Only a few days ago the darkest wizard of the age had been defeated. The wizarding world was still celebrating his demise. Every time she dared to leave her home, she was greeted by smiling faces. Ignorant faces. The faces of people who had lost nothing and gained everything. The people celebrating weren’t the people who’d fought. They were people who didn’t understand what had been sacrificed. She hated them all.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she stared out the window into the bright sunlight. Outside, everything was bright and happy. Inside, it was dark and dreary, showing her true mood.
She could hear Teddy cooing down the hall, but didn’t bother to go to him. He wasn’t crying, for once. The first day he’d been fine. He was used to his grandmother and comfortable in her arms. After that, he wanted his parents. He didn’t know where they were, and she couldn’t tell him that they were never coming back. She couldn’t explain death to an infant. She couldn’t even explain it to herself.
Sighing, she looked away from the window. The brightness only made her mood bleaker. What right did the sun have to shine on the day her daughter would be put in the ground? The weather should have been dark and rainy. The weather should’ve mourned Dora the way Andromeda did.
Moving towards the mirror, she glanced at her reflection. She looked more like Bellatrix every day. The thought did nothing to sooth her mind. Andromeda didn’t know who had killed her daughter, but if it wasn’t her sister, it might as well have been. Bellatrix served nothing but the Dark Lord. There was nothing of her sister left in that shell when it finally died.
Andromeda didn’t want to be like her sister, but each day she looked harder. Even her eyes seemed to grow cold. She hated it.
She hated everything.
A knock on the door pulled her mind back into focus. She ran a brush through her hair, peered at her long black gown one last time, and then hurried towards the door. She’d had nothing but visitors for the last few days, and really didn’t want anymore. However, the manners instilled in her as a child remained. She couldn’t ignore a knock at the door anymore than she could ignore the torture curse.
Pulling the door back, her eyes landed on Kingsley. She hadn’t seen him since the night of her daughter’s death, and his presence caused an eerie sense of déjà vu. Her stomach churned, but she ignored it. It wasn’t Kingsley’s fault he’d been the one to tell her. He’d been very kind, taking care of her and Teddy through the night.
He was dressed in fine robes, looking perfectly somber. His appearance was ideal for a funeral. It was clear he had taken great care with his appearance out of respect for Dora. His effort meant a lot to her.
“I thought you might need a friend today,” he said, his voice gentle and even. “I could accompany you to the church, if you’d like. You shouldn’t be alone.”
She hadn’t thought of that. With Ted and Dora gone, she expected to be doing just about everything alone. The offer warmed her slightly, even her personal abyss of darkness.
“Thank you,” she replied, accepting his extended hand. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Of course,” he said. “Your daughter was a great friend to me. She was very special and will be greatly missed.”
The words were clichéd, and she’d heard them before from Order Members and Aurors. She’d been annoyed each time, but somehow coming from Kingsley, she felt different about them. They sounded more sincere.
“Shall we go?” he asked, inching towards the door. There was a certain amount of uncertainty in his manner. He was uncomfortable”unsure what to do. Like everyone else, he was at a loss. Death had a way of doing that to people. Even the strongest of them.
“I just need to get Teddy,” she said, pulling her hand away and stepping back.
“You’re bringing him?” Kingsley asked, raising his eyebrow slightly.
Andromeda nodded, not at all put out by his reaction. “I do hope he won’t fuss,” she said, “but he needs to be there. He has more right to be there than anyone else. Today he loses both of his parents. I want him to be surrounded by people who loved them, not alone with a random sitter.”
A small smile came to his face, and he nodded. Any trace of skepticism was gone from his face. She knew he understood. He probably even understood the part she didn’t tell him. The fact that she simply didn’t want to be away from Teddy on this day. He was the only family she had left, and she wanted him by her side as she said goodbye to her only child.
Leaving Kingsley alone in the foyer, she rushed up the stairs to retrieve her grandson. She found him in his crib, curled into a little ball. His hair was flashing colors. That seemed to be a sign that he was upset. It had been flashes like that since he realized his parents weren’t coming home.
She lifted the tiny baby into her arms. No matter how many times she held him, she couldn’t get over how light he was. Looking back, she could still remember when Dora had been his size. So fragile and innocent. Back then it had been so easy to protect her from the dangers of the world.
Tears began to spill down her cheeks. Little Teddy reached towards them. Wiping them away, almost as if he were trying to comfort her. Despite her misery, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Thanks, Teddy,” she told him. “Are you ready to go? It’s going to be a hard today. We’ve got to say goodbye to your parents today.”
He stared up at her with his big eyes. Of course, he didn’t understand a word she said, but he knew that she was sad. He knew his parents were gone. Even at his young age, he probably grasped the situation around him as well as any adult. Andromeda wished she could shield him from that kind of loss.
Holding him tightly in her arms, she headed back downstairs. Kingsley remained exactly where she left him. His eyes had been focused on some childhood pictures of Dora, but he quickly looked away as she approached. He was probably trying to spare her from explaining the photos, and talking about happy memories with her daughter.
Happy memories were hard to face when there would be no more.
“We’re ready,” Andromeda told him, her voice shaking slightly. She was lying, of course. No mother was ever ready to bury her child. No child was ever ready to bury his parents. However, they were as ready as they could be.
Kingsley said nothing. He simply wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her into the sunlit day. She didn’t tell him, but his comforting touch was the only thing that kept her from running into the house and hiding under the bed.
Turning the Page by Sly Severus
Chapter Notes: A special thank you to MithrilQuill for betaing this chapter, and for listening to me freak out about my poor, sick computer.