Warning: Character Death

Andromeda Tonks wrung her hands on her cotton apron as she braced herself against the kitchen sink. She glanced out the small window over the sink, focusing on the big oak tree in her backyard. An old tire, the black rubber faded to a grayish hue, hung from one of the thick branches. She recalled happier times when little Nymphadora would swing from that tire. Andromeda's ears filled with her daughter's angelic, innocent peals of laughter as she rose higher and higher into the air. It seemed like it was just yesterday when she was with her baby girl.

She pulled herself away from the sink, composing herself enough to finish washing and drying the dishes. She bit the insides of her cheeks, preventing yet another wave of tears from trickling down her pale face.

Get it together, she scolded herself. It had been two full years. That was enough time. People move on. Life goes on.

Not for Andromeda Tonks.

No one had suffered the same losses. No one had lost so many family members. No one had to raise a baby at the age of 47. No one.

Today marked the second anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat. Hogwarts, like last year, hosted the soirée. Harry invited her, claiming that some time spent with close friends would do her good. She declined his request. She did not see the point. She did not help bring him down. She stayed at home with Teddy while others went off to battle.

"Dora, wouldn't it be best if you stayed with Teddy tonight?" Andromeda begged as she watched her daughter getting ready for the Final Battle. Nymphadora shrugged on a tan leather jacket and grabbed her wand off the table.

"I have to go," she stressed. "It's my job," she added. Andromeda sighed deeply, wishing that her daughter had chosen a less dangerous career.

"Are you sure? Teddy needs you," Andromeda said, hoping a gentle reminder about her child would change her thinking.

"Yes, I am sure. Please watch him for me," Nymphadora responded. With that, she pulled her mother into a tight hug, kissing her cheek before she departed for battle.

Andromeda slammed her fist down on the countertop, wincing at the sharp pain that traveled up her hand. Why her? Why now? Was this Merlin's way of punishing her for abandoning her family so many years ago?

A soft cry from the nursery pulled her out of her morose thoughts. She swallowed hard, straightened her back and made her way up the stairs.

"Oh, Teddy!" she exclaimed, a false warmth creeping into her voice. "How is my little boy?" She rushed to the crib and picked him up. Her touch silenced his cries. He began to babble happily, twisting her curly brown locks around his tiny fingers. She laid him on a small table beside the crib and changed his soiled nappy.

She placed him back in his crib and spun the mobile hanging above it. His laughter mixed with the mobile's melody. His tiny arms flailed as he tried to catch the toys. She bent down, her slender fingers combing his soft locks. His features were a striking match to her deceased daughter's. She recalled standing over the same crib watching her daughter while her husband looked on.

Oh, Ted! If only you had lived, she mused, hot tears forming in the corners of her eyes. All she wanted was one other person to share the burden. Just one. She could do it with one.

But alas, she had to raise the little boy all on her own.

She allowed herself to wallow in her thoughts while Teddy drifted off to sleep. She waited a few minutes to confirm that he was asleep. She then strode over to a large oak dresser that stood in the far corner of the room. She smiled softly as she recalled watching Ted carve the intricate designs into it. He had always been good with his hands.

She pulled out the top drawers and fumbled blindly for the one item that kept her going. She thumbed through the various items, searching for the glossy, thick paper stock. Her fingers grazed the yellowed pieces of parchment containing love notes from Ted and letters Andromeda sent him while away at school.

There you are, she thought, her smile growing wider. She pulled the photo out and clutched it to her chest as to embrace the people in it. She pulled it away and stared longingly at their faces. It was the last photo they had taken. Nymphadora had announced her pregnancy. Ted insisted on taking the photo the Muggle way to capture the moment and set it in stone. He made the camera work in such a way so he was able to come back and be part of it. Their arms enveloped each other while Remus' hand rested on Nymphadora's belly.

She almost wished they had taken a magical equivalent so she could watch their reactions. But, that memory remained etched in her mind. Occasionally, she would play it on a loop. It usually cheered her up. It was one of the best days of Andromeda's life. She wished she could return to that moment, hit stop and live there forever.

But alas, life moves on. Time moves on. People move on.

The moonlight shone through the small window casting a glare on the picture. She squinted her eyes and focused hard, willing them to appear in front of her as they had every night for the past six months. Perhaps the photo is magical after all, she thought. How is it that they show up?

A cool breeze swept through the room. Three white misty strands filled the space immediately in front of her. Her eyes widened as she watched them transform into the people whom she missed most.

"Mom?" a familiar voice called out, extending a hand to her. Andromeda's hand shot forward, desperate to feel her daughter's touch once more. Her fingers met the empty air, causing her to frown.

"It's me, dear," she whispered, trying to smile at her, but her facial muscles were out of use. It had been a while since she last smiled. "I miss you so much. I miss you all so much," she rasped through the tears that trickled down her face unbeknownst to her.

"We miss you too," the form of her late husband said, flashing his trademark smile at her. "Andi, you are doing a fine job with Teddy," he complimented, gazing at his sleeping grandson.

"You need to keep it up. I know it is hard, but you have to do this for us," Remus' form reminded her. His voice was oddly calming. She studied his face, noting that the scars had faded. In fact, all three of them looked happier. They looked far happier in death.

Death.

The word haunted and terrified her. It symbolized something painful and unwanted. And yet, there they stood. She focused on them again to confirm that they did look younger and happier.

Death.

It symbolized an option that no one would ever willingly select. Many a witch and wizard spent years searching for ways to cheat it. Death symbolized the uninvited visitor that crept up on unsuspecting victims at the worst times.

Death.

And yet, the temptation to join them seemed so sweet.

"Mom? What's wrong?" her daughter inquired.

"I cannot do this anymore. I miss you all so much. It is not fair!" Andromeda exclaimed, tightening her grip on the top of the dresser.

"Life isn't fair, Andi. But, think of Teddy," Ted said, stepping closer to her. She stepped forward hoping to feel his arms around her. The empty air hugged her back.

"You are strong. You can do this," Remus urged.

With that, the three figures vanished into the night, leaving Andromeda alone. She stared at the photo, willing them back, but her efforts were useless. They were gone.

Andromeda walked back downstairs and placed a sheet of chocolate chip cookies into the oven. Perhaps something sweet would calm her down. She opened a cabinet and wrapped her fingers around an ivory ceramic mug Nymphadora had created for her. She gave it to her on Mother's Day. Unfortunately, art had not been her daughter's strong point. The mug was awkwardly shaped and the clay was somewhat lumpy. The flowers painted on it were rather crude looking. Andromeda loved the mug despite its obvious flaws. She placed a teabag in it and put a kettle of water over the stove. She warmed her face and dried her tears with the streaks of steam that rose from it.

She stood in the center of her kitchen, lost in her thoughts for a few minutes. Eventually, she snapped out of it and picked up a small stool. She carried it to Teddy's room and placed it in front of his closet. She mounted the stool, stood on her tiptoes and grabbed a handful of bed sheets. The sheets, a mix of pretty pastels, once adorned the bed Nymphadora slept in as a child. She got off the stool, carried it to the center of the room and took a seat. Her hands shook as she knotted the sheets together. She walked over to the bed giving Teddy one long, last look.

She walked back to the stool and stood up on it, carefully maintaining her balance. She stretched her arms and tied the sheets from a wooden beam in the ceiling. Her eyes darted back and forth from the crib to the photo, which had fallen to the floor.

"Do I have a choice?" she asked the photo, hoping the figures would reappear.

"You always have a choice," a silky, deep, soothing voice whispered back. "But look at them. They look so peaceful... so happy. Would you like to join them?"

"No, Mom! Please do not do this!" the misty image of her daughter yelled at her. Her husband and son-in-law joined in her desperate cries. Andromeda tried to focus on their images, but the dark voice droned out their words.

"Join us. Come to us. We need you," a chorus of eerie voices whispered over and over.

"Look at them. They look so peaceful... so happy. Don't you want to join them?" the dark voice repeated.

The voices swirled around her until the buzzing became too much. With that, she carefully lowered the noose, slipping it over her neck. The soft cotton brushed against her throat. She tightened the noose and lifted her toes off the stool. A smile formed on her face as she willingly walked into death's open arms. She would finally be reunited with her lost loved ones.