Salt and Pepper Fest: I see a great deal of myself in you

[hpgoldenage_mod]

Title: I see a great deal of myself in you
Author: emrldapplejuice
Characters/Pairings: Augusta Longbottom/Andromeda Black Tonks, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Teddy Lupin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 20400
Content/Warning(s): light angst, grieving, bereavement, hurt/comfort, mental health, friendship, falling in love, romance, older women
Summary/Prompt: While reading her favourite magazine, Andromeda's eyes fall on a familiar name. She sees many parallels between her life and that of Augusta Longbottom. She decides to seek advice from grandmother to grandmother. (Prompt C3)
A/N: I was immediately intrigued by this prompt. I never thought I'd end up writing such a long story, but they are fascinating characters and I enjoyed exploring them. Thank you, prompter, and thank you to the mods for this great fest. It was a joy to write for it! Thank you, whyareweatalesbianbar, for being a wonderful beta!

Read on AO3 or below:

Chapter 1

One glance at the crib confirmed that Teddy was sleeping soundly, fists balled, lips pursed. His hair was fine and golden. In the sunlight that filtered in through the patio door, he looked almost angelic.

Andromeda took a slow sip of tea—a smooth mixture of sweet flower petals and spicy herbs—and reached for the magazine. She was well aware of what a rag Witch Weekly was. Yet, she had never cancelled the subscription. Too irresistible was the pull to see the latest fashion statements and the beautiful and powerful witches that were splashed onto each page. Throughout the years, it had ever so often allowed her to catch a glimpse of her mother and Narcissa. Seeing them had always brought on nostalgia first and then a twinge of anger second. She had never understood why in Salazar's name the editor-in-chief was foolish enough to print about Death Eater's wives. Filled with longing for this life long gone, Andromeda used to trace their smiling faces and silver hair with her fingertip. Decades later, only one head of silver hair remained, and Andromeda wasn't sure if she would ever want to lay eyes on her again. The outrage she felt for her sister was deeply seated, albeit mostly ignored. There were more important things to deal with first.

"Baba," came a voice from the crib beside her. She leaned over and caressed her grandson's belly. He cooed, held his fists into the air, and then succumbed to sleep again. Another win, Andromeda thought while sipping her tea.

She finished the article about the newest post-war fashion trends, snorted at how superficial the whole damn charade was, and moved on to the next page. It was a spread about war heroes, the few of them that had survived. She briefly wondered whether her daughter would have been asked to be a part of this article, had she lived, and if Nymphadora would have agreed. Andromeda decided that yes, Nymphadora would have accepted, but only to subtly call them out on their bullshit during the interview. The thought made her chuckle.

A handsome young face with warm brown eyes, staring at her from a double page, caught her gaze. Neville Longbottom wore a smart suit and a casual smile. His arm was wrapped tightly around the shoulders of a slender blonde. Her smile was bright and beautiful, her expression playful and dreamy. Luna Lovegood looked an awful lot like her mother, Pandora, who had been a colleague of Andromeda's in the eighties. Another beautiful soul who was ripped from life much too soon.

Andromeda skimmed the article, more than once wondering whether half of it was true. It was romanticised and melodramatic. It painted a much too simple picture of a gruesome war. The following page was reserved for the loved ones of the war heroes. One name stood out: Augusta Longbottom. The woman who had raised war hero Longbottom. The interviewer wanted to know what it was like raising an orphan. Augusta had answered with one poignant word: suffocating.

Grabby hands and demanding gurgles sprung to Andromeda's mind. Sleepless nights, followed by exhausting days. An endless spiel of caring without being cared for. It cut Andromeda's breath short.

She shook off the cramped feeling and forced her attention back to the article, curious to find out more about Augusta. To her dismay, the witch hadn't delved deeper into the past, only sang praise about the brave man her grandson had become.

Teddy gurgled. Louder this time. When Andromeda looked into the crib, big, stormy grey eyes met hers.

"Baba," he said and reached out his hands.

She bent over, lifted him, and sat him down on her thigh. "Did you sleep well, my heart?" she whispered while caressing his cheek.

He swung his hands into the air and slammed them onto the table. "Na-a!"

"I thought so," Andromeda said with a smile. "Nana was reading and drinking tea. See? There are many pretty pictures in here."

He reached out and patted the magazine, giggling and squealing while doing so. Andromeda grimaced. She was still getting used to his loud demands but let him continue while she finished her cuppa. Only when he began to tear the paper did she intervene.

Teddy flipped frantically back and forth between the pages. Andromeda caught Augusta's name a second time.

Widowed Mrs Longbottom had been the talk of the town after her son and daughter-in-law had been tortured into insanity. Everyone had pitied the stern woman—Andromeda included. Who wouldn't? She had lost so much. Andromeda looked down at her gurgling grandson and realised that she was now at the receiving end of the exact same stares and whispers, and if Andromeda hated anything, it was being pitied. Yes, her family was lost. Yes, it hurt, but Andromeda was still breathing, and so was her grandson. She was proud and enduring, powerful and kind. She was a Black. A Tonks. She knew her strengths. She didn't need pity to go on.

Pride and endurance were traits Augusta possessed as well. The born and bred Macmillan was a formidable, intimidating witch. Few ever dared to cross her. Another thing she could relate to. The longer Andromeda thought about the sparse glimpses she had caught of Augusta's life, the more curious she became.

There was an odd sort of kinship she felt towards the witch. What better inspiration for her grandparenting was there than the witch that had single-handedly raised a war hero while suffering an immense loss?

With a flick of her wand, parchment, quill, and inkwell flew onto the table.

The last time they had seen each other had been an unfortunate encounter, and Andromeda briefly wondered if Augusta would accept her request for tea and a chat. Andromeda was sure that Augusta would never do anything to damage her excellent, albeit fearsome, reputation, which lifted the odds that her request would be granted. Andromeda knew from Harry that Augusta regarded etiquette and formality as a necessity. The stern woman was well-versed in all sorts of social politics. The young wizard had complained to Andromeda about her harshness in the matter more than once because Augusta had scolded him for lack of propriety during one of his visits at Longbottom Manor.

The letter to Augusta was quickly penned. Andromeda kept it very formal, but not overly stiff. She had given up on such formalities years ago.

Andromeda folded the piece of parchment twice and heaved her grandson onto her hip. "Come, love, I need wax." Teddy didn't protest but clung to her arm.

She let the letter float in front of her as she made her way to the study. Careful not to smear any, she dropped a glob of honey-coloured wax onto the letter and pressed her seal into it. Her loyal pygmy owl was on her way moments later.

Andromeda was feeding Teddy dinner when an eagle owl impatiently tapped on her window. It bit her when she loosened the letter from its leg, and so she sent it on its way without a treat. Augusta's response was as short and formal as Andromeda's letter had been. Augusta invited her to tea at Longbottom Manor the day after tomorrow.

-§-§-§-

Dressing for a formal tea date wasn't a challenge for Andromeda. Keeping up appearances had been bred into her. Her best, well-tailored robes, bought a decade ago, still fit like a glove. She pulled her hair up into a stern chignon and applied a sheen of make-up to hide the worst of her exhaustion—a teething toddler was a recipe for sleepless nights. She checked her face once more, grabbed the baby bag and the baby, and apparated.

Longbottom Manor was as imposing as its occupant. It was a massive red-brick mansion that blended seamlessly into the Muggle neighbourhood. Its location had caused an uproar in the early 1920s when purebloods everywhere claimed that building so close to the Muggles would be the ruin of the family. Almost eighty years later, the family's name was worth more than it was then, and that the blood was no longer pure was of no interest anymore. Andromeda had only seen the inside of the house once. That had been for a ball in the mid-sixties, but Andromeda couldn't remember what the celebration was about. What she recalled was that Frank senior and Augusta had not been present. The young couple were celebrating their anniversary abroad.

The house-elf who greeted Andromeda and Teddy at the front door was an adorable little creature who wore a clean, flower-printed dress.

"Missus Tonks," she greeted in a squeaky voice, big round eyes taking both of them in. "Mistress will be meeting you in the sitting room."

The elf let her enter and then led her straight towards the first door to the left, which made Andromeda frown a little. It was an impressive building, and she would have loved to get a good look around.

The little elf motioned Andromeda to sit down on the velvet-covered red settee. One look around the room was enough to confirm that the Longbottoms had been proud Gryffindors for decades. The room smelled musty, mixed with a hint of wood polish. Although it was a hot day in spring, the room was not magically cooled. Andromeda couldn't decide if the hostess had forgotten or if it was to get rid of her quickly. Deeming it impolite, she didn't cast one herself and regretted wearing such heavy robes.

Augusta let five minutes pass until she joined them. At least it was now evident to Andromeda that the older witch intended to cut this visit short.

"Mrs Tonks," Augusta drawled, "It's been a while."

She reached out her hand. Andromeda took it and gripped it as firmly as the older witch did.

"Mrs Longbottom," Andromeda returned, a polite social smile gracing her lips.

Augusta eyed her curiously and pursed her lips ever so slightly when her gaze fell onto her robes.

Overdressed, Andromeda thought, looking down at herself and then at the woman opposite her. Augusta wore a simple skirt, blouse, and a light cardigan. All pale colours, decidedly not wizarding. Andromeda was surprised. In all the years she had known the witch, she had always dressed very formally and had accentuated her outfits perfectly with various accessories. Why she chose such attire, Andromeda couldn't fathom, mainly because they were practically strangers and broke pureblood etiquette.

Curious, she let her gaze roam Augusta's face. She hadn't seen her this close in almost two decades. Her face was lined with age, but her gaze was as bright and attentive as it had always been. The colour of Augusta's blouse brought out the gold in her hair and the rosy tint of her cheeks. Her hair was tied into a loose updo, and some of her white-streaked blonde hair fell out of it, framing her face.

Teddy waved his hand, and to Andromeda's surprise, the older witch grasped it and gave it a shake.

"He's a chubby bugger," Augusta said harshly, meeting Andromeda's eyes. "Like my Neville. One can only hope that he'll grow out of it." She gave Teddy's cheek a squeeze that made him flinch.

Andromeda raised her hand to bat Augusta's away, but the witch pulled it back just in time.

"I will not have you insult my grandson!" Andromeda said curtly, her eyes hard. She stroked Teddy's back in soothing circles.

Augusta smirked. "Enough of our offspring then. Elf!"

The tiny elf hurried into the room, balancing a tea and biscuit tray double her size. She set it down on the mahogany table and served the refreshments with shaking fingers, almost overflowing Andromeda's cup. Andromeda reached out and helped the elf while balancing Teddy in her other arm.

"Missus is too generous," the creature said, big eyes filling with tears.

Augusta snorted. "You can leave."

Once the trembling elf had shut the door, Augusta leaned closer to Andromeda. "My grandson insisted I dress the creature. Told me that his muggle-born friend insists on freeing them. Free house-elves! Can you believe it?"

She was only a decade older than Andromeda but her words added at least another decade.

"It's not nineteen-fifty anymore, Mrs Longbottom," Andromeda said dryly and was promptly met with a condescending stare.

Augusta took a slow sip of tea, her eyes never leaving Andromeda. Andromeda calmly held her gaze. She had lived through enough pureblood quarrels to endure such games unflinchingly.

Eventually, the older witch set the cup down on the saucer and wiped her lips with a crisp white napkin. "Your letter was elusive at best. Why do you wish to speak to me?"

"I read the Witch Weekly article, and one word resonated with me. Suffocating," Andromeda answered. Her left arm was tingling, so she shifted the babe to the right, who let out a giggle. She smiled at him and kissed his temple.

"Ah," Augusta said. She leaned back in her seat, her look pensive, glued to the wall behind Andromeda. She thought for a moment before she carefully spoke, "Neville...He took everything I was." The bitterness rolled off her tongue.

The unguarded truth, coming from a witch she barely knew, shocked Andromeda. She looked down at her grandbaby. Teddy was breathing evenly, playing with the adorned sleeves of her robes. With the sun illuminating his light hair, he looked as sweet and innocent as he was. In moments like these, it was easy to forget the many times he reduced her to tears and made her feel inadequate. It was easy to think that he would never take more than she could give.

"Don't get me wrong, Mrs Tonks," Augusta continued, expression solemn, "I love him, and it was no question that I would raise him, but I had different dreams."

Andromeda swallowed hard, the words resonating. Never would she place Teddy in someone else's care, but she had imagined another path for herself. Life had a cruel way of interfering with her dreams and desires. She swallowed thickly. "I learned very early on that dreams are fickle," she said quietly.

A hint of compassion crossed Augusta's features. "There isn't much room to dream when you have a toddler grasping your tit every two minutes."

Andromeda smiled wistfully and kissed Teddy's hand. She kept her eyes on her grandson. "The reason I wanted to speak to you..." She paused to take a fortifying breath, "I need some wisdom."

"Wisdom?" Augusta arched an eyebrow. "I have only advice. The boy in your arms is not his mother. If you think you're doing well enough, try harder, but don't forget to also do better for yourself."

Andromeda wanted to inquire, but Augusta stood abruptly, so she followed suit.

"I'm afraid I have another appointment now," Augusta said impatiently, her voice tight.

When she met Augusta's gaze, the flicker of unease across her face didn't escape Andromeda. She let it go, like the proper guest she was. "Thank you for having me, Mrs Longbottom. I wish you a pleasant afternoon."

The fresh air outside was welcomed despite its humidity. After a few steady breaths, she pressed Teddy close to her chest and apparated.

She put Teddy down on the soft carpet. While she watched him babble to his toys, she mulled over Augusta's words. A lot of Teddy's behaviour reminded her of her daughter. It wasn't just the constantly changing appearance. It was the way he whimpered when he was hungry, the way he crawled, always tucking a foot under his bum, the way he scrunched up his nose before a voluntary morph. How was she supposed to not compare when he was so much like her? Was it wrong to do so if she did it in loving memory? After all, she was achingly aware that Nymphadora was gone.

She lay down next to Teddy and put her arm over her eyes. The last time she had dared to dream about a bright future had been at her daughter's wedding. Destiny had cruelly shown her that it was not worth it to dream. Life was best lived day by day.

As always, Teddy's happiness was short-lived. His face scrunched up, turned red and soon his cheeks were shiny from the tears he was shedding. He screamed and smashed his toy dragon to the ground.

"Come here, my heart," she said, pulling him to her chest. He wriggled in her embrace, angry and breathless. Despite her best efforts, he kept screaming into her ear, digging his sharp nails into her cleavage and neck.

"I know, Teddy. I know it hurts," she told him over and over and over again while she rocked him, pacing through the living room. More and more anger built in her chest, most of it directed at herself for being unable to calm him down and some directed at Teddy for screaming and screaming. The fury roamed through her, boiling her blood and prodding until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Silencio!"

The wandless magic took immediate effect. Silence, so liberating, so blissful, settled all around her. She closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply.

When she looked at him again, his fists flew into the air, his mouth opened and closed in silent agony. He smashed his head against her clavicle, searching for comfort only she could give him.

Augusta's words flowed through her mind, adding despair to her anger. How could she do better when she was so exhausted? How could she look after herself if she had a screaming baby to take care of? There was no escape from this, and she was afraid of getting fully sucked into the abyss. She sank down onto the couch, put him in her lap and her hand on his belly, rubbing soothing circles.

Teddy met her eyes, matching hers in colour but not in shape, and let out another silent wail. His face was blotchy and tear stained, and he scrubbed it with his hands, leaving angry scratch-marks. Guilt almost crippled her. It was so often like that. Anger, guilt, resentment. Rinse and repeat. She ended the spell and lifted the baby in her arms. "I'm sorry," she said, eyes filling with tears, holding him close, "I'm so sorry, my heart."

Perhaps one day she would crumble in on herself, on all the regret—old and new. Maybe she was letting him take more than she could give. It wasn't his fault, of course not. Never his fault. It was all on her and the realisation made her throat tighten.

After another round of pacing the living room, he calmed. Her chest expanded, allowing her to draw breath more freely. He freed himself from her embrace and she put him on the floor. He crawled towards his toy car, playing as if nothing had happened. But Andromeda knew it had. Had before. Would again. And it nagged at her.

Andromeda let her head fall back on the couch. After raising Nymphadora, she should know better, should do better, show more patience, but her girl had been a calm, content baby that grew into a whirlwind. Teddy was a born whirlwind. A baby boy with a strong opinion and a stronger temper. Every day she hoped that he would calm down so she could have more time to think and to grieve. She valued Augusta's advice, but she doubted that Neville Longbottom had ever been a whirlwind. Despite this, their destinies were shockingly similar, and she was eager to learn more about Augusta's experiences.

With some difficulty, her back protesting at her silly idea to lay on the couch without any semblance of good posture, she stood up and wrote another letter. She told Augusta that their meeting had helped her and would love to follow up. She invited herself to tea at Longbottom Manor a week later on a whim.

The reply and confirmation came swiftly and held a generous amount of biting subtext surrounding her audacity to invite herself. It made Andromeda chuckle. She was looking forward to seeing Augusta again and hoped that another meeting would clarify how she was supposed to raise this baby on her own without ruining them both.

Chapter 2

To seize the day and get them both some sun, Andromeda had travelled to Longbottom Manor the Muggle way, adding a long stroll through Hyde Park to their schedule. Teddy was strapped to her back in a carrier, and he was playing with her hair, undoubtedly shoving some into his mouth, when she rang the bell.

"Missus Tonks," the elf said in a cheerful voice. "Mistress is still out but should return shortly."

Andromeda frowned. Augusta knew how to play the rude hostess very well, but Andromeda knew how to take rudeness in stride. She had been brought up a Black after all, and, despite the years, had not forgotten her roots. Maybe it was time to remind the older witch of that. Save them both some time.

She followed the elf into the belly of the manor and up a flight of stairs while taking in the glorious sight. The marble was white and polished, the portrait's framed in gold, the chandeliers were heavy and glistering in the afternoon sun filtering in from skylights, and the carpet under her feet was plush. Despite the manor's vastness, it emitted warmth and was inviting, but it didn't really look lived in. She figured she was in the representative part of the manor and that the living quarters were hidden from prying eyes such as hers. That was how all her ancestral homes had been built.

"Mistress said you should wait in the library so you can read to pass the time."

This surprised Andromeda, but she didn't inquire. The elf wouldn't know the answer anyway. The house-elf turned to leave, but Andromeda touched her shoulder, making the poor thing wince. "What is your name?"

"Mimi, Missus," she replied in a shaky voice and apparated with a faint pop.

Andromeda lifted Teddy from his carrier, relieved to get rid of his body heat, cast a drying charm at her back to dry the thin jumper, and set him down on the floor. He moved quickly towards the first bookshelf and pulled himself up on the shelf, reaching out his hands to grab a heavy leather tome.

"Oh no, you don't," Andromeda said, grinning, albeit worried that the book could have bitten him or cursed him, or Merlin knew what. She knew from experience that old libraries were filled to the brink with unpredictable magic. She grabbed his hand and helped him take the few clumsy steps towards the centre of the room. He dropped onto his bum before they made it there. She warded him into a large circle and reached into her clutch to hand him some of his toys.

Once he was all set, she took in the library. It was a typical pureblood library. Ornate and vast, but sauf the dark grimoires that had been present in her ancestral home. Or they hid them better. There was no way for her to tell.

To her surprise, she also found Muggle literature neatly shelved in-between the wizarding literature. Delighted, she spotted a few novels she had sitting in her own bookcase. This put Augusta in a different light. Intrigued by the thought, she grabbed one and settled into the comfortable armchair by the window.

Mimi brought her tea and scones, to which she helped herself. She was twenty pages into the book, just about ready to lose herself in the plot, when the door opened and a grumpy looking Augusta waltzed in. The witch was wearing traditional, well-tailored robes, making her look imposing and haughty. Looking down at her dark slacks, Andromeda had to chuckle. Perhaps next time, she'd get the dress code right.

"Forgive me my tardiness," Augusta said, a hint of exasperation swaying in her voice. "My appointment was harder to get rid of than pixies in an attic."

Augusta shook her hand and then sat down on the settee opposite Andromeda, reaching for the teapot and pouring herself a cup. She angled the teapot in her direction, but Andromeda declined with a wave of her hand.

Andromeda's previous assumption about her lateness evaporated and gave air to curiosity. Augusta looked every bit the harsh businesswoman Andromeda had encountered in the early eighties when they crossed paths at St. Mungo's. Andromeda burned to know what she was working on now. She wanted to apologise for disrupting Augusta's hectic afternoon, but Augusta spoke first.

"Tell me, Mrs Tonks, do you not like it at home?"

Andromeda gasped, and it took her a second too long to compose herself. She quickly busied herself with her tea to save face and get rid of the thought of an empty home that didn't quite feel like home anymore.

Augusta reached for a scone, and cleared her throat. "My elf bakes these. Delicious, aren't they?" She showed her social smile and took a bite. She closed her eyes as she savoured the sweetness, and Andromeda couldn't help but find her motions enthralling and a welcome distraction.

Andromeda swallowed the rest of her uneasiness, taking Augusta's change of topic as a sign that she was forgiven for inviting herself to Longbottom Manor.

They busied themselves with a few rounds of polite small talk about their grandsons while enjoying scones, but eventually, they had no more shallow pleasantries to exchange.

During the past few days, Andromeda had often wondered if Augusta had ever felt overwhelmed with Neville. She was especially curious to find out how Augusta had dealt with it and how she had gotten over the guilt that came with it.

"May I ask a question about Neville?" asked Andromeda as carefully as possible, keeping a keen eye on Augusta to weigh the situation. If necessary, she would steer the conversation to a lighter topic. She wasn't as eloquent in niceties as she used to be, but she was sure she could manage. The book on her lap would serve as her gateway.

Augusta's features tensed ever so slightly, but she nodded without wasting much time.

"Were you sometimes overwhelmed with him?"

"What mother is never overwhelmed?" Augusta deflected.

Everything about how Augusta held her body screamed discomfort, but she kept her face perfectly straight. Andromeda suspected that hadn't she been raised the way she was, she never would've picked up on it. Andromeda considered backtracking, but Augusta had accepted her request to talk, and she wasn't one to let chances pass.

"Sometimes I get so angry that I yell at Teddy," Andromeda confessed in a soft voice, hoping that the little glimpse into her messy life would lessen the effect of her blatant curiosity. She clenched her hands into fists and tried to withstand Augusta's probing gaze while pushing further. "What did you do when you were angry with Neville?"

Augusta studied her face for a moment, then put her hands flat on her thighs. "Everything a mother shouldn't do." She turned her gaze towards the bookshelf, biting the inside of her cheek.

The display of uncertainty, even though subtle, was something Andromeda hadn't expected. It made her wonder who the woman behind the harsh public persona was. She was determined to figure it out. Her mother's voice echoed in her head, reminding her that curiosity would be her undoing, but she couldn't help herself.

She looked at Augusta, who was lost in thought, seemingly unperturbed that this social call had taken a turn to the uncomfortable. Andromeda didn't care, quite the opposite; she seized the opportunity to ponder her future. Andromeda pictured herself twenty years from now—lonely, bitter, and closed off because she had ruined her relationship with Teddy. A shiver ran down Andromeda's spine, and she barely managed to keep the tremor from reaching her fingers. This wasn't what she wanted her life to become. As if he had heard her thoughts, Teddy crawled towards Andromeda and pulled himself up on her leg, but she couldn't bring her arms to reach for him. She was frozen, riddled with guilt.

His frustrated whine brought Augusta out of her stupor. After a short glance in Andromeda's direction, she turned to Teddy. "Come here, lad!" said Augusta in a firm voice, mildly tinted with affection. She lifted the heavy bundle into her arms. Teddy looked at her sceptically for a moment, then scrunched up his nose. A breath later, he matched Augusta's colours. "Oh, what a treat!" Augusta exclaimed, brushing a finger through his blonde, straight hair.

It was a display that should have warmed Andromeda, but her insides were twisted. She couldn't treat the one she loved most like that. Teddy deserved more, so much more, and Nymphadora would be so angry with her. She narrowly managed to stop her eyes from welling up. Her pride didn't permit her to show such weakness in Augusta's presence. It was already bad enough that she couldn't pull herself out of her spiralling to soothe her grandson.

"Breathe," Augusta put her fingertips on Andromeda's shoulder, startling her. She moved her hand down from Andromeda's shoulder to her elbow and then let go.

Augusta's gaze was pensive and unfocused when she spoke. "I wanted to show everyone I wasn't a broken woman. I shouldered it all alone, and it made me bitter." She blinked and then looked at the vibrant orange hair of Andromeda's grinning grandson. He took great joy in the frill on Augusta's robes.

There was a vulnerability in Augusta's voice, and her candid words gave Andromeda pause. She waited with bated breath if she'd say more.

Augusta took a deep breath and searched Andromeda's gaze, considering for a moment. "Don't become a martyr. It's not worth the pain."

Martyr. Andromeda had never considered this. It felt natural to do things on her own. Her in-laws supported her to a certain extent, but Ted's parents were elderly, and his sister led a busy life, most of it in Germany. Potter helped as best as he could, but he was young and an Auror in training. She remembered from Nymphadora how taxing that was. There was not much room in his life for Teddy. Besides, she would never allow him to postpone, or worse, end his training to raise the child with her. The young man had sacrificed too much already.

Teddy wriggled in Augusta's arms and managed to lean down and grab a strand of Andromeda's hair, giving it a tug, but she barely felt the sting.

Augusta freed her hair from his grip, which made him sob. She ran her fingers over his belly and cooed, which soothed him. Once he was smiling again, she turned to Andromeda. "Do you feel like holding him?"

Andromeda got up from the armchair and shook her head. If Teddy felt her distress, he would only follow her into it and throw a massive tantrum. She had learned from such a mistake. Augusta nodded, understanding visible in her features. He gurgled happily and gestured to be let down. Once on the floor, he focused on his stuffed crocodile, and Andromeda warded him in with a flick of her wand.

Andromeda sighed while watching him. "I don't often ask for help because I don't want to impose," she said. "The last thing I want to be is a burden."

"And thus, he has become a burden for you," Augusta retorted without accusation in her tone.

Andromeda buried her face in her hands. She felt exposed by this woman who somehow managed to find all of her sore spots.

Augusta opened the window with an elegant movement of her wand. "Take a sip of tea and a few breaths of fresh air, and then we'll talk."

Andromeda welcomed the opportunity and savoured the freshness of the peppermint tea while leaning out of the window which faced the courtyard. The garden was immaculate, full of saplings that would soon bear fruit. All around were colourful, exquisite flowers, and in the small greenhouse, she spotted magical plants meandering along the metal beams. It was a sight Andromeda could get used to. An oasis in the middle of a bustling city.

Andromeda focused on slowing her frantic pulse. It would make her life easier, giving Teddy into caring hands for a few hours or even days at a time. She and Ted had done it a thousand times with Nymphadora. It had been hard to let her out of sight for the first time, but it had gotten easier each time. It had allowed her to focus on her work. She knew it had been good for her mental health and them as a couple. Although she knew perfectly well that it was not healthy to cling to him like that, it was impossible to let Teddy out of her sight. Too deeply rooted were her fears that someone would take him from her.

Once she felt steady enough not to embarrass herself in front of the hostess, Andromeda moved to sit down next to her grandson. Ever the sweetheart, he immediately came to her, pushed himself onto her lap, and reached for her wrist. Her bracelets were an endless source of fascination. She kissed him on the crown of his head.

It took a bit of courage to voice her thoughts, but Augusta had already opened up a great deal, which encouraged her. "Harry told me that Neville was angry with you." Tentatively, she searched Augusta's gaze in hopes the witch wouldn't immediately end her visit.

Augusta's face was void of emotion. Hard. But her gaze attentive, challenging her to say more.

"He told me Neville almost turned his back on you." She knew she shouldn't share those things and shouldn't pry, but she longed to dig deeper. She wanted to know so she could find the courage to take action and redirect her own path.

Augusta made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob. She ran her hand over her face, quickly schooling her features. "I had lengthy talks with Neville about this all through last year." She looked as if she was about to elaborate but reconsidered. "Do you remember the advice I gave you a fortnight ago?"

Andromeda nodded, remembering it vividly and how it had opened her eyes.

"I wanted Neville to be like Frank. I saw my late husband and son in his chubby face, and I longed to catch more glimpses. It was selfish and cruel. It was bloody McGonagall of all people that made me see reason." She pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

Compassion for Neville flooded Andromeda. It was the kind of upbringing she had had to endure. Walburga Black had been the one to aspire to. Beautiful, refined and cutting, chock-full of pure-blooded ideals. Bellatrix had come closest, and it had been the death of her. It was the kind of upbringing she'd never wanted to force on Teddy. And she wouldn't, never to that extent, at least. However, in the last week, it had struck her how much she enjoyed the similarities to Nymphadora that she spotted in him and how much she longed to see more. Many things in her household were pink and she caught herself hoping that he would morph his hair to match the shade. She had let him sleep on her chest, and while she held his hand, she had pretended it was her daughter she was holding. Andromeda clasped a hand over her mouth, horrified, ashamed.

Augusta continued, unfazed, almost ignorant. The pureblood way.

"Don't repeat my mistakes," she said sharply and shot Andromeda a piercing gaze.

Unsettled by her realisation, determination settled into Andromeda's bones. She would not become a martyr, and she would not allow herself to make Teddy her saviour. Andromeda pressed her grandson closer to her chest. He wriggled a little bit but then accepted his fate and put his hands on her wrist. "I love you, my heart. I promise you I will do better."

Augusta's expression softened considerably. "Have you ever heard of mind-healers?"

Andromeda looked at her, surprised. "Like Muggle therapists?"

Andromeda's sister-in-law had mentioned therapists when Remus had left a pregnant Nymphadora, pushing her into the darkest corners of her mind. Andromeda, unwilling to see her girl crumble, had considered making an appointment, but then he had returned and with him her colours.

Augusta nodded. "Yes, quite. Mind-healers have successful methods, combining the best of both worlds."

It piqued Andromeda's interest. For years she had known that Muggles had methods that the wizarding world could only dream of and that they urgently needed to learn from. Progress, especially after a war, was crucial. Augusta Longbottom venturing into the Muggle world, however, was something Andromeda hadn't deemed possible. The senior Macmillans had been a beacon in pure-blooded social circles. Not as purist as the Blacks or the Malfoys, much more lenient toward muggle-borns, but they had always valued magic and seen it as superior.

Augusta got up from the settee and started pacing the room. She looked agitated and excited, as if a bit of her mask had cracked. "I've been trying to get St. Mungo's to invest more galleons and time in mind-healers for more than a decade. It was selfish at first, a foolish hope that they could bring Frank and Alice back, but then I read into it, became fascinated by it." She closed her eyes for a moment schooling her features. Andromeda was disappointed because she had been fascinated by the passion she saw in her eyes.

"Not the point now," Augusta continued. "Two months ago, they finally caved and hired a healer. A bright young woman."

Carefully, Augusta placed her fingers on Andromeda's shoulder, looking at her. When Andromeda didn't flinch, she put her whole hand down. "Forgive my intrusion. I think it would be good for you to see her."

Shame coloured Andromeda's cheeks, her pride pushing to the forefront of her mind, unwilling to yield. She could do this on her own. She could change on her own. People were suffering from much more severe trauma. They should see the healer first.

Augusta tightened her grip on Andromeda's shoulder and searched her gaze. The sky blue of her eyes reminded Andromeda of another lifetime, another love. The ache, however, didn't diminish the beauty.

"I see a lot of myself in you. Proud. Determined. Stubborn. We both know that you can shoulder all of this alone, but you don't have to." She smiled a sad, knowing smile. "It's advice I wish someone had given me."

Andromeda let her gaze roam over Augusta's features, taking in the certainty and the compassion. Andromeda spotted a tenderness in the prominent curves of her face. War, it seemed, had softened Augusta. It pained Andromeda that Augusta had gone through all her hardships alone, always one step away from the abyss.

Andromeda swallowed the pride and smiled a strained smile. "And you claimed you couldn't offer any wisdom."

Augusta chuckled, albeit guarded. She held out her hand, and Andromeda took it, grateful for the extra muscle to defeat gravity.

They moved to the settee and sat down.

Augusta stopped Teddy from stealing a scone, lifted him into the space between them, summoned a toy, and pressed it into his lap. He cooed approvingly. Andromeda brushed her fingers across the warm, velvety cheek.

Her mind was trying to sort through the information, process her feelings, and figure out the next step. She searched Augusta's gaze, looking for guidance and was met with an encouraging, open expression. "May I call you Augusta?"

"Just because you damn near had a panic attack in my library doesn't mean we're chummy now," Augusta scoffed.

Andromeda wanted to look affronted, but had to smile. Augusta harboured that kind of harshness that reminded Andromeda of old friends from times when being gentle and vulnerable had not been favourable traits. It brought forth a twinge of nostalgia.

"Your pureblood is showing," teased Andromeda. She was taken with her, wanting to lure her out of that hard shell, but Augusta didn't take the bait.

She pursed her lips. "Think about the healer, Mrs Tonks. I don't need an answer today, but sooner rather than later would be appreciated."

It was a generous offer, brought forth with kindness. One meeting wouldn't hurt, Andromeda figured, and for Teddy, she simply had to try. "I'd like to see that healer, Mrs Longbottom."

The older witch smiled smugly as if she had just achieved a lifelong goal. She summoned a muggle pen and piece of paper and scribbled down the coordinates. She carefully folded it and pressed it into Andromeda's palm. "It will be good for you."

Augusta ordered Mimi to bring coffee, which they sipped in pleasant silence that was only interrupted by Teddy's babbling demands

Once the bottom of Andromeda's cup was dry, she turned to face Augusta, her thoughts going back to the first time she had seen beneath the hard shell of her.

Unlike Ted, Andromeda had never been close friends with members of the Order. They had been wary of her, and she had been wary of them. It had been the subject of marital dispute more than once, which had led to the compromise that they would not become active members—which would have been ludicrous with a child not yet in Hogwarts anyway—but would support them as much as possible. Thus, Andromeda had never been close to Alice and Frank.

Throughout the week after Frank and Alice had been tortured, Order members flocked in and out of St. Mungo's. Andromeda was reluctant to go, feeling wholly out of place, the family history lurking, but Ted urged her. So she found herself standing in the door frame, staring at the shells of those brave Aurors, shedding tears for people she barely knew. It was then that Augusta and Minerva came for a visit, and Augusta chose to unleash all her pent-up anger towards the Black family on Andromeda. Andromeda had taken it unflinchingly, with a sense of wanting to be punished because it had been her blood that had cursed them.

With great effort, Minerva had pulled the desperate Augusta out of the room. Augusta's formal apology had arrived a week later by owl, and they had met for tea and made up. That had been the last time their paths had crossed.

Augusta seemed lost in thought while she was running the tip of her finger over the gold rim of her cup.

Andromeda couldn't shake the thought of Frank and Alice. She cleared her throat, which made her gain Augusta's attention and then hesitated before she spoke. "How are Frank and Alice?"

Augusta winced, and Andromeda immediately scolded herself. She, of all people, should know better than to push directly into a mother's worst wound.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Augusta waved her hand in dismissal.

"You just caught me off guard," she said, sounding surprisingly firm, and Andromeda suspected it was a story she often had to tell. "Alice is very fond of Neville but very placid. She doesn't show many emotions, never has. Frank, on the other hand, has been volatile lately. The healers don't know if it is progress or decay."

The last word turned Andromeda's stomach. In the past week, she had often contemplated Augusta's situation, and she had always come to the conclusion that the half-lives her loved ones were living must be hellish to witness and endure. Not that she had never paid the devil a visit, but Augusta…

"What do you think?" Andromeda asked carefully. She wanted to put her hand on Augusta's to lend her some of her strength but refrained.

Augusta stared at her for a moment, then she cleared her throat. "I think—" she broke off, took a deep breath, contemplated and then lowered her gaze to Teddy. "I can't do this."

She got up so abruptly it sent Teddy into a crying fit. Andromeda lifted her grandson into her arms and rocked him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and dug his nails into her skin when he tried to hold onto her.

Andromeda put her hand on Augusta's shoulder. "You're not alone."

Augusta didn't react. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line that didn't quite manage to conceal the quiver of her lips. Gently, Andromeda put her hand on her shoulder and rubbed her arm. Augusta went rigid but then relaxed. When they took a step back, sadness was written all over Augusta's face.

"I'm a floo call away if you need me," Andromeda said gently.

Augusta nodded but stayed silent.

Andromeda apparated, giving the woman the space she would have wanted in that situation.

Throughout the rest of the day, she couldn't get past the thought that she was intrigued by Augusta and eager to see her again. She refrained from writing her a letter, though, because she didn't want to rush Augusta. She would contact Andromeda, should she need her.

Chapter 3

Andromeda took Teddy with her to her first session with the mind-healer. Sophia was a kind and witty woman with a sharp tongue. It was the type of person Andromeda had no trouble getting along with. Sophia created an atmosphere that had immediately put Andromeda at ease. Feeling comfortable in her presence, talking about what was troubling her was surprisingly easy.

Codependency is what the therapist called Andromeda's inability to leave Teddy out of her sight. Andromeda snorted. How could she possibly depend on a baby?

It wasn't until she was in bed, exhausted from therapy and from Teddy throwing tantrum after tantrum, that she admitted to herself that the term rang true. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist. Yes, she needed Teddy, he was a vital aspect for her happiness, but no, he couldn't become her saving grace. Merlin, he deserved better. A small part of her consciousness repeatedly tried to tell her that she, too, deserved more out of life than mothering a child day in and day out, but she never listened.

A few days after her first therapy session, Andromeda received a letter from Augusta inquiring about her well-being. Attached was an invitation for a late lunch in an upscale restaurant. She dreaded the stiff atmosphere but was looking forward to seeing Augusta again.

During the past days, her thoughts had often circled back to Frank and Alice, and Augusta's obvious pain. So receiving her letter came as a relief.

Andromeda reread the address of the restaurant and chuckled. This time she wouldn't break the dress code.

The lunch date was the perfect opportunity for Andromeda to face her fears and let Teddy out of her sight for a few hours. The thought had given her a sleepless night, and while she readied Teddy for his outing, her mind went through all the things that could go wrong.

Luckily, the doorbell saved her from further spiralling, and the walk to the front door allowed her to completely snap out of it.

Harry, accompanied by Hermione Granger, arrived five minutes before the scheduled pick-up time, which she honoured with a nod. Harry was wringing his hands in front of him, and she guessed he wasn't faring much better than she was, which strained her nerves even more. Fortunately, Hermione Granger seemed unfazed, wearing an easy smile on her lips. Andromeda quelled the ridiculous suspicion that the girl could be putting up an act.

Teddy held out his hands, trying to free himself from her embrace, eager to crawl into his godfather's arms. Although the two didn't spend that much time together, Teddy was smitten with Harry. Andromeda suspected why. While she shielded Teddy from any form of danger, Harry roughhoused with him, spun him around, and let him explore in the grass, the woods, and the water. He did everything Andromeda knew was necessary for Teddy's development, but it was everything her hands and mind didn't allow her to do. It had always used an enormous amount of self-restraint not to interfere when he fell onto his bum or walked too close to the water while on Harry's watch.

Harry beamed. He lifted the boy out of her arms and cuddled him. "We're going to the zoo, mate."

Hermione frowned. Andromeda remembered Dora's recounting of the younger witch's S.P.E.W. adventure. She nudged her. "Not a fan of caged animals?" she joked, grinning.

Hermione sighed heavily, a hint of a smile gracing her features. "Not at all," she said, turning to stroke Teddy's back. "For this one, I can make an exception."

Andromeda picked up the last of Teddy's things and packed them neatly into the backpack Harry had given him, even though Teddy was still years too small to wear it.

Hermione shrunk it and put it in her bag.

When it was time to say goodbye, her heart sank, the good resolutions evaporated, and fear rained down on her. She closed her eyes, remembering one of the grounding techniques Sophia had taught her. While she tapped her clavicles, she told herself that she could let him go, that he was safe with Hermione and Harry. Andromeda looked at them again, taking in their young faces, which were tired from living through a war but eager to live. They were so terribly young, and she had to remind herself that she hadn’t been much older when she had been pregnant with Nymphadora. They would take great care of him. Never would they let any harm come near him.

She took a deep breath and asked, "Can I hold him once more?"

Harry handed her the baby, but Teddy didn't take kindly to the decision, pushing himself away from Andromeda and wailing.

"It's okay," she said and quickly kissed his hair before giving him back to Harry. "Have fun, my heart."

"Hawa!" He screamed.

To Andromeda's relief, it didn't take Harry long to calm him down, and moments later, they disappeared in green flames.

Andromeda breathed in and out a few times, squashing the queasiness and then dressed for her outing with Augusta. On her way to the restaurant, the uneasiness of not having Teddy close came and went in waves but eased remarkably when she entered the location.

The restaurant wasn't too crowded. Andromeda suspected that many people favoured spending the time in a park or by the water enjoying the sun. She spotted Augusta at a table in the back of the restaurant. She was brooding over what looked like a thick report, fiddling with the pen in her fingers. When she spotted Andromeda, she swiftly let the papers disappear into her satchel and got up to greet her.

"Mrs Tonks! Alone, I see!"

Andromeda took the jab with a chuckle. "Yes. The young woman at St. Mungo's was rather persistent."

Augusta put her hand on her left biceps—Andromeda barely felt her touch—and gave her two air kisses. It was a shallow high society greeting. A display of fake affection. It was a greeting Andromeda had always despised. Despite the space between them, Andromeda noticed how Augusta smelled like a flower garden in bloom blended with notes of citrus. It was a smell Andromeda couldn't help but appreciate. She inhaled once more and then took a step towards her chair.

Her bum had barely touched the chair when the attentive waitress came over, presenting today's specials.

As soon as the iced tea was served, Augusta eyed her curiously. "So, how did your first appointment go?"

Unwilling to give in to her bidding this quickly, Andromeda decided to change the rules in her favour. In her youth, such games had annoyed her, but it brought her great joy with her challenging adversary. "Only if you allow me to call you by your first name."

"Did you bury all sense of propriety along with your maiden name?" Augusta asked, no amusement whatsoever showing on her face.

Andromeda couldn't tell if she didn't feel any or was masking it well. She studied her face for a moment, piercing her with her gaze, hoping to get anything out of her, but the woman remained stoic.

Augusta smugly leaned back and crossed her arms. "I've been playing this game for a lot longer than you have, Mrs Tonks." She paused for effect, her eyes never leaving Andromeda's. It was so intense it was almost unsettling, and it warmed her cheeks.

"For once, I'm letting you win a round. But only because I like the sound of your name, Andromeda."

"A win is a win, Augusta," Andromeda answered, letting her syllables flow effortlessly across her lips.

"How was your session, Andromeda?" Augusta picked the conversation up without letting any time pass. Andromeda found her unashamed eagerness very intriguing.

"It went well," Andromeda answered truthfully. "It felt good to confide in someone that doesn't judge. I have to spend at least two hours away from Teddy until my next appointment." She glanced at the silver watch on her wrist. "One hour left to go."

Augusta chuckled. "Isn't it liberating, leaving him in capable hands?"

"It makes me feel…" She wanted to add more, but she wasn't sure if she felt less or more burdened without Teddy. Time would answer that question for her. "Harry and Hermione took him to the zoo."

"Then he is well taken care of," Augusta said. "Like Neville, they are wise and capable beyond their age. It's a pity that the war has left traces on their plump faces and sharp minds."

Andromeda nodded solemnly. She had lost count of how many dreamless sleep potions and calming draughts she had brewed for Harry and his friends. She sighed heavily and was about to put her face in her hands to take a few breaths when Augusta cleared her throat.

"Tell me, how did you end up in the lion's den?"

Augusta was an excellent conversationalist, and Andromeda welcomed the change of topic to a lighter one. She had been wondering about the question before. Especially because most of those Gryffindors were more than two decades her junior or sported flaming red hair. Most of her Slytherin friends had turned into foes and now lay six feet under. The rest had been shunning her for three decades. There was her sister and her family, of course, but that was a whole other story. One she didn't feel like diving into.

"Aren't we a little old for House politics?" She countered, amusement in her voice, curious to test Augusta's humour.

"Point taken." Much to Andromeda's delight, Augusta smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Neville is dating a Hufflepuff. She's a lovely young woman. That's all that matters." There was a fondness on her face that Andromeda hadn't yet seen.

"They are a lovely lot. Often too loyal for their own good." Andromeda smiled wistfully. Her throat began to feel tight and dry, and the honeyed tea didn't help get rid of the scratch. On some days, the war seemed very far away, and on other days she felt as raw as on the day she had received the news of Ted's death. This had been the beginning of the end of the world as she knew it.

A plate of delicacies saved her from dwelling on the two badgers she still loved and missed dearly. Andromeda immediately loaded her fork. Augusta mirrored her, but unlike Andromeda, she didn't start to eat.

Feeling uneasy being the only one chewing, Andromeda quickly swallowed the bite and didn't take another one, searching Augusta's face. She seemed tenser than usual, the muscles in her jaw clenched.

The older witch folded her hands on the table and lifted her gaze to meet Andromeda's.

"I admire you. You take change in stride."

Andromeda shot her a bemused gaze. She had never considered herself this easy to read, but she seemed to be translucent to this woman. "I've learned the hard way to live my life day by day. Life has a tendency to throw hardships my way," she said drily. "Looking at you, I don't think we're that much different."

Andromeda took in how different Augusta looked when she didn't wear heavy robes. It made her seem approachable, more in tune with the time they were living in. Andromeda's gaze caught on the collar of the burgundy-coloured silk blouse.

Augusta followed her gaze and self-consciously put her hand on the small part of her cleavage that was exposed. "My clothes…" She trailed off and played with the gold necklace that adorned her neck, running her thumb and index finger along the delicate chain. "They were my armour," she said in a low voice and paused again. She looked as if she was fighting herself to speak—or to stay silent. Andromeda couldn't quite tell.

This time she wouldn't pressure Augusta, and so she said, "You don't have to elaborate." And then lowered her gaze to the food on her plate.

They ate their meal in a silence that didn't feel as comfortable as Andromeda would have liked. She stole glances at Augusta, who was more often than not looking distracted and ate very slowly. Andromeda had almost finished her meal when Augusta let the spoon clatter against the fine china, causing Andromeda to look up.

"I started building my armour when Frank Junior joined the Aurors," she spoke abruptly and in a voice that was firmer than Andromeda had expected. "When my husband died, I wanted to disappear in a pile of fabric, and then Frank was hurt…Clothes became my fortress. For decades I didn't realise how destructive that was."

Augusta breathed in deeply, eyes downcast on her hand. Andromeda spotted the golden band, adorned with a diamond, and looked at her own bare hand, only a faint imprint giving away that there had once been a ring. She had taken it off in a fit of anger, directed at life and the world, and never put it back on. Andromeda absentmindedly rubbed the spot with her thumb.

"It was Hannah, Neville's girlfriend, who helped me look at my life and actions from a different perspective," Augusta continued, a small smile settling on her face.

"How so?" Andromeda asked, looking at her over the rim of her glass, enjoying how the witch's face had lit up.

"She reminded me that community and belonging are important and healthy. That I should go out more and live more. I didn't want to hear any of it, of course. Why should I listen to a young girl? She was insistent to the point that embarrassed Neville. Little did he know that this convinced me that she was the perfect woman for him." She smiled fondly—a broad smile that reached her eyes. Andromeda wanted to put her hand on her cheek and caress the crinkles.

"Eventually, I started to reflect on my life." Augusta swallowed thickly. She took a mouthful of gazpacho. She looked pensive, and Andromeda gave her time to gather her thoughts, politely focussing on the napkin on her lap.

Augusta cleared her throat. "The last time I wore layers of robes was when I fought in the war."

"I didn't know you fought," Andromeda said, only mildly surprised. She knew the woman had bite and a temperament. What surprised her more was how easily she was sharing things. It seemed as if now that the formalities and pleasantries were out of the way, they had reached a new level of trust. It was a level she enjoyed immensely.

Augusta shrugged, almost looking offended. "I'm an excellent dueller. Gave Dawlish a run for his money." She broke off a piece of bread, shoved it into her mouth brusquely, somewhat tactlessly, and smiled smugly.

"Skilled senior Auror Dawlish?" Andromeda asked incredulously. Nymphadora had told her many tales about the ruthless Auror.

Augusta waved a hand as if defeating him had been simpler than buttering a piece of toast. "The prick tried to arrest me in 1997 because of Neville's involvement in the war, but we couldn't let that happen, could we?"

Impressed by Augusta's skill and amused by her choice of words, Andromeda laughed. "The whole Auror squad used to call him a prick behind his back."

For a moment, Augusta joined in the laughter but then turned solemn. "When I heard about the Battle, I just had to go. For Neville."

A wave of guilt rolled over Andromeda. She put her hand on her thigh, squeezing tightly, taking solace in the sting of her nails. Andromeda had been busy brewing healing potions and minding a baby and two toddlers during the battle. She often contemplated if she would have been able to make a difference had she raised her wand.

"You're drifting," Augusta said gently. Andromeda couldn't tell how much time had passed, but judging by the worry on Augusta's face, it must have been a while.

"Neville told me of the important role you played during those crucial hours. You saved many lives."

Andromeda nodded stiffly. She had saved lives but not those she wished she could have saved. "It's just…" she trailed off, unable to voice the thought. One life shouldn't be worth more than another, but her daughter…

"Do you wish you would have fought?"

Andromeda shook her head and waved her hand. The gesture was languid, delivered without care. "I'm not a fighter," she said. Which was true, duelling hadn't been her forte, but it was also due to her being unwilling to fight the ones she had once called family. Andromeda spotted understanding in Augusta's eyes.

"I apologise. I shouldn't have mentioned the war," Augusta said after a few moments of tense silence.

Andromeda shook her head. "I have to acknowledge it. Even if it hurts," she said, surprised by how comfortable she felt in Augusta's presence.

Augusta nodded and took a slow sip of tea. "It took another war to make me realise I had to reclaim my life. And here you are, seeing that mind-healer within two weeks of me mentioning it."

"That's different," Andromeda said, still somewhat lost in thought of the war. "You changed for yourself. I yielded for Teddy's sake, which is easier because I don't want to be his broken grandmother. He deserves more."

"You deserve more," Augusta said without missing a beat. "We are more than widowed grandmothers."

There was urgency in her voice as if she wanted to make sure the words rooted themselves into Andromeda's mind. She must have looked lost because Augusta shot her a meaningful glance and straightened her back.

"There's colour behind the grey curtain of grief, Andromeda."

Andromeda had to trudge through a hint of sadness about the 'where would I be were they still alive' and had to remind herself that she wouldn't be sitting opposite this woman. It gave her a twinge of sadness. Andromeda hadn't been this intrigued by a person in a long time.

Augusta slowly moved her hand towards Andromeda's, giving her ample time to retract her hand, but Andromeda had no intention to do so. Gentle as if afraid she could hurt her, Augusta put her fingers on the back of her hand and moved them to her knuckles, caressing them. Andromeda sighed, feeling content, relishing the touch of the warm, soft pads of her fingers.

Their eyes met, and then Augusta broke the moment, retrieved her hand and focused on her food. Andromeda followed suit. Once they were done eating, they shared baby stories of Neville and Teddy, during which they expertly danced around all of Andromeda's issues with renewed baby rearing.

As suspected, little Neville had been a placid baby, one Augusta had feared was a squib.

"We coaxed him and nudged him, but he just wouldn't use his magic. I was beyond relieved when the letter came." Her voice was exasperated but laced with an amusement that could only have been attained years after the incident.

"Not fond of Muggles?" Andromeda quipped with a smirk. The Muggle card was one she played with every pureblood she met to test them, and it so often led to heated debates.

"Don't be silly. The Macmillans were never as prejudiced as your lot," Augusta countered with a vague gesture towards Andromeda. "It would just have complicated things."

Andromeda sighed, remembering the countless accidents Nymphadora had had with accidental magic and how many times she had wished for her to have been born without it. "I envy you. It makes for a calmer childhood. Nymphadora's accidental magic was like a ticking time bomb. It kept me on my toes. I fear Teddy won't be much better."

Augusta shot her a sympathetic look. "Only for a few years, and then you can send the little rascal off to McGonagall." The thought seemed to bring her great joy.

"What is it with you and Minerva?" Andromeda asked. She had always been fond of the stern professor and her impeccable talent and was surprised that some people disliked her.

Augusta waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "An old school rivalry."

Andromeda suspected there was more to it, and it almost tore her apart to hear the whole story, but Augusta's answer was clear. She would not get more out of her today.

Augusta waved for the waitress. After a quick quarrel over who would settle the bill—Augusta claiming that she would never take money from a war widow, which had made Andromeda chuckle despite the ache—they found themselves standing outside the restaurant bathing in the warm sunshine.

Andromeda turned to Augusta, ready to bid her goodbye when Augusta grabbed her hand in an iron grip. "Let's meet again soon, yes?"

"Of course," Andromeda answered, feeling warm at the thought and startled by the urgency in her voice.

Only when she was standing alone in the street that Andromeda realised three hours had passed and she hadn't missed Teddy. She couldn't shake the thought that she should send Augusta a card thanking her for this.

She apparated home, and during the hour she waited for the young ones to return, felt the strain of not having Teddy by her side settle over her. She didn't quite know what to do with her thoughts and hands when he wasn't around. Eventually, Andromeda settled for a book but had to read every page twice to understand the content. When she couldn't take it anymore, she started cleaning. A glance at the clock confirmed that they should return any moment now. When the floo stayed dark, she became queasy and furiously scrubbed the kitchen sink.

Her fingertips were saved from becoming bloody by the teenagers who stumbled into her living room. Andromeda was by the floo in a heartbeat, eagerly holding out her hands.

Hermione gently unwrapped Teddy from her scarf and gave him to Andromeda. She pressed him against her chest and inhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry, Andie, we lost track of time. He was so engrossed in the flamingos," Hermione said.

"He has an odd love for birds," she said in a soft voice.

With Teddy snuggled into her arms, Andromeda could breathe easier. She rocked him and cooed. Teddy patted her face for a moment and then sighed deeply and fell asleep. Andromeda kissed his hair, endeared by the red tint of his cheeks.

Hermione snorted. "We couldn't make him sleep all day long."

Harry nudged Hermione in the ribs, which made her yelp, but she quickly gathered herself. "We're not Andie, Hermione. And he was so excited."

Andromeda's heart warmed. Feeling reassured that the two of them were excellent guardians, she decided that she would give Teddy to them more often—or at least she would try. Now that he was warm against her, nestled against her, it was hard to imagine ever having to let him go again.

"Did you enjoy your lunch with Neville's Gran?" Harry asked, grinning. "She's a lot less scary without the vulture hat. I think even Neville can breathe in her presence now."

Hermione shot him an annoyed look. "Don't speak ill of her. She funds a lot of St. Mungo's research."

Andromeda smiled fondly, storing this piece of information in the back of her mind for their next conversation. "Once you manage to scratch that hard surface of hers, she's wonderful company. A truly intriguing woman."

Hermione nodded eagerly, looking excited. "I had a vivid discussion about magical creature rights with her a few months ago."

Andromeda snorted, imagining Augusta's exasperated face and dry tone. "And how did that go?"

Hermione waved her off with a grin. "As expected. She's changed, but I think there are some prejudices she won't be able to get over in this lifetime. Neville is paying her house-elf."

Andromeda laughed heartily, which caused Teddy to stir. Andromeda brushed her fingertips over his cheeks and put him down on the couch, commanding a few cushions to protect him from falling off.

Hermione sat next to him and gently caressed his thigh.

Andromeda pressed her hand to her hips and shot Hermione a loving glance. "Never say never about change, dear."

"What are you on about?" Harry chimed in from the kitchen. He was raiding her fridge for leftover pie. If the man had a vice, it was sugary treats and baked goods. He returned with a generous slice of apple pie and sat down next to Hermione. At least he had bothered with a plate. She rolled her eyes at him for good measure, but he only winked and started to eat.

Andromeda ran a hand through her loose curls and then brushed them behind her ear. "It's not easy to get rid of mindsets that have been drilled into you since birth. It took me years to work through them. As for Augusta…" she took a breath, unsure if she should speak so openly about the witch, but she had never held back in Hermione and Harry's presence. Despite the age difference, she considered them friends. "Don't underestimate what grief does to a person."

Both her guests stared at their feet. In moments like this, it became painfully obvious how young they were, that the experience gap between them was hard to bridge. They were war veterans who had gone through immense hardship and pain, but they didn't have to live through total devastation. She didn't blame them for not knowing how to react. She patted Harry's shoulder and then put a hand on Hermione's cheek, running her thumb over her skin. She swallowed thickly. Another beautiful soul her sister had damaged.

"Don't let an old woman's ramblings tear you down. All I'm saying is that you need to be patient with witches like us."

"I get it," Hermione said, meeting her eyes. "Professor McGonagall once took me aside and told me that change needs time and that it often doesn't come at the first try."

"The professor is a wise woman. I think Augusta has come a long way. She wore trousers the other day." Andromeda winked when Harry choked on a bite of pie.

Harry swallowed with effort, ignoring the poignant look Hermione shot him and chuckled. "I'm sure Hannah took her shopping. I'll have to ask her about that."

Fondness for Hannah settled into Andromeda's heart. It was comforting to see how the young people continued to work on changing their society for the better.

They told Andromeda more about their visit to the zoo and gave her a couple of polaroid pictures, which she regarded fondly. She enjoyed the look and atmosphere of static muggle photographs. She would add them to her photo album later. Once their tea was drunk and Harry had helped himself to a second piece of pie, which he graciously shared with Hermione, they stood to leave.

Harry kissed her cheek. "Thanks for letting us have him."

Hermione reached out her hand, but Andromeda drew her into a hug.

Once she was alone, she focused on Teddy. She caressed his belly gently enough as to not wake him. "Maybe it's time to give you to Harry until you're comfortable falling asleep in his arms as well."

Maybe it was time for her to fully move out of her comfort zone. Her thoughts went back to Augusta and how her face had been bright with laughter when she had paid that bill. She was a beautiful, enthralling woman. She was the kind of company Andromeda enjoyed immensely and had missed during the past year. Andromeda was drawn to her. A small part in the back of her mind told her that she had felt the same way with Ted decades ago. It was a heady mix of infatuation and curiosity.

Andromeda wrote Augusta a letter thanking her for the lovely afternoon and for being such good company. The witch replied an hour later, wishing her a good night and that she was always there for her. Andromeda tucked the letter into her diary.

Yes, it was time to break out of her comfort zone. At least a little bit.

Chapter 4

As summer bled into autumn, Andromeda's therapy sessions became more and more draining. Despite Andromeda's best efforts to keep the focus on her relationship with Teddy, Sophia had finally managed to steer it towards Nymphadora. What Andromeda felt for Nymphadora was a complicated web of pain and love. Together, they waded through it throughout several sessions. Sophia tugged and twisted, untangled and questioned. It hurt. So much. At the same time, it was liberating to talk about her daughter. About the beautiful moments she's had with her. About love she felt and didn't know what to do with it but smother Teddy. About the anger. Anger directed at Nymphadora for fighting and dying. About the grief that was constantly eating away at her heart and sanity. Andromeda wanted to yell and cry. Sophia encouraged her to do so, and eventually, she broke, and it was the rawest Andromeda had felt since their deaths. She was stripped of all her defences, all her excuses. It was the turning point. Two sessions later, Andromeda finally felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

Letting go of Teddy became more manageable as the weeks passed. Harry had asked her if he could take him for the night, but Andromeda wasn't ready for that. "Perhaps in a few weeks," she had placated, "When he isn't teething."

Naturally, he had seen right through her cheap excuse. He opened his mouth to protest, but, in the end, let it go like the respectful young man he was. Or perhaps it was because she had fixed him with her sternest glare.

The letters between her and Augusta became longer and longer. They tried to meet as often as possible, but Augusta was an incredibly busy witch. Augusta was knee-deep into a new proposal for St. Mungo's. What she had planned was a mystery to Andromeda. The tidbits Andromeda had been able to coax out of her had not nearly been enough to piece the puzzle together. What Augusta let slip was that she had started working on the most important part of her mystery proposal long before the war. Some of Augusta's ideas had been accepted and executed in the last decade, but they had all been abandoned or put on hold when the Ministry fell. Augusta had started tirelessly working on it again the moment the war was won, but the path turned out to be rockier than expected. Andromeda had negotiated that Augusta would reveal her plans as soon as the proposal was approved by the board of governors.

Not once had Augusta talked about Frank in her letters. Augusta was as secretive as she was determined, as stubborn as she was lively. Traits that simultaneously lured Andromeda and drove her up the walls.

Despite this, their companionship slowly grew into a tender friendship. It became easier for Andromeda to talk to her about her fears and regrets, and she felt that Augusta slowly began to share more as well. After each of their meetings, Andromeda felt a little more drawn to her, and it began to thrill her. She felt this inner urge to want to be close to her, and the more time passed, the stronger it became.

After another draining session with Sophia, Andromeda exited the room only to lean against the concrete wall next to it and close her eyes. Her emotions were all over the place, and her heart was aching. They had spent the session talking about Ted and love, and it had left her with more questions than answers. She put her hand on her chest and tried to breathe evenly. Apparating like this would only cause splinching.

"Andromeda," a soft yet stern voice said, accelerating her heart rate further. She hadn't seen Augusta in over a week. She had planned to write to her after her session to tell her about it.

When she opened her eyes, Andromeda's gaze caught on Augusta's mouth, which was curled into a smile. Her lips were void of lipstick, the perfect shade of pink and Andromeda spotted the fine lines surrounding them. Beautiful signs of a life filled with genuine emotion.

"I'm sorry for cornering you like this," Augusta said, sounding unsure. "I was close by and remembered you'd be here right now. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Andromeda wanted to, she really did, but she was exhausted and feared she'd be lousy company. It had become her habit to soak in the tub while reading a novel to soothe herself and relax after a session. She longed to do that, but something about Augusta was off, and it unsettled her.

Augusta's demeanour was less confident than usual, her spine less straight. Her expression was bright, but upon closer inspection, the smile was a social one that did not quite reach her eyes. Andromeda touched her arm.

"Is everything okay?" Andromeda asked carefully.

Augusta waved her hand and shook her head. "Just exhausted. I was fretting over a report for the better part of the night."

Her expression betrayed her, but Andromeda let her get away with the excuse—a St. Mungo's hallway was hardly the place for a heartfelt exchange.

"Let's go for tea," she said, turning on her heel. She knew just the place for sweet treats and a quiet chat.

Andromeda waited for Augusta to follow, but the witch was glued to the spot.

"Augusta?"

Blue eyes met hers, piercing into her. "Would you accompany me to visit Frank and Alice?" The strain in her voice was palpable. Never had Andromeda seen Augusta so insecure. It made her look fragile, and it startled Andromeda.

The air became heavy around them, the silence weighing down, but Andromeda didn't know what to say. It felt intrusive to tag along, yet her words had sounded like a plea. A call for help. It was an invitation into Augusta's life, into the part that Andromeda was so curious about. The possibility of getting to know Augusta on such a personal level intrigued her.

At the same time, she was wary of witnessing Augusta's grief, not sure if she could offer her a shoulder to lean on should she have to and afraid that Augusta's pain would send her spiralling into her own. Their tender friendship did not seem stable enough to bear the turmoil of such deep sorrow. But how could she say no, when Augusta needed her? She knew well enough how isolating and painful it was having to cope with everything alone.

"Okay," Andromeda managed, her voice not half as steady as she would have wished.

Augusta nodded solemnly. "I'd like to see them now," she said after a few breaths, in a firm voice that sounded awfully fake. Andromeda realised it must have cost her a great deal of courage to ask Andromeda to join her.

Andromeda furrowed her brow. The session still lingered in her bones, and she would have preferred to go after a fortifying, caffeinated brew and a bit of fresh air.

Augusta looked at her expectantly, and after a moment of thought, Andromeda nodded. She could do this. She could be strong for her friend.

Augusta clenched her jaw and then led the way to the lifts. While waiting for it, she nervously wrung her hands in front of her. Andromeda put a hand on her wrist, squeezing lightly, which luckily seemed to help Augusta relax.

During the ride, Andromeda tried her best to prepare herself for what she was about to witness. Frank and Alice's void and glossy gazes were still stuck in her mind, and she suspected that the years hadn't been kind to them. She thought about the look of absolute hatred Augusta had shot her that fateful evening. She shivered lightly and lifted her gaze to look at Augusta, to reassure herself that while she was brash and often seemed cold, she was a kind woman. Augusta looked lost in thought and seemed as determined to brace herself as Andromeda.

The door opened to a cool corridor with powder blue walls. A whiff of disinfectant potions and herbal concoctions reached her nostrils. In Andromeda's opinion, the Janus Thickey ward was the worst place in St. Mungo's because the patients often had no chance of healing. It was a hopeless place of imprisoned souls, and no one really cared for them.

They walked in silence through the long, eerily silent corridor. Only their steps and some hushed voices were audible.

Augusta stopped in front of a door on which a children's drawing hung. She put her palm on the paper and caressed it lightly, "Neville's work. Some fifteen years ago," she said, took a deep breath and then pushed the door open, revealing a small but light-flooded room.

Wards danced across Andromeda's skin, probing and tickling her, but they let her enter without hesitation. She lingered by the door, her legs not willing to carry her further, and observed Augusta approach her son.

"Hello, my darling," Augusta greeted him.

Frank was hesitant at first. He looked at her with a confused expression but eventually stepped closer and hugged his mother. He was at least two heads taller than her, and so he leaned down to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

Andromeda couldn't suppress the gasp. Jealousy, unbidden and burning, rose in her chest, crawled up her throat. She tried to choke it down but couldn't, and it made her want to lash out at the universe. Her hands closed around the air as she wished she could pull Nymphadora into a tight embrace, feel her warmth and inhale her scent. She closed her eyes and tapped her fingers against her collarbones as she tried to breathe through the influx of feelings. Augusta deserved her empathy and not jealousy. She deserved her support and not her anger. After a moment, the tightness in her chest loosened, and she dared to open her eyes again.

Frank was letting go of Augusta. Augusta looked at him for a long while before she shook her head and went over to greet Alice who was sitting on her bed, playing with her long, auburn hair.

Frank ogled Andromeda but stayed in his spot. She took a few tentative steps towards him, forcing a smile on her face. "Hello, Frank," she said gently. He kept looking at her, but it felt as if he were staring right through her. His hair was streaked with grey, and his face haggard. Gone was the plumpness of his cheeks and the rosy tint. He looked hollow. He looked lost, and it tore at Andromeda's heart.

"Hmm," he said, cocking his head for a moment and then turning around. He walked right past his mother and sat down on the narrow bed, staring at the blank wall.

Augusta spoke quietly to Alice. She caressed her shoulders, but her daughter-in-law stayed stoic, her fingers twirling strand after strand between her fingers. Andromeda was about to approach them, feeling silly for not greeting Alice earlier, but Augusta abruptly turned. She came towards Andromeda in a heavy gait, looking as if she was on the brink of vomiting. Andromeda was by her side in two strides, daring to brush a hand along her arm and resting it on her biceps.

Augusta leaned against her palm. "You asked how they were doing. Now you know." Her voice was trembling. The imposing, proud woman looked like she was going to falter at any moment. Andromeda knew it was the look of someone that had pain woven into every fibre of their being. She sometimes saw it in the floor-length mirror when she stared at herself.

Andromeda was at a loss for words. 'I'm sorry' didn't do the situation justice. It never did. She knew from experience that 'I'm sorry' did nothing to lessen the anguish and only fueled anger.

"How can I help?" she asked once her tongue was working again. This was the question she always wanted to hear, which was rarely uttered.

"I need some air," Augusta said, pushing past her going straight to the door.

"Don't you want to say goodbye?" Andromeda grabbed her hand, holding her back lightly without forcing her. Her skin was cold and sweaty.

Augusta gave her a watery smile and then looked at the two again. "They won't realise," she whispered, and it sounded so defeated it made Andromeda's heart stutter.

She tightened her hold on Augusta's hand. "Let's go have a warm beverage."

They only made it halfway through the hallway before Augusta stopped, tugging at Andromeda's hand.

Augusta looked at her as if she were searching for something. "Whenever I visit, I hope he'll recognise me." She sucked in a breath, her eyes restlessly roaming over Andromeda's face and the hallway behind her. "What a fool I am. It's been more than two decades," she added, voice less firm, shielding her eyes with her hand, shame colouring her cheeks.

When Andromeda saw this strong woman crumble right in front of her in the middle of a hallway, Andromeda didn't know what to do but grab her upper arms. "He recognises you," she whispered, her voice laced with despair. How could Augusta not see that?

Augusta stared at her. "What?"

"He hugged you."

Seeing Augusta Longbottom sniffle was not something she had ever thought of witnessing, especially not in public, but Andromeda had come to learn that grief played the cruellest games and crept up in the worst moments.

"The first time he hugged me, I was…" Augusta shook her head and took a breath. "He hugs everyone he sees regularly."

Andromeda's stomach sank. She threw caution in the wind and pulled the delicate witch into her arms. At first, Augusta hesitated and went rigid, but then she leaned against her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

Andromeda was so sure he recognised Augusta. How could he not? She had carried and nurtured him. She was his mother. "He knows you."

Augusta inhaled shakily. "You're clinging to a foolish amount of naivety," she said, sounding bitter and defeated.

Andromeda felt a cool shiver. She had overstepped. It dawned on her that for all the loss she's known in life, she had no clue about Augusta's situation. The witch in her arms was trembling, and judging by the way her temples contracted and arched, she was trying to hold back her tears.

Andromeda felt helpless, but there was one thing she could do—get her out of this place and allow her to grief in private.

"Let me apparate you home."

Augusta nodded, and Andromeda tightened her embrace. Moments later, they landed in the middle of the library at Longbottom Manor.

Augusta made a beeline for the desk and emptied her stomach into the silver bin next to it. Andromeda knew it wasn't due to the apparition. She contemplated leaving, allowing her to save face. At least as far as that was still possible. They had muddled the lines between polite and real friendship minutes ago, and there was no turning back. Since Augusta hadn't shown any sign of discomfort about her presence, she chose to stay but turned her back and looked out of the window to give her some semblance of privacy while she composed herself.

Seeing Augusta's agony painted a sombre picture of Andromeda's future. Andromeda had always known that the pain would never leave, but she had hoped the despair would become more bearable. Her bones felt heavy and her muscles limp. She leaned heavily against the bookcase, thankful for the sturdy wood keeping her upright.

When Andromeda heard Augusta sigh, she turned to face her.

Augusta leaned against the desk, gaze pensive, breathing heavily, cheeks red. Andromeda couldn't tell if it was because she was ashamed or agitated.

"I shouldn't have pried," Andromeda said carefully, giving her the time to push her away should she want to be alone.

Augusta made a dismissive gesture that was delivered without energy. "I used to visit him almost daily, always filled with fresh hope, and now I barely manage to go once a month." She paused, playing with a pile of parchment, running her thumb through the stack. "Whenever I open that door, all my wounds are ripped open." She lifted her gaze and met Andromeda's. "I envy you. You can heal. "

It was Andromeda's turn to have her stomach turned. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, trying to breathe through the nausea. After a few breaths, all the jealousy from before flared up and mixed with anger.

"You can hug your child, Augusta!" she said in a biting tone, not shielding the emotions that flickered over her face. She would let Augusta see the pain.

"That's the gist, Andromeda," Augusta snapped, without wasting a second, emphasis on her name, "That's not Frank. My son died that night." Angrily, she wiped the stray tears from her pale cheeks.

Andromeda straightened up, moved a few steps away from the bookshelf, and pointed at herself. "Do you think I close my eyes at night and think all is well?"

Augusta huffed out a breath. "Don't take me for a fool, of course not! But you will heal!"

Andromeda almost laughed. She knew nothing about Augusta's situation, but it seemed she was just as bad at assessing Andromeda's. Her wounds were bleeding, itching, aching. There was no scar tissue, and every time she looked at her sweet, orphaned grandson, the frail skin that had tried to cover the cleft ripped.

"There's nothing worse than a dead child, Augusta," she said, voice wobbly, thoughts lingering on the day she had touched her daughter's cold cheek.

"I'm not going to argue with you! We both know we've lost it all," Augusta hissed and smashed her hands on the mahogany desk, making Andromeda flinch, and then stood rigid, not a muscle twitching.

Andromeda, sufficiently chastised by Augusta's outburst, barely dared to open her mouth. "Augusta?"

Andromeda stepped closer, tapping her shoulder, feeling relieved when she turned to face her, and there was no anger on her face. The resignation she saw, however, was no remedy for her inner turmoil.

Augusta opened her mouth but closed it again, pressing her lips into a fine line. She grabbed Andromeda's wrist and held on so tightly it hurt Andromeda. Her eyes welled up, but she stayed silent, visibly restraining herself.

"You can talk to me," Andromeda said, bracing herself, carefully trying to help her lower her guard. Sophia had taught her many things, and being open and genuine about her feelings was one step closer to achieving some semblance of normalcy. She wanted to create that same safe space for Augusta.

In a motion so unexpected, Andromeda had to take a step back to keep the balance, Augusta buried her face in Andromeda's chest. "Sometimes I see myself pointing my wand at him, and I—" Augusta made a pained noise.

Her words chilled Andromeda to the bone. Tears burned in her eyes. Memories of Nymphadora nestling close to her chest, her tiny ear pressed to her heart, came to her mind. She would give anything to embrace her daughter once more, and this woman… She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was her friend in her arms, and she had asked Andromeda for support and opened up to her.

"Help me understand," Andromeda demanded once she had gathered herself, desperately trying to keep the judgement out of her voice, having to battle her tongue to move.

Augusta freed herself from the embrace and looked at her. "I'm tired, Andromeda. I've been trying to make a change for years, but it just never ends."

Andromeda tried to interpret what she had said, but before she could dwell on it further, the woman in front of her crumbled. For the first time, Andromeda saw Augusta completely unguarded, making it hard to breathe. Tears rolled down Augusta's cheeks, leaving a trail of dark mascara on her skin. She delicately dabbed at tears with her fingertips, but the traces remained.

Seeing Augusta's raw pain almost overwhelmed her. Looking at this broken woman, she realised that losing a child is the worst no matter where they went. She fought against the stupor and reached behind herself to grasp the wood of the bookshelf to ground herself.

"I understand being tired," Andromeda said abruptly. Being trapped in a situation that everyone said they were sorry for, but no one could relate to was painfully familiar. "It's a void, and it's consuming, and no one can help. It's your tailor-made hell."

Augusta bowed her head, her spine bent with the weight of her pain. She pressed her hand against her heart, cheeks going pale again.

When she swayed, Andromeda wrapped her arm around her waist. Augusta leaned heavily against her.

"It's okay that you want to live your life," Andromeda said soothingly. She knew she couldn't let go of Nymphadora were she in Frank's situation, but she wished Augusta would be able to take a step back from her responsibilities and live. The thought of this remarkable woman wasting away in her grief and regrets was one she couldn't bear.

"He's my son."

"I know," Andromeda said, brushing a hand along a damp cheek. Augusta didn't draw back, so she cupped her face and ran her thumb over her cheek.

"I wish I could have done something."

"So do I, but it was war, and they were Aurors. There's nothing we could have done." The words were the truth, but she didn't know if she said them to soothe the woman in her arms or herself. "You deserve happiness," Andromeda added in a firm voice, gently lifting Augusta's chin so she could look into the comforting blue of her eyes.

"Sometimes, I don't know what my life is," Augusta confessed, cheeks gaining colour. She summoned a tissue and wiped her face.

"Have you considered seeing Sophia?" Andromeda said, hoping it wouldn't add more tension to the already thick air.

Augusta's features relaxed, but she shook her head. "I want her to help others."

"That is noble, but who will carry on your important work if you crumble?"

"Don't guilt me," Augusta shot back in a harsh voice. Defensive, Andromeda noted.

Andromeda could see how she was scrambling to put the pieces of her mask back together, but she had no intention of letting her. Not after she had seen Augusta's raw emotions. Not after she had shown Augusta her pain. She was in no mood to play games.

"Don't be unfair," Andromeda warned. "I'm trying to help."

Augusta deflated, but only to take a breath and steel herself. "No, you're playing the wise one."

"You have no right to belittle me or my experiences!" Her voice was unwavering and hard, matching the tone Augusta used so often.

Augusta looked as if she wanted to speak but remained silent. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Defiance doesn't suit you. At least consider it," Andromeda snapped.

Augusta thought for a moment. "I will. But only because you asked so nicely," she grumbled, the sarcasm dripping off her lips, and crossed her arms. It made her look like a pouting toddler, and if the retort hadn't vexed Andromeda, she would have laughed.

"I'm glad you're able to see reason," Andromeda jabbed, but Augusta let it pass unflinchingly, which infuriated Andromeda more, but she managed to swallow another remark.

Augusta straightened her back and walked towards the window. She sat on the windowsill. She stared down into the courtyard for a long moment and then turned to Andromeda. "For years, I wanted Neville to be a brazen Gryffindor, but not to fight a war, for Merlin's sake!" She laughed a short, desperate laugh but immediately collected herself. "Do you sometimes wonder why we have been blessed and cursed with such brave children?"

"All the damn time," Andromeda sighed, feeling the rest of her anger evaporate. "I assume it means we did our job well." They had instilled their beliefs into their children, and all of them had paid the highest price. Andromeda was not always confident that it had been worth the pain. She had an inkling that Augusta felt the same, but she was too tired to voice it.

"I couldn't have visited him without you," Augusta revealed.

"You would have eventually," Andromeda reassured her. "I've never met a woman as strong and determined as you."

Augusta snorted, her face hardening. "I've been practising for a long time."

"You don't always have to be strong." She stroked the cramped muscle in Augusta's jaw with her fingertip and smiled when Augusta unclenched her teeth.

"No," Augusta said, putting her hand on Andromeda's. "I suppose I don't have to."

"I like seeing your softness," Andromeda said and then dared to add, "It's beautiful."

A hint of pink coloured Augusta's cheeks, but it disappeared before Andromeda could savour it. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy and damp, but she was a vision. A stunning witch through and through.

They stood in silence, Andromeda not knowing what to say for fear of breaking the carefully negotiated truce but also because words were suddenly no longer necessary. She felt Augusta's warm skin and experienced her trust, and that was enough. Even though they were in uncharted territory, Andromeda knew what she wanted. She wanted to know everything about this complicated, multi-layered, beautiful woman. She wanted to be as close to Augusta as the witch would allow, and that unnerved her as much as it excited her.

Andromeda's mouth went dry. She cleared her throat, played with the collar of her blouse, and then checked her watch. "Potter will bring back Teddy soon," she rushed out and hoped her expression wouldn't betray her. She still had more than an hour left, but she needed to digest what just happened, and she wanted to do so without an overtired toddler screaming into her ear.

Augusta's face fell. It was subtle and quickly replaced by a neutral expression, but Andromeda caught it, and it made her stomach somersault.

"Come by soon, Andromeda," Augusta said. The statement filled Andromeda with happiness and anticipation.

"Of course," she replied, leaned forward and drew her into a quick hug, trying not to get lulled by her scent.

Augusta pressed her cheek ever so slightly against Andromeda's, and when Andromeda took a step back, Augusta smiled her full, alluring smile.

Back home, Andromeda closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream of a future filled with love and a gaze that was as blue as the cloudless summer sky.

Chapter 5

Teddy grew like a weed, becoming even more active and more expressive. It gave Andromeda great pleasure to see him thrive and to teach him new things. Soon, he would be speaking in short sentences, and she was looking forward to talking to him.

It was easier for Andromeda to leave Teddy with friends, and he had spent several nights with Harry.

The first few nights alone, she had been worrying, pacing, and fidgeting. But eventually, she had started to appreciate the calm. It opened her mind up to new possibilities. Now she used each minute of precious alone time working on new potions recipes and focusing on research. She hadn't used her potions lab so thoroughly in years.

Augusta's love and enthusiasm for muggle methods bled into Andromeda's interests. She was fascinated by applying the modern methods of muggle pharmacy to magical theory. It didn't matter to her if her research would ever be of any use, she did it for her sanity and personal growth, and it did wonders to her spirits.

She almost felt unburdened. But only almost. Grief was often at her doorstep, luring her into its cold arms. Over the months, Augusta had become a dear friend, and when the pain got overwhelming, Andromeda found refuge in her warm embraces and soothing words. Slowly, Andromeda was able to let go of the past and let go of the person she had been when she was Ted's wife. Sophia had helped her come to terms with the fact that moving on was a healthy step and that she was allowed to do so as soon as she was ready. Andromeda knew that she would never stop loving him. He was a visceral part of her, but she was ready to open her heart for new possibilities. It allowed her to envision a future filled with all kinds of love.

The two witches spent as much time as possible together, discovering each other and figuring out where they matched and where they clashed. It excited Andromeda, stripping Augusta of all her layers and finding what's underneath, and by the looks of it, Augusta enjoyed it just as much. How incredibly strong she was, this stunning witch, how witty and eloquent with that unique harshness that made her utterly Augusta. Andromeda dreamed about what it would be like to be with her. She wanted to love her in all the ways possible, and they were slowly but steadily getting there.

Andromeda had seen the fire in Augusta's eyes several times, but neither wanted to rush. They allowed their relationship time and space so it could take root before it would blossom.

"Good things take time," Augusta often said when she was stuck with a project or tired of pushing a proposal, or just as general words of wisdom. It stuck with Andromeda. They would continue to grow, as women, as grandmothers, as friends, and they would come together as soon as both their hearts and minds were ready.

On a Sunday afternoon in the middle of winter, Andromeda received a letter from Augusta that sounded urgent. Hermione and Harry were both out with their loves, and she didn't want to burden Molly with a whining toddler. She wrapped Teddy in a tight embrace, securing all his limbs so he couldn't wriggle, and apparated with him.

Augusta greeted her at the front door with a kiss on her cheek. She wore an excited grin on her lips.

"I must show you something!" Augusta said. She looked just about ready to burst, and seeing her unguarded joy was always a sight for sore eyes. Augusta grabbed Andromeda's wrist and dragged her inside the manor. There was a lightness in her step that Andromeda hadn't seen before. She struggled to keep up with her.

Teddy made a sound, which drew Augusta's focus to him. She stopped in her stride, turned around and caressed his cheek. It was a display that never failed to make Andromeda's heart flutter.

"Neville can look after Teddy if that is okay with you."

"Yes, please," Andromeda said, already looking forward to handing Teddy to the young man. He was hot against her body—she shouldn't have worn the blasted wool jumper—and heavy in her arm. She could already feel her muscles beginning to twitch.

"Neville!" Augusta called. "Come greet our guests."

Moments later, the young man hurried into the entrance hall. He grinned and approached her, his hand already outstretched, eager to greet her.

"It's good to see you, Mrs Tonks. Grandmother told me you were coming by."

Despite her various visits with his grandmother, Andromeda had never met Neville. The young man had been busy with an internship at Hogwarts. Up close, he looked an awful lot like Frank. The same curve in his jaw, the same eyes, the same hair. A wave of compassion and awe for Augusta came over her. Although their magic was often troublesome for all involved, she was glad her offspring were metamorphmagi. The thought of looking into Nymphadora's eyes every day seemed unbearable.

"Please, it's just Andromeda," she said after having been lost in his face for too long, not missing the slight purse of Augusta's lips. It amused Andromeda. She had always enjoyed throwing etiquette to the wind, and doing so in front of Augusta gave her a giddy feeling of pleasure.

Neville's eyes were glued to her grandson. He reached out a hand and ruffled Teddy's hair. Teddy babbled, his hair cycling through various shades before settling on Andromeda's dark brown. "Harry told me he can change like his mum but seeing it up close is something else."

"Neville," Augusta warned with harshness in her tone. The young man flinched but quickly gathered himself, lifting his gaze to Andromeda.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright, Neville. It's a fascinating gift," she said, shooting Augusta a poignant glance. Augusta crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking haughty. Andromeda chuckled and pried Teddy's fists from the collar of her jumper. She held out the squirming toddler towards Neville. "Why don't you show him some photographs? He's not yet much of a conversationalist, but he's quite adept at morphing."

Neville beamed and lifted the boy into his arms. Teddy looked at him with wide eyes for a moment and then smiled. "Mo-phin, mo-phin!" Teddy said.

Neville rocked him roughly, making him giggle. "We'll have a brilliant time, mate."

Situations like these always reminded Andromeda that she had made the right choice by tackling her problems and allowing Teddy to be cared for by others. Teddy was always excited to make new friends. She watched Neville leave and then turned towards Augusta with a broad grin. "You'll be a great-grandmother in no time."

Augusta snorted and made a face. "Don't say such horrible things. I'm done with potty training."

Andromeda laughed. "Repeat that in two years so we can toast to it."

Augusta walked up to her and eyed her curiously. Gone was the slight exasperation from just a second ago. "This carefreeness suits you," Augusta said.

The words resonated inside Andromeda's stomach, squeezing it. Making it flutter. She blushed and self-consciously put her palm to her cheeks. Blushing like this at over fifty should be forbidden, she thought.

Augusta brushed her hand over her heated cheek. She kept her fingers on Andromeda's skin, and Andromeda didn't dare to move a muscle while those piercing blue eyes roamed over her face. Eventually, Augusta cleared her throat and averted her gaze to the polished marble floor. "Let's go to the library."

She pushed the door to the library open and then turned to Andromeda, walking further into the room backwards. She pressed her hands together in front of her and smiled so radiantly it almost blinded Andromeda. Never had she seen her this happy. She was stunning like this.

"The board approved my proposal. All of it," she said and made no effort to school her features or keep her voice low.

"They did?" Andromeda laughed and approached her. She kissed her cheek and almost dared to kiss her on the lips, but this was Augusta's moment and not theirs. She shot her a stern glance. "Tell me all the details!"

Andromeda had eventually figured out that it was for a completely new healing program at St. Mungo's and not just a plan to improve the methods of the Janus Thickey ward. She had suspected it had a lot to do with Sophia, but other than that, Augusta had kept her lips sealed. It was her passion project, and she wanted to finish it on her own. Andromeda understood the sentiment but would have loved to support Augusta during all those tiring days and nights.

Augusta flicked her wand, and an adorned piece of parchment flew into her hand. She held it towards Andromeda.

Longbottom Centre for Mental Health and Wellbeing

Andromeda gasped, reading the name over and over feeling immensely proud of Augusta. "This is incredible. What happens now?"

"We build new facilities, hire and train healers. Frank and Alice won't be cast aside anymore. They will get real care and help," Augusta said. "Their world will burst into colour, Andromeda!" She pressed her hand in front of her mouth and then laughed while a few tears made their way down their cheeks.

It seemed as if all the pain that had been weighing Augusta down for years had finally been lifted off her shoulders.

"You've freed them," Andromeda whispered, realisation settling in her bones of the significance of her work. She felt so happy for Augusta that she had difficulty keeping her emotions in check.

Augusta nodded. "I have."

Andromeda didn't think. She approached her and kissed her. Augusta gasped but then firmly grabbed her by her waist, digging her fingertips into her flesh. Andromeda tasted the salt on Augusta's lips and inhaled her flowery scent. It was heady, it was addictive, it was even better than she had imagined.

Augusta took a step back and put her fingers on Andromeda's neck, stroking lightly. She didn't say anything, just looked at her.

"Was this too much?" Andromeda asked, voice firm despite the uncertainty of the moment.

"No," Augusta said with conviction. "You're never too much."

Augusta caught her gaze and held it. It made Andromeda's skin tingle. She could feel how the tension rose and stepped closer, crowding her private space. Augusta stayed put, those damned blue eyes boring into her.

Andromeda cupped Augusta's face and trailed her thumb over rosy lips, eager to feel her again. Augusta had been so unfazed by it, so into the kiss that Andromeda just had to know. She wanted to know all about her past and present. "Have you kissed a woman before?"

"That's what this kiss provoked in you?" Augusta quipped and rolled her eyes, tapping Andromeda's thumb with her index finger, a small smile playing on her lips. "McGonagall, but when we were firm and perky."

Andromeda laughed. It made so much sense. She should have realised it a while ago. "Is that why she's so good at putting you in your place?" she asked with humour in her voice. She could picture them as a couple, and she could just as easily imagine them going for each other's throats.

"You're giving her too much credit," Augusta replied drily but with a sparkle in her eyes. "Her unbearable bossiness was why we didn't work out," she continued after a pause.

Andromeda swallowed a laugh, wondering who truly had been the bossier one in their explosive union.

Slowly, she leaned down and let her lips hover over Augusta's, their upper lips almost touching. "I have never kissed a woman before," she whispered.

"Let me demonstrate again," Augusta said and closed the distance, pulling her into a deep kiss, her hands clasping at Andromeda's sides until their bodies were flush together.

When they parted, Augusta shot her a meaningful glance. "So? Do you like it?"

Andromeda pulled her closer again. "You're impossible," she whispered and kissed her once more, daring to run her tongue along her lower lip. Augusta sighed and opened her mouth. The sound sent Andromeda's heart into overdrive and heat to her lower belly. She liked kissing women—or at least she enjoyed kissing this one. Very much so.

The door opening forced them apart. Neville poked his head in, a wailing Teddy on his arm. Andromeda was impressed by how well he could control his features. That was undoubtedly Augusta's upbringing.

Andromeda laughed and didn't know if it was because she was nervous about being outed like that or because of Augusta's less than amused expression.

"Sorry to interrupt," Neville rushed out, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

He met Andromeda's eyes and tentatively entered the room. "I can't calm him down."

"Don't worry about it," Andromeda said, shooting him an understanding look, holding out her arms for Teddy. "Come here, my heart. Nana's got you."

Teddy snuggled against her while she patted his back. His cries didn't anger her so quickly anymore, and her being able to stay calm helped soothe him. She put a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Thank you for entertaining him, Neville."

"It allowed us some precious alone time," Augusta chimed in.

Andromeda didn't have to look to see the smug smile.

Neville's rosy cheeks turned crimson. "I, er, yes, you're welcome, I guess," he stammered, brushing his hand through his hair, all the Gryffindor brashness leaving him within seconds. It was as endearing as it was funny.

Andromeda leaned closer. "Your grandmother is insufferable."

He smiled and opened his mouth.

"Careful now, lad," Augusta warned.

Neville didn't let that derail him and whispered to Andromeda, "I'm not afraid of her anymore, but let's not tell her."

He turned to leave. "See you later, Granny," he said in a chipper voice.

Andromeda saw Augusta's wand hand twitch, but instead of hexing him, she released a pained sound and frowned. "I hate it when he calls me that."

Andromeda smirked. "You have raised an exceptional man." She hugged Teddy a little tighter to her chest and cradled him. His crying had given way to quiet sobs, and she knew he would soon calm down completely. "If Teddy turns out half as great, I'll have done my job well."

"Don't be silly, we both know that little Edward will grow up to be a wonderful man." She approached them both and caressed his back. "Yes, you will," Augusta said to Teddy and followed it up with a string of nonsense words, which he'd hopefully not pick up.

"Don't you want to talk to Neville?" Andromeda asked once Augusta had been able to pull herself away from Teddy. She was delightfully fond of the toddler. Not that Andromeda minded. She enjoyed that Augusta was affectionate with him.

Augusta waved a hand. "I'm not going to coddle him. If he wants to talk, he can come to me."

Andromeda nodded, delighted that Neville seemed to take the news in stride. She was looking forward to getting to know the elusive Hannah better next. She had only met her once when she had been able to convince Augusta that the Leaky Cauldron was a decent place for a drink and that seeing her almost-granddaughter-in-law was well worth a visit.

"Show me more of your brilliant ideas," she urged.

"Nana!" Teddy lamented and tried to hit her. She caught his hand and kissed his fingers. "No hitting! Use your words."

"Down!" He leaned away from her so briskly that she had trouble holding him. She set him on the floor, and he immediately took wobbly steps towards the sofa. He liked that one embroidered cushion on it and reached for it. When he couldn't grab it, he started to scream.

"He'll grow into such a patient man!" Andromeda said, frowning while looking at Augusta and smiling when she burst into laughter.

Augusta flicked her wand and sent the cushion into Teddy's waiting hands. "There you go. All you need is ask." She turned to Andromeda. "Well, now that he's settled, come take a look."

Augusta opened a notebook containing various construction plans. She unfolded the most detailed one.

"I have been able to convince them that a new building is a better investment than magically expanding St. Mungo's again. We will build in Greenwich."

"Why didn't you make something completely on your own?"

Augusta sighed. "St. Mungo's has the best general healers and spell-damage experience. It would have been a loss not being able to count on them, and healing should be about working together and not going behind each other's back."

Andromeda nodded, and Augusta began to describe her vision for the building in vivid detail and supported her words with illustrations. The rooms were going to have high ceilings and be flooded with light. They had pre-programmed magic that adjusted to the patients' moods and wishes. Very little consciousness was needed for the room to react so it would work for Alice and Frank.

"I'm tired of seeing bare, powder blue walls. It's a mesmerising sight to see the colour change from a vibrant pink to a calming cerulean. They can also change the shape of the windows or their furniture."

"A slimmed down version of the Room of Requirement," Andromeda concluded. She was looking forward to seeing this impressive piece of magic in action. No wonder Augusta had spent months brooding over papers and heavy tomes.

"Precisely," Augusta said and then confessed, "Minerva and Filius helped."

Andromeda arched an eyebrow. "Just admit that you're friends with McGonagall," she quipped.

Augusta crossed her arms and lifted her chin into the air. "Don't make me admit such things."

Andromeda laughed, and Augusta joined in a second later.

After a moment, Augusta turned solemn and sighed. "We regularly drive each other up the walls but I couldn't have done it without her patience, knowledge, and magic. And she was a good friend when…" She waved her hand.

"I understand," Andromeda said, lightly touching her wrist and after a breath added, "Tell me more about your centre."

Augusta continued her tale, showing Andromeda layouts of the grounds and a rough sketch of the greenhouse. Neville, who, according to his grandmother, had a green thumb, would take over the planting of the greenhouse. Once a week, he would garden with the patients.

"When he was a little boy, he didn't feel like visiting his parents anymore. For a while, I resented him for it. I couldn't understand why, but Merlin, he was only four..." Augusta trailed off and brushed a hand through her hair, messing up her neatly knotted bun.

Andromeda realised Augusta was as guilt riddled as she was.

"I hope he can find solace and joy caring for the plants with them," Augusta said, and the statement washed the guilt off her face.

"I'm sure he will," Andromeda said, patting the hand with which Augusta was clinging to the parchment.

Augusta talked about healing methods, therapy rooms that would help stimulate their brainwaves, and how she would lead the administrative affairs. The pride shone through with every word that crossed her lips and every picture she showed Andromeda.

"You're incredible," Andromeda said once she had seen everything.

Augusta kissed her knuckles. "That's not all." Her gaze drifted past Andromeda, wandering along the bookshelves and the ceiling and caught on the door. Her smile turned wistful, and she sucked in a breath. "I sold the manor."

Andromeda was taken aback. "What?" Augusta had always taken great pride in the ancient building and spent a lot of time tending to it and its surroundings.

"I felt my greatest joy and my greatest sorrow within those walls, but with Neville about to move out, it's time to let go. I bought a flat. A new start, just for myself. I will invest the rest of the galleons in the centre." Augusta smiled, and there was not a hint of remorse hiding in her features.

Andromeda was speechless, impressed by her actions. She had thought about selling the cosy cottage she had raised Nymphadora in, but she clung to the tiny mementos that were carved into its wooden structures. "How do you feel now?"

"Liberated," Augusta said, inhaling soundly. "I'm ready to tackle this new chapter of my life."

She searched Andromeda's gaze and, a moment later, her closeness. Andromeda held her tightly, running her fingers through her hair.

"Frank and Alice will be tended to when I'm gone, and Neville won't be burdened," Augusta whispered.

She lifted her head and captured Andromeda's lips in a soft, slow kiss. It was full of comfort and love. It felt wonderful.

"I'm so happy for you," Andromeda said, caressing her neck just below her ear.

Looking at Augusta's newfound happiness reminded her that her future didn't have to be bleak and barren. She would continue to work for her wellbeing and reclaim her life until the ground beneath her feet was solid again.

A crack followed by an enraged, "Nanaaa!" snapped her out of her thoughts.

Andromeda's head snapped in Teddy's direction, immediately chastising herself for not doing so earlier. He had been too quiet, and she should have realised. He was sitting on his bum, a mess of cotton and colourful fabric spread all across his lap and the floor around him, fat tears rolling down his red cheeks.

"Oh my!" Augusta said with a mellow smile on her lips, getting up to grab him. He was quickly comforted by her soothing words and gentle caresses.

In the meantime, Andromeda tried to Reparo the cushion, but he had firmly blown it up. All she managed was a knotted mess of string. She cursed under her breath.

Carefully, Augusta put the toddler in Andromeda's arms and pointed her wand at the cushion. A series of wand movements followed which was underlined by a spell Andromeda had never heard. Seconds later, the cushion was back in its former glory.

Andromeda arched an eyebrow. "One of McGonagall's tricks?"

"I like it when you're cheeky," Augusta retorted with a grin.

She sat down next to Andromeda and kissed her on the lips before leaning against her shoulder. They sat like that for a moment, Augusta playing with Andromeda's fingers and eventually grabbing her hand.

"I'll send Witch Weekly a fruit basket," she said, shooting Andromeda a meaningful glance.

"Let me sign the card!" Andromeda laughed.

Andromeda felt at ease like this, holding the woman she was falling in love with and the boy she loved to bits. The future, she mused, would be thrilling. It would be filled with adventure, growth and love, and she was ready to live it.