Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. The title is from the poem 'Annabel Lee' by Edgar Allan Poe.
This is my first try writing this character and this pairing. Hope you like it.
I and My Annabel Lee.
I used to watch them from across the room. A twisted form of self torture, reminding myself of that which I could not have. When the room was crowded, my family and friends milling around, it was easier to look at them together without being spotted. If one or the other would look over I would simply smile (trying not to make it look too forced) and move my eyes away as if I had happened to be searching for someone else when they had seen me.
Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. It seemed such an unlikely couple. No wonder it never even occurred to me before she confessed her love for him. It just about destroyed me to hear her say the words, the words I had dreamed she'd say to me, to another man.
It's ironic, really, when you think about it. I have spent most of my life being fascinated with magical creatures. I even based my career around them, choosing the path that will lead me closest to them. I grew up with them, I studied them, I've learned their intricacies, the quirks of nature that make them special, the grace of their movements, the beauty of their existence. I loved them all.
I thought Remus Lupin was alright when I first met him. He was... friendly. I liked him. It was amazing how quickly that changed when I realised just how much she liked him too. Almost immediately I despised him. My chest burned with it. My heart hammered at a peel out pace. I was unable to keep them venom out of my voice when I spoke to him.
He must have been confused, anyone would be at such a rapid change in behaviour, but he hid it well. I wasn't surprised that he didn't spend too much time worrying about me though. Once he learned of his hidden affections being returned, he didn't think about the cause of Charlie Weasley's bizarre behaviour.
Not when he had Nymphadora Tonks to occupy his time and attention.
I know that you are supposed to be gracious in these situations, despite having your nightmares played out for you in full technicolour and surround sound. You're supposed to hold yourself together, tell the woman you love that you are happy for her, whoever she chooses to be with and that she deserves to be with whoever she wants.
I guess I wasn't a big enough man for that.
Instead I let it burn in my chest. My love swelled whenever I saw her. My anger grew whenever I saw him. My jealousy spread in front of my eyes, blurring my vision, whenever I saw them together. You'd think I'd had enough to worry about with the war raging all around, unseen by Muggle eyes, but I surprised myself with my new-found ability to multi-task. I worked all hours for the Order and still found time to brood over my love and anger and hurt.
In my head she had been mine. I don't care how possessive that sounds. Even at school, we were in the same year, and I noticed her across classrooms, exchanged smiles with her in the hallways, chatted casually and nurtured an ever-growing affection. I always thought that one day she would confess to feeling the same. My beautiful Tonks. Nymphadora. I clearly read her wrong.
He took her from me.
He took her, he put her in danger, he got her killed. She'd have stayed away from the Final Battle with her son if it weren't for him. Her son might have been my son if it weren't for him.
It was his fault she came back and it resulted in her death.
And even now, he's the one who gets to be with her.