8 June 1998

Molly blinked slowly, opening her eyes, which felt raw and dry. It took her a moment to amass her surroundings; her head was spinning slightly. The sky outside the bedroom window was a cool, early-evening blue, which told Molly that she had somehow slept through both breakfast and lunch. Molly glanced at the little tear-away calendar on her bedside table and realized with a small, painful twinge that it had been exactly a month now since she had last had three square meals in a day.

Molly stared at the little calendar, swallowing. She hadn't even been ripping out the dates herself; she supposed Arthur had been doing it, each morning before work. Life at the Burrow was moving along around her. Arthur and Percy were going to the Ministry every day. Bill and Fleur dropped by most evenings on their way home from Gringotts. Charlie was writing daily letters from Romania. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were spearheading the rebuilding efforts at Hogwarts. Ginny was keeping herself busy at the Burrow, tending to the garden, cleaning, and cooking. And even George—whom the family was lucky to catch a glimpse of, these days—was occupying himself with the joke shop; he had yet to set foot in the actual Diagon Alley premises, but according to Ron, he was managing—for the time being—to successfully run the business as an Owl-order service.

In the six days between the Battle and Fred's funeral, Molly too had managed to keep everything under control. She had kept active, tidying up the Burrow—which had been left in a sorry state, after the Death Eaters had come calling around Easter—cooking for her family, and making arrangements for the funeral service. But in the month that had elapsed since she had laid her son to rest, the numb, defeating exhaustion that had been gnawing at her since the second of May had finally taken over. She had run out of things to do, had run out of distractions, things to take care of—her children were all taking care of themselves. They wanted to give her time, space to grieve…but in doing so, they had taken away Molly's fight, taken away her practical, problem-solving side…and she had, at last, succumbed to the painful, suffocating, endless weariness…

Molly rubbed her chest in a futile attempt to lessen the dull ache within. Then, sniffing, she closed her eyes and curled tightly into her quilts. She was much too tired to wait up for dinner, she decided. She would sleep until the morning, and then see about managing a trip down to the kitchen for breakfast—

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door.

Molly froze, holding her breath. It was Ginny, she knew, bearing tea and supper on a tray. Pressing her lips together, Molly squeezed her eyes shut more tightly.

There came another knock.

"Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly opened her eyes, startled. That wasn't her daughter's voice. That was—

"Harry?" she asked hoarsely; her throat was dry from lack of use.

"May I come in, Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly hesitated.

"I…I'm not feeling very hungry, Harry, dear."

"I know, Mrs. Weasley," Harry's voice was very gentle—too gentle—and Molly felt a stab of mingled shame and frustration, "But there's someone here to see you."

Molly's eyes widened. Someone to see her…her mind immediately jumped to a Healer, dressed in crisp, lime green robes, clipboard in hand, ready to diagnose her. Did her family really believe that she was in such bad shape that she required medical assistance?

"Molly, may please I come in?"

Molly inhaled sharply. That was a different voice—a voice she had not expected to hear in the slightest.

"Andromeda?"

"Yes, it is I. I would really like to see you, Molly."

Molly closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, biting back her irritation; even Andromeda was coddling her.

She remained quiet for several moments, thinking quickly. Then, at last, she made up her mind and cleared her throat. "Come in," she called.

There was a soft murmur, the sound of retreating footsteps, and then a click, as the bedroom door swung open. Molly's jaw went slack. A tall, dark-haired woman stood in the door frame, a shawl draped loosely around her shoulders. And in her arms, she held—

"Teddy," Molly gasped, as Andromeda glided slowly into the room and settled down at the edge of Molly's bed, gently placing the squirmy bundle of white blankets atop the quilts between them.

Molly gazed down at the chubby, pink-faced baby, who was blinking sleepily back up at her with large, inquisitive eyes. A lump formed in her throat. Tenderly, she reached out and brushed the baby's fist; immediately, five little fingertips closed around her thumb.

"He looks just like Remus," Molly said softly, taking in the soft chin and shapely nose, so familiar.

Andromeda nodded, smiling slightly. "He's his father's handsome boy."

Suddenly, Teddy's sandy brown hair turned a vivid red, precisely the same shade as Molly's, and she let out a strangled laugh, covering her mouth with her hand and blinking rapidly. "He's got his mother's personality, though."

Andromeda chuckled softly, cupping a hand around the baby's peachfuzz gingery head. "He has her eyes, too," she said quietly.

Molly looked once more into Teddy Lupin's wide-eyed, curious gaze, and felt her breath catch in her throat. There was no mistaking Tonks's eyes—dark gray, twinkling with mischief. Molly blinked and Tonks's grinning face flashed across her mind, filled with youthful excitement and confidence…warm, fierce compassion…

"Sometimes, he's the only reason I can get out of bed in the morning."

Molly snapped her gaze back onto Andromeda, who was now staring out the bedroom window with an unreadable expression. Molly watched her profile silently. From the side, Andromeda's striking resemblance to her elder sister was accentuated—the heavy-lidded eyes and high cheekbones became more pronounced, adding to her stoic, regal bearing. But the differences, too, were just as marked. Andromeda's hair was a much lighter brown, touched gently with gray, and her gray eyes were wider, softer than Bellatrix's…and they were filled with a harrowing pain, a sense of profound loss that Bellatrix would never, ever have been capable of.

And quite suddenly, Molly was inexplicably overwhelmed with emotion. Because Molly, who was surrounded by her family, couldn't imagine how Andromeda had survived the past month alone in her home, haunted by the memories of those who had once lived there with her.

A knot of guilt twisted in the pit of Molly's stomach. Swallowing heavily, she began, "Andromeda—"

"No," Andromeda interrupted at once. "I…it wasn't my intention to garner sympathy." She paused for a moment, and then turned and looked Molly straight in the eye. "Harry has been a huge comfort to me."

A warm, fierce rush of affection welled up in Molly, catching her unawares. It felt strange—and yet so, so good—to be filled so unexpectedly with such powerful, heartfelt feeling.

"I'll admit—I was unwilling, at first, to allow him very much time with Teddy," Andromeda continued softly, gently brushing a few tufts of red hair away from Teddy's forehead. "But Harry was so patient, so understanding…"

Molly's throat swelled shut; she didn't trust herself to speak normally. "My sweet boy," she whispered.

Andromeda smiled at her. "He cares about you, you know—just as much as you care about him."

Molly blinked, several times. Andromeda, however, didn't seem to expect an answer. Rather, she turned away and looked out the window again.

"Kingsley waited until a week after the funeral to tell me who…did it," she said quietly. "I think he thought it might soften the blow if he gave it some time." She paused, and her jaw clenched. "It didn't."

Molly's eyes filled with tears, but she managed to fight back the anguished sob that was burning the inside of her throat. Bellatrix's evil, twisted face appeared in her mind's eye, snarling, cackling, smirking… "What will happen to your children when I've killed you? When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"My own sister," Andromeda was murmuring now—her voice numb, as though she couldn't believe what she was saying. "My own sister—my daughter, Molly. Do you realize how sick—how despicable—?" she broke off, closing her eyes.

Molly took several deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain control of herself.

"And then, I heard about Narcissa," Andromeda said, in barely more than a whisper; a chill ran down Molly's spine. It was clear that Andromeda had been waiting to say these things aloud for a long time. "Two wars, she and her husband have fought on the wrong side—spreading their evil, bigoted beliefs—and then, the entire family gets away without a scratch."

Slowly, Andromeda turned away from the window and met Molly's gaze. And Molly saw, in her heavy, careworn eyes, everything that made Andromeda's grief worth sharing.

Molly didn't realize she was sobbing until Andromeda's arms were around her. She could feel her chest heaving with the effort to restrain her sorrow, her agony…but she couldn't, and suddenly, she was crying like she hadn't done since that dreadful May morning. All of the numb emptiness she had felt in the past month was disappearing, replaced with a raw, keening pain that was tearing at her from within—and yet, somehow, it made her feel better, it made her feel real—more alive than she had felt in four weeks—

"I miss them," Andromeda whispered, trembling with grief. "I miss them all so much."

Molly tightened her grip on Andromeda's shoulders. "I know," she said in a choked voice.

It felt like several, long years before Molly managed to stop crying, and not because she felt any happier—but because she had run out of tears to shed. Breathing heavily, Molly leaned back against her pillows and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms.

When, at last, she opened her eyes again, she found Andromeda still sitting cross-legged on the bed before her, cradling little Teddy in her lap, transfixed by his tiny face. He was dozing off, now, his hair reverting back to its natural brown…his face becoming distinctly more heart-shaped, his chin rounder, his nose more pointed…

Molly watched him, her heart constricting with emotion.

"When N-Nymphadora told me that she and Remus had gotten married, I was furious," Andromeda said quietly, not taking her eyes off of the baby. "I think it was the—worst fight we ever had. I only calmed down when Ted reminded me that he and I—we had done the same thing—a spontaneous marriage, without our parents' permission." She paused, gently rearranging Teddy's blankets. "And now…I don't think I've ever been more—grateful—" her voice broke, and she stopped talking, drawing a deep breath.

There was a small pause, as Molly stared down at her knees, clasping her hands together tightly, her nails digging into her knuckles. Then, she cleared her throat.

"When…when Fred and George left school to start their shop, the first thing I did was send them a Howler," she whispered. "They'd worked so hard, finally gotten a place in Diagon Alley, and the first letter they received was a screaming one from their mother," Molly's voice faltered slightly, but she braved on. "I'll never forget Fred's response. He was so angry with me—told me that he knew what he was doing, ordered me to stay out of their business…and now…" Molly trailed off, pressing her lips together. "Now, I'd give anything in the world to hear him yell those words at me."

Andromeda let out a strangled noise—somewhere between a laugh and a sob—and reached out and took Molly's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly.

Molly squeezed back, smiling—forcing her tight cheek muscles upwards.

There was a long, comfortable silence in the bedroom, as the two women sat together, listening to Teddy grunt and coo in his sleep. His hair was now flitting through colors every few minutes—green—blue—red—pink…it was oddly soothing to watch…

"They're worried about you, you know," Andromeda said quietly. Molly stiffened slightly and glanced up, meeting Andromeda's gaze. "They're worried, but they don't know what to do to help—because you're the one who's always done the fixing."

Molly closed her eyes, filled suddenly with a rush of remorse. She felt Andromeda squeeze her hand again and she opened her eyes, her chin trembling traitorously.

"You're a brave woman, Molly," Andromeda said softly. "Kingsley told me how…hard you fought at the Battle. Don't stop fighting now."

There was a fierce, burning moment as Molly and Andromeda stared at each other, and with a thrill of excitement, Molly felt a flicker of her old determination, her familiar resolve return to her.

With an enormous amount of effort, she pushed herself upright, and very, very slowly, she managed to swing her legs off the edge of the bed. Gingerly—and holding onto the bedpost for support—she climbed to her feet. Immediately, she felt lightheaded and she swayed alarmingly on the spot—but a gentle arm gripped the crook of her elbow, steadying her, and Molly looked around, smiling.

"Will you stay for dinner?" Molly asked, as the two women—Andromeda holding Teddy, and Molly clutching Andromeda's shoulder—made their way across the bedroom, out of the door, and onto the fourth floor landing. "I'm cooking."

Andromeda looked startled. "Molly, I—you shouldn't go to any trouble—"

"Nonsense," Molly said briskly, feeling suddenly and refreshingly more like herself than she had felt in weeks. "You're staying—and I'll whip up a bottle of milk for Teddy, whenever he wakes up from his nap."

Andromeda didn't respond, but Molly smiled, following the younger woman down the last few stairs and into the sitting room.

"Mummy?"

Molly felt a rush of overwhelming affection well up in her. Ginny, wearing Molly's apron and standing in the doorway that separated the sitting room from the kitchen, was gazing at her mother with a mixture of astonishment and delight. Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, both looked stunned. And Harry, sprawled out on the hearth, was beaming.

"Hello," Molly said warmly, her heart swelling at the sight of each and every single one of them. "I'll get started on dinner, shall I? Andromeda's staying, and Arthur and Percy should be back from the Ministry any minute now—and you must all be famished after being at Hogwarts all afternoon."

"No—Mum, you should rest," insisted Ginny at once, rushing forward and taking Molly's hands in hers. "I can take care of—"

"Ginny, did you really think I'd let you have my kitchen to yourself forever?" Molly asked, arching an eyebrow at her daughter. Ginny gaped at her, looking simultaneously astounded and thrilled. "Besides, I think I've rested enough. Why don't you peel some potatoes, sweetheart, and I'll join you in just a minute?"

Ginny blinked several times, then smiled and nodded, kissing Molly's cheek and hurrying back into the kitchen. Molly turned back around to face the sitting room. Andromeda had taken a seat on Arthur's armchair, and Hermione had gotten up from the sofa to join her; she was now cooing down at little Teddy, who was snuffling in his sleep.

Then, Molly caught Ron's eye. He gave her a broad grin, which she countered with a smile. Sighing softly, she began walking towards the kitchen. She had one hand around the doorknob, when—

"Erm—Mrs. Weasley?"

Molly turned around. Harry was standing in front of her. She smiled warmly at him. "What is it, dear?"

He hesitated for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he said, "I just—I wanted to say that…I'm really glad you're—" he broke off, his cheeks flushing with color.

But Molly didn't need to hear the rest. Swallowing the enormous lump in her throat, she stepped forward and pulled him into an embrace, drawing him close to her.

"Thank you for inviting her here, sweetheart," Molly said softly, kissing the side of his head, as she finally drew back, several moments later.

Harry gave her a tight smile, nodding.

"Thank you for everything else."

Author's Note:

*sniffs* This is the second heartbreaking post-war fic I've written in the past few weeks. I guess I've just been in that mood lately. Anyway, this is a re-write of an older story I once wrote called 'Andromeda.' I tweaked it to fit in more with my most up-to-date post-Battle head canon.

I think Molly and Andromeda were major comforts to one another, after the war. And I think that this particular meeting became the foundation for a very important and very loving friendship that lasted several decades.

Hope you all enjoyed this! I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Ari