Note: Wow, a brand new shiny 'fic! Hello everybody, this is Blood Magic! I've decided to post this because we are nearing the end of The Dark Creature's Child...and because as per usual I was too impatient to wait! Don't panic – I will be updating all of my stories as soon as possible. I break up from University for Christmas in just a few days' time!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

1: Reality

There had never been a wider or more violent awakening to the realities of the world than that which Remus Lupin found himself faced with just two days after his wedding.

Indeed, he realised as he lay sprawled upon the ground in a steadily seeping pool of his own blood, it was entirely unfathomable how the past two days had been so wonderful, so hopeful, so optimistic...

How in Merlin's name he and his wife had lain in bed that very morning and spoken so whimsically about whether or not he would bother making her breakfast in bed ten years down the line was entirely beyond him. The whole thing had been downright foolish as a topic of conversation, and yet at the time it had seemed entirely reasonable.

Remus supposed getting married had a habit of doing that to a person, it could send you off into a fluffy and distorted version of reality where those silly romantic novels teenaged witches seemed so keen on seemed downright real and plausible.

It was bloody stupid, if truth be told.

Because here he was, a thousand worlds away from that morning, back to reality with a bump. Or, to be more precise, with a slashing curse to the chest that had thrown him to the ground with such force that he was sure he had managed to crack his head open in the process.

Yes, to hell with optimism and fairytale endings, because Remus Lupin knew better than that.

Or worse. He knew so much worse. He knew, newly wed or not, that there was a war on, that he might just be on the losing side, that all he held dear or even his very life itself could be snatched away from him in a heartbeat...

Except this wasn't a heartbeat. It was a slow and painful death. And as he watched his masked attacker advance upon him, wand trained triumphantly upon his chest, Remus supposed he couldn't possibly die in any other fashion because reality was just sick and twisted like that.

It very nearly made him laugh, or at least choke out a breath in amusement, which only made him realise that perhaps he wasn't back to reality quite yet because really there was absolutely nothing remotely amusing about this situation. Absolutely nothing at all.

In fairness to himself, disregarding the fact that there wasn't much sane or reasonable about attempting to be fair to oneself inside one's head, the world around him was bound to take on some sort of distorted or indeed surreal quality, what with the amount of blood that he seemed to be losing and the force of the blow to his head that had left stars dancing before his eyes.

Sweet Merlin, he was aching, throbbing, burning, such a dizzying wave of pain that it was consuming him. The world about him, a mass of spells streaking back and forth as a brutal struggle between Order members and Death Eaters raged, and indeed the Death Eater who was fast approaching his crumpled form, seemed somewhat far away, as if Remus were in some way disconnected from it all, as if he wasn't entirely there...

He was slipping away...

The Death Eater raised her wand, slowly, deliberately...

Bloody Bellatrix. It had to be bloody Bellatrix, taunting him like that...

And yet this realisation only made Remus want to laugh again, because really when had he started tagging bloody onto the beginning of phrases in such abundance? Even if it was only inside his head...

Dora was rubbing off on him, clearly...

Dora...

She'd been the other side of the street, last he'd glimpsed. Merlin, he hoped she hadn't seen him fall, he hoped she didn't spot him lying here, bleeding all over the cobbles...

Dying.

Of course she was going to find out eventually. For one thing, honesty was good in a marriage and, more importantly, Remus suspected that dying wasn't the sort of thing that he could just...well...cover up...

It was at that moment that he realised that Bellatrix was raising her wand...

A bright flash of blue light came streaking overhead, and Remus' eyes widened in surprise as Bellatrix hesitated a moment too late, the spell striking her in the shoulder. The Death Eater stumbled, head snapping round towards the source of the spell, only for another spell to shoot forwards, and another, and another...

As he watched Bellatrix dodge a couple of curses, only to be caught in the arm by another, leaving her to stumble backwards into a wall, Remus felt a desperate desire to look round to catch a glimpse of his saviour, but he could do nothing but watch Bellatrix deflect a spell with a furious swipe of her wand, a deep slash upon her shoulder beginning to seep blood all over her black robes. With a furious shriek, the Death Eater took aim at the newest attacker and sent her own barrage of spells flying through the air. A few were deflected against a shielding charm, Remus watched them shoot back overhead, one striking the pavement beside him with a burst of dust, a second smashing through a nearby shop window with an almighty crash. A second later, the werewolf heard the distinct crackling sound of a magical shield shattering under sustained attack, and Bellatrix let out a triumphant cry, raising her wand once again...

At which point Remus felt sudden movement beside him, and a figure crashed face first onto the cobbles beside him. The werewolf caught a brief glimpse of a head of messy bubblegum pink hair before Bellatrix let loose a stunning spell...

Seemingly too dazed to dare to lift her head from the ground, Dora fumbled with her wand, wrenching her arm blindly upwards, with a choked yet fiercely determined shout of:

"PROTEGO!"

And with that, Bellatrix's spell rebounded off the hastily thrown up barrier, the movement far too abrupt for the Death Eater to respond, and Remus gasped in a downright gleeful breath to see the flash of red light strike Voldemort's first lieutenant square in the face, throwing her back against the wall with an audible crack.

And before he could shun his pain just long enough to enjoy the sight of his wife's estranged aunt crumpling to the ground like a rag doll, he felt a hand grasping hold of him by the wrist, followed by the sickening pull of apparation, the pain coursing through his chest and skull seemingly increasing tenfold.

And Remus simply couldn't help it. He cried out in agony, screwing his eyes firmly shut and willing himself to pass out...

When he came to, after an undeterminable length of time, he could feel an almost suffocating pressure upon his chest and a gruff voice from somewhere towards his feet observed grimly:

"He's a goner, lass. There's no doubt about it."

"Shut UP, Mad-Eye!" Dora's voice demanded furiously, the final few syllables cracked, nearing a sob. "Just...bloody shut up!" The pressure upon his chest seemed to increase and as he attempted to gasp air into his lungs, he heard his wife demand: "Stop bleeding, Remus...just...just stop bloody bleeding..."

"Blood's not going to clot after a curse like that, lass..."

"SHUT UP, MAD-EYE! Come on, Sweetheart...stop...stop bleeding...just...just stop..."

"Here, let go of that, you're suffocating him." Remus heard Moody instruct, voice suddenly unnaturally soft and caring. "Let him breathe in his last minutes, Tonks. It's the best you can do for him."

For a long moment, Dora paid her mentor not a blind bit of notice, and yet as Remus managed to prise his heavy eyelids open, the werewolf watched the grizzled old wizard lay a blurry hand upon the witch's shoulder.

"Come on, lass. Come on, that's it..."

And slowly, the pressure upon his chest began to ease and Dora straightened up with a deep, shuddered breath.

And as their eyes met, the pain and resignation seeping out into the air until the world seemed suddenly grey and bleak, Remus knew precisely what was coming.

He was going to die.

Dora gazed down at the broken and bleeding form of her husband of just two days, and after what seemed like an eternity she carefully wet her lips, her expression growing surprisingly fierce as she whispered:

"Leave us."

Moody slowly withdrew a heavy hand from the witch's shoulder, pausing to lean forward until he could meet Remus' eye.

Remus wondered what he might say, this great man who had seen so many people die this way. He wondered if there were any words, if after a while it was possible to know what to tell a man in his last moments...

But Moody merely reached forward to clamp a hand down upon the werewolf's arm, gnarled fingers gripping tightly for a moment, before he gave a firm nod and straightened up. And with that, he turned and walked away.

As Dora reached to take hold of his hand, Remus forced a gasp of air into his lungs, ready to speak, to say something, anything before it was too late...

"Shh." she breathed, reaching to stroke a unfathomably soothing hand down his cheek, seemingly oblivious to the blood that became smeared upon her fingertips. "It's alright, Sweetheart. It's going to be alright."

He wanted to tell her how brave she was, how utterly fearless, and how he loved her for it, how he loved her for everything...

And yet the words struggled to form upon his tongue. His vision swam as Dora leant down towards him, hot breath still ragged from the conflict tickling his face as she brushed a kiss to his cheek, hand sweeping the hair back from his eyes. He allowed his eyes to drift closed again as she felt her lean closer still, hands reaching to slide carefully around him, lips brushing his ear.

"Don't be frightened." she whispered as he allowed his himself to slump sideways against her, and as he breathed in the gloriously familiar scent of coconut shampoo mixed with the flowery perfume he'd bought her the previous Christmas he managed to raise a heavy, lead-like arm until he to tangle a hand in her hair.

"Nor you..." he insisted, the words little more than a sharply exhaled breath. "Stay strong without me...don't...don't let them win..."

As he trailed off, breath entirely spent, her grip upon him tightened, and as he sluggishly dragged his eyes open again she drew back a little to regard him, dark eyes unnaturally steely. And then she told him:

"I won't be without you, Remus. I simply won't. You can't die."

Her refusal to accept the inevitable was utterly crushing. Remus wanted to shake his head, wanted to plead with her not to say such a thing because he simply couldn't bear it. He'd promised himself just two days previously that he would never disappoint her, never let her down, and yet here he was doing precisely that.

Because love might have been the most powerful of all magics, but Remus was sure that this time it was simply too late...

No matter what he had promised, he couldn't stop death...

Dora drew in a deep breath, before turning to look searchingly over her shoulder. Remus strained to see what she was looking at, and could just about making out the blurry figure of Mad-Eye Moody stood a short distance off, keeping a careful eye on their surroundings. Dora stared over at him for a long moment, lips pursing together in thought, before she turned back to gaze down at her husband again, expression once again steely. She reached to slide her arms around him, beginning to ease him up from the ground, causing the werewolf to wince. The sudden movement made his head spin and he felt instantly faint.

"Dora..." he wheezed, face contorting at the wave of nausea that swept over him. "What..."

"Shh." the witch hissed, pausing to glance over her shoulder again, and when she looked back at him again her gaze upon him was fiercely determined.

"You're not going to die, Sweetheart." she whispered, pulling him up into a sitting position until his head lolled forward, chin coming to rest upon her shoulder.

As he struggled against the blackness that was threatening to descend upon his vision, Remus caught sight of Moody turning abruptly to face them.

"Tonks?" the old Auror barked as he began to stomp his way hurriedly back towards them. "What are you doing?"

As he felt Dora adjust her grip around his middle, Remus couldn't help but feel that this was a good question, and as the blackness began to descend he felt the familiar brush of her lips against his ear as she whispered:

"You're not going to die, because I won't let you."

And with that, pain erupted through his chest and he instantly faded into darkness as he once again felt the sudden pull of apparation.

As husband and wife disappeared with a loud crack, Moody's shout of protest echoed around the empty clearing, falling entirely on deaf ears.