“Alice, dear, you and Frank have a visitor! Your son Neville is here to see you, isn’t that lovely?�

Alice Longbottom glanced up at the St. Mungo’s healer, smiled vaguely, and returned her attention to the gum wrapper she was twisting into a knot.

The knot kept her busy. It made sense. It was a comforting thing to do, just as walking around the ward was comfortable. Making knots allowed her to feel useful, as if she really mattered. She knew she had done other things once, things that were just as important, but she had given up trying to remember exactly what.

“Hello, Mum. Hi, Dad.� The visitor slowly approached her, smiling sadly.

That voice…she knew that voice! It belonged to someone important…someone she cared about…she looked up, but could not recognize the voice’s owner. This man looked strange, with unhealed cuts on his face and long, shaggy hair. Disappointed, she focused on her knot once more, barely pausing to glance up when the visitor sat down in a chair he conjured out of nowhere.

I used to do that, she thought, but the thought meant nothing; it was just a fragment…but all the same, an unbidden image came to her…she was younger, and had conjured a chair for an elderly woman to sit in while the woman had held a baby boy…

She shook the thought out of her head. She needed to focus on her knot.

“I just wanted to tell you that it’s finished. We…I dunno…I guess we finally got justice. Voldemort is gone, Harry killed him! Well…I guess Voldemort killed himself…but I helped.� The man smiled proudly, but the smile slid off his face slowly as he shook his head and continued, “And Bellatrix is gone too! Mrs. Weasley killed her. Ginny’s mum, of all people!� The visitor’s voice faded and died, and he stared at the floor with tears glistening in his eyes. “Bellatrix deserved it, but still…it doesn’t change anything, does it…�

Bellatrix…the name sounded familiar…maybe it was the name of that nice healer that brought them food, except Alice doubted it, because Bellatrix didn’t sound like a nice name.

Her earlier memory returned, but this time it was clearer, as if viewed through a camera that had suddenly focused. There had been a smiling man standing next to her, and the man had been someone she loved. She glanced over at the man sitting in the next bed, and recognition hit her. He was the man in the memory. She had loved him. Perhaps she still did, but she couldn’t remember.

The old woman in the memory was familiar, too. She had visited many times before, bringing a boy with her. But who had the boy been? She shook her head again. It didn’t matter if she remembered; the memory would just go away again. Sometimes it made her sad; when she could remember good things, she wanted to keep them, put them somewhere safe where she wouldn’t lose them. The memory with the woman and the man—wait, the man, he was her husband—and the baby boy—that was a good memory.

She looked at the visitor again. There was something so familiar about him. He looked like someone she knew. She recognized this feeling; it was always associated with someone the healer brought…

Alice went back to her knot, but not before she noticed that the visitor was crying. Silly man; what was he crying for? Maybe he would stop if he could make a knot, too. She searched for a gum wrapper to give him.

Her visitor—or was it their visitor? She could no longer remember who the man in the next bed was—sighed. “Mum, I know you can’t recognize me, but please try. I need you. I need you to know who I am.�

Alice found a gum wrapper and pressed it into the strange man’s hands. He smiled sadly. “Thanks, Mum.�

There, she had made him smile! She had done something useful!

The image came into her head again, even sharper than before…the man in the bed next to hers, and the woman, and the baby boy. This visitor had been there. He was…he had been the baby! The baby, the baby that the woman had held…and the woman…she was Frank’s mother! And Frank, he was her husband, the man in the bed next to her! And the baby…the baby was…

Neville. Her son.

The strange man in front of her was her son. Her little boy! He looked battered and worn, to be sure, but he was so tall, and he looked like her! She could see her round face reflected in his. She tried to tell him how proud she was that her son was here with her, making knots out of gum wrappers…but she couldn’t make the words, and now it was slipping away…who had the old woman been?

A sad look crossed her face. There, she had lost another memory. What a pity.

The strange man sighed again and rose to leave. “Good-bye, Dad, Mum…I’ll be back soon.� The nice healer stopped to chat with him, but Alice paid no attention.

She was too busy making another knot.

It had been sixteen hours, and Dora had still not contacted her.

Andromeda had tried to keep herself busy, she really had. It kept her from thinking of the awful possibilities that the night had in store for them all. She had cleaned the kitchen, read a magazine, rearranged the furniture in the parlor, cooed at her grandson, and even laid down to sleep, but her attempts had been half-hearted and it was never long before she turned to another activity. The restless energy had been building since Remus had run out the door, and the only thing that had kept her from running to Hogwarts herself was the infant now clutched in her arms.

Surely a battle couldn’t take this long?

She remembered, from ages ago, a conversation she had shared with Ted’s mother. Margaret had grown up during the Muggles’ World War II, and her father had been killed in the fighting.

“It was awful,� she remarked once, her voice full of sadness. “We didn’t hear from him for months. And then, one day after I arrived home from school—I was seventeen then—we saw two men in uniform walking towards our house. My mum fainted then and there, because she knew they had come to tell us why there were no more letters.�

The only men in uniform for this war were those who wore Death Eater robes. Andromeda supposed it was ironic that she and Margaret shared the same fear, but for very different reasons.

Where was Dora?

She wandered around the house, too close to panic to appreciate the way the late-afternoon sun lit her parlor elegantly. It had been months since the sun had shone properly. If it had been a normal day, she and Remus and Dora would have taken Teddy outside to enjoy the spring warmth. Remus would have made them all tea—bless him, he insisted on pampering all the girls in the house—and they could have pretended, for just a few hours, that they weren’t in hiding, that the Fidelius charm over the house wasn’t the only thing keeping them from torture and death. But it wasn’t a normal day, and she would not leave the house until she heard a shred of news.

Andromeda clutched Teddy closer to her, fearing for the newborn’s parents. She had just re-entered the kitchen, thinking that perhaps she ought to eat, when the intruder alarms went off.

Impossible, she thought, as she ran to place Teddy in his bassinet and retrieve her wand. We’re under the Fidelius Charm. No one can find us unless…

Unless…

Her breath stopped. If the Death Eaters were here, then that meant…

But as she peered out the curtains, there were no Death Eaters. There was only a stocky red-headed man, walking slowly towards her front porch. Recognizing a Weasley brother, Andromeda opened the door a crack. If a Weasley was here, then Kingsley, their Secret-Keeper, must have sent him.
The red head bobbed closer, and Andromeda realized that he was the second of Molly’s sons. “Charlie?� she asked, surprised. Why wasn’t he in Romania?

He looked up, and Andromeda was shocked to see how haggard he looked. His face showed the traces of a bloody nose, and dark circles surrounded his eyes. But it wasn’t his physical appearance that stopped her in her tracks; it was the aura he carried around him of one who was bringing bad tidings. The pain of loss showed in his eyes, in the way he seemed bent with sorrow, in the very air around him. A vise closed around Andromeda’s heart, and suddenly she knew exactly how Margaret’s mother had felt those many years ago. She opened the door fully and faced him as he ascended the steps of the porch.

“It’s Dora, isn’t it?�

Charlie could only nod, his eyes full of unshed tears. “Yes. Her and Remus.�

Andromeda fell to her knees.

*****

The next day was a blur. Charlie had told her of Voldemort’s defeat, how Harry Potter had taken care of him once and for all. Then he had insisted she come with him to Hogwarts; everyone was gathered there, and it wouldn’t be good for her to be alone. But didn’t he understand? She was alone, now. It almost felt as if Andromeda Tonks had ceased to exist. She was dead, too, gone as surely as her husband and daughter. All that remained was an empty shell, a body that could still think and breathe but that could feel nothing.

This was so much worse than Ted’s death. When Ted had passed on, she had still had Dora to cling to. Now she had no one.

Andromeda had always been more prone to empathy than her siblings, a fact that Bellatrix and Narcissa had exploited and that their mother had never understood. As Andromeda had grown up, she had learned to shut off her emotions, the better to fit in with the family. It had taken Ted to draw her feelings out again; Ted with his jovial laugh, his love of life, and his ability to nurse an emotionally starved teenager back to health. He had taught her how to live again, and then he had given her Dora, the daughter who showed her how to laugh. But how could she laugh now? How could she ever laugh again? Was it possible to go on living when those who had taught her how were gone?

But it was easier to go along with Charlie than to explain, so she had packed an overnight bag, scooped up Teddy, and followed him to the scene of the worst destruction she had ever witnessed.

Debris was everywhere. Shards of glass littered the steps; blood and burns stained the once pristine lawns of her alma mater. Craters from missed spells pockmarked the soil, and the occasional giant footprint marked a sharp indent in the landscape. As Andromeda looked around, she could only wonder: was that where Dora had fallen? Had Remus been beside her, or had he died first, thinking his wife was home and safe? Were they even aware that their child was an orphan?

She tripped on a chunk of stone, and would have fallen if Charlie had not steadied her. For reasons she couldn’t fathom that one moment almost broke her, but she held her head high and refused to acknowledge the burning sensation in her eyes. Andromeda Tonks might have been gone, but Andromeda Black was still very much there—and Blacks never, ever wept in public.

Charlie led her to a room off the Great Hall, where all the dead had reverently been placed until funeral arrangements could be made. There were at least fifty bodies, perhaps more, and at first Andromeda walked in a daze past dozens of other mourners. She was afraid to look down, afraid to see who else she might have lost. Charlie seemed to understand this; he touched her elbow lightly, and she followed him to where her daughter now rested without once looking away from his trademark Weasley hair.

She hardly noticed when he stopped and almost ran into him. “Sorry,� she whispered. She closed her eyes, steeling herself, and gripped Teddy to her as tightly as she could without hurting him. She hoped he would stay asleep. It did not matter that he was only weeks old; she did no want him to remember his parents this way. But who else could she give him to?

It was just her now; her and one tiny infant. Andromeda took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

Dora and Remus lay side by side, serene and untroubled. Dora’s hair was her natural mousy brown, and suddenly this upset Andromeda. She was sure that if Dora had a choice, she would want her hair to be her favorite garish shade of pink when they laid her to rest. And why, oh why did she have to look so peaceful? If it had not been for her chalk-white face, Andromeda could have imagined Dora waking up from a deep sleep and assuring her mum that everything was fine now, that they could all go home together and make a cup of tea to steady her nerves. But the minutes ticked on, and there was no sign of movement, no rise and fall of her chest or telltale twitch of an eye. Andromeda choked back a sob as she knelt by her daughter’s lifeless shell, and in a rush Andromeda Tonks pushed her way past Andromeda Black’s emotionless front and she could feel again.

But why now? She didn’t want to feel; the numbness was almost better than this crushing agony. Her body wracked with heaving sobs that she could no longer control, and Teddy soon added his mewling protests when her crying woke him. Andromeda held her daughter’s lifeless hand and cried until there were no tears left in her, almost oblivious of her grandson in the face of her overwhelming grief. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair that his was happening. How could the world take her darling away from her? A parent should never have to bury her child!

It was Teddy that made her regain control. Andromeda realized it was not only her sobs that had woke him; she had pulled Teddy so tight to her body that he was almost smothered. She gave him some breathing room and shushed him as her sobs gradually faded. Her breathing steadied slowly, and she suddenly realized that Charlie Weasley was kneeling next to her with his arm around her shoulders. Tears were coursing silently down his face as he stared at the body of his former classmate, but he seemed too tired to notice.

Andromeda awkwardly patted his arm. The Black in her scowled at the need for comfort, but the grieving mother appreciated the gesture. “Thank you.�

Charlie just shook his head. “It isn’t much, but it helped my mum...�

“What?� Andromeda’s heart stopped again. Why had Molly been here?

“It…Fred…� Charlie gestured to a body a few meters away, and abruptly buried his face in his hands as his shoulders shook with silent, helpless sobs.

“Oh…� A new wave of hopelessness crashed over her. Not a Weasley. She knew Molly had lost both her brothers in the first war; now she had lost a son, as well. Andromeda was not the only grieving mother.

She had thought she had no tears left, but a fresh river flooded out of her eyes as she stared at Fred Weasley’s supine body. Where was his twin? Was the rest of the family all right? In her own grief, she had not even thought to ask about the state of her friends. She supposed she ought to feel ashamed, but the numbness had returned, and she found she couldn’t.

“Mum,� Charlie said suddenly, wiping his eyes. “Mum, why are you back here?

Andromeda glanced up and was shocked at the changes in her friend. Molly, once so plump, seemed a mere shadow of herself. Her very essence seemed limp with fatigue, her eyes wide with shock. She barely noticed anything around her; she just knelt at Fred’s side and absentmindedly stroked his hair.

Charlie hauled himself off the floor and hurried to his mother. “Mum, have you slept?� he asked gently. Molly ignored him, so he carefully grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. “Mum,� he repeated, “have you slept at all?�

Molly finally seemed to notice him. “No, dear, I haven’t.�

Charlie took her hands in his. “You need to sleep, Mum. Come with me, we’ll get you a potion…� But he broke off as Molly shook her head violently.

“Not yet, Charlie. I need to be here…�

“No, you don’t, Mum, you haven’t slept in days…�

“Charlie!� she snapped. “Please, just let me sit with your brother.�

Charlie’s shoulders sagged with defeat, and Andromeda stepped in. “I’ll stay with her, Charlie. You must be starved; go get something to eat.�

“I can’t, I need to look after Mum. I wasn’t here when I should have been; I can’t let her down now.� Charlie’s shook his head helplessly, and Andromeda was struck by how very pathetic he looked.

“When did you get here?� she asked quietly. “And have you had anyone look at your nose?� It still looked swollen, and the dried blood beneath it looked rather horrific now that she was paying attention.

“Oh…I got here this morning, after…after it was all over. And no, I haven’t. I’ve had…other things…on my mind.�

Despite herself, Andromeda’s curiosity peeked from beneath her depression.

“How did your nose get hurt, Charlie? If you weren’t here for…well…�

Stupid, stupid. That was why he was so depressed…he hadn’t been here to fight. And she had reminded him of that.

But Charlie, thankfully, let it slide. “George,� he answered morosely. “He decked me. I should have known better than to tell him it was my fault…but I felt like it was, since I wasn’t here…�

“Hold still,� Andromeda said. She carefully juggled Teddy so that she could get her wand out. Concentrating, she pointed it at Charlie’s nose and said, “Episkey.�

The swelling went down, and Charlie sighed in relief. Andromeda tried to be happy, but the incident had reminded her of all the times she had used that spell on Dora, and she found she was once again on the verge of tears.

“Feel better?� she asked, trying not to sound as miserable as she felt.

Charlie nodded gratefully, but his eyes filled up again at the sight of his mother, who was once again stroking Fred’s hair. After whispering his thanks he rushed out of the room, almost barreling into other mourners.

Poor Charlie. And Poor Molly. Andromeda supposed she had better do as she had promised. Still keeping a tight grip on Teddy, she knelt awkwardly next to her friend. “Hello, Molly,� she said weakly.

“Andromeda,� Molly said back, with a shadow of a smile, but it abruptly faded when she looked at the bodies of Remus and Dora. She seemed to struggle for words for a moment, and finally asked, “How are you?�

Andromeda shook her head. “You’ve seen me better, I’m sure.�

The ghost smile appeared again. “As I’m sure you’ve seen me.�

They both sat in silence for a moment, until Teddy decided to let them know he was hungry.

“Oh,� Molly breathed, looking down at him. “Oh, Andromeda, he looks just like his mum.�

“I know,� Andromeda said, trying hard not to sob again. “Except his eyes. His eyes are most definitely Remus’s.�

“May I hold him?� Molly asked hesitantly.

“Yes, of course,� Andromeda answered, and carefully delivered Teddy into her waiting arms.

“Hello, dear,� Molly said softly. “Aren’t you beautiful.�

Teddy looked up and smiled at her. “Oh!� Molly said, looking surprised. “Isn’t he too young to be able to do that?�

Andromeda shrugged. “You have much more experience than me, Molly.�

Molly smiled back at him, a genuine smile, though it was bittersweet. “You’re a very special little boy, you know.�

Teddy wailed again. He could not be kept waiting when his stomach was empty.

“Here,� Andromeda said. “I have a bottle with me.� She pulled it out and gently took her grandson back.

As Teddy sucked away greedily, the moment of merriment faded. Andromeda glanced at Molly. “I still can’t believe it’s all over.�

Molly shook her head. “Neither can I. But I’m glad you weren’t here, Andromeda. It was…horrific.� Molly looked on the verge of tears again. “I had never killed anyone before. I don’t ever want to again, no matter how necessary it might be. I’m just…I’m just not cut out for wars.�

“Molly,� Andromeda asked hesitantly. Did she really want to know this? “Do you…do you know who killed Remus and Dora?�

Molly nodded. “I heard that Dolohov killed Remus. But…oh, Andromeda…Bellatrix killed your daughter. And then I killed her.�

Andromeda didn’t know what to say. She had suspected, she had guessed…but it was another thing entirely to deal with the reality that her own sister had killed the most precious person in her life.

Molly was sobbing again. “I’m sorry, dear…I…I killed your sister…�

“Bellatrix is no sister of mine.� Andromeda hardly recognized her voice; it was a snarl, an animal sound, and Molly looked up in alarm. “She disowned me a long time ago. We haven’t spoken for years.� Andromeda fought to control her fury, taking deep breaths. Why did it have to be Bellatrix? Why not some stranger? How much more complicated could grieving become?

When she could speak normally again, she looked Molly square in the eye and said, “Thank you, Molly, for avenging my daughter’s death. You are more of a sister now than Bellatrix ever was.�

She wondered vaguely how Narcissa had fared in all this. Ah, well, plenty of time to find that out later…

“How can we move forward?� Molly asked, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Families divided, parents…parents outliving their children…� she began to sob quietly again, one hand clutching that of her dead son.

Andromeda put her bottle down, ignoring Teddy’s protests to reach an arm around her friend. She struggled to keep the tears from her own voice as she looked at her own daughter and son-in-law, and then at the grandson they had left her.

“We keep living the way we always do: one step at a time. Because, as much as we’ll miss them…� and she stopped as her voice caught.

Teddy wailed again, and Molly smiled weakly at the little boy. “There are others who still need us now,� she finished, and Andromeda nodded.

“Exactly,� she said.

She picked up the bottle again to quiet Teddy.

“Well,� said Molly slowly, “how about we see to getting you a room for tonight? I’d invite you to the Burrow, but we haven’t seen it yet…�

“It’s fine,� Andromeda said. “I imagine most people are just finding a spot on the floor of the castle.�

“Yes, I think so.�

“Then I’ll do that as well. I’m sure the school desks won’t protest at spending a night as a bed and a bassinet.� She had always done well at transfiguration.

As they stood up, they took another long look at their lost loved ones. “I’ll be back, Dora,� Andromeda whispered. “And I’ll see you, too, Remus.�

She turned her back on the dead and shifted her focus to the living. “Now, Molly, Charlie was right. We should both really get a potion and try to sleep…�

It had been a day and a half since Ginny had last seen Harry, and she was starting to get annoyed.

She had spent the last three hours roaming the castle in search of him. As she walked about through the devastation, she helped where she could—whether it was repairing a shattered window or cleaning a dark burn mark off the wall. Ginny ambled about each floor, not really seeing, not really caring, simply looking for something to do to keep her mind off the dead lying in the Great Hall. It seemed like such a dream, in a way; why did she care about the state of the castle when her brother was dead? Why was she focusing on a scorch mark from some missed spell when baby Teddy was an orphan? They had won, yes, but why did it have to come at such a terrible cost? It just wasn’t fair! At first, she had wished she could rant at the injustice of it, or fall on the floor and pitch a temper tantrum like a three-year-old. Now she just felt numb, and she was tired of trying to understand. Why were the good people the ones who always sacrificed the most? War made no sense. Grief made no sense. Life made no sense, either.

She wished she could find Harry. If there was anyone who could understand how she felt, it was him.

The morning lengthened, and the shadows gradually shrank as the sun rose in the sky. The later in the day it got, the more deserted the castle seemed, and Ginny wandered the halls with fewer and fewer interruptions. As afternoon approached, she thought of going to the kitchens to find a bite to eat; as she made her way towards the Entrance Hall, however, she was distracted by a lone voice. Peering down the stairs, she watched the sunlight reflect surreally off Professor McGonagall’s stiff form. Her hawk-like brow was furrowed in concentration as she repaired the staircase banisters, and she seemed lost in her own world of complicated wand movements and constant muttering. Ginny didn’t mean to disturb her, but when she stumbled on a piece of debris McGonagall stopped what she was doing and looked up.

“Miss Weasley!� she said, when Ginny walked down the stairs to join her. “Please be careful; these stairs are rather dangerous at the moment.� When Ginny safely reached the ground, Professor McGonagall wiped her brow and said, “I’m glad you’re here; would you mind levitating that chunk of the banister for a moment?� She turned her attention back to the staircase. “And incidentally, I am glad to see you looking so well,� she said softly.

“Thank you, Professor,� Ginny said. She felt it would be rude to point out that appearances were deceiving, and that if her exterior reflected what she felt inside her whole body would be bruised and battered and she would be screaming in pain. Instead, she levitated the banister Professor McGonagall had indicated and replied, “I’m glad you’re out of the hospital wing.�

“I am as well, thank you. I’ll be sore for a while, but it takes more than broken ribs to keep me down for long. But what are you doing, wandering around now? Where is the rest of your family?� McGonagall asked, and Ginny heard the professor’s voice crack. Apparently she found it as hard to think about their missing member as Ginny did.

“They were in the Gryffindor common room when I left,� she said. “But I had to get away for a while. Mum was stifling me.�

McGonagall smiled sadly. “I’m rather surprised you got away, then. When…well, when a mother loses a child, it’s rather hard to let the rest out of her clutches,� she said thickly. Ginny watched her turn around quickly and blow her nose on a handkerchief that hadn’t been there a moment before.

Ginny suddenly felt her throat constricting, and it seemed a slab of rock was pressing into her chest. She had felt grief before, first with Sirius and then with Dumbledore, but never like this; never had it been so…so personal. She had never thought grief could weigh her down so much; she almost wanted to sink into the floor and join her brother in the world beyond, for then this pain would go away…

“Miss Weasley, would you like a handkerchief?� Professor McGonagall turned around again, holding another handkerchief out to Ginny. Ginny nodded mutely, trying to keep the tears inside, but before she could understand what was happening her face was screwed up in pain and she was sobbing on McGonagall’s shoulder.

It was very awkward, when she thought about it later; she was certain that McGonagall had never seen her weep before, and now here she was, offering a shoulder for her to cry on as if she was Ginny’s mum. In a way, though, she was very thankful; Mum was already so emotional, Ginny didn’t dare add to the fuss. It would only upset her mother more.

After a while—it could have been one minute or ten, Ginny wasn’t sure—she gently pulled herself away from her professor and blew her nose. “Thank you,� she said stuffily, trying to maintain what dignity she could without more tears leaking out.

“You’re quite welcome, Miss Weasley,� McGonagall said, wiping tears out of her own eyes as well. “Please believe me when I say I’ve been there before.� She turned to once again eye the staircase critically. “Now then,� she said, her voice brisk once more, “let’s fix the last bit of this staircase.�

Ginny followed McGonagall’s instructions to the letter, and soon the gleaming marble looked as if it had never seen a battle. Professor McGonagall nodded approvingly.

“It looks as good as new. Thank you for your help, Miss Weasley.�

“You’re welcome,� Ginny answered. She knew perfectly well that McGonagall had not needed her help at all. She had simply provided a distraction, but for that Ginny was grateful. It helped her focus on something besides her morbid thoughts.

“Mr. Potter!� Professor McGonagall exclaimed suddenly. “We were beginning to wonder if you had left the country!�

Ginny’s head whipped around to face the newly-repaired staircase. Sure enough, there he was, coming down the stairs with a slight smile on his face as he answered McGonagall.

“Harry,� she breathed, as she watched him descend to the Entrance Hall. She hardly noticed when Professor McGonagall bade her leave and walked away quickly, trying to act inconspicuous. Ginny’s attention was too focused on the young man approaching her.

“Ginny,� she heard him whisper. As soon as he said her name his haggard face split into a grin, and he hurried to close the distance between them.

Ginny didn’t know how to feel about him just then, but it didn’t stop her from flinging herself into his open arms. She had missed him so much!

It felt wonderful to have his arms around her again. Ginny held him tight, reveling in his smell, the feel of his hands on her back, and the way her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and shoulder. The moment was so perfect, with the sun shining brightly, birdsong echoing across the grounds, and just the two of them, alone … until Ginny remembered how miserable she felt. How could she enjoy this when everything else had fallen apart? Sighing inwardly, she slowly disentangled herself from his embrace.

Harry didn’t want to let her go, but when her body language told her he should he allowed her to back up and eye him critically. Ginny drank in the sight of him, letting her eyes roam from head to toe, but all she saw were reminders of how hard this war had been on him. His face was covered with bruises and his arms with burns. By the way he winced when she touched his chest she guessed Professor McGonagall was not the only one with damaged ribs. And, though he looked as if he had bathed, it apparently hadn’t done much good; she could still see dirt caked into his hands, and his hair still looked greasy. He needed feeding up, too, as his Muggle clothes were hanging off his lean frame. She wanted to say how much she had missed him (or even how annoyed she had been that she couldn’t find him), but all that came out was, “Harry, you look awful.�

Ginny could have kicked herself. She was finally reunited with her dream man of the last seven years, and all she could say was “you look awful�? Her hopes of a romantic reunion were quickly dashed.

“I feel awful,� he said. “Well, I did feel awful, but I’m a lot better now I’ve seen you,� he corrected himself, grinning sheepishly.

“Still as sweet as honey, aren’t you.�

“Of course,� he said, cupping her chin in his hand. His gaze lingered on her face, as if just looking into her eyes was the most important thing in the world. “I’ve missed you, Ginny. More than you know.�

“I missed you, too Harry, but I honestly don’t know whether to be mad at you or to snog you senseless.� Ginny looked down, trying to avoid his stare until she had said her piece.

“I hope you choose the snogging—�

Ginny pulled farther away. “Harry,� she said stiffly, “do you have any idea how I’ve felt all year?�

Harry, looking forlorn without her in his arms, shook his head slowly. “You were probably terrified.�

“That’s not the half of it,� she snapped. Ginny had no idea why she was suddenly so angry, but it seemed that every resentful thought from the whole year had risen to the surface, demanding she voice it aloud. “You broke up with me because you had to act like a noble prat and be all self-sacrificing. You didn’t dance with me at the wedding, and then you ran off without so much as a ‘good-bye,’ and I couldn’t talk to you at all or know if you were safe. And then, when I finally saw you again, there was no greeting, there was no “I missed you,� you only told me to stay out of the fighting even though I’ve proved before that I can take on Death Eaters—�

“Ginny, please—�

“And then you went missing right after I found out my brother had been killed, and the next time I saw you I—I thought you were—� she choked back a sob— “were dead like him, and I wished I was dead, too—�

“Ginny—�

“Don’t interrupt me!� she spat, shaking away the placatory hand he had offered. “And then all of a sudden you were alive again, and I thought my heart would explode because I was so happy, but everyone else got to you first and you didn’t try to find me and then you disappeared again and then I…well, I got really angry,� Ginny finished lamely, finally running out of steam.

Harry had the grace to look ashamed of himself, at least. He really did look pathetic, with a five-‘o’clock shadow on his chin and his face bruised and puffy…

But the pathetic look vanished, to be replaced by the firmly-set jaw and hard eyes of an angry young wizard. “Ginny. I’m sorry for all of that, I really am. But did you really think I wanted to do any of that?� he asked, his voice shaking. “Do you think it wasn’t torture for me to break up with you? Do you think I didn’t want to dance with you at the wedding? Do you think I never wanted to talk to you, more than anyone else in the world? Do you think I never missed you while I was on the run? Do you think my heart didn’t skip a beat when I finally saw you, or that I didn’t think you were as able as me to fight? DO YOU THINK I DIDN’T DIE INSIDE WHEN I HEARD YOU SCREAM MY NAME?� he yelled. “I did all of it to keep you safe from him, to keep you from dying like…like Fred…�

His voice broke, and Ginny felt ashamed that she had been so selfish.

“I’m sorry,� she whispered. “I—�

But Harry wasn’t finished yet. “I used to take out the Marauder’s Map every night and stare at your dot. I wondered if you were all right, if you were being mistreated, if you were thinking of me …� He paused, and took a deep breath as if he was about to plunge head-first into the lake. “Do you really think I would have done any of that if I didn’t… if I didn’t… love you?�

Ginny’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart swelled within her. Had he really just said what she thought he had? The words came off his tongue as if he had never used them before, but they truly seemed sincere…

“You love me?� she whispered.

“I…yes, I love you,� he answered, more strongly now. “With all my heart.� For the first time he looked nervous, as if afraid of what she might say. Before she had even thought of a response, however, he rushed on. “And for your information, I knew exactly where you were after the battle. But I was tired, and before I talked to you I really owed an explanation to Ron and Hermione.�

“But not to me?� Ginny asked, frowning as she tensed again. He had to ruin it, didn’t he? Men could be so stupid, and Harry more than any other really knew how to put his foot in his mouth.

“Of course to you,� he said, eyes widening fearfully as he realized his mistake. “But,� he said, drawing her into his arms again, “I didn’t come find you right away because I hoped we could talk for longer than a few minutes before I fell asleep standing up. I hoped we could talk for years, if … if you want to.�

Ginny smiled slightly. At least he could recover better than Ron.

She found herself staring into his eyes, and all the tension drained out of her. Why was she thinking of Ron at a time like this? “I think I would like that,� she said. It was amazing how fascinating Harry’s mouth looked in the gleam of the afternoon sunlight. “I would love to spend years with you, because I think I love you, too, Harry Potter.�

Ginny didn’t know where the words had come from, but she knew instantly that they were true. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once to know that she cared so much about him, but it was also real; even with all the destruction around her, when everything seemed so wrong and unfair, she was in love!

“Really?� Harry asked. “You love me, too?� He looked stunned, but happier than she had ever seen him. His lips were moving closer…

“I love, you, too,� she repeated, and then she was lost in the sweetness of his kiss.

It was not like the kiss on his birthday, or like their first kiss in the Gryffindor common room, or like any other kisses they had shared in the stolen moments a year before. This was something new, something to be cherished, and Ginny felt as if she could stay there forever without ever getting tired of the feel of his lips against hers.

After ages, it seemed, she pulled back, gasping for air but still smiling. Harry looked down at her and grinned happily. “I could get used to that.�

“Really?� she said, tracing the curve of his face with her finger.

“Really.� And he kissed her again.

A rumbling noise finally brought them to their senses, and this time it was Harry who pulled back. He put a hand to his midsection, and Ginny giggled when she realized that the rumbling noise had been his stomach growling.

“Ginny?� he asked.

“Yes?�

“I…I love you, but I’m also starving. Can we get some lunch?�

Ginny giggled again. “I suppose.�

Throughout the rest of the day, Ginny carried the thought of Harry’s love within her like a talisman against reality. As she helped scrub blood off the castle’s flagstones, and discussed funeral arrangements with her mum, and held a sobbing George to her shoulder as McGonagall had done for her, she did it with the knowledge that happiness would come again, no matter how dismal things were now. She and Harry had love on their side, and no one—not Death Eaters, Dark Lords, nosy reporters, or even over-zealous siblings—could take that away from them.

Late that night Ginny joined Hermione in the girl’s dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. They talked for a few minutes, first about Hermione’s love for Ron and then about Ginny’s love for Harry, but eventually Hermione’s chatter changed into soft breathing and Ginny was left with naught but her own exhaustion for company. Before she joined Hermione in Dreamland, however, she found herself pondering the cost of the war again.

Maybe, she thought, just maybe it’s worth it if it means we can still have love.

_____________________________________________


Narcissa waited in the shadow of a stunted yew. The day was overcast and windy; she hoped that it would not rain, at least not until she was safely back indoors. She could not explain why she was here, even to herself, but something -- curiosity, maybe, or perhaps her long-lost empathy -- had compelled her to come. She doubted she would be welcomed, however, so she made sure to stay hidden. She wished she still had her wand. A Disillusionment charm would have been handy, but there was no helping that now. The Aurors had made sure that the Malfoys had no access to magic.

In the distance her sister -- and it was strange to think that Andromeda was now her only sister -- stood at the foot of two open graves, clutching an infant tightly. Narcissa could hear the boy’s cries all the way over here; he seemed to know that they were there to lay his parents to rest. Harry Potter, the Chosen-Boy-Who-Still-Lived, was off to the side with his head bowed in grief. The Muggle-born girl -- Narcissa was careful to never say “Mudblood� now, not even in her thoughts -- had a hand on his arm. The entire Weasley clan stood around them.

Well, the Weasley clan minus one. The paper had announced that his funeral was tomorrow.

Narcissa could see Andromeda’s shoulders shaking with sobs. Proper witches were to remain upright and stoic, even in the face of great trial; weeping, at least in public, was supposed to be beneath them. But Narcissa considered how she would feel if this were Draco’s funeral, and she had to admit that she would probably be in much worse shape than her sister.

She had been willing to betray everything to keep her son safe. She wondered if Andromeda would have done the same for her daughter.

Narcissa had never understood her sister. Andromeda had always been headstrong; she and their parents had clashed all through her childhood. Bellatrix had followed their parents’ chosen path and married Rodolphus, and when Narcissa’s time had come she had married Lucius without complaint. It didn’t matter that she didn’t love him. Feelings might come in time, her mother had told her. (Her mother had been right.) What mattered was that Lucius was a handsome pureblood, and that together they would produce pureblood children.

But Andromeda had absolutely refused to consider an arranged marriage. Even at sixteen she was determined to marry Ted Tonks, that ridiculous Muggle-born fool, and she had ostracized herself from the rest of the family when they refused to accept her decision. When they went their separate ways Narcissa had missed her, but not enough to make contact and risk her family’s displeasure. Andromeda had followed her own path, and there was no going back.

Now Andromeda’s husband was gone. So were her daughter and werewolf son-in-law. (She still didn’t understand why Andromeda had allowed a werewolf into the family, but after all, this was Andromeda. Her choices had never made any sense.) Andromeda was alone now except for an infant, but she had the respect of the Wizarding world and an army of friends to help her. Narcissa’s family was intact, but they were disgraced, despised by the very people they had once commanded. She wasn’t sure which would be the worse potion to swallow in the long run.

The coffins were covered with earth now, and the mourners were breaking apart into smaller groups. Narcissa stayed hidden and waited for them to leave. She didn’t think she could bear it if they knew she was here, especially Potter. She had lied on his behalf out of necessity, but that would never mean she liked him. It was his fault that Lucius had gone to Azkaban. It was his fault the Dark Lord had tasked Draco with such an impossible mission, a mission that was designed to get her son killed.

Potter had promised to make sure her family was protected from attackers and treated fairly by the courts. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

No one seemed keen to leave Andromeda alone; everyone had to speak to her, to offer condolences or fawn over the baby. Narcissa remembered those reactions; everyone had done the same to her after the death of her mother. Draco had been a newborn then.

Andromeda’s family had been told not to come.

The wind was wicked today. There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, but Narcissa waited patiently. She still did not know why she had come, but since she was here now she wanted to speak to Andromeda. It might be the last time she had the opportunity. There was no telling what her future held; the new Ministry was still organizing itself, but it was probably a matter of days -- maybe even hours -- until Magical Law Enforcement got their act together and came for her family. Narcissa knew that she, Lucius, and Draco would have already left the country if they had still owned wands. As it was, they would have to face the consequences of their actions. It was not something she looked forward to. Her greatest relief was that the new regime would be reluctant to have dementors at Azkaban.

At long last, Potter and the Weasleys departed. Andromeda was alone but for the baby. She had probably asked everyone else to leave.

Narcissa felt the first drops of rain begin to fall. Steeling herself for whatever might come, she left the yew tree and approached her sister with the wind roaring in her ears.

Andromeda did not notice her until she was standing next to the fresh graves. Her eyes widened a bit, but she made no comment upon seeing Narcissa there.

Perhaps this would go well after all.

“Hello, ‘Dromeda,� Narcissa said softly.

They stood in silence for a moment, both contemplating the twin headstones. Andromeda rocked her grandson silently, her face a mask; only the tears on her cheeks revealed her inner turmoil. The wind whipped their robes to and fro, oblivious to their discomfort.

“You haven’t been arrested yet?� Andromeda finally asked.

“Not yet. But I suppose it’s only a matter of time.� Narcissa offered no further explanation; none was needed.

Scattered drops of rain fell around them; one of them fell on the baby’s face, and Andromeda wiped it off with her sleeve. “What are you doing here, Cissy?� she asked wearily.

What was she doing here? She still didn’t know.

“If this was Draco’s funeral,� she finally said, “I think I would want my sister beside me.�

“I stopped being your sister years ago,� Andromeda scoffed. “You haven’t claimed me as a relative since I married Ted.�

Narcissa hesitated. Could she even admit this out loud?

“I never liked the way things ended between us,� she said in a rush.

“Really,� Andromeda answered. Her voice was utterly emotionless.

“I missed you. Even Bella --�

“Don’t even mention her in front of me,� Andromeda hissed, glaring at Narcissa.

“You may not like who she became, but surely you still remember the little girl you loved,� Narcissa said reprovingly. “Azkaban ruined her.�

“Bellatrix was ruined long before Azkaban,� Andromeda said angrily. “Or did you forget why she was sent there? Did you forget the pet puffskeins she tortured even as a child?� She took a shuddering breath. “Bellatrix murdered my daughter. She sought out her own flesh and blood, made my grandson an orphan, and did it with a laugh. I would happily kill her a thousand times if I could.�

Narcissa’s breath caught in her throat. “Bellatrix did this?� she choked.

“Yes,� Andromeda whispered, her face pursed in hatred. “So you will forgive me for cursing her memory.�

Narcissa felt as if she had received a physical blow. She had known Bellatrix was unhinged and dangerous and that she had wanted her niece dead, but she had never believed Bella would actually go so far as to deliver the killing blow.

“How did you not know that already?� Andromeda asked scathingly. “You were there.�

That was an easy question. “I wasn’t paying attention to anything but finding my son.�

“Finally figured out your master cared nothing for him, did you?�

Narcissa felt a warm flush creeping up her neck. “I’ve known that since Lucius went to Azkaban.�

Andromeda did not reply, and the wind howled on.

Had Bella really been as cruel as Andromeda remembered? Would she really laugh while she cut down her own flesh and blood? As if from a dream, she remembered a conversation from months ago….

“Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time…. You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the rest.�

To which Bella had replied, “Yes, my Lord…. At the first chance!�

Narcissa felt as though she had been plunged into ice. She knew that loved ones often saw each other through rose-tinted glasses, but now the glasses had been removed, and Andromeda was right. Bella had killed for the fun of it. She would have murdered Nymphadora Tonks at the first opportunity, and she would have believed she was doing the world a favor.

Narcissa choked back a sob. It was painful to realize that she loved a monster.

“It’s hardly fair, you know,� Andromeda said suddenly. “How is it that you and Lucius manage to worm your way out of everything?� Her voice was rising angrily. “You tortured Muggles and murdered good people and did who knows what else, and yet you are able to walk away untouched! Your brat is alive and well, and my daughter is -- is --�

Andromeda’s face screwed up and she was sobbing outright, shoulders hunched against the pain. Narcissa bit back a scathing reply and instead reached out and placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. She was relieved when Andromeda did not turn away.

“You say we’re untouched, but you have no idea,� Narcissa said when Andromeda’s crying ceased. “You have no idea whatsoever. Even before the Dark Lord returned, I lived in fear that Lucius would do something awful that would break our family apart. I can’t even remember the last time I was not terrified.�

Andromeda looked her in the eye. “Neither can I,� she said softly. “But be glad, Narcissa. You may rot in Azkaban, but your son is alive.� She gestured to the graves. “I don’t think I would wish this on anyone, not even you.�

The baby stirred fretfully, and Andromeda made soothing noises to shush him. Narcissa looked down at the graves once more while her sister rocked the baby to and fro. For a moment she felt a deep pang of regret that she would never know this boy’s mother, but she abruptly pushed it aside. It was far too late to dwell on that.

She had enough regrets as it was.

Andromeda used a free hand to wipe her eyes. “How did we get here, Cissy?� she whispered, voice shaking.

“You made your choices, and I made mine. But you should know,� Narcissa said, “I - I never wanted this.�

“Maybe this would not have happened if you had ever thought for yourself. What choices did you ever make on your own?� Andromeda asked. “You let our parents decide on everything, and then when you married Lucius he took over from them. You never made up your own mind about anything, Narcissa, and look where it’s got you.�

Narcissa could find nothing to say. Was Andromeda right?

Almost. The only times she had developed a backbone were those when she had tried to save her son.

“I’m a widow and a grieving mother,� Andromeda whispered. She shook her head sadly. “But I would still rather have my life than yours. At least I have actually lived.�

She abruptly turned around and stalked toward the church. Narcissa knew that stance, and realized that it would do no good to follow. Their meeting was over.

She stared at the graves again… two young people who had risked everything to topple the people like her from their pedestals. Two people who had embraced the little time left to them and made a child, just to leave it behind. It was too much to think about. It was time to leave.

“Bolly?� she said quietly.

CRACK! A house-elf in a pillowcase appeared next to her. “Miss is ready to go home now?� he asked squeakily, shivering in the wind.

“Yes….�

Narcissa watched her sister’s retreating back sadly. She doubted there would be any more encounters in the future. As was usual, Andromeda had chosen her path… and Narcissa could not follow.

She dashed the tears from her eyes. She was years too late to follow Andromeda anywhere.

“Goodbye, ‘Dromeda,� she whispered.

She grabbed onto the hand Bolly offered, and they disappeared together just as the rain began to fall in earnest.