Light flickered into the room from the partially opened curtain, causing Andromeda to wake. Groaning loudly, she pulled the blankets over her head, refusing to get up. So what if it was Christmas morning? What did holidays mean to someone like her?

If not for her tiny grandson, she would’ve ignored the holiday altogether, but she couldn’t do that to him. Teddy deserved better than that. Already he was forced to grow-up without parents. She couldn’t take anything else away from him. Teddy would have a Christmas, even if it meant she would be forced to have a Christmas as well.

She still wanted to go back to sleep, stay hidden under her blankets. She could pretend that it wasn’t Christmas, at all. She wouldn’t think about her daughter, her husband, or anyone else she’d once loved. But she couldn’t do that. She had to get up. She had to get Teddy ready for his first Christmas.

The floor felt like ice, but she didn’t bother to warm it. Her feet might as well be as cold as her heart.

Slipping into Teddy’s room, which had once belonged to his mother, she watched the tiny baby sleep. His hair was currently purple. He really took after his mother. As she watched, he moved his head slightly, never opening his eyes.

She considered leaving him there, going back to bed. What was one Christmas? He’d be too young to remember anyway. Besides, he looked so warm and happy where he was. It was almost cruel to wake him. They could always start celebrating Christmas the next year, when her own heart had healed a little more from her loss.

Her mind was desperately trying to find an escape from festivities she wasn’t up for, but she couldn’t bail. She’d promised Harry she and Teddy would spend Christmas with him. He’d be crushed if he didn’t get to see his godson. He and Ginny probably had their tiny home jammed full of presents for little Teddy to play with. They really did spoil him.

She could always have Harry pick Teddy up, avoiding the celebrations herself, but just the thought of that made her ill. She hated being parted from Teddy. When Harry took him for a few hours, she sat by the window, hardly breathing until the baby was back in her care. Teddy was all she had left. She couldn’t bare the thought of losing him, even for a short time.

She reached into the crib, causing her grandson to awaken. He didn’t cry. He rarely did. Instead, he looked up at her with curious eyes. So much like his mother. To him, the world was an adventure—a mystery waiting to be solved—everything was new and exciting. He was still too young to realize all that he’d lost. She was grateful for that.

With a quick flip of her wand, the infant was dressed in a tiny suit, fitting for a party. He looked adorable. When she held him away from her body for closer examination, she saw that his hair had changed to a shade of green, and he was smiling up at her. She smiled back.

“We’re going to your godfather’s,� she told him. “You’ll like that. There will be lots of toys for you. All sorts of decorations and new smells.�

Teddy’s smile widened, almost as if he’d understood her. Sometimes she thought he could understand. Maybe he was advanced for his age. Bella had always been smart for her age; it was in his genes.

At the thought of her elder sister, a shiver passed through her. Teddy felt it and stopped smiling.

“It’s okay,� Andromeda told him, cuddling the baby close. “Grandma was just thinking about a monster, but today isn’t about monsters. Today is about…� she stopped short. What was it about? She realized she had no idea.

She didn’t find that troubling. Christmas probably had no real meaning anyway. It was just an excuse to stick a bunch of family members in one room. The holiday had probably been created thousands of years ago to decrease the population. It was surprising she'd survived as many Black Family Christmases as she had.

Teddy squirmed in her arms, causing her to refocus.

“You’re right,� she told him. “We need to get going. We don’t want to worry Harry.�

Harry was almost as protective of Teddy as she was. After a war, it seemed like everyone’s protective hormones go into overdrive. She assumed they’d settle into a normal life—eventually.

In her arms, Teddy cooed contently as she approached the fireplace. He was used to the Floo Network, using it frequently to get between her home and Harry’s. At first, he seemed to think it was the most exciting thing in the world, reaching out towards the bright colors. Now, it was just something mundane, part of his life. That was the way with everything. Nothing stayed shiny and new forever.

Teddy rested his head against her shoulders as the colors swirled by. He didn’t show any interest until they were standing in Harry’s living room. Then his eyes filled with wonder as he looked around the room. Sparkling lights danced around the room, and Teddy reached for them, trying to catch them.

Harry and Ginny had spared nothing decorating. A huge tree filled most of the room, covered in twinkling lights. The tree was decorated the Muggle way, just like Ted always insisted at their house. But that year Ted hadn’t been there, and Andromeda chose not to decorate at all. Watching Teddy, trying to catch the magical, dancing lights, she regretted it. He would’ve enjoyed the lights at home, as well.

Suddenly she felt like crying. She wanted to give her grandson a full life, wanted him to have everything he would’ve had with his parents, but she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t capable of it. There was too much anger and grief inside her. She’d been so busy missing her daughter and husband, hating her sister; she hadn’t even managed to give little Teddy Christmas lights to play with.

“You made it,� Harry said, cheerfully, bursting into the room. He was dressed in a large Christmas sweater, most likely a gift from Molly Weasley. She remembered some of the presents the woman had given Dora.

Harry swooped Teddy into his arms and swung him around the room. Teddy giggled, grabbing at Harry’s uncombed hair.

Sitting down with the baby, Harry looked back at Andromeda. She still hadn’t moved from her place by the fireplace. Her eyes watered, but she managed to contain her tears. There was no point in crying. Tears wouldn’t fix her family. Nothing could do that.

“Are you all right?� Harry asked.

She nodded, forcing herself to enter the cheerful room. Taking a seat beside Harry, she managed a weak smile. “Thanks for having us.�

Harry waved his arms. “You’re always welcome here. Besides, I’m sure your house felt a bit—empty.�

Her house felt like a morgue, but she didn’t tell him that. What would be the point? He knew what she’d lost. He had lost a great deal in the war as well. Hashing over their loss on Christmas Day was not going to help anything. She simply nodded.

Her unspoken words seemed to be understood. Harry did not mention her lost family members again.

“Ginny’s been in the kitchen all morning,� he went on. “She won’t let me near it. She wants to cook a Christmas meal just the way her mother does. I wanted to remind her we could’ve just gone to her mother’s, but was afraid she’d throw a rolling pin at me.�

Andromeda smiled. She hadn’t known Ginny that long, but the girl seemed to have a stubborn streak. Her attitude reminded Andromeda of her own daughter. Of course, many things reminded her of Dora.

“Anyway, I think she’s about done,� he continued, stroking Teddy’s blue hair. “So we’re going to have to eat before I can show this little guy his presents.�

“We’re just lucky he’s too young to put up a fuss,� Andromeda replied, remembering how Dora would scream for her parents to hurry up Christmas morning, always so anxious to tear into her gifts.

Before Harry could reply, Ginny appeared to usher them into the kitchen. She didn’t even bother with a hello. Her hair was tied back, but had mostly fallen lose. She looked flushed and exhausted. In a few years, Andromeda was sure she’d be a proper chef, just like her mother.

They left Teddy in his playpen throughout the meal. Harry and Ginny had all the baby necessities so Teddy could spend time there. They were equipped to have him overnight, but she wasn’t ready to part with him for that long. Harry seemed to understand. At least, he never pushed her.

The meal was delicious, especially considering how exasperated Ginny had looked when she greeted them. Andromeda almost expected to find the kitchen in flames. Instead, she was met by an amazing dinner. Already, Ginny was nearly as good a cook as her mother. As she enjoyed the meal, Andromeda managed to forget her worries, which was a blessing.

When the table was cleared they returned to Teddy, who wasn’t at all ready for a bottle. Instead, he was still dazzled by the lights, watching them spin around the room.

As she watched her grandson, she was reminded of past Christmases.

She remembered being a little girl with her sisters. Their parents had never paid much attention to them on the big day; there was always a party or some social gathering. However, there were always lots of presents.

She could remember one year; she must’ve been seven. Bellatrix would’ve been nine and little Narcissa five. Their parents had taken off for a party at Malfoy Manor, leaving the girls with a house-elf. It was the first year Narcissa had been old enough to realize what she’d been missing. She cried for hours.

Finally, Bella bewitched their Christmas tree to sing carols. Narcissa had been so fascinated she’d forgotten all about being abandoned. After awhile, she and Bella forgot about it, too. That was probably one of their happiest Christmases.

Of course, that was back when Bella had been her sister. Before she changed. Before she became evil. It was also before Narcissa chose family values and beliefs over Andromeda. Back then, Andromeda still had sisters.

She shook her head, not wanting to think about that time. That was past. She didn’t have sisters anymore. One was a monster. A dead monster. The other was no more her family than the president of the United States. To Narcissa, she was dead. Had been for years. Remembering happy times with her sisters couldn’t bring them back. She didn’t even want to bring them back. At least, not Bella. Some things were unforgivable. But sometimes she still thought about little Cissy.

No, she thought to herself. This was foolishness. She couldn’t allow herself to think of them. They were gone. Not part of her life.

She tried to replace memories of her sisters with memories of her daughter. Thinking about Dora’s early Christmases. Remembering her smiling face and excited eyes. But she couldn’t think about it for very long. Tears came to her eyes, and they were hard to hold back.

“Ready to see your presents,� Harry asked Teddy, pulling him from the crib.

Watching them, she didn’t see Harry and Teddy. Instead, she saw Ted pulling Dora from her crib. Desperately, she wanted that to be real. She’d give anything to do it over, to hold her daughter one last time. Kiss her husband goodbye. Of course, that was impossible. Again, tears threatened to flow over.

“Andromeda?� Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, balancing Teddy with the other. “Are you okay?�

“I can’t stop thinking about Dora,� she blurted out. Her words sounded foolish to her ears. She wasn’t used to expressing her feelings. She felt weak and ashamed.

“Of course,� Harry told her. “Is there anything I can do?�

She looked at her grandson, now staring at the tree, totally mesmerized. Little Teddy was oblivious to her pain. She was grateful for that. He was happy, having fun, discovering the magic of Christmas.

She couldn’t control herself. She had to get away before she broke down in tears, but Teddy didn’t need to see that. When he was older, he would mourn his parents and grandfather in his own way. But on that Christmas Day, she didn’t need to inflict her pain on him.

As much as it pained her, she knew he’d have a better Christmas with Harry. It would only be for a few hours. She’d been without him that long before. She could use the time to pull herself together.

“Take care of Teddy,� she told Harry. “Make sure his first Christmas is special. I just need to go home, be alone.�

“Are you sure?� Harry asked, knowing how she hated to be parted from Teddy.

She nodded. “Just don’t keep him too long.�

“Of course.�

With that, she kissed her grandson goodbye and disappeared through the fireplace as quickly as possible. She didn’t want Harry to see the tears spilling from her eyes. She didn’t have much left, but her pride was still intact.

She collapsed through her own fireplace and fell on the sofa. For the first time, she let her grief—all of it—fully consume her. She sobbed for everything she’d lost. She sobbed for the sisters who had left her life. She sobbed for her husband, taken by people who had once been her friends. She sobbed for her daughter, dead at the hand of her own sister.

For a long time, she continued like that, unable to stop. She slammed her hands against the sofa, cursing everything she could think of. It wasn’t fair. Why should she lose everything? And what did this mean for her tiny, defenseless grandson? Would he too meet a horrible end simply because she loved him?

Finally the tears stopped coming. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, wallowing in self-pity. She was lucky Harry had Teddy. The last thing her grandson needed to see was her having a breakdown. She was the only parent he had. She needed to be strong for him.

Wiping her eyes, she sat up, trying to regain her composure. Foolishness, that’s what it was. There was no point bawling over things she couldn’t change. Crying about her family wouldn’t bring them back. Teddy was all she had now. All of her energy had to be focused on him. That’s what Dora would’ve wanted. That’s what Ted would’ve wanted. And as far as her sisters were concerned, she’d be better off never doing what they would’ve wanted.

She sat up straight. Teddy would probably be home soon. Harry would never keep him for long, especially when he knew she was upset. He understood how much Teddy meant to her.

She raised her wand to zap the redness from her eyes when she spotted a piece of folded parchment on her inn table. Had someone come by while she’d been out? Harry was the only one who ever visited her and she’d been with him.

Reluctantly, she picked up the note. The paper was heavy, clearly expensive. Her curiosity was perked. When she unfolded the letter, she gasped.

Merry Christmas, my sister.

Love, Cissy.

Fresh tears came to her eyes. Again, she pictured Teddy amazed by Harry’s enchanted lights. And she realized she was feeling the same sense of joy and wonderment as she held onto a simple Christmas greeting from her sister. Maybe Christmas still held some miracles even for someone as lost as her.

After all these years, she knew Narcissa missed her, too. They’d probably never be close again. They might never speak again. But somehow, just knowing that Narcissa still thought of her as sister was enough. That simple knowledge filled her with a glowing sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe there was still hope for her. And hope for her family.