author_by_night | Drabbleage on a snowy afternoon

Tonks

I wore pink hair to a funeral.

I am still not sure what allowed my hair to turn pink again. Maybe it was determination; perhaps it was this feeling that everything would be all right.

It's not that I don't miss Sirius, Emmeline and Amelia - I do, especially Sirius and Amelia. And I still dread the deaths of those I love.

I was seperated from them at the Hogwarts battle, though, what with spells to dodge and cast, people to find and help.

I didn't need my powers once, nor did I need Remus, Artemis (my childhood best friend, and, incidentally, Remus's sister), or anyone. I had my own strength.

And I was okay.

Perhaps that helped me make my hair pink.

I also knew I had to try it. Not because I wanted to stand out, or to hide myself (and my past), but to honor one of the people who had missed my hair the most.

Professor Dumbledore.

Hedwig

I miss the boy - or young man, I suppose.

The red haired lady keeps me; she talks about her son a lot, saying she misses him.

I'm not sure which son she means.

Sometimes I think she equates the red haired boy and the black haired boy to the point where they are one.

I've often thought the same thing.