The baby was asleep in her arms and the house was quiet—too quiet. The soundless house made her uncomfortable. For a few moments, she feared she’d gone deaf, but little Teddy sighed to reassure her. She simply wasn’t used to silence. Ted wasn’t a silent man. He was always pounding away at something. But Ted was gone. He’d never make another sound in their home.
For the last little while, she’d grown accustomed to the sounds of her daughter moving about the house. Having Dora home had been a great comfort to her. Being able to hold her child when her husband was gone was a gift. She’d always be grateful Dora had come home when she did.
However, that night Dora was gone. Gone with her husband into a battle and she didn’t know why. Dora wasn’t supposed to go that night. Remus made her promise that she wouldn’t. He wanted to ensure that one of them was there to take care of Teddy. Dora seemed to understand that. She didn’t argue. Not once.
As the evening went on, Dora had become restless. She paced around the room, disturbing Teddy in her arms. Andromeda had watched her. Silently praying that her daughter would not leave the house.
Her prayers were not answered.
“I have to go,” she said, at last.
“Dora, no,” Andromeda pleaded. “Stay. Your son needs you. I need you. Please.”
“My husband needs me,” she insisted, grabbing a light coat. “I can feel it, Mom. Something’s wrong. I have to get to him.”
“Remus wanted you to stay here,” Andromeda reminded her, but she knew it was useless. Dora’s hair had turned a shade of bright red, and her eyes glinted with determination. When Dora looked like that there was no reasoning with her. She’d made up her mind, and nothing could change it.
“I love you, Mom,” she said, stopping beside the door. “I know you want me here. I know Teddy needs me. You have each other. Remus is alone. We’ll be back. I promise.”
With those words, her daughter was gone. The door closed loudly behind her. Andromeda was left with silence and fear. Clinging to her sleeping grandson, she tried not to cry.
Teddy slept peacefully. He was used to his grandmother’s arms, and had no idea that anything was wrong. He didn’t know that his parents were risking their lives. He didn’t know that an evil man could take over the entire wizarding world that night. To him, everything was normal and safe. Andromeda was terribly jealous of the oblivious infant.
Her own thoughts were filled with horrible possibilities. She wouldn’t let her mind finish a single thought. She couldn’t picture the terrible things she dreamed of. Wouldn’t let herself face the worst scenarios.
Rocking the baby back and forth, she began to talk to him.
“Everything will be okay,” she said. “They’ll come home. Your mom is always putting herself in dangerous positions. She always comes back. And now she has you, all the more reason to fight. She’ll be back.”
Andromeda rambled like that long into the night. The sleeping child wasn’t aware of her babbling.
As the night darkened her prattling began to subside. Desperately, she tried to remember when her daughter had left. How long had she been gone? Shouldn’t she be back? How long would a battle like this take?
Unable to sit still any longer, she lowered Teddy into his crib and began to pace the room. Her footsteps broke the silence, and somehow that offered her a small amount of comfort. As her mind raced, she even imagined that the footsteps belonged to Dora. For a few minutes, she could even convince herself that Dora was upstairs.
She paced faster. Her mind was spinning. She was no longer having coherent thoughts. Her fear had taken over completely. All her mind could focus on was tiny, senseless flashes.
Ted taking Dora to the playground.
Blood spattering a stone wall.
Dora dancing with Remus on their wedding night.
Blood falling to the ground.
She was certain that she was going mad. Fear had devoured her brain, leaving her nothing. When Dora came home she’d find her mother huddled on the floor. She’d be locked away in St. Mungos. Maybe she’d share a room with the Longbottoms.
The baby whimpered, but she didn’t go to him. His cries sounded distant and even unimportant. In her mind, nothing seemed important anymore. Nothing was real. Only the fear existed.
Finally, a sound pulled her out of her disconnected thoughts. A knock at the door. That single noise brought her back to normal thinking. There was news. Someone was coming to tell her something.
She rushed towards the door, but stopped dead in front of it. Again, she was surrounded by fear. Dora wouldn’t knock. This was her home. If Dora had come back, she’d come in. Why would anyone else come to the house that night? Unless…
Shaking her head, she forced her hand to reach towards the door. Standing there scaring herself wasn’t going to help. She’d spent the whole night doing that. It was time to open the door—face whatever was coming. She couldn’t hide from it.
Pulling back the door, she saw the grim face of Kingsley Shacklebolt staring back at her. There were no signs of comfort there. A single tear fell down his cheek. Even the tiniest glimmer of hope left her. It was over.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The war is over. We won, but Tonks isn’t coming home. She and Remus were both killed. I’m truly sorry.”
A cry escaped from Andromeda, but she didn’t even realize the sound came from her. She fell, but Kingsley grabbed her before she reached the ground. Tears streamed down her face.
Her baby. Her baby was gone.
Kingsley carried her to the sofa, lying her down gently. She didn’t feel his touch or know where she was. She only knew that her baby was gone.
“You’ll be okay,” Kingsley whispered to her. “Close your eyes. You need to sleep. I’ll stay here. You’ll be okay. Teddy will be okay. Just sleep.”
His strong voice penetrated her grief, and somehow she believed him. She closed her eyes, immediately drifting away. Once again, she was surrounded by silence.