Thank you for all who have read/reviewed. Let me know what you think.

-Val

Part II: Earth

Antonin couldn't sleep knowing she was mad at him. He didn't understand. She knew he was a Death Eater, she knew the job description that came along with it. He was going to kill. There was no way to avoid it. He leaned his throbbing head back in the leather chair of his office, his eyes were burning and his mind was begged for sleep, but he had to speak to her. He poured himself another glass of firewhiskey and his chair squeaked and wrinkled as he sank further into his seat. He brought the glass to his lips every so often to take a swig. The sharp liquid numbed his pain with every sip and left a tingle on his palette. His only comfort from the shuddering sound of silence was the crackling sound of the fire and the shuffling of his own feet under the desk.

He had begun to nod off into his chest when he heard the sound of banging downstairs. He forced his eyes open and jumped from his seat, spilling whiskey along the front of his shirt. He placed the glass on the desk and rushed down the marble staircase to the source of the noise. He heard the sharp slap of vibrating along the counter in the rarely travelled room of the kitchen.

"Nora?" he called as he opened the door. Two house elves worked furiously preparing another meal for him and his wife, while she slammed a knife down on the ends of dark crimson roses.

"Nora?" he said again.

"The elves made you some food." She mumbled. Antonin looked at the stainless steel dinner plate cover sitting on a tray adjacent to her. He peaked under the plate and scoffed. They were having salmon again with asparagus and mashed potatoes. He wasn't in the mood to eat, not until he knew she was alright.

"I'm not hungry." He said, placing the dinner cover back over the plate.

"Me neither."

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but hesitated. He slowly pulled his hand away. She couldn't even face him. She wouldn't want him to touch her. She placed the roses in a blue vase and fanned them along the glass edges. When she was satisfied she pushed the vase along the counter and unwrapped another bouquet of flowers, this time white lilies, laid them on the counter and brought the knife down on the ends.

"No." She said, sniffling slightly.

"Nora, can we talk?" Antonin said. He needed to touch her, if she could feel how remorseful he was of her discovering him with blood along his face perhaps she wouldn't be too angry. He walked forward and wrapping his arms around her waist. He could feel her ribs under her floral dress.

"There's nothing to discuss." Nora said, putting the knife on the counter and touching his hand, stroking the top of his hand. She leaned back into his touch, her eyes were watering with tears and she shook in his arms.

"Darling," He said. "I'll tell you everything there is to know, I just don't want-"

"No." Nora said wriggling out of his grip and turning forward. Her coppery hair followed her movements, several strands hung loose in front of her face. Her eyes were red like she had been crying for some time, her cheeks were damp and her skin was a grayish pale. "Please, don't tell me. I'd rather not know."

"But-"

"Antonin," She said another wave of tears falling down her cheeks. She put a hand on each side of his face and ran her fingertips from his eyes to his lips. "I'd rather not know anything about what you do. I'm marrying you because of the sweet, beautiful human being you are, not for the ruthless monster that you portray yourself to be. There's nothing to explain on your part."

A marriage to a Death Eater meant the spouses had two options. The arrangement is simple. One spouse could tell the other everything or they could tell them nothing at all. She had already made her decision of what she preferred.

He nodded in agreement. If she wanted to remain in the dark, he couldn't make her do so otherwise. He kissed her gentle lips and nuzzled close to her. He felt the sleep that he had repressed for so long making him drowsy and weak. She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her face in his chest.

She refused to think badly of anyone she loved. He admired that about her. He only wished he could have the same traits. He spent most of his time dwelling on the bad in the ones he loved, rarely ever the good. He hollowed himself to believe there were no good people in the world. She was a myth that became his phenomenon.

Antonin opened his eyes slowly. His face was still buried in her hair and his hands wrapped around her waist. He smiled and kissed the nape of her neck, grazing past her cold skin. His hands felt the silk of her nightie until smooth skin of her thigh came to his touch. He peeled the silk from her leg and continued to work his way up. He hoped she would wake and satisfy his aching arousal.

She didn't wake. He continued to stroke her inner thigh until his fingers became sticky and wet. He brought his hand up quickly and held it in the glow of the moonlight. The crimson on his fingertips glowed in the night light and became redder and brighter to him.

"Nora!" he said. He jumped from the bed and drew the covers from over her. The white sheets of her side of the bed looked as if it had been painted red. He grabbed his cloak, wand and wrapped her tightly carrying her in his arms.

Apparation could be deadly in her condition, but there was no other way. He apparated to St. Mungo's her skin was a stark gray, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. He could take one look at her and know it was fault, he did this to her. The healers and nurses placed her on a levitating stretcher and he rushed along with them, holding her hand and hoping she would wake up. He wanted to look in her eyes one more time, so he could tell her he was sorry for everything he had done.

His world became like a tunnel. There was no sound, no one else in the room, but the two of them. Tears were burning his eyes and falling down his cheek, making his vision murky. His knees were weak and his head felt too heavy for his own body. He propped his hand against the wall and crumpled to the floor.

"Please don't die." He said in crackly voice. "I'm sorry, my little flower, I'm sorry. Don't die, please."

He rested with Nora on her hospital bed. Her nose touched his and her hand was enclosed tightly into his palms. She was still red in the eyes from crying and her eyes were growing puffy.

"I'm scared." She whispered, another tear rolling down her cheek.

"I am too." He said, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her pale knuckle.

"I don't think I'm going to live for very long." She said, closing her eyes. A salty tear clung to her eyelash and disappeared when he could see her blue eyes again.

"No," Antonin said shaking his head. "Do not talk like that. You're going to be fine, darling."

"What if I'm not?" Nora asked, her hands shaking. "I don't want to die, I'm terrified."

"You're not going to die, my love." Antonin said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He hoped if he kept saying it over and over she wouldn't die. Somehow it would keep her alive. All he had to do was keep saying it for the rest of his life. She would be healthy and live until she was as old and gray as he was. They would achieve every dream they hoped to accomplish. They would have four children, live in a perfect pureblood world, they would have breakfast every morning together and he'd look up from his morning paper and tell her; "You're not going to die." Thus saving her for one more day. He would give anything to have life work that way.

"It appears to be a deadly muggle disease. It affects her blood." The healer said taking the charts of parchment down from his face and keeping it at his side.

Antonin sat in the chair closest to Nora. She stared straight at the healer with a blank look upon her face. He touched her hand and she squeezed his for a moment, before letting go.

"A m-muggle disease?" Antonin said, watching the healer.

"Yes, sir."

"There's not a drop of muggle blood in her body." Antonin snapped. "You must've made a mistake."

"Sir, we tested her several times and every single result points to this. It's a wonder she's still alive today, she's had this for several years."

"How did she get this?"

"It's not contagious. She was more than likely born with this. It can be genetic or a deformity in her bone narrow or blood. It's rare for anyone with magical blood to get this, especially purebloods. We see it more with half-bloods and muggle borns."

Antonin closed his eyes and stroked the stubble upon his cheek. He couldn't lose her to this muggle disease. He couldn't let this happen to precious little flower. He glanced at Nora once again. She stared straight ahead, not making a sound or a move.

"How do we fight this?"

The healer sighed heavily. "Well," he said clearing his throat. "Because of the rarity there is very little we can do except give her the best care and all the treatments we know, blood replenishing potions, joint pain relievers and other such elixirs to keep her alive, but the healing process is very painful. It's hard to tell if she will ever recover with the disease already in its mature stages. However if she does there is a possibility of a relapse within six months to three years."

"But what are the chances of her living? That's all I care about." Antonin held his breath awaiting the healer's response. His heart was pounding in his ear and his stomach felt like it had been ripped open with a knife. He was going to be sick, he was going to vomit, but he couldn't.

"Erm, perhaps we should take a walk-" The healer suggested nodding toward Nora. She shook her head quickly, but didn't look at him. Taking note of her motion, Antonin said; "Tell me, I don't need to be coddled, just tell me."

The healer looked toward the sterile floor and his eyes met Antonin's. "If I could estimate I would say, perhaps a twenty percent chance if luck prevails. That however is being optimistic."

He saw Nora's eyes close for the first time. They remained shut for moments on end before she opened them. She didn't say another word.

"Thank you." Antonin said, flicking his wrist at the healer tensely. If he stayed a moment longer, Antonin would lunge at the man and threaten to curse his family if his wife wasn't healed by the end of the month. However he knew it would be a waste of energy. He focused had to focus on Nora and be strong for her. Her eyes remained blank and straight forward.

"Nora-" he said before he was interrupted.

"I want to go home." She muttered. Antonin felt like the world he had been waiting for was coming apart. He nodded his head and helped her stand on her feet. She changed into the dress he brought her from home, a dark blue low cut velvet dress with matching coat and shoes. Her hair was greasy and hung lankly past her shoulders, but unwashed hair was the least of her concerns. Her face looked heavy, like she would break down at any moment, but she didn't. She took his arm and they disapparated with a pop to the manor. Their massive home was deathly quiet and Nora still hadn't spoken a word.

Antonin paced back and forth along the front of the house. His steps echoed against the marble stone and Nora stood as still as ever. He couldn't think, he couldn't process the words that just been spoken. She was going to die, but he couldn't. He wouldn't let her. She was too important to him just for her to be let go. He couldn't breathe anymore, it was like someone put something heavy upon his chest. He ran his hands through his hair and felt the burns of tears, but he wasn't going to cry, he couldn't cry.

Nora stepped in front of him, putting his pace to a halt. She placed her hands on his cheeks and forced a smile on her face, although her eyes looked weary. "We're going to fight this, Antonin." Nora said with a forced smile on her face. Her eyes began to water with tears. "I'm not giving up, but don't you give up either. He said twenty percent was being optimistic, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, then I guess we'll be optimistic. I might defy the odds." She tried to make him smile, but he couldn't. His stomach lurched and he held back the bile building up in his throat.

He wasn't going to give up, he would never give up. He would give her his blood so she could live if it were possible, but he couldn't swallow the thought that perhaps it would all be in vain. What if she would die tomorrow? He couldn't lose her, not now. She was the love of his life, his reason for living and loving.

"I won't give up, not on you darling." He said kissing her and wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. He burned this moment into his memory. The way she smelled of sterile potions and honey, her soft skin against his cheek and her gentle breaths warming the skin on his neck. She kissed him gently pressing her forehead to his, her fingers tracing the crook his neck slowly.

"I want to go to bed. I need sleep. Are you going to join me?"

Antonin smiled and nodded. "Yes, I will be up shortly." He uttered. He needed to be alone just for a minute. The anger, frustration, sadness and confusion boiled in him and like a volcanic eruption he was on the verge of exploding. With a peck on the cheek she left him in the hallway. The clicking sound of her heels hitting the marble staircase echoed for a few moments until they faded into short whispers in his ear. He held his breath when he heard the door close behind her. He stormed to his office, shoving open the door and slamming it shut behind him. He paced around the room, breathing heavily. He had to think, he had to concentrate, but he couldn't. The walls in his chest were closing. It hurt so badly he thought he would hyperventilate.

A surge of anger coursed through his veins like ice. He clenched his fist and slammed it into the wall several times. Each punch made the dent in the wall deeper. The pain was unimaginable, but he didn't care. Creases of blood from his knuckles were left behind in the Victorian purple wallpaper and dry wall. When there was barely anything left to punch he picked up a lone chair and hit it against the wall several times, turning over any desk, table, and topping over a book shelf. When there was nothing else to punish he dropped to his knees. Blood from his wounded hand fell from the gashes in his knuckles onto the sleeve of his shirt and expensive carpeting.

Why did this have to happen to a good person like her? She was so kind, so perfect, an angel among cruel demons. Why did this have to happen? He could see a punishment such as this on himself or any of his comrades. It should be him that is facing his final moments. She should be in perfect health. There was no real justice in the world as other's had so rightfully told him.

"You'll get yours, sevenfold." A muggle man once said as Antonin let the flash of green light hit his chest.

Perhaps this was his punishment for his wrong doings? That is what the muggle man meant as he died? This was his suffering? If this was his cosmic punishment, why did someone so innocent have to die to make him pay? He fell to the floor, his face pressed into the lush carpet. The adrenaline in his system was replaced with the physical pain of his hand and the aching of his heart.

Nora heard the commotion downstairs in Antonin's office. She was on her knees curled on the floor of the bathroom weeping into her knees. She had tried to remain strong, to believe that it wasn't true. She wasn't going to die She had to live for her soon to be husband. She grabbed onto her hair and pulled as the tears came down her cheeks.

She was going to die. She knew this day would come, but she hoped she would be her nineties or even better when she was a hundred. Why was this happening and now of all times? She didn't want the pain, or the suspense of waiting for it to happen. Nora knew the pain would make her life unbearable, every day would be more torturous than the next, but she was afraid to die. Would there be a heaven or a hell? What if there was nothing at all? Not knowing what lay beyond the grave created more fear than knowing.

When the tears had dried upon her cheeks and Antonin's racket has ceased she stood up on her feet and carefully made her way down the stairs. Her wand was withdrawn and placed at her side in case she got a nasty surprise. She opened the door of the office and saw her fiancé crumpled in a ball with a swollen and bleeding hand and the room in shambles. She flicked her wand and uttered a cleaning spell. The room came back into its proper order.

"Antonin," she said as she leaned besides him. She picked up his hand and tended to his wounds with a flick of her wand the skin came together and the bleeding stopped.

"Episkey." She said and the bones cracked.

"Ow!" Antonin groaned as the bone came together. A small bruise was left behind on his knuckles, but they still ached. His eyes gazed up at her. "Nora." He said, pulling her close. He clung to her, his head in her chest and tears forming in his eyes, but they didn't fall down his cheeks. She had never seen him cry or so much as tear up, but it made her cry even harder. "Please, Nora, tell me this isn't true."

"Whatever happens, my love," She said stroking temple down to his chin, her nails dragging down the five o'clock shadow upon his cheeks and wiping tears from her eyes. "Is meant to happen, but we're never going to give up. We'll fight to the end."

"We will, we will."

As she drank the potions and elixirs she was prescribed by the healers, the pain became unmentionable. As she suffered, he suffered as well. His was a fierce anger that boiled inside of every nerve in his body. Fucking muggles, were the cause of all this, all his pain, Nora's pain. Their diseases and their filth were killing her, despite how she treated them. He could've killed each and every single one of them if he could until the day came where he could punish them for what they've done, the woman whose throat he was crushing in his hands would do for the time being.

He didn't know her name, nor did he care, but he was stripping the life from her. He had to get rid of this anger, but the harder he squeezed her throat the angrier he became. She had been walking home alone in the dark he imagined, he stunned the bitch, straddled her down and was in the process of the last step. He squeezed her throat so hard it hurt him. Her face was turning purple and the veins in her forehead bulged. Her eyes widened in fear and panic and her mouth uttered silent pleas.

She tried to move her arms, but the more she struggled the less she could breathe. He could feel her pulse beating slower and slower. In the dark slimy alleyway he couldn't see the light leaving her eyes except from the small glimmer from the stars provided him enough light to see one eye, dilate and eventually succumb to her fate. Her body grew limp and her pulse stopped.

He stood above her and spat on her dead body. "Filthy muggle bitch." He said before disapparating.

He brought the whiskey bottle to his lips and sunk further into the bathtub, the water sloshing with his movements and pruned his skin. He stared at his hands, one held a cigarette and the other wrapped around the bottle of firewhiskey. How quickly they took life away with no remorse. He didn't feel pity just as this disease felt no pity for his beloved Nora. He heard a knock on the door, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. She opened the door anyway.

"Anty," she said. She only called him that on two occasions, when they were making love or when she was especially worried. She walked closer to him, kneeling on the tub and bringing her head to his hand.

"What are you doing?" He took another swig of whiskey. She knew what he'd done.

She lifted his chin up to look at her. Her eyes were twinkling.

"I don't know."

"Do not blame them, for my condition. It's no one's fault."

Everything was crumbling and it was their fault. If they didn't exist, maybe she would live.

He had to get married quickly. He woke up one morning, gave Nora her potion and decided to marry her. He picked his best dress robes and took her wedding dress from the back of her closet. It didn't take much to coax her to fix her hair and put some make up on. Nora missed getting dressed up and leaving the confines of their bedroom. They decided upon a small church on the outskirts of London to elope. He didn't want anything large as they had planned, it would take too long. Nora was content with a small wedding with very few people. He invited only his best friend Lucius, her godmother and godfather to be their witnesses.

He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out the small piece of parchment. He had written it weeks ago, but the cursive lettering had a new meaning.

"Nora," he read, his voice cracking on the words as he pushed back emotions. "Words cannot describe how I feel about you. You've made me believe that being in love is not a negative in fact it has its many rewards. You are beautiful, kind, wonderful in every way and most importantly I love you. Whatever happens, I love you and I want to be with you forever."

Nora blinked away tears as he took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. She didn't have a piece of parchment in her hands. She took a step closer to him and smiled.

"I love you, Antonin. I don't care what anyone says, you're a beautiful human being and a wonderful man. You're caring, handsome, my best if not only true friend. You have treated me like a princess or better. I am incredibly lucky to be your wife. I love you."

She slid the ring on his finger and with a kiss their marriage bond was sealed.

"You only have one more." Antonin said bringing the goblet of foul smelling vitamix potion to her lips. Nora scrunched her face and turned her head away.

"Please, Nora. It's only one more, I promise. The strengthening solution is the worse out of all of them."

"But the Vitamix makes me vomit."

Antonin sighed and rubbed his temple. "I know, baby." He said. "But you've got to take it four times a day."

"I want my draught of peace first." Nora frowned and crossing her arms over her chest. "Then I'll take that horrible shit you call a potion."

This wasn't his Nora. It was the pain from her aching body and migraines talking. If he wanted to get her well he had no choice, but to ignore the snide insults and evil eyes.

"It's still brewing, baby." He said, forcing his tone to be gentle. He hired several potions masters to make her draught of peace. Although he received high markings for his potions while in school, he didn't want to risk giving a possibly poisonous draught to his beloved. He pushed the goblet closer to her lips.

"What's taking so long?" she complained, pushing the goblet away with the palm of her hand.

"It has to brew for a certain numbers of hours, Nora."

She shot him a glare with sunken dark rimmed eyes, her bottom lip was tucked in and she exhaled sharply through her nose. Antonin stared down at her, not backing down for one moment.

"Alright, fine." She said snatching the goblet, holding her nose and drinking the foul Vitamix potion down in one gulp. She swallowed and dry heaved for a moment.

"That's my girl." Antonin said giving her a drink of water which she accepted graciously. He stroked her hair and kissed her head.

"Which one is next?" she asked weakly.

"You don't have to take one for another three hours. What do you want to do until then?"

"How about we-" Nora paused for a moment. Her spine curved and her eyes widened. She grabbed her marble basin and vomited. Nora was cursed with a weak stomach. When she took her Vitamix and Strengthening potion together it gave her horrible nausea. He stroked her back and pulled back her hair. The rotten smell of bile still lingered in the air, even after she placed the basin back by her bedside table.

"Do you feel better?" Antonin asked stroking her hair.

"Yes," she nodded. She wiped her mouth with her handkerchief and folded it neatly on her lap. "Can you read to me please?" she asked.

"What book, love?" he said looking at the stack that had begun to pile up around their bed.

"I don't care, I need a distraction. I can't move without everything hurting." She droned, laying her back against the pillows. He thumbed through the stack of books by her bed and pulled a blue hard covered book.

"Menage a Trois?" he asked, checking the book pages to see if it was written in English.

"It's an erotic novel." She said, sniffling. "Are you sure you want to read that?"

"If it's erotic, I'm interested." Antonin joked sitting on the bed. Whenever her migraines rendered her nearly blind she would place her head in his lap and he would massage her temples and read to her in a soft voice.

"It's always about sex with you, isn't it?" she asked weakly lying on his lap. "I'm ready."

"Alright," he said clearing his throat. "Chapter one, Elaine Dubois," He looked at Nora for a moment. Her eyes were squinted shut and her back curved. It broke his heart to see her in so much agony. "When I was just a young boy I was told by my first love, my mother that one person can only love one other person. The rest is mere lust. I lived by that philosophy my entire life, until I met a witch so beautiful I took her as my other wife. Her name was Elaine Dubois." He looked down at her again and stroked her pink lips.

"Are you listening?" he asked her.

"Yes." Nora said readjusting herself on his lap.

"GO AWAY!" Nora screamed so loud it made Antonin's head hurt. It took all her energy to slam the bathroom door shut. Antonin tried to open the door, but it was locked. He cursed under his breath and pulled out his wand. "Don't come in, please." She said her voice trembling. He could hear her bare feet pacing back and forth across the floor.

Nora's feet felt like she had hot pins were pricking her as she walked. Each step was more painful than the next, but she bared it. She clenched her fist and felt the fire of her own muscles moving, but she had to keep in motion. She had to think of ways to forget this, she couldn't let this happen. It was bad enough she could barely keep any food down or she would bleed rapidly at random moments and she couldn't move without any hint of pain, but her looks were going as well. She was going to lose him.

"Baby," Antonin said softly, pressing his forehead to the door. "Talk to me, what's going on?"

"Go away." Nora said, bursting into tears once again.

"Let me see."

"You'll hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"You'll think I'm ugly."

"I know you're beautiful."

"Liar."

"I always tell the truth, even when I lie." He chuckled and waited for a moment to hear what she would do or say next. He continued. "You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and ever will see."

"I'm disgusting. You'll be repulsed by me."

Antonin sneered. "Nora, in the past several months I have known you, I have mopped up your sweat, helped you use the loo, cleaned up your vomit and have been vomited on-"

"I apologized for that."

"Let me finish." Antonin said, recounting her illness. "I have cleaned up your blood, stayed up nights making your potions for the week ahead, inspected your defecation for blood, bathed you and brought you back and forth to St. Mungos. There is nothing you could show me that would disgust me. I did all of this for you, can you do me this one favor and tell me what's troubling, baby?"

"I-I don't know." Nora hesitated.

"Please?" Antonin said softly. "It doesn't matter what it is, I will love you. Everything I do is because I love you, please open the door." After nearly a minute of waiting her heard the doorknob lock pop open. He quickly grabbed the door knob and slowly turned the handle. Nora's face was in her pale hands and her whole body shook in despair. Antonin's gaze softened and his mouth dropped.

A decent portion of her head was covered in bald patches. Small sprouts of coppers hung loosely from her head and hung on the blades of her shoulders. He wasn't oblivious to her condition. He noticed her hair thinning for a while. She agreed to take an experimental periwinkle potion that was supposed to cure her. However it left her with nasty side effects.

"Nora," He said trying to remove her hands from her face. "Look at me."

"I'm hideous. How could you even look at me?"

Antonin wrapped her fingers around her hand and removed them from her face. She turned her head away from him, tears falling down her cheeks. He tilted her chin to face him and kissed her lips. His hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and pulled her close to him. She tasted metallic and sweet.

"You're beautiful," He said pulling away from her. "Hair or no hair you look radiant. Do you think I fell in love with just your hair only?"

"It was a factor." She said pouting her lips.

"Yes, I love your hair, but that's not the only reason why I love you."

Nora put her head into his chest, rubbing her face on the fabric of his shirt. "I can't leave the house looking like this."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to remedy that."

"Hair growth potions would interfere with the other ones I'm taking."

"I'll think of something until then."

"I don't like surprises." Nora said, covering her eyes with her hands. Antonin smirked at her and ran his fingers down the scarf she had placed on her head. He didn't like the scarf itself on her, but she hated looking at the bald patches upon her head. The pink silky fabric was the one of the few objects in life that kept her momentarily satisfied with her condition. He found her attractive hairless or not, but he couldn't refuse her anything especially happiness.

"You'll love this surprise." He said sitting her at the vanity. He checked in the mirror twice for a blue eye to peak between her fingers. He picked up a light box wrapped in velveteen paper from a nearby chair and placed it in her lap. "Okay, you can look."

Nora dropped her hands to her lap and stared at her present. She frowned and looked at up Antonin with a playfully suspicious look in her eyes. "What is this?" she asked.

"Open it and find out."

She unwrapped the velveteen packaging with a crinkle and a rip and took off the lid. She stared down at a wig made of hair identical to hers. A small smile appeared on her face and she picked it up to examine it.

"Well?" Antonin asked. It took him days to find someone with red hair like hers to make the perfect wig. "Do you like it?"

"Yes." Nora said plainly. Antonin's heart sunk, she was already disappointed. He sighed and stroked the pink scarf. "Would you want to try it on?"

"I suppose so." she said closing her eyes as she brought her hands to her nonexistent hairline and slid the scarf off. She squeezed her eyes tightly and Antonin placed the wig on her head, adjusting the symmetry and finger combed it.

"Well?" he said again. Nora opened her eyes and cocked her head to the side. She had straight line bangs and her hair was almost to her hips. She squinted and blinked.

"I look like—" she paused and shook her head continued. "Hmm, the bangs look… never mind, I love it." It was obvious she was lying.

"Not now you don't. Hold your wand to it and imagine what you want. Any hairstyle of your choosing" Nora frowned, but grabbed her wand anyway next to her music box and placed it to her temple with a little thought she imagined her hair pinned up into a messy bun and the bangs removed. Her eyes widened and she smiled.

"This is wonderful." She said with a chuckle.

Antonin looked at her in the vanity mirror, his cheek pressed up against his and he wrinkled his nose. Her hair was messy up and nearly frizzy. "Now you're midnight pub queen." He said.

Nora shook her head. "No, let's try again." She thought for a moment and her red hair spun up to a bun at the top of her head. It was a thin oval shape and held tight together.

"I am Miss. Beehive now, love." Nora joked with a laugh. Antonin turned his nose up.

"It's uhm-"

Her eyes widened and she tapped his hand repeatedly. "Oh I have another idea!" she exclaimed. He hadn't seen her excited about anything besides her calming draught in months.

"Thank goodness, I thought you were going to keep that horrid hair." Antonin sighed with relief. She put her wand to her head and made her hair long and curly down to her waist. "What about this? Do you like it?" she asked.

Antonin her up and down. It was a sexy way to wear her hair. The curls covered the front of her chest and hung loosely brushing past her curvy waist. He felt his pants grow increasingly tighter. "I do like that." She stood up from her vanity and kissed him. "Thank you." She said, holding him close to her, she placed her head on his chest and dragged her nails from his collarbone to his abdomen.

"I'm glad, I made it myself."

"How?"

He recalled fondly of searching the London streets for a muggle woman to steal her hair from. She had a delightful scream about her, it was a shame she never got to see what her sacrifice did for another needy woman.

"I made it with magic, that's all you need to know." He said.

She kissed him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm not feeling as nauseous tonight. That Vitamix must finally be doing its job." she said. A lewd smirk appeared on her face and she traced her hands farther and farther down until it reached the bulge in his pants. "Fancy a romp?" she asked.

He thought she'd never ask.

He never expected her to be a sexual deviant or have any lust at all. Sometimes she'd be fine and they would share that closeness together. She couldn't go for too long or she'd grow weak and tired. He was happy with what he had. It was practically asexual, instead of a lustful marriage with their personal blessing from every room he had to settle for kisses and hugs. It wasn't her fault and some days he didn't mind, but it wasn't always easy. Her drive was especially low, not for weeks, but for months. As much as he tried to understand, his own selfish needs would tap him on the shoulder.

He had been pretending to sleep for a long time. It gave him an excuse to stare at her. She lay on her arms, her chest rising and falling with her raspy breaths. He reached out to touch her arm, dragging his fingers softly down her skin and kissing her shoulders. He needed her. He was begging to let him feel her. The closeness he craved was met with opposition. She touched his hand and fell back asleep.

He tried again pressing his erect manhood to the back of her hip and kissing her neck and dragging the tip of his tongue to her ear lobe and suckling gently.

"Not tonight." She mumbled.

Antonin still held her in his arms. He didn't need sex. He just wanted to touch her, to memorize every bit of her. He put his head into her back, his arms steady and strong around her waist. Her hand wrapped around his and squeezed tightly. Something burned his eyes, they were tears. The salty liquid tried to make its way from his eyes, but he shoved them back.

He thought this was the end. Nora had begun bleeding again this time in the bathtub and she wouldn't stop. Her skin was sallow and pale, the whites in her eyes had turned a sickly yellow and her mouth was red and stained with dried blood from her gums. He would mop up the blood from the corner of her mouth with his handkerchief. She could barely keep her eyes open and when she spoke, she spoke in whispers. The end was coming for her. He could feel it as much as he tried to fight it.

He kept her looking alive. She wasn't going to die with her appearance ragged and neglected like most patients do. He adjusted her wig, combed it, put on her makeup, cleaned her and would massage her aching bones. The healers thought it was a shallow attempt to keep her looking beautiful so he could gaze upon her without vomiting, but they were wrong. He had to keep a sense of normalcy or he would lose his mind. He had to be prepared for when the end came.

"I'm scared." Nora said in a soft whisper. Her eyes were half open, but her blue pools twinkled under the dim hospital lights. Antonin gently massaged her aching hands and kissed each one of her fingers.

"Of what?" he asked, knowing the answer already. He didn't know why he bothered to ask.

"Death." She said. "I know it's going to happen-"

"Don't talk like that."

"But I must." Nora's bottom lip trembled and a tear rolled down her cheek and into her hair. "We're all going to die someday, perhaps my time is-"

"No." Antonin said shaking his head. He couldn't look at her. She would see the tears building in his eyes. She would think of him as weak. "No, you'll make it."

"But what if I don't, Anty?"

He hesitated and stared down at the chipping peach fingernail polish he placed on her finger a few days earlier. He reminded himself to paint it before he went to sleep that night.

"Your hair is growing back." He noted.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"That has to be a sign that you're getting better." He was falling into his own despair and he was desperately grabbing at air to provide some sort of comfort.

"No," Nora shook her head. "We have to talk-"

She stopped for a moment to cough violently. He took his handkerchief and wiped up the corners of her mouth and gave her a drink of water. She nodded a thank you and he kissed her hand in reply.

"We have to talk about this," Nora said. "We cannot live in a dream world, my love. What if it happens tomorrow?" She paused for a moment and checked to see if he was still listening or would be willing to listen. He hadn't looked up from massaging her hands, but she could feel him hanging on her every word.

"I don't want to die in a hospital, hospitals terrify me. The smells, the sounds, the lights and the white of the walls reminds me of heaven."

"You don't want to go to heaven?" he asked, looking up briefly.

"I do, but not without telling you goodbye. I wake up and I think I died for only a moment and then I see you, asleep in your chair." She nodded towards the wood chair that had become his bench and bed over the last couple of weeks.

"Okay." He said feeling a crook in his neck from the awkward sleep positions he had to endure. He bit his tongue to keep the tears from falling from his eyes and onto his hands.

"Next, I want to wear that emerald green dress I wore to the picnic. It's my favorite dress and I want to wear the black shoes I wore with it as well." Nora exhaled a shaky breath and lifted her aching fingers to touch his cheek. They shook uncontrollably against his skin. "Look at me." She said. His eyes went from her hands to her beautiful eyes. "I loved you since the moment I saw you, although I didn't know it. I love you so much it hurts me to say it. Please, when the time comes can you do me one favor?"

"Anything, my love." Antonin said.

"Let me go." She said with a sniffle. Antonin's heart dropped to his stomach. For a moment, he was a mute. Nora could read his emotions as if they were printed word on parchment, but she continued. "You will have your time to join me and I will be waiting with bated breath for your return, but until that time you'll have to let me go."

Antonin leaned forward, placing his elbows on the bed. He put her hand to his forehead and stared at the chipped nail polish. It began to resemble a deformed eye. He looked back up at her and tried to lie to her, but he couldn't. Not when he was looking into her eyes.

"I-I can't." he said. "I can never let you go."

"Please." Nora begged another tear slipping from her eyes. "I'm just as scared as you are. I don't know what's waiting for me, but I need you to let me go when the time is right you'll do what's best for me. Let me go, darling. We both will know when, but when that time comes-"

"I can't." Antonin said shaking his head. "I can't."

Nora's eyes fluttered with tears. She sniffled and wiped it away with her good hand. She pointed to the stack of three books laying by her bed. "Read to me, please?"

Antonin nodded and stood up, his knees cracking from sitting for so long and thumbed through the books. "What shall I read? Nothing in French, your nurse is still laughing at me for my horrible pronunciation."

Nora smiled weakly. "How about "The Poet and His Bride?" she asked, moving slowly to make room for him. He climbed onto the bed, carefully trying to avoid bumping her. His arm wrapped around him and her head on his chest.

"Chapter one," he read. "There once was a man, a poet to be specific who lived in a small town outside of Moscow. He was nearly thirty, with a business that required him to feel, live, love, hate, yearn and scorn or in other practical terms, a poet. He loved his job, but not as much as he loved his bride." He paused to look at her and she looked back up at him. Her eyes were dancing stars.

"Are you listening?" he asked her playfully.

"I always listen." She chuckled.

She hung Christmas ornaments on the tree. Her off the shoulder red dress hung loosely like her skin. He watched her shoulder bone perk from the skin, its visibility varying on the angle and where her limbs moved. He could see her high cheekbones and strong chin like she had been carved out of wood. Her eyes had darker rims, but it gave her royal eyes a godly aura.

She was sick, but she was alive and ever so beautiful.

"I didn't have time to get you much." She said, pointing to the presents mostly labeled "To Nora" on the front. "I-I'm sorry." She said.

"You never have to get me a thing." He said adjusting the garlands on the tree. He waved his wand and snow fell from a small cloud above them. She smiled weakly and kissed him. Her being alive and in his life was the greatest gift he had ever received.

This was it. Antonin thought she was going to die. She could barely breathe and she had been weak for several days. Her pale dry lips moved slowly talking to him, but he could barely understand her, but he nodded his head and held her tighter in response. She didn't cry or express her fears, she just talked. He suppressed his own emotions, closing his eyes and dragging his fingertips up and down the bridge of her nose to the top of her lips. If he got a wisp of hot air he knew she was alive.

He waited for hours. He knew when the moment came he would beg her to fight and to live. He admitted he was selfish for wanting her to carry on despite the pain it caused her. They stayed up nights before talking about dying and although he prepared himself for the inevitable, he held onto the glimmer of hope that she would live. However when that time came, she would know and she would ask to let her go and he wouldn't.

That night she never asked.

One morning Antonin woke up to have the sunlight shining in his eyes. The curtains were drawn, it had been the first time he saw the sun in weeks, perhaps even a couple of months. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached out to touch his wife's arm next to him. He felt the expensive linen sheets, but she wasn't there. He didn't have to wonder long, he heard her humming from the bathroom.

Her skin had a fresh glow about it. Her lips were pink and her eyes were wide and twinkling. Her natural hair was still dark and damp. It had been awhile since he's seen her real hair. It was a longer boy cut, but still vibrant.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." She said, hugging the towel close to her. She sat at the vanity and toyed with her hair. She finger combed the strands and spiked it up and flattened it down. "You've been asleep for nearly two days straight."

"Has it been that long?" he asked, trying to get his body out of bed, but his mind and ligaments were not cooperating together.

"Yes or close to it." She laughed. It was a miracle. She looked well and lively. Had this all been one horrible nightmare or was this just a dream? He pinched his skin and ripped at the small hairs on his arms. He winced in pain, but nothing happen, it wasn't a dream. He could've cried tears of joy.

"Do you like my hair this short?" she asked. He looked examined her. He liked the boy cut, but he felt a woman's hair should be long, it gave him something to runs his hands through when he kissed her or to pull on when he felt like being kinky.

"I do." He said.

Nora ran her fingers down the side smoothing it out. "I can live with it for a few months." She said. She wrapped her robe around her body and put her makeup on. Her foundation brush went over her cheeks in quick circles and up and down her face and neck. He watched her with a wide grin on his face. She saw him from the corner of her eye and turned to him. "I've never seen a smile like that before." She said.

"You look wonderful, my love." He said. "It's incredible, you're breath taking."

He was overwhelmed with excitement and so was she. He longed to see those rosy cheeks to their brightest pink and a smile on her face. Nora ran from vanity bench to the bed and into his arms. She kissed him lustfully and straddled his hips. "I feel wonderful. My prayers have been answered." She smiled through the happy tears in her eyes and put her hands on his chest.

"Do you want to go for a walk on the property?" she asked in a husky voice. Her smile was sultry and her eyes look heavy lidded.

"Sure." He said, his hands placed on her thighs.

Nora panted in his ear, leaving hot sensations behind. She clawed at the skin under his shirt and their hearts were beating as one. Antonin's knees were buried in the grass and he could feel the cold mud coming through his trousers. She felt so good. She left her kisses along his neck and collar bone and he did the same. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he's felt her, but to him it was worth the wait. He felt alive. The colors lightened by the sun were vibrant and sound he was once aware of left him. There was only her

"Antonin." Nora moaned, her heels digging into his backside. Antonin stared into her eyes and quickened his pace. He came with a soft moan, his arms weakened and twitching from ecstasy. She was so beautiful and everything he could have ever wanted.

"I love you." She kissed him hard, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. He didn't want to leave her, she felt so warm and safe.

"I love you too."

She wanted to go camping, but he wasn't a fan of the outdoors. They used their wands to position linen cloth to make a make shift tent. They lit dim lamps and threw pillow under their tent and camped underneath the sheets together just talking.

"Can I ask you something?" Nora asked.

"Hm?" Antonin responded, dragging his palm down her cheek. "Sure."

"Did you ever have a toy that you loved more than anything?"

"No." Antonin responded, shaking his head. It was true. "My parents didn't believe in giving me toys or anything nice. I used to play with sticks and rocks like a poor mudblood-"

"I don't like that word." Nora mumbled, cutting him off.

"Sorry," Antonin rolled his eyes. "Like a poor child. The only toys I had others bought for me. I had to hide them from my parents, but they eventually found them and made an effort to make sure I learned my lesson." He flinched at the thought of the leather strap that hung on the mantle over the fireplace in the sitting room.

"Oh," Nora said. "Now, I feel horrible for bringing it up."

"Why?"

"Because I had a toy that I loved."

"Nora, I don't mind hearing about your story. Besides, it doesn't make a difference now, what's done is done." He wrapped a finger around hers and listened intently. "Tell me about this toy of yours."

"It was a doll. I named her Rose." She told, suppressing a grin. "I was sick then as well and I didn't have any friends. Mother said that if I couldn't find a friend, I'd have to make one." Nora half grinned and continued. "She was a beautiful doll. She had light green eyes and black hair. Her skin was porcelain and clear and her lips were a bright ruby red. I remembered she wore a beautiful silk purple dress and a hat to match. I used to talk to her and love her, but whenever she spoke back to me, in my mind of course, she sounded like my mother."

Nora scanned Antonin's eyes and ran her hands up the curve of his back. "My mother was a beautiful woman. She had dark hair and light eyes and my father had blonde hair and blue eyes. Mum was a black Irish woman. She tried to hide her Irish roots. She thought of herself as a full blood Brit, but I was the proof of her Celtic roots. She'd yell and scream at me. She's say; "Nora, why can't you be beautiful? Nora, your hair is disgusting! Nora, the only remarkable trait about you is your father's eyes!"

Antonin's blood ran cold for the dead older woman. He could've strangled the bitch himself. Was she blind? She was beautiful and her Irish looks made her even more beautiful.

"When I first bought my wand I tried to change my hair color."

"She was alive when you went to school?"

"No, but when you're reminded how ugly your hair and freckles are when you're a child, it sticks with you."

"You never have to feel that way when you're with me because you are beautiful."

And she was. Aesthetically beautiful was only the beginning, it was her beautiful soul as well. He had never met someone so kind to everyone she came across.

"What constitutes as beauty to you?"

Nora shrugged her shoulders lazily. "I don't know."

"Yes you do, tell me."

"Well," Nora said. "I wanted darker hair and skin that wasn't freckled. I wanted to look like Rose. I thought that was beauty."

Antonin nodded his head in agreement. "Yes," he said. "That is beautiful, but so are blondes, red heads, brunettes, tall, short, thin, slim, chubby, porcelain, freckles, dimples, brown, olive-"

"What are you trying to pointout?"

"Isn't it obvious? There are different types of beauty. There's not just one. Aesthetically there are different combinations that work well on one person, but you have what the others don't have."

"Freckles on their shoulders?"

Antonin kissed her left shoulder that had a couple spotted freckles on the groove of the bone.

"Don't forget the freckles on the bridge of your nose." She put her hand over her face and he pulled them away. "Never hide them under make up again. I love your freckles." He put his thumb on the tip of her pink lips. Her tongue grazed his skin and sucked lightly. Her lips made a small sucking sound, but her tongue continued to trace the ridges of his finger. "You have a heart. Your beauty on the outside matches your beauty on the inside."

Nora wrapped her leg around his. She came closer into his outstretched arms.

"For a Death Eater you sure as sweet," she said planting a kiss on his lips. "Perhaps your inside is beautiful compared to the outside."

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. He had never been happier in his entire life. His muggle hunts had lessened, he woke up with a smile and he fell asleep with one as well. He never stressed over anything and their lives were blissful. He still read to her at night and sometimes she read to him. He took her to St. Mungo's to check on her illness and the healers were amazed at how quickly she recovered and they agreed it was a miracle. He was more optimistic than he ever had been. He looked forward to a bright future with her and hopes for an heir to his estate. They had begun cleaning out Antonin's old bedroom.

It had been an adventure walking down memory lane with pictures of his fellow Slytherin friends crammed in old books and in his dresser between his schools robes and trousers that will not fit him anymore. He disposed of the old sticky explicit magazines he kept under his bed and removed the Quidditch and half naked female posters on his wall. They painted the wall a neutral green color and began searching for cribs. They hoped to have a son by next spring and a girl the year afterward. As much as he enjoyed dreaming about waking up to little hands patting his face, he enjoyed trying for them even more.

Along with his newfound optimism, his faith in humanity and people had grown since the beginning of her illness. The world couldn't have been too dreadful if Nora was alive and well. He had never lived to the extent he had in that short time. He took her to Spain for a change of scenery and they danced into the early morning hours. She looked radiant in a red and black flamboyant Flamenco dress.

He never took her to be a dancer, but apparently the books had done her some good over the years.

"I love Spanish food." She said their final night on vacation. They sat outside under the moon on a balcony overlooking the city. An iron gate was the only object separating them from a twenty foot fall. Antonin peered down for a moment and imagined how easily it would be to throw someone to their death.

"Me too." He said mixing his rice and beans together. He watched her shove food in her mouth rapidly like she wouldn't eat anything else. "Slow down, Nora." He chuckled. "No one is going to eat your-"

"Antonin," she said. Her mouth was completely stuffed with food. Small bits of rice fell from her mouth and onto her lap and the table cloth. "I ont dum of dat." She said her eyes wide as a levitating platter of chocolate cake passed by their table.

"Anything you wish my dear." He said, remarking how delicious the cake looked. He looked at her stomach and tapped his chin.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant, my love?"

Nora shook her head, swallowed her food. "Not yet."

"Hopefully you will be soon."

Antonin went through the mail that was delivered. He set aside Nora's Witch Weekly and Madame Monroe's books of the month suggestion list to be placed with her breakfast tray. She had a few owls from her godmother and her cousins, but there was one owl for him. He looked at the front of the letter and in fancy cursive letting it read in the left corner; Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Antonin,

Rabastan and I are going on a muggle hunt. Care to join?

Rodolphus."

Antonin would've jumped at the opportunity only a few months ago, but after his wife's miraculous recovery, he couldn't gather the cruelty to kill a muggle despite their filthy presence in the world. This was the happiest he's been because of her. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

He responded back with a white lie.

"Rodolphus,

Sorry, I'm very busy tonight, but perhaps another time.

Antonin."

Nora coughed hard into her hand, stepping away from the piano she had been playing and went off to the corner of the room.

"Darling, are you okay?" he asked stepping toward her. Her coughs were guttural and raspy as if her passageways were made of sand. "I'm fine." She was able to belt before another chorus of coughs dragged themselves from her throat. He conjured a glass of water and handed it to her. She nodded her head drank the water in one gulp.

"I'm sorry." She apologized clearing her throat. She looked down at her hand and frowned. On her pink fingertips lay small droplets of red pools. She looked up at him, her face was pale and her eyes shifted from corner to corner of the room.

Antonin's heart was broken yet again.