"What?" was all she could say when she heard, gripping the doorframe hard to stay on her feet. Pull yourself together, Andromeda, she heard a voice in her head. Her mother's. A Black always retains her poise.

I'm not a Black anymore, she retorted to the voice in her head. Aloud, she tried to regain her poise anyway. "What did you just tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Andromeda." Remus Lupin was standing in her kitchen, where he'd refused the chair she'd offered him. His face was haggard, as though he hadn't slept for days, and his eyes were sad and haunted. That was how she knew that what he was saying was true. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

He looked sorry – and not just for her. He and Sirius had been close – although she'd never met him before the Order, Sirius had sent her letters about his friends James, Remus, and Peter, how close they were, how much trouble they got into together. . .

She took two steps across the kitchen and sank into the chair he'd refused. Two blows at once . . . How could this be possible?

She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands, allowing herself four beats of weakness. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. Then she sat up straight again, squared her shoulders. "You say my daughter is at St. Mungo's?"

"Yes," he replied. "I assume" –

"That we're going there immediately?" she interrupted him. "You assume correctly, Remus." She pulled out her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

The silver lioness burst from the end as usual, and she said, "Nymphadora is hurt. Meet me at St. Mungo's immediately." Then, with a flick of her wand, she sent it off to Ted. Once that was done, she turned to Remus, offering her arm.

He looked surprised for a moment, but took it, and she collected her thoughts and turned on the spot, pulling them both into the darkness of Apparition.

They reappeared at St. Mungo's; Andromeda didn't even stop to catch her breath before entering the center and informing the dummy that they were here for Nymphadora Tonks. Her brisk, no-nonsense tone alerted everyone who saw her that she meant business, and in no time they were on their way to the Spell Damage floor.

A few other people were in Nymphadora's ward: Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Arthur Weasley. As soon as Andromeda swept in, they all stepped back from Nymphadora's bed, leaving space for her to make her way to her daughter. She ignored them all and made her way straight for the bed, taking her seat in the chair Kingsley had just vacated.

When her daughter was sleeping, her hair reverted back to its natural shade: the same as Andromeda's and her parents'. Black hair, Sirius had called it, sneering at the irony that it wasn't really black anyway.

Sirius.

Andromeda pushed those thoughts away. She would deal with them later. She leaned forward and gently smoothed her daughter's hair back from her face, lost in thoughts, remembering when she had been so much smaller, just a little girl –

"Mum?"

Nymphadora's voice was small and young-sounding, but it was real. Andromeda almost gasped as her daughter opened her eyes and blinked a few times. "Hi. Where – what happened? Am I – what?" She started to sit up, but Andromeda placed her hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

"You're at St. Mungo's, Nymphadora," Andromeda said. "You were injured at the Ministry. Do you remember what happened?"

"Harry!" Nymphadora sat bolt upright, shaking off Andromeda's arm. "And Ron, and Ginny; Hermione – are they okay? What happened?"

"They're fine, Tonks," said Remus from behind Andromeda. "The kids all made it out okay."

"Good," she sighed, slumping back into her pillows. No one else said a word, all of them doing their best to nod at her in agreement. But they were clearly not concealing the truth well enough. Nymphadora was sharp; she was an Auror, after all, and Andromeda's daughter. She knew when people were withholding information from her.

She sat up again. "You're not telling me something, Remus," she said, looking at him with narrowed eyes. There was something in her face that Andromeda couldn't quite decipher, but she knew that Remus could by the way his face grew tighter. "What aren't you telling me?"

He exhaled in defeat, his shoulders dropping. "Tonks, just – just try to recover, okay? Just" –

"What is it?" she said, her voice sharper and more insistent now. "If Remus won't tell me, then someone else had better. What happened?"

There was silence for a moment. Since she still didn't know what had happened, really – her first priority had been her daughter – Andromeda knew it wasn't her place to speak. And no one else seemed willing to.

"You said 'the kids all made it out okay,'" guessed Nymphadora. "Someone didn't."

The silence was as good as confirmation, Andromeda knew.

"Who is it?" demanded Nymphadora, her voice rising in pitch. "Goddammit, Remus, tell me who" –

"Sirius."

It was Arthur who spoke, wearily, from the back of the room. "It was Sirius, Tonks. He was dueling Bellatrix, and he fell through the Veil."

Andromeda felt all the breath leave her lungs in a huff. Bellatrix. He had been dueling Bellatrix – her sister – his cousin –

Nymphadora's face was still for a moment, shocked. Her mouth opened and closed. Finally, in a tiny voice, she said, "Oh."

There was another second of silence, and then she gasped. "I was fighting her! Merlin's pants, I was fighting her and she put me out of commission, and then he – he must've taken over, and – If I'd just been able to get her" –

She struggled to rise again, but all the color drained out of her face and she lay back down on her pillows, obviously too weak to do anything more. "Goddammit," she said again, this time almost helplessly, and Andromeda was so busy reeling that she couldn't even chide her daughter for her language.

Her favorite cousin, dead at the hands of her sister.

Sirius, dead at the hands of Bellatrix.

Not to mention that Bellatrix was also the reason Nymphadora was here, at St. Mungo's, lying in this bed, probably lucky to be alive –

"Dora!" Ted's voice reached Andromeda's ears; her husband came bursting through the door of the ward, obviously confused and upset. "Where is she – is she okay" –

He came to a stop in the middle of the room, as though realizing for the first time that it was full. He spotted Andromeda sitting by Nymphadora's bed and his face slackened in horror. She must look pretty awful, she mused, to elicit that expression.

"Dora!" he cried again, and bounded to the bed – only to jump back when he saw that she was awake and looking at him.

"Hey, Dad," she said softly, but her face never lost its grief-stricken expression. "I'm okay; don't worry."

"What's going on?" He dropped to his knees beside her, taking her hand in his. "I got Andromeda's message" – He met her eyes across the bed, and she tried to smile at him, but it slid immediately off of her face. "What's happened?"

"There was a battle at the Department of Mysteries, Ted," said Kingsley in his slow, soothing voice. "Your daughter was hurt, and – Sirius was killed."

Ted's face was a mask of shock for a moment, and then that dripped away, to be replaced by sadness and resignation. "How did it happen?" he asked quietly.

Sirius had been at their wedding – the only member of their family who'd shown up. Andromeda had invited them all, only at Ted's behest (he wanted her to reconcile with her family, he said, didn't want her to be separated from them for his sake), but Narcissa had returned the wedding announcement unopened and Bellatrix hadn't responded at all (which honestly had worried her more than Narcissa's rudeness). Her parents and Sirius' had sent Howlers, and Regulus had politely declined – but Sirius had come. He had sat with her few friends who supported her, and afterwards had kissed her on the cheek and shaken Ted's hand and told them to take good care of themselves and one another.

That was the last time they'd seen him before he'd been thrown in Azkaban – falsely accused, but they hadn't known that – but they'd always remembered that presence at their wedding, had always wondered how the fiery young Sirius who'd rebelled against the Black family and denounced the pureblood line could have switched sides so completely.

When they'd learned of his innocence, Ted had grown to respect him and care for him deeply. And Andromeda –

Andromeda had always thought of him as her favorite cousin.

"Bellatrix Lestrange happened," snarled Mad-Eye. "She cursed him and knocked him through the Veil."

Ted's face grew pale, and he reached across Nymphadora's bed for Andromeda's hand. She held it, numb, with her other hand still resting on her daughter's shoulder.

"Because I wasn't good enough," muttered Nymphadora. "Because I couldn't take her down when I had the chance" –

"You couldn't have done anything, Tonks," interrupted Remus. His face was still tired and sad; he looked older than Andromeda felt. "Bellatrix is . . . she's more than a match for any of us. You couldn't have done anything. None of us could have."

At the moment, Andromeda could have killed her sister – could have done it with almost no regrets. More than a match, my foot, she retorted in her head, and she could tell from Mad-Eye's derisive snort that he was thinking the same thing.

But Ted squeezed her fingers, and she returned his grip as though his hand were the only thing keeping her sane. Maybe, at that moment, it was.

"How did this happen?" asked Ted, pale-faced. "I mean, how did the whole thing happen? Why was there a battle at the Department of Mysteries?"

"I don't know the whole story," sighed Kingsley. "I don't think anyone knows the whole story except Dumbledore and maybe Harry. But I know Harry thought Voldemort" – Arthur flinched; Kingsley kept going – "had captured Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. He lured Harry there, and Harry took the bait."

"And then Sirius stormed in to rescue him," Ted breathed. Andromeda clenched her neck muscles tightly, trying to retain her composure, trying not to give in to the urge to either cry or jump up and hunt Bellatrix down. Ted's hand in hers still kept her grounded. "Of course."

Kingsley nodded. "The Order had to come in" – he nodded down at Nymphadora in her bed – "and then Dumbledore arrived and Voldemort himself showed up – and I'm not really sure what happened; I had to wait until Fudge called me, but I was one of the first Aurors on the scene and the whole place was chaos."

"Did they – did they get Bellatrix?" asked Ted. Andromeda's teeth ground together. There was no way they had managed to detain her – she was too powerful, and the way the others were talking about it made it clear that she had escaped. But if they could have caught her –

Kingsley shook his head. Mad-Eye grunted with displeasure from the back of the room. Remus simply sighed and drew a hand over his face.

Finally, Arthur spoke up. "Come on, you lot," he said. "Let's leave the Tonks family in peace."

The others nodded and got up. Bidding goodbye to Ted, Andromeda, and Nymphadora, they gathered their belongings and headed out the door, and then it was just the three of them.

"How are you feeling, Dora?" asked Ted, looking down at Nymphadora.

"Fine," she said grumpily. "I hate being in this bed when I could be doing – well – other things. More useful things. Like, for instance, hunting down Bellatrix and giving her her due."

Andromeda's hand inadvertently tightened around Ted's; he winced but said nothing, keeping his attention on Nymphadora, who was silent for a little while longer. Then she said, "That was his first time leaving the house since he took Harry to King's Cross in September."

There was no need for her to name him; they all knew who she was talking about. Andromeda cringed inwardly, thinking of the cousin she had known when she was younger – the one who was angry, the one who declared his rebellion, the one who overflowed with passion. He'd been so broken – so different – since his return from Azkaban. Being forced to stay in a house must have made it even worse.

"Dromeda . . ." Ted's voice trailed off. She realized that she was crushing his fingers and forced herself to loosen her grip.

"You know we don't talk about Bellatrix Lestrange very often," she said finally, speaking slowly and enunciating her words – making sure to emphasize Lestrange. Bellatrix was no sister of hers. "But I remember when I left home, she told me that I was a disgrace to the Black family name."

"So was Sirius," commented Nymphadora. "He was proud of it."

"I wasn't always," admitted Andromeda. "But now I'm glad that I left all connection to her behind long ago."

"So am I." Nymphadora shuddered and – seeming just then to notice that her hair was still the Black brown – changed many of her features in rapid succession. Her nose lengthened, her eyes turned wide and blue, and her hair popped into rainbow spikes. "That woman is no relation to me. Except for my future victim."

Her voice was vehement, and it almost scared Andromeda. Maybe it would have, except for the fact that the thought in her head was something like, Not if I get there first.

"Look on the bright side," interrupted Ted. "At least we got to have the best two Blacks in the bunch." He smiled softly at Andromeda, and she felt a little of the thrumming anger die away.

They sat in silence for a few moments longer, and then Nymphadora sighed deeply. "Mum, Dad, I'd like to be alone for a bit if that's all right."

Before Andromeda could say anything, Ted answered. "Of course it's all right, Dora. Just rest up and recover, alright? We'll come back tomorrow."

"Yes," agreed Andromeda, reluctant to leave her daughter but willing to respect her privacy. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Nymphadora's hairline. "We'll see you soon."

Andromeda held herself firmly together the whole way back. She exited St. Mungo's even more briskly than she had entered it; she forced her anger and grief and bloodlust down so that it wouldn't interfere with her Apparition; she practically dragged Ted along with her. Much as she hated her family, she tried to remember their lessons and retain her Black poise the whole way home.

It wasn't until they'd reached home that she let herself break down. But as soon as Ted shut the door behind them, she dropped onto the couch and sank her face into trembling hands.

"Dromeda . . ." Ted came over to her side and put his arm around her. She turned into him and laid her head on his shoulder.

"He was my favorite cousin, Ted," she murmured. Her voice cracked on the word "was," and she tried not to let her lip tremble.

Ted sighed. "I know." His shoulder jerked. "I liked him, too."

"I might not have married you if it hadn't been for him," she admitted, her voice now a raspy whisper. "He broke away from the family first – and he was so much younger than I was when he did it. I thought, if he has the courage to do it for his principles, then surely I can do it for love."

Ted sniffed, then let out a long, quivery breath. His shoulders jerked. "Then I owe him even more than I thought I did," he said quietly.

His arms tightened around her, and she, pressing her head against his shoulder, finally allowed her tears to fall.