This is a little fic I like to call "It was late and I couldn't sleep." 5 little 100-word Andromeda drabbles, just because.
Five Times
She is surprised her hand doesn't shake, her writing is steady, unforgiving black ink against expensive parchment. She doesn't really expect understanding, she certainly doesn't expect forgiveness, and yet because of what they once were, she can't quite leave without a word. It is not even something real she is leaving, it's just a memory. It's Bella- not the masked servant of the Dark Lord- but the wild, laughing child who had once been her sister. She signs it "your sister, Andy" though she knows Bella will never call her a sister again. She goes to Ted knowing that it means goodbye forever.
The dormitory is dark, but a gap in the curtains lets moonlight fall across the bed, illuminating her bright hair spread over the pillow, making it silver instead of gold. Even having watched her little sister for fifteen years, she can be caught off guard by Narcissa's beauty. She leaves the note on Narcissa's pillow, and then finds she can't not touch her, smoothes back her hair and kisses her forehead. Tomorrow, there will be anger and tears, but tonight, Cissy stirs and clutches at her hand, and settles back into sleep. She disengages her hand gently, and whispers "good bye."
"You can't," she knows she sounds desperate, but she could stand anything but this.
"Andy, it might be the only chance we'll both get through this alive. If I go, you'll be safe, you'll be here for Dora."
"No Ted…"
They don't say it, but they both know it, and so she tries to memorize every touch, every word, every breath. They don't say it, but they are both so terribly afraid it is the last time. They say it's not forever, but know it very well may be.
It's Kingsley who tells her, but really she already knew.
"Dora, you can't."
"I have to Mum, Remus…I can't let him…I can't lose him…"
I can't lose you. Not you too.
"And your son?"
"Look after him Mum, please? You have to understand."
"Be careful…please be careful," She doesn't say goodbye, she won't. Dora is a warrior, she's survived battles before, she will not say goodbye, not to her only child.
As her daughter leaves Teddy's whimpers rise to a wail, she sinks down into a chair, repeating the words to herself against violently blue baby soft hair…be careful, be careful. Haven't I lost enough?
Again, it is Kingsley who comes.
It's not like her to fuss, but she does, just this once- straightens his tie, adjusts the flower pinned to his lapel. His hair is brown, in honor of the importance of the day, though she knows Victoire likes the wild array of colors. It's the shade of Dora's when she didn't change it, the shade of Ted's, though he couldn't know that.
"I'm very proud of you, Teddy," she kisses his cheek, and pushes him toward the door, where a roomful of guests and a glowing young woman wait.
She thinks it is another goodbye, but this one barely stings.