Author's notes: What's with me and unnecessarily long one-shots lately?

Anyway, I hope you like it. And before you start throwing heavy/rotten things at me… this whole thing is not actually part of my headcanon. It's just a weird idea that came out of nowhere. I hope it's not too bad.

Reviews are appreciated, as always. I'd love to know what you think, as long as it's constructive.

Everyone had always considered Andromeda the most unfortunate one from her family.

Ever since she was a child, she could hear people whispering things about her; things that made her feel upset and angry; they were all saying that she was the least loved child among her sisters, the one that nobody paid any real attention to…

Later in her life, Andromeda started noticing other things – it wasn't only her parents that ignored her completely. It was, basically, everyone but her closest friends. People always noticed her sisters before her. Bellatrix was already engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange at the age of sixteen. Even the impatient, rude and unpleasant Bellatrix had someone who loved her. Narcissa had so many men around who wanted to marry her that Lucius felt truly honoured when she accepted his proposal.

Andromeda had her first and only suitor when she was already eighteen-year-old and she was married to Rabastan Lestrange just a month or two after the engagement. Perhaps Druella had been afraid that the man would change his mind if he had more time to think.

And now, a year later, Andromeda was under everyone's attention once again. Poor little Andromeda, only nineteen-year-old – and pregnant, no less, as everyone supposed – and they were quite right – having her sister, husband and brother-in-law caught by the Aurors. Dromeda could hear her name coming from everywhere she went – too often accompanied by the names 'Rabastan' or 'Bellatrix'.

Cissy did her best to help her to get through all of this. She had assured her that 'Rab and Bella are going to be fine'. People came in and out from the Lestrange mansion, trying to cheer her up, to talk to her or to tell her how sorry they were for her great loss.

Andromeda did not say a word to anybody.

Or, at least, not until the day when the Aurors appeared to interrogate her and investigate the house for more Dark magic objects. When they found none, one f the Aurors approached her – she was sitting on a sofa in the guest room – and sat in front of her.

"Mrs Lestrange" he began. "I'm so sorry for what happened to your family."

"They deserved it." Andromeda whispered. Her voice was a bit hoarse; she had almost forgotten how to use it.

"No, I'm not sure you understand." The man continued. "I… I was the one who caught the Death Eaters that…"

His voice slowly died. The silence that fell in the room after his words was an extremely tense one. Andromeda didn't know what to do. The first reaction that came to mind was to stand up and stab the Auror with the knife on the table so near them, no matter how right he was about capturing the Death Eaters.

"…that were my relatives." She finished his sentence with a mocking smile curling her lips. "Like I said, they probably deserve everything they will get. You were just doing your job. It's not your fault."

"I'm glad you understand." The Auror said, sounding relieved, and stood up to leave. "I shall go then… Oh, and one more thing." He stopped where he stood near the door. "Rabastan Lestrange's will was found during the investigating of the house. Almost everything he owns passes in your possession now." The man said curtly. "And… there was this letter." He handed her a roll of parchment. "It wasn't opened by the Ministry – he had written it to you. But, if there's any important information from or about You-Know-Who's inner circle, you will have to report this to us, of course."

"Of course."

"Goodbye then, Mrs Lestrange."

"Goodbye, Sir."

o.O.o

Dearest Andromeda,

If you're reading this, that meant that I'm already too far away from you to give it to you. Or to say all of this to you personally.

I'm so sorry. It was unfair of me to get married to you. Making you my wife was very selfish, since I've always known that, with all these things going on and with Bella and Rod involved, I would have became a Death Eater too. And, sooner or later, I know that I'll either die in a battle or get caught and sent in Azkaban for the rest of my life. I wrote this because I don't even know which day that would be. I can't be sure in anything anymore.

As you have most likely been told already, everything I have is now yours. It's kind of strange for a seventeen-year-old boy to think about his will, but I know that I want you to take everything and I do have heritage – mostly money and jewellery – given to me from my mother and father. It's all yours. Except the mansion. It would probably be yours too, but my father gave it to Rodolphus.

I know what you're thinking right now, as you are reading this. You're already making plans of where to go and how to run away from everything you once knew. And I do not blame you. There's nothing that could hold you back in that house now. I hope that the money will be enough and would help you to start a new life.

What was his name, that Mudblood you wanted to be with before your parents forced you into marriage? Tonks, wasn't it? Well, if you are planning to go and live with him, you'd rather need all the money you can be given, because I suppose you'll be disowned as soon as your dear mother hears about it.

Go and be happy, for everything's sake. No matter what has happened to me, I don't want you to be sad and to cry as you're reading this. I want you to forget about your past – to forget even about me – and start living as someone completely different. Just be happy.

I don't want you to feel guilty either. I know I was just a friend for you during all these years. I don't suppose I truly loved you too – I loved you, but not as a man should love his wife. And yet, I wanted to make you love your life. I hope you will now. You're finally free, as you have always told me you'd like to be.

Andromeda, my dearest Andromeda. I have just one more thing I want you to do. Take care of Cissy, if Bella is not around to do it by the time you're reading this. Please. I know you will, of course – you would never leave her be all alone. Tell her not to get involved in this, no matter what. Don't let her get the Dark Mark, because there's no turning back.

Thank you for everything.

Yours truly,

Rabastan

She did not cry. Andromeda wasn't used to crying in general, and what was the point of doing it now? Rabastan did not want her to, and it was quite apparent that he had been right for almost everything he had written in his letter. He was right about that one too. Andromeda deserved to be happy.

The same night everything she had was packed. She had gone to Gringotts as soon as she considered her plan fully. To her surprise, the goblins informed her that there's a new vault opened and someone whose name they did not know, and it was opened under the name Andromeda Black, and not Andromeda Lestrange, as it was supposed to be now.

The first thing Andromeda saw when she opened the door of the vault wasn't the small mountain of money in it. It was a bride's diadem. The one she wore on her wedding. It was amongst all the jewellery that was kept in the vault, but it was the first one that brought her attention to itself.

Even though her eyes started stinging painfully, Andromeda didn't cry now either. She avoided looking at all the treasures of the past carefully hidden here by Rabastan, as she took the money she needed, left the goblin lock the door of the vault, and left the place as soon as she could.

o.O.o

Andromeda got together with Ted soon enough to pass the child as his – even Ted himself accepted this as the truth. She did not want to embarrass herself entirely; what would people say if they had heard that she had not only married a Mudblood, but raised with him a child that was actually her previous husband's?

Andromeda truly loved Ted. She loved him more than she would ever be able to love Rabastan. That was why she never had the heart to tell him the truth about Nymphadora; her daughter never learned the truth either. As it happened to be with many other secrets of hers, Andromeda had to bury this one deep inside her soul too.

She never cried again. The only time she had to hold back tears was when her daughter was born. As her hair had started to change its colour rapidly, it stopped for a while on a certain dark red one – one that was far too familiar to Andromeda.

Meanwhile Rabastan – along with brother, Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Junior – was sentenced to a life imprisonment in Azkaban. Soon nobody remembered that such person as Andromeda Lestrange had ever existed. She had indeed started a new life; she had became a new woman altogether. Moved away from her old home. Married Ted. Started helping the Order of the Phoenix with everything she could.

Andromeda Tonks was way wiser and smarter than that scared young girl that had left the Lestrange mansion so many years ago. But, as much as she tried to convince herself of that, she kept a habit that she was supposed to let go after a year or two – she kept writing letters to Rabastan; one letter every year. She was writing about her feeling on the things that had changed through the year that had passed after her last letter. She was writing about her – their – daughter and what she did at school; she even wrote it down when Dora became and Auror.

Andromeda never sent those letters.

She knew that even if she had sent them, nobody would pass them to whom they were supposed to reach. The jailor wouldn't give a letter – a closed one, that hadn't been checked by the Ministry, especially – to a Death Eater, supposedly a very dangerous one.

And as time passed, this whole ritual became necessary for Andromeda. She did not tell anybody about it, because it would ruin her reputation, let alone the fact that everyone would think that she had gone crazy. What person in their right mind would write letters to someone who would never get them?

Even though sometimes she considered herself crazy for doing that too, Andromeda didn't stop. She was still writing those letters every year and she was hiding them in her vault in Gringotts – nobody but her was allowed to go there anyway, so who except her would ever see them?

1st January 1998

When the Death Eaters took over the Ministry of Magic and then, shortly after that, over Gringotts, and when they finally had no mission after a few months, the first place that Rodolphus and Bellatrix visited in their free time was the Lestrange vault in the bank. There was something the Dark Lord had given them to place there. If their master had given it now and they wanted to hide it, or if they had hidden it there years ago and they wanted to check if it's still there, Rabastan did not know and did not care either. Rab had said that he wanted to check something and separated with them as soon as possible.

"There's a vault I'd like to visit." He said determinedly, looking down at the goblin. He took out the key and ignored the skeptical look on the creature's face as he handed it to it.

"You can't." the goblin said, trying to hide the annoyance - and the fear – from his voice. "You surely know, Mr Lestrange, that you can't visit someone else's vault without their permission. Even if said vault was open because of your… possessions that had been passed to them."

Rabastan took his wand out, pointing it at the creature's chest.

"Do you think that I'd feel any bad if I kill you, goblin?" he hissed. "You do know who I am, do you not? I'm not going to bother with you."

The goblin considered his face and his voice for a while, then merely whispered "Follow me, Mr Lestrange."

Rabastan followed the goblin soundlessly, trying to keep looking dangerous enough. He couldn't allow the creature to see how fast he was getting tired and how tortured and hollow his whole body and mind felt. All those years in Azkaban seemed to have even worse effect on him now that he was finally out of the prison.

"Here we are." The goblin said as the trolley suddenly stopped. Rabastan opened his eyes. "You may enter."

The man slowly entered the vault. Almost everything inside was just as he had left it here so many years ago. She hadn't even used half of the money. It was hard to think of a name – especially one he had tried to avoid thinking about in Azkaban. He had been afraid that along with her name – or her younger sister's one – too many happy memories would come – memories that the Dementors would consume, just as they did with almost anything that had left in his violated mind.

But what made Rabastan remind himself her name now was determination to get used to the idea that he was free. He was actually free and he could allow himself to think of whatever he liked.

In fact, Andromeda – Rab was almost proud of himself for remembering the name at all – had changed almost nothing here. There was still a lot of money and she had barely touched the jewellery.

There was something new added here, though. A small pile of letters – closed carefully, as if they were ready to be sent.

Rabastan's curiosity seemed to have returned to him for the first time since he was caught along with Bellatrix and his brother while they were torturing the Longbottoms. Then, before that mission, he had been curious – he had never seen anyone using the Cruciatus curse – and he had not felt the urge to find out anything after that. He could still recall their screams that haunted him in Azkaban and that were - quite often – his only visitors in his cell.

Rabastan tried to ignore the thought – his mind was running out in some unrelated memories all the time lately – and focused back on the letters. He scowled. He had came here just to find some connection with his old life and had not expected something like that. Why would Andromeda do such a thing?

He kneeled on the ground, picking up the letters and unceremoniously taking them and hiding them in one of the pockets of his robes.

"I'm done here." Rabastan announced as he walked out of the vault.

He did not open the letters; no until he was safely back into Malfoy Manor, where the Headquarters was now and where he had been given a room. As soon as he walked in in said room, he kicked the door shut and locked it with a flick of his wand.

Rabastan laid on the bed, still in his clothes and shoes, and took out the letters. There was no address written on any of them; just a name.

All the letters were addressed to him.

Every single letter had the name 'Rabastan Lestrange', written in Andromeda's familiar, elegant handwriting, and each had a year – there was a letter for every year since he had been in prison. Rabastan opened the first one, not really sure what to expect.

The letters were very long; or at least the first one definitely was. He had made no mistake; it was indeed written to him, and he knew that it was really her who had written it – he could recognize everything; the talking manner, the handwriting, even the slight scent of her perfume, in which the letters were bathed.

He took a deep breath and started reading.

o.O.o

Rabastan,

I suppose you will never read this. There is no way you will, really. But it just makes me feel better to write it.

You have a daughter, did you know that? A perfect little girl with brown eyes and… well, I can't say much about the hair. It keeps changing all the time. She is a Metamorphmagus, can you believe it?

I followed your advice. I started a new life and moved far, far away from home. Nobody knows me here. Nobody knows anything about my past.

But it's still after me, Rabastan. Can you feel that? Do you feel the same way, wherever you are now? I wanted to visit you at first, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't let me see you. Is it as dreadful as they always say it is? Can it be worse than my pain? Does the past leave you alone there? Because I still can't get rid of mine. I wake up every morning and I don't know where I am, because the faces of all the people I left behind keep surrounding me, even in my dreams. Then I realise that leaving everything behind was good for me. And that I should be happy.

What is happiness, Rabastan? Does it mean 'survival'? Seems like it. If you succeeded in forgetting who you were before, can you say that you are happy? Can you say that you're happy just because you can live through every day without suffering because of all the mistakes you have done before?

Perhaps.

I called her Nymphadora. The girl. I thought you'd like to know.

Sincerely,

Andromeda, 17. 04. 1973

Rabastan was utterly stunned. A daughter. He had a daughter. As he did with every person before meeting them, he tried to imagine the girl Andromeda was talking about. In his mind, he saw a pale, beautiful young woman – she had to be what now, twenty-four-years-old? Somewhere around that. – with dark eyes and tall, slender figure, with slightly angular features of her face, just like her mother. He tried to imagine her with dark red hair like his, and then a soft brown one – the colour of Andromeda's long curls – but none of those two seemed to fit. She was a Metamorphmagus; she was able to change her whole appearance and Rabastan's mind started creating more and more images of Nymphadora, in every one of which she looked differently. A little stupid smile curled his lips as he felt a sudden wave of some feeling he couldn't find a name for. The warm, unfamiliar sensation raised deep in him every time he thought of that girl he imagined. His daughter. Nymphadora.

Then he started worrying about Andromeda. In this letter, she seemed so confused, so vulnerable. Rabastan took the next letter, eager, impatient to read more.

More and more time passed as Rabastan read through his wife and his daughter's life – he couldn't believe that a child of him and Andromeda had been sorted in Hufflepuff, or that she had became an Auror. He was almost scandalized when he read that Nymphadora had married Remus Lupin and became a part of the Order of the Phoenix. But, even as it seemed that the girl was nothing like him, Rabastan appreciated every little word about her.

And, hours later – hours that seemed as long as years, because Andromeda had described every moment of her life since he was imprisoned, in one letter for each year passed – he reached the last one. His eyes were already very tired and night was falling outside, but he kept reading anyway.

Rabastan,

I'm afraid, I'm so afraid. How am I supposed to let them all go? I fear that I'm the only one out of danger now. Ted is a Muggle-born and… well, you know perfectly well that your people are after every Muggle-born they can find. Nymphadora insist that she should take part of this whole madness, and she's pregnant. Pregnant with a child that will most likely be a werewolf, just like his father. How can I survive through all of that? I almost forced her to stay home where she's safe for once. I have no news from Ted since he departed. I don't know where he is; I don't know if he's even still alive. All of that kills me slowly.

I wish I could end this once and for all. I had the chance once, you know. I met Bellatrix, during the first war, while she was out trying to find someone she had to interrogate.

I surprised her. She didn't see me and I could have quite easily killed her. Maybe there wouldn't be so many people in danger now, if only I hadn't been so weak.

And now Nymphadora is here and she's asking me who I am writing to. She's bored and angry because she has to stay here and do nothing while everyone else tries to help the Potter boy with whatever they can – not that anyone knows where he actually is our what he is actually doing.

Rabastan, I know that I shouldn't write all of this, especially not to you. If you ever find these letters, you'll have to tell your master everything you've learned from them and nobody's going to forgive me for betraying everyone like that. It feels almost as writing to an imaginary friend or a dead close one. It's stupid and ridiculous, but I can't help it. Writing all of this had become such a strong part of me that I don't know if I would be able to live in peace without doing it.

I suppose you have a tough time too. You've never been as glad to serve the Dark Lord as Rodolphus and Bellatrix. I hope you're not in danger.

I wish you could tell me something, anything, about my sisters. How are they? What's going on with Cissy; is she scared? And Bella – is she finally happy? She must be… That's the world she wanted to live in.

Anyway, I'm not sure I'll write one of these next year.

I'm not even completely sure that I'll be alive by then.

I just hope that everything will be all right again, for everyone. I don't want anyone to die. Can't everybody live without this war? Isn't there any other way?

I suppose not.

But I have hope. Everyone – well, most people I know – thins that Potter had ran into hiding and is never to be seen again, because he's afraid. I wouldn't blame him if he'd done that, but I highly doubt that he would hide like a coward. I just have a feeling that he's doing something to help us. I've met him just once, and I don't even know why I have faith in him, but I refuse to give it up.

I hope you're fine, too. Just… take care of yourself, will you? I want to see you again one day.

I miss you,

Andromeda, 21. 12. 1997

When Rabastan finished the letter, he started reading it all over again. It was rather confusing; it seemed as if Andromeda's thoughts had been completely unrelated to each other.

She seemed even more broken than him.

When he left the letter where the other ones were, he realised that something had fallen from it when he had opened it. A picture, actually.

Rabastan picked it up. It was a photo of a girl and a man who was maybe a bit younger than him. He could vaguely remember who he was – Lupin, Remus Lupin – because he had gone to school somewhere by the time Rab had.

When Rabastan looked at the girl, though, his heart skipped a beat. This had to be her – Nymphadora. He knew it in the moment when his eyes focused on her.

It was, first of all, the same one that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had followed so eagerly in July last year, when they were trying to catch Potter. Nobody had mentioned her name back then, and he hadn't even realised that the girl had been Andromeda's child at all.

But now, he could see both Andromeda and himself on their daughter's face. She looked almost as he had imagined she would.

Nymphadora had the same pointed, rather sharp features, just like her mother's – and just like almost every other Black. But, while Andromeda had a very beautiful body with curves on all the right places, her daughter's body rather resembled Rabastan 's – she was extremely thin, so thin and tall that it almost looked unhealthy, and both her face and hands that he could see were as pale as his own skin.

The most shocking thing in her, of course, was her hair. Rabastan had spent a very long time on thinking what her hair might look like, but he definitely hadn't imagined the vividly pink strands falling all around her face.

Rabastan smiled at her subconsciously, as if she could see him, and that strange, unfamiliar feeling rose inside him once again, the same as the one that had overwhelmed him when he had thought about his daughter.

He couldn't believe he had missed so much. His daughter – a daughter about whom he had found out only hours ago – was already a grown woman, married and pregnant. If he had only been there all this time… suddenly Rabastan got angry at his brother and Bellatrix for getting him involved into all of this. They had had to stop him. He had been only eighteen-years-old; still almost a child.

He hid all the letters and the photo in the nightstand near the bed in his room. If anyone would enter in what was supposed to be his personal space, it would be either his brother, Narcissa, or a house elf. Rodolphus wouldn't bother to search of his brother had hidden something around, Narcissa probably wouldn't too, and if she did, she would understand why he had hidden all this information from everyone, and house elves were usually used to hiding family secrets, no matter how awful said secrets were.

Rabastan went to the bed and curled under the blankets – he still couldn't get used to having a warm, comfortable bed to sleep in – and closed his eyes, trying to finally fall asleep.

After a few minutes, though, he realised that it was impossible for him to sleep with all these thoughts running in his mind. His eyes snapped open and he lighted a candle near the bed. Rabastan stood up and went to the desk on the other end of the room, searching for some parchment and a quill. He could use on of the owls the Malfoys had.

Andromeda…

2nd May 1998

Rabastan was running all around, trying to find even the slightest sign that she had been here at all.

"Ciss!" he said when he saw Narcissa and Lucius. They were searching from Draco and the woman barely stopped to hear him.

"Yes?"

"She…" asked, hoping that she would understand who he was talking about. Narcissa grimaced.

"Dead." She said. "Just saw her. And her husband too."

"Who?" Rabastan asked, his voice trembling. "Who did it?"

"Bella. I'm sorry." Narcissa knew that he was searching for Nymphadora, but he hadn't told her why. "I have to go now, Rab. I still can't find Draco…" and before he knew it, she had disappeared, leaving Rabastan standing there.

Dead. She was dead. Only a few months after he had realised that he had a daughter, she was dead without even having the chance to meet her father. Not that she would have liked him very much, of course, but he had wanted to see her so much! Maybe even without telling her the truth; he had just wanted to talk to her…

Rabastan had just started searching around when he saw her.

Narcissa was right. There was no way she could be alive. He kneeled next to her – thanks Merlin there was nobody around, because he would have a lot of explaining to do – and touched her face desperately.

"Nymphadora." He whispered. She was so beautiful and seemed so real that he stepped back. Rabastan couldn't stand to watch her lay there and remember how alive and happy she was the last time he had seen that photo,

He felt his whole body starting to tremble with anger he couldn't hold in any longer.

"Who did it?"

"Bella…"

Rabastan turned all around to find Bellatrix and he spotted her dueling with Molly Weasley, not very far from where he stood. He didn't know what Bellatrix had done to make her so angry, but the other woman seemed out of her mind.

Rabastan could have warned Bellatrix that he had to stop this time; that she had went too far. He could see that the Weasley woman would kill her as soon as the spells she was casting hit her opponent.

He knew that he could have saved her. Pulled her away and dueled Molly himself instead. He knew that Rodolphus would never forgive him if he learned that his brother could have saved Bellatrix and he hadn't – and he would probably never forgive himself, either. But the image of Nymphadora, laying there among the ash on the floor, dead at such a young age, and with a son that would be alone for the rest of his life, was still burning his mind. Bellatrix had ruined too many lives.

And yet, Rabastan could have saved her. She could easily be his sister; he had spent the most part of his life with her around. She had affected his life in almost any way possible.

That was why he stood there and watched her die.