CHAPTER 1

Nymphadora Tonks awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows, spilling across the floor of her room. The night before, she had dreamt of a mysterious stranger gently brushing the hair from her eyes and kissing her forehead. Though she felt an inexplicable trust in this phantom suitor, he vanished after whispering "sweet dreams," leaving Tonks yearning to prolong the fantasy. Despite desperately keeping her eyes shut, she knew the stranger was merely an illusion conjured by her imagination.

Tonks wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day, but her mind raced with doubts. What have I become? Am I truly happy living this way? She shook her head, banishing these thoughts. With a sigh, she stretched languidly, feeling the rumpled sheets against her bare skin.

A few galleons were scattered across the bed. As Tonks rose, some tumbled to the floor. Stifling a yawn, she gathered them up and tossed them haphazardly into her bag. Then she ambled across the room towards the bathroom, leaving the money and her worries behind.

Tonks rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She smirked, silently admiring her disguise as a blonde-haired witch with wide blue eyes and a tan from the summer holiday—she could easily pass for a mature adult even though she was only sixteen.

Being a Metamorphmagus had advantages for her; she could alter her appearance effortlessly. However, she abused this ability after becoming pregnant at thirteen. The pregnancy ended quickly, though, when her mother Andromeda—after learning the truth from her—chose to terminate it.

"Is there a Nymphadora Tonks here?" a Healer called out as she scanned the St. Mungo's waiting room, clipboard in hand.

Andromeda's irritation flashed across her face as she glanced at her daughter. "Yes!" she answered for Tonks, who showed no sign of hearing. Clucking her tongue, Andromeda stood and said firmly, "Come, Nymphadora. It's time."

Tonks didn't budge, nervously wringing her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried hiding her miserable face from the room; guilt and shame gripped her heart.

"What's wrong?" Andromeda asked sharply, frowning.

Tonks hesitated before looking up with a quivering voice. "I—I've changed my m-mind."

Andromeda grabbed Tonks's wrist firmly, frustration and determination flashing in her eyes. "Nymphadora, please," she said loudly, "we've already discussed this."

"I can't go through with it, Mum!" Tonks protested as she desperately tried to pull her wrist from her mother's tight grip. "I'll do whatever it takes to care for my unborn child. I won't let you or the bloody Healers remove—"

"This is what's best for you!" Andromeda interrupted sternly.

"No, it's not!" Tonks cried.

Andromeda screeched, "Just stop it!" Her dismay was evident on her face. "Your so-called boyfriend dumped you the moment he found out you're pregnant! How stupid is that?" She shook with rage and stared at her daughter in disgust.

Tonks argued relentlessly with her mother, who remained unyielding in her decision. After a while, when her mother angrily brandished her wand, Tonks gave up and reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged to the operating room by her impatient mother.

Tonks cursed as the awful memory flashed through her mind. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she morphed back to her natural appearance—mousy brown hair, dark twinkling eyes, and a pale heart-shaped face. Though not unattractive, no one close in the wizarding or Muggle world knew what she truly looked like. Whenever the chance arose, she would disguise herself before seducing men into bed. She knew it was dirty business, but ever since her ex-boyfriend had left her and she'd lost her baby, dark thoughts had taken hold in her mind. Feeling used and violated, instead of moving past these negative emotions, she had started selling her body for intercourse with strangers. Longing for love and attention in the past but only finding rejection, Tonks no longer cared how she was treated. She would take matters into her own hands, and nothing would stop her.

Remus Lupin sat awkwardly on the patio of the upscale restaurant with his friend Lily Potter, feeling out of place in the ritzy shopping district. Though he felt uncomfortable, he had agreed to meet Lily here to confide in her about his struggles, knowing she would offer kind words of comfort rather than grief from his other friends.

The blonde woman in the revealing black dress eyed him curiously from inside the restaurant. He quickly averted his gaze and hung his head. Fidgeting in his chair, he felt her continued stare from the corner of his eye—but his discomfort stemmed from more troubling matters, not her beauty.

For twenty-nine years, he had never feared for his life or felt so nervous. Discovering his lycanthropy was one thing, but learning of his illness doubled his anxiety.

Three years ago, a Healer at St. Mungo's diagnosed him with the condition that now filled him with dread.

The Healer revealed, "Tests show a brain tumor." Remus's eyes went wide with shock, his heart skipping a beat at the devastating news.

"This type of tumor can turn malignant," the Healer continued somberly, "Median survival is about two years. Enlargement leads to paralysis, memory loss, impaired judgement... At any rate, we'll need to operate."

"Can an operation fix it?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the cold dread that had gripped him. His heart pounded as he looked hopefully to the Healer, who gave an immediate sigh of regret.

"Total removal of the tumor is not possible," he said. "Even the best surgery can't prevent a relapse."

After leaving the Healer's office in a daze, Remus slumped into a chair in the waiting room. Taking deep breaths to calm his rattled mind and body, he shook his head at the unfair hand life had dealt him. First cursed with unwillingly becoming a werewolf, he now faced yet another difficult issue to grapple with.

Remus was deep in thought when he overheard a heated argument between a young girl and her mother. Though he tried to ignore their raised voices, the girl's distress caught his attention. She briefly met his gaze with pleading eyes before he looked away. Later, Remus saw the mother forcibly pull the crying girl from the waiting room.

That memory lingered in Remus's mind, serving as a realization that others have their own problems and cope in their own ways. The experience left him curious. When he caught a glimpse of a blonde woman sipping her drink and conversing with an elderly man, something about her eyes seemed familiar. He watched as they rose from the table, the woman linking arms with her companion as they departed. Remus shook his head in disbelief. It couldn't be the same girl, he thought. The child he recalled had brown hairâ€"and there was no way she could have aged so drastically in just three years. He chided himself for the foolish notion.

Remus gazed back at his table where Lily had grabbed the envelope. Though he and Lily already knew its contents—he had filled out the form himself and discussed it with her—his hand still trembled as she opened it before him. When her eyes fell upon the black ink at the top reading "DEATH REGISTRATION: REMUS JOHN LUPIN," he saw a flicker of emotion cross her face.

Remus knew without doubt that Lily was trying to hide her grief. He saw her hands tremble as she held the letter briefly, then slipped it back into its envelope and her bag. She gazed at him, her eyes conveying unspoken empathy and worry, before nodding as if they shared an unspoken understanding. She rose and gently squeezed Remus's arm comfortingly before departing.

To be continued…