Thanks:

I owe the existence of this story to MandyinKC, who asked me, "Have you ever considered what a meeting between Dean Thomas and Andromeda would be like?" No, I hadn't. But now I have!

I owe the final version of this story to a fantastic beta-read by stereolightning, who has an eye for both the big-picture questions and the small, important details.

And of course, I owe the entire sandbox to one J.K. Rowling.

Notes:

This story stands alone, but it does draw on elements and ideas from my other stories "Saying Yes," "Chambers" and "Ginny, Harry, Teddy, Family," if you're interested in reading those, too.

– – – – –

Never Too Late to Say Thank You

– – – – –

"Have I forgotten anything?" Harry asked, shifting Teddy to his other arm.

Andromeda smiled. "No, Harry, you've got everything, and you'll do perfectly fine, just as you always do. And you know you can always Floo me if you have any problems."

"Oh, we won't have any problems, will we, kid?" Harry said. He gave Teddy a grin and a little tap on the nose.

Teddy grinned back at him. "Wee!" he said, which was as close to saying "Harry" as he'd got so far. Not bad for a baby not quite one year old.

It did Andromeda good to see Teddy in the affectionate care of his godfather, whenever Harry came to visit or to take Teddy out for the day. Even if it was hard, still, to let her grandson out of her sight for an entire afternoon.

At first, she knew, Harry's visits had begun out of a feeling of obligation – to Teddy, who was his godson, and to Andromeda herself, for all she had lost in a war for which Harry seemed to feel he bore a sort of personal responsibility. But over time, it seemed he'd come to view Andromeda as family of a kind, an amalgam of Sirius and Harry's lost parents and Teddy's lost parents in one.

For her part, during that first tough year of his Auror training, and the months when he was painstakingly putting back together the pieces of his relationship with Ginny, Andromeda had provided warm meals and a sympathetic ear.

Provided things, in fact, that her daughter Nymphadora had been less willing to accept during her own tough years of Auror training, intent as she was on proving her independence and her adulthood. But Harry, Andromeda supposed, had already more than proven he could go it alone. What he had less experience with, really, was accepting the help that others offered.

"All right, I think we're ready to go," Harry said. "We'll be back by dinner, does that sound okay?"

"And you'll stay for dinner, of course," Andromeda replied.

Harry ducked his head in acknowledgement. "Thanks, Andromeda. You obviously know your cooking beats absolutely anything I'd manage for myself."

Still holding Teddy in one arm, he hoisted the bag with Teddy's toys and things onto his other shoulder in one practised motion. Andromeda opened the front door for them. She glanced up – blue sky and lovely, mild spring weather. A good day for a small child and his young godfather to spend at the park together.

"Have fun," Andromeda told him. "Be good, Teddy."

"Bye-bye," Harry prompted.

"Bah-bah!" Teddy said, waving his hands.

"Bye, Andromeda," Harry said, too, then set off with Teddy down the footpath that led to the street. Teddy wriggled in Harry's arms, turning so he could keep waving at Andromeda, and she waved back.

Now there was nothing to do but try to enjoy a quiet Saturday afternoon.

Andromeda sighed. She could catch up on some reading, she supposed.

She'd just settled into her armchair with a book when the door chimed. Surprised, Andromeda set her book aside and went to see who was calling.

She opened the front door to find a young man with dark skin, short-cropped hair and a pleasant, honest-looking face on her doorstep, dressed in a jersey supporting what looked to be a Muggle football team.

"Yes?" Andromeda asked, looking out at this unexpected visitor. Wary, still, even though the chance of finding a Death Eater on one's doorstep these days was next to nil.

"Hi, Mrs Tonks?" the young man asked. "My name's Dean Thomas." He stuck out his hand in a hopeful gesture of greeting, and Andromeda shook it.

"Dean Thomas," she said, remembering the name. "You're a friend of Ginny and Luna's, is that right?"

"Right, I guess you could say that. Sorry, I suppose I should have sent an owl or something, instead of just coming by. I've been meaning to call on you for a long time, actually, but I'm not back in England very often, and I had an unexpected free day… I should have written ahead."

"Nonsense," Andromeda said, making up her mind on the spot. "Please come in."

She showed her young visitor down the hall and into the sitting room, where she left him while she made tea. When she came back in, he was standing by the fireplace, gazing at the photographs arrayed on the mantelpiece.

"That's you and Ted," he said softly. It wasn't a question.

Andromeda looked over at him sharply, then set down the tea tray on a low table between the two armchairs. "You knew my husband?" she asked.

The young man – Dean – took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and faced her directly. "Yeah. We were on the run together for a while there, during the war. I – I was there when he was killed, actually."

Andromeda felt the blood drain from her face and sat down hard, glad to find the armchair behind her legs.

"Oh – Merlin – oh, I'm sorry –" Dean dashed towards her, kneeling and grabbing her hand. "Mrs Tonks, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, fine," Andromeda said. She patted his hand, then released it. "Have a seat, please. You only surprised me."

He settled into the armchair across from her, still looking stricken. "Sorry, I've been thinking about this for so long, wanting to come and express my condolences, you know, but now I've turned it all around –"

Andromeda cut into his rambling apology as gently as she could. "Tea?" she asked, keeping her voice perfectly level, as if it were an everyday occurrence for young men to show up at her door unannounced with news of her husband's last moments.

"Er, yes, please."

She poured a cup for each of them, slowly, using the time to marshal her thoughts. The tea set was the same one Ted had given her in the first year of their marriage, complete with a joke about how it probably wasn't quite up to the standard of the family heirlooms she was used to. But Andromeda had always preferred Ted's set, with its simple blue-on-white pattern.

"Thank you very much," Dean said, as she handed him a fragrantly steaming teacup. He took a careful sip and smiled appreciatively. "Earl Grey! That's my favourite, too. This is very nice." Quite gentlemanly, she noted.

"You'll pardon me if I back up just a little for a moment," Andromeda said. "Who are you exactly?"

He nodded, seeming to accept this as a reasonable question. "Well, my name's Dean Thomas. I was in the same year at Hogwarts as Harry. But I come from a Muggle family, so when the Ministry started persecuting Muggleborns, I had to run. I really don't know if I would have made it through that year on my own. I'm a born Londoner, you know, so I had no idea how to survive in the woods. I was unbelievably lucky that I ran into Ted pretty early on. Mr Tonks, I mean."

Andromeda nodded. "How did you meet him?"

Dean laughed a little, looking down at the teacup he seemed to have forgotten in his hand. "I was just there in the woods, completely out in the open, trying and failing to get a proper fire going. Anybody could have come across me – I wasn't even using concealment charms or anything. I guess I was just really thrown off by having to leave home so suddenly, but I was definitely being an idiot, out there alone and not even thinking of basic precautions. Believe me, I know how lucky I am that it was Ted who found me first, especially with some of the people I later found out were running around those woods."

He took a sip of his tea, then set the cup back on the table. "Ted… He was an incredible person. He should have been worried about his own safety – he was completely Muggle-born, and I think I might actually be just half – but his whole focus was on helping me. You could tell, you know, that he came across me, this kid who didn't know at all what he was doing, and he just didn't want me to be alone out there. He, well, you –" He swallowed. "You had a daughter, right?"

"Yes," Andromeda answered, not trusting herself to attempt to say anything more.

"I think… I think he was thinking about his own daughter, you know, and wishing he could be taking care of her, instead of out there just fending for himself. So he figured, if he helped someone else's child, maybe there would be someone out there somewhere, helping his child, too."

"That sounds like Ted." Andromeda found she had to clear her throat. "Let's talk of something else for a moment, please."

"Oh! Of course," Dean said. He picked up his teacup again and fiddled with the handle. "Um… You've got a grandson, too, right? Professor Lupin's son?"

Andromeda smiled a little, to hear Teddy described in those terms. Easy to forget there was a whole generation of young adults out there around Harry's age who had had Remus as a teacher.

"Yes," she said, "my grandson Teddy is indeed Remus Lupin's son. Remus was your professor at Hogwarts, I take it?"

"Yes!" Dean exclaimed, eager now. "He was the best, absolutely. One of the best teachers we ever had. I still think about him, you know, how funny and interesting he made his classes, and how he was fair to everyone. He taught me a lot, and not just about Defence and magical Creatures. We all loved Professor Lupin."

Dean grimaced a little, seeming to sense he'd accidentally steered the conversation back to sadness and loss.

"And what are you doing now, Dean?" Andromeda asked, politely ignoring his discomfort. "Did you return to Hogwarts to finish your seventh year?"

"Oh – no, actually. Pretty soon after the end of the war, I got an apprentice spot with a swordsmith in Wales. I'd got to know a couple of goblins who were also on the run with us for a while and I guess I got curious about what they do. And I'd like to think they got to like me, at least, as much as goblins ever really like humans. I've always been good with my hands, too, so when I heard about this opening, I guess I leapt first and thought later."

"Do you enjoy it? Do you see yourself staying on there?"

He looked pensive. "I do enjoy it, yeah. But…I don't know if it's what I see myself doing all my life. Seems like there are more important things I could be doing, or should be doing – you know?"

"I do indeed." That sounded like much of Andromeda's own life, in fact.

"I think about, oh, I don't know, doing something with law, like Hermione is planning to do, or working in goblin liaisons, like Dirk Cresswell did, or even teaching… I think about Muggle Studies, sometimes. I think it's so important. Ought to be a subject everyone does, not just an elective."

Yes, very much like her own younger life, then – full of enthusiasm and conviction, but unsure in which of the many possible directions to turn.

"Not to alarm you unduly," she said, "but even we of advanced age sometimes still wonder what we're meant to be doing with our lives."

Dean chuckled a little. "Yeah, you're right, that's not exactly reassuring." Then his brow furrowed. "And you're not 'of advanced age,' Mrs Tonks. I know for a fact Ted wasn't even as old as my step-dad!"

A gentleman indeed. Andromeda found herself smiling again. But it faded as she surveyed this young man – hardly more than a boy, really, Harry's age – and thought of all he'd been through. She didn't like to ask him to relive any of it. And yet –

"If it's not too difficult for you," she asked, once again having to work to keep her voice even and calm, "would you mind telling me about the end? How Ted died?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Dean leaned forward in his chair, eyes earnest and sympathetic. "Well – we were caught by Snatchers. The same as happened to a lot of people. We tried to fight back, but they were using deadly force, and we were outnumbered. Ted, Dirk and Gornuk, one of the two goblins, were killed defending us. Ted, he – he died trying to protect the rest of us."

For one wild moment, all Andromeda could think was, I've made a family of martyrs, what have I done? – oh, Ted – Nymphadora –

If only Ted hadn't needed to be such a hero.

But if he hadn't done, he wouldn't have been Ted.

"It was a Killing Curse," Dean said, very softly. "Happened in an instant. So he didn't suffer at all, if that's any comfort."

He looked doubtful that such a small thing could be a comfort. But it was.

Andromeda sat silently, gaze firmly fixed on her hands in her lap, until she trusted herself to speak again.

"Thank you, Dean," she said. "I appreciate knowing that very much."

"You're welcome," he said, his voice small. "I should have sought you out a lot sooner, Mrs Tonks, I'm realising now. I'm sorry."

"Please," Andromeda said. "Call me Andromeda."

"O–okay," Dean said, sounding a little dubious.

"Truly," she said. "It means a great deal to me, knowing that Ted had someone with him in the end. I appreciate it more than I can tell you. Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome," Dean said. "But, I mean, I came here to thank you, really. Since I wish so much that I could thank Ted somehow, and I can't, so I thought – it's the next best thing. But you don't need to thank me for anything."

Andromeda shook her head and thought of Ted in hiding that year. Thought of the last time they had said goodbye, of the desperate wish that there had been time to arrange somehow to get him abroad, but there hadn't been. They'd thought going on the run had been his best hope. They'd been wrong.

She thought of Ted, not alone but with this gentle-hearted young man, both looking out for one another. It was a small comfort.

"Nonetheless, I'm grateful to you," she said.

Dean nodded, looking embarrassed. "Well, then you're very welcome, really."

"Wait a moment," Andromeda said. She set her tea aside, rose and crossed the room to her bookshelf. She was looking for a particular, well-loved volume with a deceptively plain brown binding… There.

Dean looked confused when she placed the book in his hands and sat back down across from him.

"It's the biography, unabridged version, of Phyllida Spore," she said. "You'll know her as the author of 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,' who also later served as Headmistress of Hogwarts, but before she gained acclaim as a herbologist, she pursued any number of other paths. She was quite the Renaissance woman, for a witch who lived before the Renaissance even began. That book was a favourite of mine when I was your age. I credit her with teaching me that not all lives must run straight paths, and that having too many interests to choose from is not a failure."

Dean's confused expression cleared a little. "I see. Yeah, sounds like something I could do with reading."

"Trust me," Andromeda said. "I'm sure a biography of a 14th-century scholar sounds like the dullest thing you can imagine, but don't judge it by its cover. She led an inspiring life and it really does make for riveting reading. I must have read that very copy you have in your hands at least ten times over the years."

"Wow," he said. "I – thank you. I'll read it right away and send it back to you."

"There's no need," Andromeda said. "I'd like for you to keep it."

Dean started to protest, then glanced at her and seemed to change his mind.

"Thank you," he said. "That's really kind. I'm looking forward to reading it. "

At the end of their visit, when they had finished their tea and Dean stood to go, he did so with the Phyllida Spore biography tucked carefully under his arm.

Andromeda saw him to the door and said, "Perhaps you wouldn't mind sending me an owl, now and then. I'd be curious to know where your path takes you, what you choose to do next."

"Yeah, sure. Of course!" he replied, sounding surprised, but pleased. "Absolutely, I'll stay in touch. It's been really nice to finally meet you, Mrs Tonks – Andromeda."

"Take care of yourself, Dean," she said.

"Oh, and would you mind saying hi to Harry from me? It's too bad I missed him."

"I'll do that."

"Thanks." With a last grin and a nod of his head, Dean turned and loped down the footpath, stopping once to turn back and wave.

Even after he'd gone, Andromeda stood in the doorway, gazing at the spot where he'd Disapparated at end of the path.

She could almost hear Ted's voice behind her, saying, Look after that kid for me, Dromeda, would you?

"Yes, Ted, I will," she said aloud. "And I dare say he's got it into his head now that he ought to look in now and then and make sure I'm all right, as well."

Andromeda rested one hand against the doorframe beside her, appreciating the solidity of the wood beneath her fingers.

She thought of Ted, and all the little hidden pieces of him she was finding, still, in the least expected moments. She ran a finger along the wood, feeling its reassuring grain.

"Thank you," she whispered.

– – – – –

The End