A Fading Bubblegum Pink

Right or wrong,
Can't hold onto the fear that I'm lost without you.
If I can't feel,
I'm not mine,
I'm not real.

Lyrics by Evanescence from ‘The Only One’

I awake from my trance once again. I find myself looking at my dishevelled reflection, this time distorted by a trickle of a gloopy crimson liquid I identify as my blood. I didn’t go through with it - I’m such a God damned wimp. Figures. The reality of what I was about to do hits me and I drop the shard of glass as though it scolds me. She definitely wouldn’t want this.

Still, nobody knows to what extent mine and Hermione’s relationship went. Everyone just saw us as best friends. Admittedly, it began where I felt an over-protective big sister type of love. In time, in began to run a bit deeper and slightly more complicated than that. When I say nobody knows – nobody knows as in I haven’t confirmed the rumours. The wizarding world is big but everybody seems to know what’s going on in everyone else’s lives.

If only I could find a way to be with her again. I don’t want to resort to carrying out my original plan, what in the HELL was I thinking.


“Tonks? Tonks, I know you’re there, please love…come and talk.” I can hear Molly’s voice coming from the lounge. She must have flooed in. I hear footsteps outside my bedroom and a creaking can be heard as she inches the door open slowly.

“How dare you, get out!” I pull the quilts up to just under my chin as though they’ll shield me from the outside world and the nasty things that go along with it.

She looks horrified by my outburst and it looks as though her instincts tell her to run. The initial shock over with she visibly pulls herself together and approaches my bed slowly.

“You’ve been holed up in here for months, it’s not healthy…everyone in the Order have been asking after you. Wondering when you’ll be coming back to work.” She goes to sit in the armchair next to my bed before realizing it’s filled with crap like dirty underwear and pill bottles. She precariously puts them on the floor and sits on the edge of the seat.

We are in silence for a minute or so before either of us speak. I always did look at Molly as a Mother figure – I never really see my own parents, they travel a lot. I’ve missed Molly’s round smiley face and comforting talks.

I am the first to break the silence “So…what's up Moll?”

“We’re worried about you Tonks. Nobody’s seen you leave the house since…since…” She begins but drifts off. Reaching forward, she softly pulls the blanket down so she can see my face.

“That’s better.” She caresses my cheek and I close my eyes reminded very much of someone else doing that to me. I shiver slightly.

“You miss Hermione don’t you?” My eyes snap open at the mention of…of…”It’s ok nobody else knows.”

I try to look surprised “Knows? Knows what Moll?”

“About you and her.” I can’t even try to conceal the shock I’m feeling now. I suddenly can’t look her in the eye anymore and avert my gaze downwards, starting to trace the pattern of the quilt cover with my finger. Anything to avoid her stare.

“Why didn’t you just tell me Tonks?

My mouth hangs open, “TELL you?! I thought you’d think I was some sick pervert. You…I always got the impression you don’t like gay people.”

Molly shakes her head “No, no…that’s Arthur that. Fancy, he can’t get enough of Muggles but any mention of a gay person and he flips.”

I chuckle at this, “Arthur and his Muggles, eh? Him and my Dad would get along great, him being Muggle born that is. If he was around long enough…”

Molly pats my hand and I wince slightly. She registers my wince and looks at me questioningly and instinctively turns my arm over.

“Oh, Tonks! What in the name of Merlin have you done?” I see tears start to well in the corners of her eyes. She delicately brushes her fingertip over the area I had cut myself the night before and the tears are now streaming down her plump cheeks. The simplicity of her touch and the statement she has made brings it all home to me. I feel as though I have somehow let her down…let myself down.

“Moll!” I practically drag her off the chair and cling onto her as if for dear life. My whole body begins to shake as I sob into her hair, wailing as I never have before.

“There, there…” she says soothingly into my ear. She eases me back down to sit on the bed and I come to rest my head on her bosom. It feels nice, calming – not in a sexual way but in a ‘someone cares for me’ kind of way.

“If only I could see her again, if only for a few minutes.” I state deep and throatily.

It seems Molly doesn’t hear me or can’t muster a response, as she rhythmically rocks me back and forth. That is, until she abruptly stops. “There is one way you could see her…”

I sit back and look at Molly like she just grew another head. “What did you say?”

“I said – you could see her again.” She furrows her brow, contemplating what to say next. “It seems you have forgotten about a certain instrument cherished by the House of Black.”

I look confused “Grimmauld Place?” She merely nods and looks at me like a teacher prying a very difficult answer out of a slow student.

With my eyes now closed I begin to envisage the dank and dark old house. It’s been so long since I’ve been there, not since…not since Sirius well…you know. Nothing springs to mind immediately. I see myself in the entrance tip toeing past the portrait that’s draped behind a curtain. Don’t wanna wake the old witch up. I’m about to turn to go up the stairs when I see the cove-like space underneath. I approach it and squint in the darkness to look at the object. I see the black colored stone basin stood proudly, covered in its many mystic runes. One of the carvings include the Black coat of arms.

“Of course! Why the hell didn’t I think of it before?” I yell jubilantly, hugging the life out of poor Molly, tears now streaming. The old Black Pensieve. I could extract the memories I have of Hermione and relive them! In a manner of speaking anyway – I would be watching myself with her. I don’t care though I will be near her, smelling her. If only I could touch her…