Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!
A/N: Revision and exams are my life right now, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Partly inspired by Jack Johnson's If I Could, and my biology revision. Clearly, I'm not a doctor, I'm an English student, so my medical knowledge is minimal. However, this has been checked by 2Padfoot00Moony9, who I trust with it! I hope you like it, reviews are amazing if you can!

In the maternity ward, Teddy's baby is grappling with life. It's an easy decision, but hard to make: at all costs, the baby has to live. She's so new, tiny and wrinkly and pink, with the loudest, most heart-wrenching cry he's ever heard. They only let her mum hold her for a few seconds before they take her away.

On the upstairs ward, in a room on her own, Andromeda's health is fast deteriorating. She's not an old woman, especially not by wizard's standards. The bout of pneumonia left her open, and the pox worked its way into her body.

He's never felt a fear like it. So recent is the past when he'd never seen her face, but he has now and he'll know it forever. He just has to know that she's going to live. He thinks of his Gran, too, while they wait, but he can't go until he knows what his daughter needs.

There are so many faces that she can barely distinguish between the ones that are there with her, and the ones that are somewhere that's always been just beyond her reach. You've got a granddaughter, they smile brightly, Mr Lupin wanted us to tell you.

Mr Lupin has been dead for over thirty years, she wants to say, but she doesn't, because she remembers in time that it's Mr Ted Lupin now, not Mr Remus Lupin.

A blood transplant, that's her only chance, but the match will be rare. A close family member is the most likely match, they inform him quite calmly. They take samples to see if either of them will be able to help her. There's a chance that they won't, then they'll have to go to the Weasleys. There are no more Lupins to ask.

Neither of them are close enough. The tears are shaky down Victoire's face, streaked with age all of a sudden, and Teddy's hair is grey.

Andromeda nearly slips away again, body heavy but eyes open. All she's doing is waiting. Waiting to get better, in life or in death. She's just waiting for them to save her, or to fall away from her consciousness.

I don't know what to do, Teddy admits, and Victoire shakes her head sobs and nods all the same time. They need to think, they need time to get all of the Weasleys tested, but they don't have time. Those Weasleys whose blood is already known to Mungo's are unsuitable; there's a good chance the rest will be too.

The healers give Victoire a dreamless sleep potion, and Teddy sits and watches her as she leaves him too.

When his body is too heavy to stay in one place, he goes to see his daughter. A plastic band around her ankle says 'Lupin' because they didn't even decide on a name for her. She's so tiny in her incubator, silent now and that's almost worse.

He visits his Gran afterwards, sitting in the hard seat next to her bed. His chokes his greeting through a throat that is thick with grief already, the hopelessness already setting in. Congratulations, she smiles without getting up.

Teddy lets his head drop to the side of her bed, sheets soaking up his tears.

Andromeda strokes his hair as he cries, not knowing what has caused these tears in a father so new. She offers her hand again when he cannot cry anymore, and his grip is almost painful. She doesn't complain.

I can't save her, he says, and this feels painfully familiar to her. She doesn't really have the strength for conversation, so she raises their clasped hands to her lips and kisses them. Teddy speaks, and she listens.

She needs a blood transfusion, but her type is so rare. I'm not a match and neither is Victoire or her family. We'll have to wait to see if they can find a match, or she'll... she might... She might die, but Teddy doesn't say it and neither does she.

Seconds later, she makes the only decision that matters. It feels like the most important, most easy decision she's ever made, and she's made quite a few in her time. Teddy's whole expression changes when she asks.

Could I be a match?

Teddy wishes they'd let their family come, but it felt like something they'd wanted to do alone. Bill and Fleur, Louis and Dom and the kids are at Shell Cottage, and Harry and Ginny are waiting with them. The others will be waiting at the Burrow. He wants his big noisy family, his godfather who always knows best. He wants the paternal hand on the shoulder, the maternal embrace he's never known, and his wife, who will be sleeping until morning.

He doesn't want to have to do this on his own. This decision is too big, and he won't sacrifice his Gran for his daughter.

Andromeda fights against herself and props herself up on her pillows. She takes Teddy's chin in her hands and shakes her head. Look at me, darling, I'm not going to be around for long. She wills him to understand, begging him silently, grey eyes locked onto grey eyes. Call your girl's healer?

He does, hoping both that she is a match, and that she isn't.

She is.

Andromeda beams like she hasn't in months. What are you waiting for? She offers the healer her bony arm. We haven't got all day.

The healer shakes his head. I don't think you quite understand the gravity of the situation, Mrs Tonks. If we take this blood from you now, you won't see morning.

She knows this already. But she's seen that same sun rise on so many mornings. She doesn't want to go; she wants to know her granddaughter, to see how much she looks like Teddy, and Dora, to see her smile for the first time. But Ted's baby hasn't seen the glory of the sunrise, or the beauty of the sunset, and if she doesn't do this now, then she might never get the chance to smile in the first place.

Days later, they give in to her wishes. Teddy wants desperately to take her to see the baby, but Andromeda can't be moved easily, and the baby is still under constant medical supervision. By the time the healers have found a way, it's too late. Andromeda's taken a turn for the worse, and they take the blood they need from her while they still can.

They don't have time for a grand death speech or conversation. Teddy reaches the hospital and his Gran is unconscious, pale from where they've taken her blood, and his daughter is being taken into surgery.

Andromeda closes her eyes to her hospital room, unable to wait for Ted or Victoire, the healers rushing around beside her. She doesn't seem to open her eyes, but her entire self, when she wakes up.

Her own daughter is hugging her, whispering thanks and love in her ear, and her Ted is gripping her hand now. Remus is watching, arms arranged like he is holding a baby in them. The first second she looked, there was nothing, the second, a baby, ethereal and barely there is cradled close to him.

No, she groans low in her throat, please no.

She barely came through, Mr and Mrs Lupin, we had to bring her back more than once. You've got a fighter and no mistake!

Teddy breaks down in tears then, of euphoric relief and the sincerest joy, and Victoire laughs and smiles and demands to be taken straight to her daughter. They say that gaining life makes losing life easier to understand, and while the loss of his Gran is still raw, the life in his baby is her gift and there's nothing more amazing than that. She still looks tiny and new, but she's safe and healthy, and that makes all the difference.

You saved her, Mum, she'll be fine, Dora smiles widely, and Andromeda smiles and doesn't stop.

We can't call her baby Lupin forever, Victoire points out as they look at her. They'd spoken about lots of names, but things feel different now.

Teddy holds her in his arms, his tiny little girl, who has already survived so much. She's got my Gran's spirit, he beams with tears shining in his eyes, Athena Andromeda Lupin. Victoire nods, and gives Athena her finger to hold.