Edge Of Gravity

The grim of the air fill his lungs making his stomach twitch with a unsettled nausea while he stared down at the Witch on the ground below. Her hair deepening to the sky’s blue while she dusted the grim of the ground from her robes. He blew out a thankful breath realizing she wasn’t going to attempt to spell her robes clean. The thought of spelling her robe lifeless again was beyond his strength at the moment, all he could dream about was curling him on his bunk.

“Tonks hurry!”

The young woman’s didn’t turn to him; her eyes flicking over the ground before kneeling to run her fingers over the ground. “I lost my wand,” she hissed more to herself then the hovering wizard, his annoyance showing on his expressive face. “Wood, go ahead.”

Oliver lowered himself to the ground, the grace of a Quidditch player showing in his movements, before hopping off beside the old Witch. The moonlight weighed heavy on him as he stood on solid ground, making his fatigue of his muscles tingle. “Lumos,” he whispered, his voice barely able to rise above a croak. The small light burned his eyes for several long seconds before he averted his attention to the ground.

Tonks frown deepened, not seeing her wand on the ground and wondering if she had lost it in the tree she had hit. She squinted up at the suspiciously motionless tree; her focus catching the small scrap of her robe blowing softly in the wind. Her arm still ached from the impact moments ago, but her mind too exhausted to care any further.

Wood followed the Witch’s stare frowning up to see the tree she had crashed into, its limbs still for the moment. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, before letting his head drop back down to stare at the ground.

“I’ll get it,” she whispered, pushing herself up to wobble on her feet for several seconds. The movement made her head spin for a moment before she recaptured her balance. Tonks took a deep breath in, trying to ignore the way her lungs wanted to choke in the thickened air, before taking a step forward.

Oliver reached his hand out, wincing at the way his shoulder burned from the deep magical welt on his arm, to grab Tonks robes. “I’ll fly up and get it.” The thought of her trying to retrieve the wand from its branches made his head ache, especially with the way her body nearly toppled over seconds ago. The pain of the battle had set in nearly a hour ago draining them both of all their reserves.

Tonks disguise had worked, but his cloak had not hidden their appearance for long, nearly leaving him dead from the five Death Eaters. Her wand had made the difference freezing two of them before they had time to react, but the other three had turned on them both, screaming hexes before they had finally petrified one and killed the other two. It had been all for not though, not finding any of the missing Evans in their company.

They both feared the worst for Dean Thomas, knowing his fate would be grim at the Death Eater hands; the raid he had lead nearly a month ago had probably sealed his fate. He had killed three high ranked ‘monsters’ of Voldemort, rescuing the living Evans’ from further tortures. It had been a victory that had probably left the Dean dead.

Wood clutched the handle of his broom, his eyes watering from the prolonged exposure to the bright light. He quickly snuffed the light glowing from the end of his wand to climb aboard his broom. His grace, slightly jerky for take-off, left him to steady himself in the air before he cautiously flew towards the tree.

Its branches swayed slightly, but not enough to cause Wood alarm; his body loosening at being up on his broom. He glanced at the witch, her shoulder slouched, still staring at the tree with a frown.

“I’ll get it,” he whispered down to her, trying to ignore the way the tree swayed more freely.

Tonks turned her attention up to Oliver, allowing a small smile to seep through her exhaustion. Her body shivered from the chill the air held on the ground. It made the burning throbbing of her legs cool enough to numb them, leaving her them jelly-like beneath her.

Wood forced his Quidditch instincts on, his time with the professional team falling back into place like a second skin. He remembered the pain he had felt during the games, the spasms he had pushed through, the hours he had spent in the infirmary. But this pain was different than before. It felt more real; his mind wasn’t focused on keeping the Quaffle away from the goal. Instead, all he could think about was he had lived through the battle. That his wand was weighed down with another soul of a familiar face, a face he had faced on the field and had blocked more then a dozen times. It seemed strange that he couldn’t even think of his name, or perhaps he just didn’t want to.

His broom obeyed him, floating him forward until the tree branches creaked with movement. Its bark flaking off like dead skin as it took a quick swipe at Wood’s head. He dodged it easily, breathing in a deep scent of rushing air; it brought back the memories. Another swipe.

Tonks stared at Oliver her eyes barely blinking to make sure he wasn’t tossed from his broom. Her fingers tightened into a fist, even though the imprint of her wand still ached from her clutching it in her hand. Another limb moved drunkenly about Wood’s head, but left him slightly tousled the slap of the leaves. She pushed back her words of worry, knowing it might break the younger wizard’s concentration.

Wood smirked to himself; the pain of the battle seeming to leak from his mind with every dodge. The excitement of beating the tree brought on a second wind, making his broomstick moves more showy then necessary. Weaving through open spots to push closer to the base, his eyes focusing to look for Tonks wand.

Tonks sucked in a breath, seeing Oliver’s twirl through the air like he used to, so many years ago. A soft chuckle in the wind as he dodged each branch with skilled precision. She had not heard the young man chuckle for ages; he was either too weak from battle or concentrating on plans. His mind too caught up in keeping everyone alive. Losses were unacceptable, even though he had drained himself into exhaustion.

“Almost there.” Oliver smirked, seeing a far too ornate branch to be part of the tree, laying in a crevice. He reached out his arm, nearly catching the tip, his mind to focused on claiming his prize to notice the new presence in the field. It stood looming, the wind blowing the dark robes about as it raised his wand towards him.

“Everta Statum!”

Tonks breath caught in her throat as the spell threw Wood into a tree branch, before it threw his limp body on the other side of the tree. “OLIVER!” she screamed starting to run toward him.

“Lumos Solem!”

Tonks squeezed her eyes shut as the field seemed to be set ablaze with light, it made a needle of pain shot through her skull. She took several steps backward trying to force away the sting, before she toppled backward onto her back. “Oliver!” she called out, trying to force herself up but her arms and legs kept giving out from under her.

“He can’t hear you.”

Tonks blinked through the light, trying to focus her sight. Everything blurred for several seconds before the watering stopped and she was able to see the man standing over her. A expressionless face, seeming odd with the bright red mane atop his head. “Ron,” she whispered, blinking up to make sure she wasn’t imagining him.

“Not anymore.” He voice was monotone, as he stared at her like she was a complete stranger. His eyes were dull even in the bright light, his face holding a long fresh looking scar along his cheek.

“Ron…Oliver…” She felt her lungs burn with the chilly air, staring up at Ron’s raised wand. It remained motionless for several seconds before jerking towards her.

Ron‘s voice was soft and dull. “Petrificus Totalus.”

Tonks body locked up, making everything haze into a dreamy blur. Her last sight was Ron turning his wand in the direction of Wood, his expression only slightly surprised. Ron. she thoughts for a moment before her mind slipped into exhaustion.

Many thanks to Larilee!!!