Lesser Evils

Lesser Evils

Everything was cold - including the breath that pierced her lungs when she'd gasped, startled as though waking from the climax of a terrible nightmare. It always took a few seconds for Tonks to gain her bearing after the transformation back to human, which was not the comforting sensation she'd been hoping for. Woods, and a hillside. Outside...yes. The sun will rise soon...got it.

Tonks stared wide-eyed at her surroundings, which were drenched in the muted blue tones of the minutes before sunrise but just after moonset. She was standing, though barely aware of her legs, at a clearing on the edge of woods. Her naked body trembled violently in the crisp air that had frozen the dew upon the grass.

The next realization was that her hands were not freezing like the rest of her skin.

Tonks glanced down at her hands. They were bright red even in the cerulean dawn, steaming softly from the warm blood that coated them fingertip to elbow. Patches of damp darkness lay across her arms, streaked across her abdomen. Tonks let out a whimper when she fought the urge to wipe the same metallic blood off her face and from the corners of her lips.

Indigo skies were beginning to fade to that colorless yellow Tonks had always hated. Spinning around frantically, she fought through tears to ascertain where all the blood had come from - she felt weak and numb, but not in any agonizing pain. Delicate ice crunched underfoot as she ran, awkward in her recently-transformed flesh, following a trail of dark droplets that had led to her. There was something bare and crumpled ahead, and it became clearer as she ran toward it. Shuddering, though not from the unrepentant cold on her hairless skin, Tonks crouched over the body. It was mangled into formlessness - barely resembling the werewolf it once was. She had done this.

The eyes of Fenrir Greyback protruded in frozen shock, staring away from Tonks and unfocussed on something far away. Possibly the rest of him, Tonks thought, comforting herself with light humor that came automatically. Like the naming of a corpse once it no longer deserved she or he.

She'd won this time. Tonks knew it would sink in later, when the memory of this horrific sight would penetrate her defenses. She would feel vindicateed at last. Not now...Tonks thought. Do not feel remorse even if he is to be pitied, lying there hollowed out and lifeless. She had defeated Greyback, driven by vengeance rather than something admirable like justice - bravery only in the form of a potion that Severus Snape had brewed especially for this purpose.

They'd told her not to take it, those who still did not and would never trust Severus. She had counted herself among the skeptics, but it had worked as he promised. "You'll heal instantly, no matter how he wounds you," Severus had told her. "I suggest you use it to your advantage or you'll end up like the others." In his double-edged words Tonks was reminded that he was still cold-hearted enough to imply Remus had been weak to die so soon into the war. Unremarkable. Severus was wrong, but he had helped her.

An awareness of the wintry air subsided into numbness. There was no memory of her role in this carnage - as though it were a terrible dream - except a nameless satisfaction in knowing it had felt good to shred him, the beast who had bitten her and changed her life. It had broken Remus's heart when Tonks had to start taking Wolfsbane potion, locking herself away too. His worse fear was this failure to protect her, though she'd reassured him of her love. She'd never understood the way Remus lived carefully, soberly, until she had also been the wolf. The darkness under her nails told its tale.

Tonks would spend the rest of her life a shapeshifter, never settled in this body she controlled at times, but lost all control of at others. She would be obsessed with keeping her nails clean, especially after the full moon.

"Tonks."

"Tonks..."

"Nymphadora!" It took several shouts from a quickly approaching voice to wake her from her nightmarish reverie. An arm was being draped gently over her back and someone else was breathing beside her. Tonks let her body be lifted to stand, pulled away from the corpse that the fates had traded for lesser evils.

Ginny shuddered, muttering "Oh Merlin," under her breath when she glimpsed what was left of Greyback. She led Tonks away from it, wiping the grey-changed hair from her face that gathered in sticky tendrils from blood. Later Tonks would remember that Ginny showed true bravery then, not afraid to taint herself, to hold a murderer in her arms like an injured bird.

They'd walked halfway back up the hillside when Tonks stopped and turned to her guide, suddenly realizing it was Ginny standing beside her. This is her, the one I trust.

"Ginny," said Tonks in a raspy voice. "You found me." She met the clear, blue eyes of the ginger-haired woman who had been a girl only a season ago. Before they'd grown close. Before all this. She was lovelier still.

Dazzling and painful to Tonks's still-sensitive eyes, the edge of the sun crested behind Ginny. Her ginger hair lit up, seemingly aflame and crowning her in a warm glow even as her ragged breath rose misty into the cold air. Instantly, Tonks was melting. The numbness would subside, beginning in that moment. It would be such a bittersweet burden at times, being able to feel so deeply, but she would credit the warmth of the sun to Ginny from that moment on. In her eyes, Tonks was returned to the present. Ginny smiled at her, tears shining upon her lips.

"It's over," Ginny said, holding Tonks's cheek to steady her gaze. "Come on. Dad and the others will be here shortly."

Arthur and Kingsley ran to meet them, Ron and Hermione close behind. She heard Hermione shout, "Tonks! Thank goodness." Nodding that Tonks was all right, Kingsley and Arthur left to confirm the status of Fenrir Greyback. She was thankful that they hadn't asked her to elaborate.

Breathless in her rush to arrive, Hermione held out a phial to Ginny. "She should take this as soon as possible, Snape said." The potion inside was even bitterer than the coppery taste in her mouth, but she felt it work instantly. She hadn't realized her nerves were so on edge.

Tonks was too exhausted to care that Hermione had spoken as if she was too incoherent to administer herself, and that Ron had kept his distance - wand at the ready. She didn't blame him - she had to be quite a sight standing there, naked but for blood like war paint.

"Let's get you back and cleaned up before Ron gets excited," Ginny joked at her brother's expense. Tonks grinned, loving Ginny immensely in that moment. Hermione threw a cloak over her shoulders and helped Tonks wrap it around her shivering body while Ron grabbed her other arm to steady her step.

By the following full moon her silver hair would fade into a few streaks at her temple that she'd never be able to morph away. They would achingly remind her of Remus, though Ginny would call her "stately" and tease her about looking like Professor, no - Headmistress McGonagall. She would let Ginny bathe her after a night spent alone and confined despite the potent Wolfsbane potion Severus was agreeing to supply her. Tonks would lie next to Ginny, nude and clean in the morning light. She would let the sun warm away the moonlight, let Ginny make love to her gently like a sunrise.