Nymphadora Tonks (bd_tonks) wrote in beyond_dark, @ 2008-04-23 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | * april 2006, - complete, andromeda tonks (deceased), nymphadora lupin (tonks) |
RP: The Unexpected
Date: April 23, 2006 (5pm until around 7:30pm)
Characters: Nymphadora Lupin, mentions of Remus Lupin and Andromeda Tonks
Location: 15 Margin Alley
Private/Public: Private (Open to Aurors and Remus after seeing HERE!
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: This is the last thing Dora was expecting.
She could barely move her arms above her head. Unlike Antonin, Natasha did not believe in healing one's sparring partners after using unforgiveables, or offering a salve to heal the cuts she'd drawn into the soft skin of her chest. No, instead the entire battle at Upper Slighter had left her stiff and sore. It hurt to move, even four days later. Dora had spent a good deal of the time curled up in bed, and even though she was hurt and sore, she felt horribly guilt about it. As usual, the full moon was at a completely inconvenient time and she'd felt bad, not being up to full strength to take care of Remus. She'd been of little help, laying in bed and trying to remember her mum's favorite soothing spells to cast over herself.
Dora hadn't owled her mum after the battle, if only out of sheer stubbornness. She was married now, a big girl with a husband and she couldn't go running to her mummy every time she went and scraped her knee. Or, got stabbed by the ex of one's husband, as it were. Besides, she'd been the one lecturing her mum on getting hurt, and here she was, laid up in bed.
But stubbornness wore down after a while, once she realized that she honestly couldn't remember all of the spells her mum used to use and simply felt like a bad wife as leaving Remus to do things around the house and care for her. Dora knew that staying in bed was likely the best idea, but on Wednesday evening she dragged herself out of bed and slipped out of the house. It seemed rather quiet all around and she decided not to seek Remus out, letting him rest wherever he was. He deserved it.
"Should have grabbed a robe…" Dora wrapped her arms around herself, as much as she could as she hurried down the streets towards her mum's apartment. She wouldn't stay for long, she thought, perhaps just long enough for a chat and to grab something warm to bring back for Remus and her to eat for dinner. She couldn't cook well under the best of circumstances and she, again, felt a bit of guilt not having anything around the kitchen. As adult as she attempted to be, Dora still knew she was lucky, having her mum so close by.
The state of her body forced her to walk slowly. Her slower gait made for less tripping and stumbling along the way, but it slowed her process. It took her fifteen minutes to make her way to the apartment and even when she finally arrived, making her away up the back steps was murder on her knees.
"Don't worry, Mum, it's Dora," she half called out, half simply said. Dora stepped through the back door and closed it behind her.
The smell hit her first.
Sometimes it seemed as if she'd been an Auror longer than she hadn't, even thought that wasn't the truth. Even when teaching, she'd still been an Auror. Her body might not have been used to the rigors of the job anymore, but her mind was sharp and she was quite well versed in certain signs. The smell was distinctive: Putrefaction. She'd learned about it during her Auror training and she'd smelled it more times than she'd ever hoped to.
Dora opened her mouth to call out again, but decided against it. Instead, her hand went towards her wand, tucked securely in her pocket. She pulled it out before walking through the small kitchen and pushing open the door that led to the front hall.
Perhaps later when she thought back upon this moment, she would realize that it had been foolish to not expect the scene she ended up across. It was, after all, her mum's house, and her mum was hardly the sort to commit murder and attempt to hide the body in her own house. Though, Dora might have preferred that to the alternative.
"Mum? Mum…"
Pain rushed through her knees upon impact as she fell down to the ground. She dropped her wand and it rolled to the side, stopping only when it knocked up against the wall. None of this mattered, though, as Dora reached out to grasp her mother's lifeless body. She'd just been laying there, a crumpled heap on the ground with her eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"Mum… mum? Mum? Mum!" Hands pawed across the body she'd pulled into her lap, desperately searching for a sign of life. She was demolishing the crime scene, but she'd not yet come to think of it as a crime scene.
It was her mum.
Dora grabbed Andromeda's body, pulling her close and looking into her dead eyes as she frantically raked her fingers through her hair. She recognized this. The signs of the Killing Curse were rather obvious. The slack, yet horrified face, scared eyes… the signs that things were unfinished around the house. As if she'd simply fallen down dead while cooking dinner.
She shook her head as she looked down, not at all wanting to believe what she was seeing, but knowing that she couldn't actually change it.
She was a trained Auror. She dealt with this sort of thing all of the time, but… she had no idea what to do. None at all. Grief blinded her judgment, as did a slow brewing anger as she began to truly sob while she held her mum in her arms. She bent over the body, letting her own dark hair mingle with her mum's. She squeezed her arms around her, and pressed her lips to Andromeda's cold forehead. The smell was still permeating the air, more and more apparent as she kept her head ducked and close.
She knelt on the floor for some amount of time; she honestly didn't know how long. Her knees scorched with pain when she finally did stand up and her eyes were bright red from tears. She left her mum laying on the floor, just because she couldn't think. She had no idea what she was meant to do, not with any of this.
Hair fell back in face as she stared down at Andromeda. She couldn't see and so she shortened it, or tried to. There was very little surprise when her abilities simply wouldn't cooperate, and instead of shortening her hair simply grew longer, darker, and curlier. It was perhaps the least important thing in the world at the moment and so she ignored it, instead reaching down with shaking hands to pick her wand up from the ground. Something had to be done… Remus, Aurors, the Order… someone had to come.
"Ex-expecto patron-num." Right, that wasn't going to accomplish a thing, she knew it even before the pathetic silvery whisps emitted from her wand. The spell only worked well when one could think of something happy, and she had no chance of doing that now.
She leaned against the hallway wall, still staring down at her mum and struggling to swallow past the lump in her throat. She had to, to be able to speak.
"Expecto Patronum." Still nothing, and Dora forced herself to take a deep breath. She wouldn't be able to calm herself completely, but she needed to try. Dora raised her wand to try again. She couldn't leave the house, but someone needed to come.
Her wand shook visibly, as did her entire arm. She moved, bracing herself against the wall as she tried to steady herself and cast the spell, but something else caught her eye. A disturbing reflection in the hall mirror, which she knew could only be herself, but even with that knowledge she couldn't help but turn to see if there was anyone behind her. There wasn't. The reflection was her own, which only made it that much more disturbing. The black, curly hair framed a familiar face which only looked soft because it was sitting on her and not her Aunt Bella
"Shit!" Dora pushed away from the wall, stumbling over her legs and feet and falling to the ground. She landed next to her mother's body and immediately backed away, slamming her spine against the wall. Her breathing quickened and she could feel her features shifting quickly, as if they knew simply by themselves that she had not liked what she'd seen. Soon it was dirty blonde strands falling into her eyes, damply matting onto her cheeks with tears. What she looked like was the last thing that mattered.
Her mother was dead.