maybe I can still save my son…
She can hear the battle moving closer to her, back inside the castle. It rages through the Great Hall.
She tries desperately to hear what is happening, but it is too chaotic.
Then, silence overtakes the crowd. Only two voices ring through the hall. Harry! Harry is still alive! He is facing Voldemort!
Hope surges through her. She’ll see her son again! Harry will win! She knows it.
As cheers of joy and exaltation fill the hall she knows it is over.
Thank you, Harry. I can go home to my son. Thank you.
******
Her mind is calm and at peace. She knows that everything will be all right. It’s only a matter of time before they find her, and find a way to revive her. The pain of losing Remus still fills her, but it is tempered by the joyful knowledge that Teddy is safe, and that she will see him again soon. She has to cling to that joy, or the grief will swallow her whole.
Eventually, she feels her body being lifted and moved. Someone is bound to feel something different about her. Someone is bound to realize that she is still awake.
The murmuring voices around her are frustrating. Why do people feel compelled to whisper around the dead? It’s not like the noise will wake them up.
Except for me.
She finally hears enough to know that she is being moved to a funeral facility.
I’m still alive! Send me to St. Mungo’s-not to the mortuary! Please-let me see my son again.
Finally she hears a familiar voice-the soothing tones of Madam Pomfrey. A Healer! At last! Surely she will see the signs of continuing life. Surely she’ll know how to make things right.
Dora feels her arms being folded gently across her chest.
“She was such a rambunctious girl. She had to come to the hospital wing nearly a dozen times a year.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice quavers as she speaks. “She was too young to die like this. Too young.”
Dora hears footsteps moving away from her.
No! You were supposed to help me! Come back! I’m still here! I’m trapped! Please!
Her desperation grows by the hour as she is transported to the mortuary. Dispassionate technicians banter jovially as they move her to a cold storage room. They are excited by the end of the war. Too excited to notice that she is different from the other bodies.
She feels a smooth, cool sheet being draped over her.
She has no idea how long she lies there in the cold darkness, weeping inside her mind.
******
Warmth pierces her closed eyelids. Someone’s turned on a light.
Soft footsteps move toward her.
The sheet is pulled away from her face.
“Take your time, Mrs. Tonks. Just let us know when you’re ready, and we can sit down and work out the final arrangements.”
Footsteps move away from her, and a soft warm hand covers her own.
Am I really that cold?
“Nymphadora…Why? Why did you leave us? Oh, God, why…?” Her mother’s voice deteriorates into great heaving sobs, and Dora feels her mother slumping over her, clinging to her.
I’m so sorry Mum. I was wrong to leave. I’ll make it up to you-I promise. Just notice that something’s not right here. Notice that I’m different. Notice something-anything! Please...I’ll come back to you. I’ll never leave you again. Just notice that I’m still here! Please!
Her mother continues to sob and shake and hold her while she cries and screams in her mind. But no one can hear her.
Eventually, her mother releases her and walks away.
******
She silently weeps inside her mind as her clothes are roughly cut away from her body, and she is scrubbed with icy cold water.
The morticians murmur preservation spells over her. They wouldn’t have done that if they had any inkling she was still alive.
What did Bellatrix do to her?
They stuff her into her new clothes as roughly as if she were a sack of turnips.
Dora is more afraid now than she ever was on the battlefield.
More and more she is starting to believe that no one will ever notice that she is trapped. They’ll bury her, and her soul will be stuck forever in the earth, anchored eternally to her rotting corpse.
As much as she wants to see Teddy again, she would far rather die than face that fate.
Will I ever die? Will I ever be with Remus again?
******
She lies in the tight confines of her coffin.
Every time the lid closes, she is terrified that it will be the last.
They keep moving her from place to place.
Finally, the darkness lifts as her coffin is opened again. They begin to fuss over her hands and hair again. They stuff some flowers in her hands, and one of them mutters that they’ve put her wand in the wrong place. He moves it to a new location inside her coffin.
This must be it.
The funeral.
If no one notices her condition here, it will all be over.
Gradually, the soft murmur of voices fills the room.
“She looks so peaceful…so lifelike. It’s almost like she’s sleeping,” says Ginny. “Fred looked horrid-like some awful doll that had been made to look human. But Tonks looks almost normal.”
I am normal, Ginny. Please-tell someone I’m normal. I’m still here. Oh, God, please! Tell someone I’m still awake!
“It really is a noticeable difference,” says Hermione. “I’ll have to read up on magical preservation techniques sometime.”
“Don’t be so morbid.”
“I’m not being morbid! I just…I’ve never been around people who’ve died before this week. And now I’ve been around so many. I’m still never sure what to say.”
Ginny sighs. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
They are silent for a moment. Hermione speaks again. “Something else that confuses me-Neville told me that an Acromantula was trying to eat her. But she didn’t die of the Acromantula bite. She must have already been dead. But Acromantula’s don’t eat dead animals-only living prey. So why was it after her?”
Thank God for Hermione. She sees-she’ll know. I’m still awake, and she’ll figure it out. She’ll save me. Please, Hermione. Just think it through. You’ll see…please…
“I can’t have this conversation right now, Hermione. Next time you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything at all.”
“I’m sorry…!”
She hears both of the girls walking away.
No! NO! Hermione was supposed to save me. She was supposed to know!
Other voices filter past her.
Some stop to bid her a personal goodbye.
Some even lightly pat her hand or her cheeks.
All the while she screams for them to notice. She weeps, and hollers, and shouts. But she is the only one who hears.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you and Remus,” says Harry softly. “I never wanted this to happen. I’m so, so sorry.”
Don’t be sorry, damn you! Help me! Help me! Don’t let them bury me like this!
“I promise I’ll take good care of Teddy for you. I’ll help your mum as much as I can. I promise.”
She feels him patting her hand, and there is a rustling in the coffin beside her. Did he put in some sort of memento?
The murmurs in the room are dying down. Everyone is leaving.
More footfalls approach. “Let’s say goodbye to your mum, Teddy,” says her mother.
She hears Teddy’s small gurgles and coos. After a moment, he starts to cry.
She feels like her heart will burst.
Her baby is right there, and she’ll never see him again!
She feels a strange tingling in her breasts. It’s almost like…her milk is letting down.
It’s wearing off. The curse-it’s wearing off! There’s still time. I can still get out.
She feels a warm wetness spreading on her chest.
Please let it show. Please let the milk soak through. Let someone notice!
She struggles to move her fingers and toes, to blink her eyelids, to purse her lips.
Nothing.
Not yet.
Right now, the milk is her only hope.
“Goodbye, Nymphadora,” says her mother, and walks away.
NO! Can’t you see the milk? Can’t you see that I haven’t left you?
More footsteps approach, and she hears two men, talking in low voices. It is the morticians.
They close the coffin.
If she could’ve screamed, it would have been loud enough to break glass.
She is moved again, and for a time she can hear the muffled sound of her own funeral carrying on around her.
But she doesn’t care.
She focuses on her hands, struggling intensely to move her fingers.
She feels the coffin moving again.
They must be taking her to the cemetery.
Not yet! Not yet! I almost have it! Please-not yet!
Her fingers are starting to tingle from the exertion. She can feel the slight expansion of her chest as she begins to breath again.
Then, it happens.
Her finger twitches.
I can do it! It’s not too late!
All her fingers begin to feel looser as her false death slowly releases her. Her lungs fill with air, and her eyelids begin to flutter.
Then, with a sudden jarring motion she feels her coffin descending.
They are lowering her into her grave.
No! Not yet!
Her fingers twitch and jerk stiffly, but she still lacks the strength or coordination to shout or pound against her coffin lid.
The coffin ends its descent, and comes to rest softly on the floor of her grave.
She fights to move her limbs, but they remain stiff and rigid. She fights with all her might against the atrophy in her muscles. She has to win this. Her baby is waiting for her to come home.
A cold chill of terror seeps through her as a new sound assails her ears: the pounding of earth landing on top of her coffin.
A shrill scream forces its way out of her lungs, ripping at her throat and ringing in her ears.
It can’t end like this. It can’t!
Her limbs jerk back to life as she wills herself to fight.
She can hear scoop after scoop of earth pounding against the lid of her coffin.
She screams again, and kicks and pounds.
There is already too much earth atop her for anyone to hear.
My wand! I remember hearing one of the morticians saying something about putting in my wand! All I have to do is find it! I’m not finished yet!
Her stiff hands scramble desperately over the silky lining of the coffin. She has to find the wand. It has to be here…
******
Andromeda’s lips are tight, her eyes cold.
Harry is still a little afraid of her, and he’s sure that he’s done the wrong thing.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have done it. I just…I remembered how I felt when I finally got a cloak that had belonged to my father. It was like a part of him was still with me. And I wanted that for Teddy, too. But I had no right. I’m sorry.”
Andromeda stares down at the object in Harry’s outstretched hands. A single tear winds its way down her cheek.
“No. You did the right thing, Harry,” she says softly. “You’re right. Teddy really should have his mother’s wand.”
The End
Author: jncar
Rating & Warnings: PG-13, swearing, disturbing content
Prompts: Acromantula, Horror and Gen, picture 18 (Whomping Willow tree)
Word Count: 3,512
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Tonks desperately hopes that someone realizes that things aren’t always what they seem.
Author’s Notes: This is more Twilight Zone-y kind of horror than slasher kind of horror. If you hated JKR for what she did to our favorite couple in DH, then you will REALLY hate me after this story. But horror stories aren’t supposed to be happy, right?
Awake
She stands side by side with Remus, ignoring his cries to leave. She knows what will happen to Teddy and her mother if they fail. It’s not an option. She has to fight.
She spins, conjuring a Shield Charm, while Remus returns fire at their attackers. They will be going home hand in hand bringing news of a safe free world with them, or they won’t be going home at all. She’s made up her mind.
Bright flashes of red, green, and white pierce the dark night. It looks almost like a grim Christmas fireworks display.
Their attackers press harder, driving them back toward the Whomping Willow. Its limbs tremble threateningly in stark silhouette against the moon-lit sky.
With every new barrage of curses she and Remus edge closer and closer to the shivering tree.
One powerful spell-blast sends both of them tumbling to the ground.
Suddenly, a gigantic limb crashes down inches from her face. They’ve come too close to the tree.
She and Remus roll wildly, evading the thrashing limbs of the angry tree. As she casts a hasty Shield Charm to ward off another blow, she hears an eerily familiar cackling laugh. Remus grabs her arm, and with a powerful lunge he propels them both out of the range of the deadly plant.
She tumbles to the ground again, and Remus leaps in front of her to block the new barrage of curses surging toward them.
Just as she succeeds in scrambling to her feet, a green blast hits him square in the chest.
He topples limply to the ground.
She feels frozen in place as she stares at his motionless body.
Oh God…he’s gone…
She doesn’t even notice Bellatrix raising her wand.
******
She feels herself falling forward, landing hard across Remus’s prone form.
Her eyes are wide open, and she sees the scraggly lawn beneath her. She can’t move. Her limbs won’t respond. She can’t even close her eyes. What’s happening to her?
Is this death? Am I supposed to be gone?
Bellatrix’s cackling laugh sounds loud in her ears. “I finally have you, little Nymphie-dora. Crucio!”
Dora feels the unbearable pain suffusing her body, but though screams echo through her mind, none escape her lips. She is frozen-immovable.
Bellatrix laughs again as she releases the curse. Dora’s body remains face-down, slumped over the lifeless form of her husband. She wants to scream-she wants to cry-she wants to fight. But nothing happens.
No matter how hard she wills her body to move, or her mouth to open, she remains immobile.
Her eyes won’t even blink.
How come I’m not dead?
She feels two small hands gripping her arm, roughly pulling her over to stare up at the starry sky.
Bellatrix stands over her, smiling in triumph.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself, dear ickle Nymphie-dora. How do you like my new curse? I do so hope it’s working properly-I only invented it last month, and I haven’t had time to test it properly.” She laughs again.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you alone for now, but at least you have your sweetheart to keep you company.” She chuckles, and Dora wants to scream in rage and grief.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to take you with me to pay a visit to my dear sister and that filthy little half-breed whelp you squeezed out. I’ll let you watch what I do to them. It’ll be a wonderful time-a little girl-to-girl bonding, just the two of us. But first, I’ve got to help finish off that wretch Potter and his filthy friends. I’m sure I won’t be long.”
Teddy…Mum…I’ve got to stop her. I’ve got to save them! Why did I come here? Remus was right…
With another peal of laughter, Bellatrix stands up and strolls out of Dora’s range of sight.
She lies still, striving with all her might to will a finger to move-an eye to blink.
She isn’t even breathing.
Why can’t I move? Why won’t I die? What has she done to me?
The thought of Remus lying lifeless beneath her fills her with unimaginable grief-and she can’t even shed a single tear.
******
The sounds of battle are further away now, receding toward the castle.
A new sound fills her ears-an inhuman scuttling that draws ever closer.
The scuttling sound is joined by a low, menacing hiss and a quick clicking noise. The sounds are coming closer…and closer…
She feels something stepping on her leg.
Suddenly the black eyes and moist, clicking mandibles of an Acromantula loom over her. It hisses, and she sees her own reflection in its many eyes.
I look like a corpse.
But she’s not dead. Remus may be gone, but Teddy and her mother are still there. They need her. She can’t give up.
The hairy face draws ever closer to hers, and the dozens of ghastly images of her deathly face balloon like a corpse bloating with noxious gasses. She can feel the spindly spider legs rubbing against her arms and legs. The mandibles snap and click in front of her face.
Her skin is crawling and another scream wells up inside of her, but she cannot move and no sound escapes her lips. There is nothing she can do to stop the Acromantula’s attack.
It lunges forward, crushing her upper arm between the serrated edges of its venomous mandibles.
She tries to thrash, to scream, to fight, to kick, but her body remains limp and motionless. Has it really come to this? Is she really going to be eaten alive by a giant spider?
Help me! Oh, God…Somebody please help me!
The Acromantula hisses, and digs it’s mandibles in even deeper. She wants to faint. She can’t turn off her mind. She can’t escape from the pain.
A blast of red light surrounds the spider, knocking it off of her. Ragged bits of her flesh cling to its mandibles and rip from her arm as the Acromantula tumbles away from her.
The giant spider emits a clicking screech, and scuttles away.
Two young men in Gryffindor uniforms loom over her.
“We’re too late,” says one of them.
“Damn it!” curses the other. “Look. It’s Professor Lupin and his wife. They’re both gone. Didn’t they just have a baby?”
The first-his pale face battered and bruised-shakes his head with a determined frown. “No child should have to grow up without his parents. I really liked Professor Lupin. He cared about me. He believed in me…”
A high, cold voice permeates the air. “You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery…”
He knows how to destroy families. How to corrupt children…This can’t be the end…I need to get home to Teddy. He can’t lose both of his parents tonight.
The voice continues to reverberate all around her. “Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”
Please let someone examine me. Please let them help me. I need to see my son again.
She listens with mounting anger as Voldemort issues his personal challenge to Harry Potter.
Don’t do it Harry. You can’t give up. I won’t give up, and neither should you!
The voice ceases, and the grounds fall into sudden silence.
“What do we do now, Neville?” says one of the Gryffindors to his pale battered companion.
“Let’s get them inside. We shouldn’t leave them here like this.
Dora feels relief spreading through her as she is levitated slowly toward the castle, with Remus’s body floating peacefully alongside her.
She wishes she could turn away from him. It hurts too much. She can’t think about losing him right now. She has to focus on Teddy. She can’t give up hope.
******
She is placed gently on the floor of the Great Hall in a long line of bodies. Out of the corner of her unmoving eyes Dora can see the Weasley family gathered around a body nearby.
Not one of the Weasleys, too! Why? Why?
As she lies surrounded by so much grief, the full impact of losing Remus begins to sink in. She wants to weep. She wants to fight.
All she can do is wait, and hope.
Ginny Weasley kneels over her, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m so sorry, Tonks,” she whispers. “You would have been such a wonderful mum.”
Touch me! Feel me! I’m still here Ginny! I can still be a mother for my son! Please!
Ginny reaches toward her, and gently closes her eyes.
The world is dark.
But Dora is still awake.
******
Pain still throbs in her maimed arm. The sounds of grief, anger and fear swirl around her.
She has never felt more helpless in her life.
The voices around her ebb and flow, growing alternately louder and softer. No one seems to know what to do next.
Someone please help me. I can’t die like this. Please!
The cold, harsh voice once again fills the air around her. “Harry Potter is dead.”
The voice continues, taunting them, hammering home their defeat. Dora can’t stand it. Remus’s death can’t have been for nothing. All their sacrifices can’t have been for nothing.
I need to protect my son. Please! Someone help me protect my son!
There is screaming. Shouting. She can hear the sound of battle again out on the grounds.
Yes. Don’t give up. Even without Harry…maybe we can still win…maybe I can still save my son…
She can hear the battle moving closer to her, back inside the castle. It rages through the Great Hall.
She tries desperately to hear what is happening, but it is too chaotic.
Then, silence overtakes the crowd. Only two voices ring through the hall. Harry! Harry is still alive! He is facing Voldemort!
Hope surges through her. She’ll see her son again! Harry will win! She knows it.
As cheers of joy and exaltation fill the hall she knows it is over.
Thank you, Harry. I can go home to my son. Thank you.
******
Her mind is calm and at peace. She knows that everything will be all right. It’s only a matter of time before they find her, and find a way to revive her. The pain of losing Remus still fills her, but it is tempered by the joyful knowledge that Teddy is safe, and that she will see him again soon. She has to cling to that joy, or the grief will swallow her whole.
Eventually, she feels her body being lifted and moved. Someone is bound to feel something different about her. Someone is bound to realize that she is still awake.
The murmuring voices around her are frustrating. Why do people feel compelled to whisper around the dead? It’s not like the noise will wake them up.
Except for me.
She finally hears enough to know that she is being moved to a funeral facility.
I’m still alive! Send me to St. Mungo’s-not to the mortuary! Please-let me see my son again.
Finally she hears a familiar voice-the soothing tones of Madam Pomfrey. A Healer! At last! Surely she will see the signs of continuing life. Surely she’ll know how to make things right.
Dora feels her arms being folded gently across her chest.
“She was such a rambunctious girl. She had to come to the hospital wing nearly a dozen times a year.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice quavers as she speaks. “She was too young to die like this. Too young.”
Dora hears footsteps moving away from her.
No! You were supposed to help me! Come back! I’m still here! I’m trapped! Please!
Her desperation grows by the hour as she is transported to the mortuary. Dispassionate technicians banter jovially as they move her to a cold storage room. They are excited by the end of the war. Too excited to notice that she is different from the other bodies.
She feels a smooth, cool sheet being draped over her.
She has no idea how long she lies there in the cold darkness, weeping inside her mind.
******
Warmth pierces her closed eyelids. Someone’s turned on a light.
Soft footsteps move toward her.
The sheet is pulled away from her face.
“Take your time, Mrs. Tonks. Just let us know when you’re ready, and we can sit down and work out the final arrangements.”
Footsteps move away from her, and a soft warm hand covers her own.
Am I really that cold?
“Nymphadora…Why? Why did you leave us? Oh, God, why…?” Her mother’s voice deteriorates into great heaving sobs, and Dora feels her mother slumping over her, clinging to her.
I’m so sorry Mum. I was wrong to leave. I’ll make it up to you-I promise. Just notice that something’s not right here. Notice that I’m different. Notice something-anything! Please...I’ll come back to you. I’ll never leave you again. Just notice that I’m still here! Please!
Her mother continues to sob and shake and hold her while she cries and screams in her mind. But no one can hear her.
Eventually, her mother releases her and walks away.
******
She silently weeps inside her mind as her clothes are roughly cut away from her body, and she is scrubbed with icy cold water.
The morticians murmur preservation spells over her. They wouldn’t have done that if they had any inkling she was still alive.
What did Bellatrix do to her?
They stuff her into her new clothes as roughly as if she were a sack of turnips.
Dora is more afraid now than she ever was on the battlefield.
More and more she is starting to believe that no one will ever notice that she is trapped. They’ll bury her, and her soul will be stuck forever in the earth, anchored eternally to her rotting corpse.
As much as she wants to see Teddy again, she would far rather die than face that fate.
Will I ever die? Will I ever be with Remus again?
******
She lies in the tight confines of her coffin.
Every time the lid closes, she is terrified that it will be the last.
They keep moving her from place to place.
Finally, the darkness lifts as her coffin is opened again. They begin to fuss over her hands and hair again. They stuff some flowers in her hands, and one of them mutters that they’ve put her wand in the wrong place. He moves it to a new location inside her coffin.
This must be it.
The funeral.
If no one notices her condition here, it will all be over.
Gradually, the soft murmur of voices fills the room.
“She looks so peaceful…so lifelike. It’s almost like she’s sleeping,” says Ginny. “Fred looked horrid-like some awful doll that had been made to look human. But Tonks looks almost normal.”
I am normal, Ginny. Please-tell someone I’m normal. I’m still here. Oh, God, please! Tell someone I’m still awake!
“It really is a noticeable difference,” says Hermione. “I’ll have to read up on magical preservation techniques sometime.”
“Don’t be so morbid.”
“I’m not being morbid! I just…I’ve never been around people who’ve died before this week. And now I’ve been around so many. I’m still never sure what to say.”
Ginny sighs. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
They are silent for a moment. Hermione speaks again. “Something else that confuses me-Neville told me that an Acromantula was trying to eat her. But she didn’t die of the Acromantula bite. She must have already been dead. But Acromantula’s don’t eat dead animals-only living prey. So why was it after her?”
Thank God for Hermione. She sees-she’ll know. I’m still awake, and she’ll figure it out. She’ll save me. Please, Hermione. Just think it through. You’ll see…please…
“I can’t have this conversation right now, Hermione. Next time you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything at all.”
“I’m sorry…!”
She hears both of the girls walking away.
No! NO! Hermione was supposed to save me. She was supposed to know!
Other voices filter past her.
Some stop to bid her a personal goodbye.
Some even lightly pat her hand or her cheeks.
All the while she screams for them to notice. She weeps, and hollers, and shouts. But she is the only one who hears.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you and Remus,” says Harry softly. “I never wanted this to happen. I’m so, so sorry.”
Don’t be sorry, damn you! Help me! Help me! Don’t let them bury me like this!
“I promise I’ll take good care of Teddy for you. I’ll help your mum as much as I can. I promise.”
She feels him patting her hand, and there is a rustling in the coffin beside her. Did he put in some sort of memento?
The murmurs in the room are dying down. Everyone is leaving.
More footfalls approach. “Let’s say goodbye to your mum, Teddy,” says her mother.
She hears Teddy’s small gurgles and coos. After a moment, he starts to cry.
She feels like her heart will burst.
Her baby is right there, and she’ll never see him again!
She feels a strange tingling in her breasts. It’s almost like…her milk is letting down.
It’s wearing off. The curse-it’s wearing off! There’s still time. I can still get out.
She feels a warm wetness spreading on her chest.
Please let it show. Please let the milk soak through. Let someone notice!
She struggles to move her fingers and toes, to blink her eyelids, to purse her lips.
Nothing.
Not yet.
Right now, the milk is her only hope.
“Goodbye, Nymphadora,” says her mother, and walks away.
NO! Can’t you see the milk? Can’t you see that I haven’t left you?
More footsteps approach, and she hears two men, talking in low voices. It is the morticians.
They close the coffin.
If she could’ve screamed, it would have been loud enough to break glass.
She is moved again, and for a time she can hear the muffled sound of her own funeral carrying on around her.
But she doesn’t care.
She focuses on her hands, struggling intensely to move her fingers.
She feels the coffin moving again.
They must be taking her to the cemetery.
Not yet! Not yet! I almost have it! Please-not yet!
Her fingers are starting to tingle from the exertion. She can feel the slight expansion of her chest as she begins to breath again.
Then, it happens.
Her finger twitches.
I can do it! It’s not too late!
All her fingers begin to feel looser as her false death slowly releases her. Her lungs fill with air, and her eyelids begin to flutter.
Then, with a sudden jarring motion she feels her coffin descending.
They are lowering her into her grave.
No! Not yet!
Her fingers twitch and jerk stiffly, but she still lacks the strength or coordination to shout or pound against her coffin lid.
The coffin ends its descent, and comes to rest softly on the floor of her grave.
She fights to move her limbs, but they remain stiff and rigid. She fights with all her might against the atrophy in her muscles. She has to win this. Her baby is waiting for her to come home.
A cold chill of terror seeps through her as a new sound assails her ears: the pounding of earth landing on top of her coffin.
A shrill scream forces its way out of her lungs, ripping at her throat and ringing in her ears.
It can’t end like this. It can’t!
Her limbs jerk back to life as she wills herself to fight.
She can hear scoop after scoop of earth pounding against the lid of her coffin.
She screams again, and kicks and pounds.
There is already too much earth atop her for anyone to hear.
My wand! I remember hearing one of the morticians saying something about putting in my wand! All I have to do is find it! I’m not finished yet!
Her stiff hands scramble desperately over the silky lining of the coffin. She has to find the wand. It has to be here…
******
Andromeda’s lips are tight, her eyes cold.
Harry is still a little afraid of her, and he’s sure that he’s done the wrong thing.
“I’m…I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have done it. I just…I remembered how I felt when I finally got a cloak that had belonged to my father. It was like a part of him was still with me. And I wanted that for Teddy, too. But I had no right. I’m sorry.”
Andromeda stares down at the object in Harry’s outstretched hands. A single tear winds its way down her cheek.
“No. You did the right thing, Harry,” she says softly. “You’re right. Teddy really should have his mother’s wand.”
The End