May 2nd, 1998

"…I'm sorry- wait, wait, no- I-"

Those were the last words Andromeda Tonks heard coming out of the radio broadcast of Potterwatch before she found herself sitting alone in her living room, suddenly acutely aware of every minuscule detail around her. The newborn that was laid on the quilt she kept on the couch was breathing heavily. Her hand swept over his head. Her own daughter, Nymphadora, was born completely bald. That's what was so shocking about finding out that she was a metamorphmagus. Andromeda's grandson, however, had a large headful of hair for a baby and sometimes, if he was in a deep enough sleep, his hair would slightly shift colours. He probably had no knowledge of that though, come to think of it.

"I'm too young to be a grandma," Andromeda murmured to herself as she got to her feet. Of course, that was sort of her fault for running away from home at seventeen to have a baby out of wedlock. It was a bit odd to consider the fact that she was still only five years older than her son-in-law. But at least he was a good man or a relatively decent prick depending on one's frame of reference.

Andromeda's home was filled with ghosts. At, say, 3 o'clock in the morning, it only felt as though she was staying up rather late. At almost five, it seemed to shift drastically to a point that she could have sworn she saw the eyeballs in the portraits on the walls watching her as she walked by them, faces staring at her from the other side of the windows, death eaters lurking behind each wall. She found herself wandering aimlessly, trying to distract herself from the fears she knew she had, but were muffled in her head with exhaustion by tidying the shoes that cluttered the front door so she wouldn't have to make painful eye contact with the picture of her dead husband that was smiling above the kitchen. Her son-in-law needed new shoes, and Andromeda made a mental note to buy him some for Christmas. Her daughter was just as likely to get some as her trainers looked well beyond their time as well. A crumpled pink sock was hiding in the corner alongside a dust-bunny. The whites in the eyes of Andromeda's wedding photos seemed shockingly bright. She quickly switched on the light so that the spectral faces would stop staring into her. She could let herself drift off from time to time, but the baby always startled her awake again.

Andromeda was on her…fourth cup of coffee? No, wait, fifth. She didn't even particularly care for coffee, she just wanted to do anything to keep herself alert. Stopping by the sink, she splashed warm water on her face, gazing at the abyss that was the garbage disposal. How long was she supposed to wait before knowing that something was wrong? At what point was she supposed to throw up her hands and say that there wasn't any hope left for survivors? The coffee in the pot was stale and cold, layers of rings staining the glass. Andromeda emptied it into her mug anyways, topping it off with a healthy amount of sugar and milk. The rim was sticky from her repeated sips of it. The dishes from dinner the night before were still beside the sink. It could have taken her a few moments to wave her wand and send them back into the cupboard, clean, but she couldn't find the energy within herself to do so. Her body was in survival mode, and in a way, washing the dishes seemed pointless. How had the night before been so calm? So normal? There was no terrible foreboding weather, no worrisome news on the radio. Andromeda fixed pasta for dinner and Tonks and Remus were cuddled up on the couch with a blanket and the remains of a pint of ice cream Andromeda had gotten them as a gift during one of her last grocery runs. Remus took a shower, Tonks put the baby to bed after feeding him for a final time… everything was so... fine. Everything was where it was supposed to be.

She counted up all of the scenarios in which she would have to go to the Ministry of Magic to identify bodies. Her daughter or son-in-law, her sisters, the lovely woman who always gave her discounts at the apothecary when the war began, or one of the old healers from St. Mungo's who she worked under for several years and even delivered her daughter. Since the war, the entire family was on lockdown. No working. No socializing. No going back to the flat Tonks and Remus owned (though Andromeda suspected Tonks was coercing her husband to continue paying the monthly bills). Andromeda grew their food in the garden and only went out to muggle supermarkets late at night for necessities.

The sun was peeking over the horizon but was still hidden far behind the trees, only showing enough light to send the sky into a multitude of colours. Pinks, purples, oranges, and blues fought like a renaissance painting… the sky looked like candy floss. It looked like her daughter's hair. Andromeda caught herself staring out the small kitchen window for a while. At least until baby Teddy began crying. Andromeda fixed his bottle, wrapping him back up in the blanket she had knitted around Christmas time for him, and settled back with him on the sofa. He was only about two weeks old. What was Andromeda thinking in letting her daughter go to war? She lost so much blood during the delivery, she was even still complaining about it alongside the lingering pain, and she nearly couldn't walk for almost one of those two weeks. And now she thinks she can hold a wand and fire spells at people who are aiming at her with the equal intent to kill? She wasn't even ready to go back to heavy lifting yet. Andromeda couldn't do anything now though. She should have stopped her, she should have stopped her, why would the most hard-headed woman in the universe have said she was just going after her husband, she should have stopped her- Now it was Andromeda's turn to cry. There weren't tears coming out yet, but she caught herself hunched over the baby as she burped him, breathing as if she had just tried to run a marathon. It felt like there was a hand squeezing everything out of her heart and onto the living room floor.

Once she caught up to the world around her, the static still poisoning the radio and thus the rest of the living room, Andromeda attempted to conduct herself. She carried her less than pleasant coffee in one hand and her grandson in the other out to the front porch. Teddy enjoyed being rocked and seemed to enjoy the outdoors. Andromeda didn't feel they were old enough to own any rocking chairs yet, but the large bench swing did just fine. The sun was getting over the trees now. The neighborhood was awakening to go and get their newspapers, leave for work, or walk their pompous little dogs. The clouds were pale orange now, tinted with yellow. Teddy stirred in his sleep, showing off a bubbly yawn to his grandmother. The Tonks' house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, more secluded from the others with large hedges and fencing to hide what used to be a whirlwind of pink hair that was born here, and would surely soon be a whirlwind of Teddy's own colour of choice (though Andromeda did sincerely hope that the Lupins would get to move out and find their own place again, as sticking around only meant the worst). When Andromeda ran away, she told Ted all she ever wanted was a quiet house in the countryside, but they made suburbia work. She still wasn't too happy about the gaping muddy hole in her gardenias from a particular flying motorcycle. The banister on the porch was rotting, if only to oaf had wrecked into that, she could have made Ted plead with the insurance company to get a new one. But instead, the gardenias saw to their end. It was frankly the uglier of the two muddy gardens, though having a body-sized grave was still in the competition and was slightly more unnerving than the uprooted flowers.

But that was a story for another time.

"Oh goodness, I know," Andromeda cooed. It was an unusually warm day and the air was almost beginning to grow sticky. She took the infant out of his blanket and propped him up on her chest. He was seemingly more alert to his surroundings than usual, but also looked as if he could fall back asleep at any second if he changed his mind. "Mummy and Daddy should be home soon. They've been gone for long enough, don't you agree? Poor mummy's probably not too happy with her feet all swollen. I wouldn't be surprised if she makes your daddy carry her all the way home." Andromeda tried not to think up all the other reasons he would be carrying her body up to the front steps.

The postman was making his rounds in the cul-de-sac. He seemed to take ages to make it up to the porch. He was an older, nameless, faceless man, who was always a bit too chatty. "Good morning, Mrs. Tonks! Lovely morning, don't you think?"

"Wonderful weather," Andromeda replied, her head turning up to the sky. "I thought it was meant to rain."

The man was awfully interested in the baby. "Now don't tell me I missed out on your little one, eh?" He smiled.

"Oh no, not mine. My daughter's. Two weeks old. Named him after his grandfather, of course." She laughed nervously.

"Well tell the happy her I said congrats, will you?"

"Oh, certainly." Andromeda's smile wavered. He leaned over to hand her the mail and she took it, which consisted of two beauty magazines, a bill, and a reminder to make an appointment with the dentist.

"You look good nonetheless, Ma'am."

She was putting herself in a defensive position over the baby. His hair was brown for now, but of course, his mother's always changed around muggles at an inopportune time, so why shouldn't her son's? "Stay safe out there, do you hear?"

"Of course, Mrs. Tonks." He waved. "And tell your husband I said hello, will you?"

Did Ted even know the postman? Were Ted still alive, Andromeda would probably have watched her husband come out to greet the postman and have some story to tell about how they met and became friends, which would somehow surprise Andromeda, despite the fact Ted seemed to be "good old friends" with everyone. Oh, what did it even matter?

"Of course." Andromeda waved. "Have a good rest of the day."

"You as well, Ma'am!" The postman replied.

Andromeda waited for him to disappear behind the shrubbery before letting out a long sigh.

Cars passed by as people began to go to work, and now Andromeda's heart was pounding hard in her chest. Please don't let it be the Ministry, don't let it be the aurors... She was left alone with her thoughts except for her grandson and she was fit to be tied with paranoia, wondering what the hell was going on. She should've gone. She should have made her daughter stay with the baby, but hell, Tonks couldn't stay out of trouble for five minutes even if she tried. Time ticked by so slowly it made it feel as if every second, her insides were on fire and she had to sit as still as she could until it passed.

A large truck drove by in front of the house, supposedly going to deliver a large package to one of the neighbours, and Andromeda's eyes vacantly watched as a group of men were trying to unload a sofa into someone's garage. In a split second, two figures appeared on the other side of the street. She didn't notice as they approached the house, until they were right up to the porch.

Both figures looked startled. The man was leaning awkwardly on the shoulder of the woman, unable to put weight on his foot. His face was grey and tired, his hair in need of being brushed. He had time to throw on clothes. The woman had her dark brown hair sloppily piled atop her head. She was in a heavy sweatshirt and jacket to hide what remained from her pregnancy, with sweatpants and boots with untied laces. Her hand was cramped up like a claw and wrapped in heavy bandages. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises freckled the both of them. They were sweating and covered in grime and dust.

Andromeda shot out of her seat, her wand at the ready. "Where the hell have you two been? I've been worried sick for hours!"

Tonks laughed nervously, looking over at her husband, whose weak smile only amounted to a well-placed grimace. "Yeah, about that, actually... we were at Mungo's. The only reason they let us leave was because we're some of the better off looking ones." Remus winced, his eyes squinting.

Andromeda finally lowered her wand. She dropped it on the ground as she ran over to her her daughter. "I thought you were dead. I thought-"

"I'm okay, Mum." Tonks said. Both of them were weeping in each other's arms now. "Can I hold Teddy? I'd like to see him."

"Here, be gentle, and hold his head-" Andromeda coaxed as she handed on the baby.

Tonks' knees gave away and she crumbled into what was almost an upright fetal position in the step, the baby clutched close to her. She was sobbing now and babbling something to him incomprehensibly.

"Aren't you supposed to ask the security-" Remus started to argue in an exhausted voice.

"Lupin, I'm not about to fight you into this house, because you know damn well who'll win." Andromeda's voice faltered. "So tell me, are you a death eater?"

"No." He swallowed with wide eyes. "Are you?"

"No." Andromeda nodded. There was an awkward pause and she threw her arms around the man. "I'm glad you're alive just as much."

"Oh, don't kid, Andy." Remus tried to joke, but he was both emotionally and physically crushed by the mother's hug.

"You're my son, Remus." Andromeda mustered. She tried to regain her composure as she stepped back to retrieve her wand. "So maybe you best come inside, quick, before I stand here with the door open long enough to let the real death eaters inside."

"Dora," Remus croaked. He reached down to touch his wife's shoulder. "Let's go in. I'd like to lie down as soon as possible. I got hit in the head with a bad hex... hospital's only giving out pain medicine to the worst ones there."

"I'll find you something." Andromeda promised. The two helped Tonks up the front steps and inside the house. "I'd obviously love to hear about everything that happened, but you two need showers and rest. Did they feed you at the hospital?" Her daughter sniffled and shook her head. "I thought not. You ought to have something in your stomach if you're going to take anything, you know."

"Thank you." Remus nodded. Andromeda was fumbling around in the cabinets for something and the gas stove was already on. Tonks was wiping away her tears and snot and he used his sweater sleeve to help her.

"I thought you liked that sweater." Tonks chuckled.

"What, you think I won't burn it after that mess last night?" He replied. Her hair was sticking up in the front almost like overly teased bangs that Remus pushed out of the way to see her face. He ran his thumb over her cheek. "We made it."

She nodded in affirmation, closing her eyes. "Yeah." Her eyes were droopy and dark like her mother, though Tonks' left eye had a swollen purple around it. Her throat was purple, distinct finger marks cupping her neck like a glass of water. Her right hand was also severely bruised under her sleeve; it had been broken earlier that morning, along with almost all of her fingers, and despite proper medical attention, it still sported a bright purple blemish.

Remus sported a similar attire to his wife: blood caked on his nose and down his cheek, a long cut stretched from his ear, down his cheek to the side of his mouth, and bruises littered his face and body in similar manner to his wife. He looked like he was one square-on hit away from having a nose to match Dumbledore.

"Now may not be my place nor time," Andromeda chimed in, a package of bacon in her hand. "But who was there? Who did you see? Who did you fight?"

"Well for one, Harry was-"

"It's okay, I knew about Harry from the radio." Andromeda said. "I mean... who did this to you?"

Tonks took a shaky breath. "It was Bellatrix. She was the one to come after me. I knew it, we all knew it, she had a plan the whole fucking time to-" Her bad hand was visibly clenched and shaking and Tonks looked like she might cry again

Andromeda's entire face dropped, mumbling, "Just like Sirius... like your father..."

"Yeah." Tonks choked on her tears, trying to hide them by facing her husband. Remus reached over, taking her by the hand that (wasn't purple) was holding the baby.

"My god, Dora... What did she do to you?" Her mother asked in a quiet voice, her hand resting on her chest, fiddling with the collar of her shirt.

"She just knocked me around, Mum, it's fine, I'm fine-"

"She used Crucio, didn't she?"

"It's no different from two years ago at the Ministry. She beat me around, broke my hand, and I'm fine now." Tonks jabbered, completely avoiding a straight answer.

Andromeda shook her head. "I knew you shouldn't have become an auror. I knew that bitch would come after you and try to kill you. She did it to Sirius, she did it to Ted-"

"Mum, I'm alright, I swear." Tonks urged. "I-I was the one who... who..."

Remus caught on that Now was a good time to cut in. "Andromeda, Dora took care of her. I saw the body. Bellatrix can't hurt anyone else." He assured. "And Dora... Dora-"

He didn't know what to say to her, or even, what to say about her to appease her mother. Her nightmares were awful enough before the battle, Remus knew things would only get worse from there.

The three stopped talking over each other, the only audible noise in the kitchen was the gurgles of the baby. Tonks' stomach tied itself in knots, forcing her to abandon the invitation to breakfast.

"Who else died?" Andromeda asked.

"Antonin Dolohov. I know for certain Greyback went down, as well as Snape, and of course... You-know-who." Remus actually winced saying it aloud, but he remembered what had happened the last time. "I knew several of the students that went down. Fred Weasley, Lavender Brown, to name."

Andromeda shook her head, busying herself with the stove. "Poor Molly. Can't have been easy on her. None of them, but her especially. And George, of course."

No one knew exactly to say, but subconsciously or not, they all had the same thought. It seemed so surreal, they all wondered if it was just a dream, or a hallucination caused by their lack of sleep, though no one said anything about it.