She doesn't dare to try attending the ceremony. Even if she slips in at the back, the rest of the family would notice and turn on her at once, and the last thing she wants is to cause an uproar. She can't even afford to be nearby on the day, not until they're all gone.

So she waits until dusk. She goes alone, because she won't risk her daughter, and Ted doesn't - can't - understand what it means to her. He has never understood why she accepted and reached out to her cousin, after he spent so long rejecting her, and she's never been able to explain. He's only ever wanted to protect her from all the pain... but there are some kinds of pain that nobody can protect her from.

Her breath comes in clouds of mist as she enters the graveyard, as she makes her way towards the Black family tombs, with the wind rustling the leafless trees and the snow crunching softly beneath her feet. She can't help but keep her hand closed tightly around her wand, flinching at every unexpected creak. There won't be anyone here now, she reminds herself, and steels herself as she approaches the the new grave that she knows is empty. The headstone is white marble, naturally. Nothing but the best for the heir of the House of Black.

In the dim light, she can just make out the inscription on the stone. The family crest tops it, and below:

Regulus Arcturus Black

Beloved son and nephew

Born 2nd January 1961

Died 12th December 1979

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

12th December 1979. A week ago. Nobody knows for sure that's when he died, but it's when they knew he was gone. His body was never found. She wants to believe it was quick. That he went down fighting. It's the only comfort she can cling to in the middle of this nightmare.

She hesitates as she raises her wand. Lilies might be fitting for death, but they don't seem right for him. Then she recalls Nymphadora showering him with the last of the summer flowers on one of his clandestine visits, after a session of flying tuition on her little broom. The pair of them were laughing and relaxed and safe enough, in her heavily warded garden, for Regulus to drop his guard for a little while and be an adoring "uncle" to her little girl. She even has pictures, though she keeps them hidden; a sight like that was worth getting the camera for.

Her wand whirls through the air, and a bouquet of the golden summer blooms, fragrant and fragile, appears in her hand. She kneels, ignoring the snow already melting through her robes, and lays her little tribute in amongst the mass of flowers already there.

Died 12th December 1979.

Regulus, her baby cousin, is dead, and Andromeda cannot hold back her grief any longer. She breaks down, sobbing quietly, begging him to forgive her if she played any part in his death, apologising over and over, saying how much she has loved him all these years -

The warmth of a cloak just taken from someone else's shoulders drapes over her, and she chokes herself off in fright.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. It's just me."

The shock gives way to relief. "I didn't know you were coming," she manages faintly, and lets Sirius help her up before hugging him tightly.

"I didn't know you were, either." He tries for a little grin but there's no energy for it. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

"I was just about done," she lies, squeezing him gently before letting go. "I can leave you in peace if you want to -"

"No!" he says sharply, though he instantly softens. "I - I mean, not yet. I just..." There's a visible internal struggle for a while as he gazes at the tombstone, and then suddenly he's clinging to her again, and this time he's the one crying and all she can do is hold him while he lets it out. This is how it's been since it all happened; they've turned to each other because... well, really, they have nobody else. Nobody who understands how much it hurts, in this shattered mess of a family they've got.

"He's my little brother, Andi," he sobs into her shoulder. "I didn't want - I should've - I should've tried harder to -"

"You did try. He was stubborn. Both of you were - we all are - it's something we can't help."

"I left him." The words wrack her with guilt as well, and she hugs him tighter. She walked out on them, too, when they were just children, and left them to the mercies of their family. She can't help but wonder if her actions turned her cousins down their paths; Sirius became more independent of his family, and Regulus became more dependent on them. Maybe that's what drove them apart.

"You couldn't have lived there any longer," she says finally, as his fit of grief begins to subside. "And he wouldn't have gone with you unless you forced him. You were both doing what you thought was right."

"Why couldn't he have seen sense before he joined those murdering bastards?" he croaks, letting go of her at last and letting her wipe his tears away.

"He was young," she says, her voice shaking. "People make a lot of impulsive decisions when they're young. You did. I did."

"He joined Voldemort, Andi."

"And then decided he didn't want to be part of it any more. He saw what he was becoming, and he tried to get out."

"And look how well that went," Sirius retorts bitterly, turning to the grave again. "Stupid, stupid idiot." Even as he speaks, however, the tears begin rolling down his face again. There's silence for a few moments, and Andromeda squeezes his hand gently. It's all she can do.

"I'm sorry, Reg," he says finally, and there's a crack in his voice. "I'm sorry. I mean it. I should've straightened things out with you. I should've been there... but I - I won't let them get away with this."

Andromeda gulps back her own tears, and pushes away the thought that the war could take him too.

As the last daylight fades, leaving them standing in a semi-darkness where she can barely make out his outline, Sirius heaves a sigh and turns away. "We should probably go," he says quietly. "Unless you want to stay a bit longer?"

"No, I'm fine," she replies, and keeps hold of his hand as they make their way very carefully back out of the cemetery. "If you'd like, you can come back to my house. Ted won't mind, and Nymphadora certainly won't."

"Thanks, but James's been fussing over me all week and he made me promise I'd drop in when I was done." He makes a rueful face, but there's a hint of a smile in there, and she feels a little glow of warmth all over again for the boy who took Sirius in when he desperately needed it.

"That's fine by me. Just as long as you've got someone." As they leave, the gate clicking shut behind them,she sighs. "We're going to get through this," she says softly. "One way or another."

"I know. And... thanks for staying with me. I don't think I could've done it alone." There's a wobble for a moment, but he's hitched up his confident face again and she knows he's going to hold onto that. The shields never stay down for long.

"Any time," she says, and they both know she means it. Before things can get too emotional again, she leans up and kisses his cheek. "Come and see us soon, all right? Nymphadora's going to want to see you and make sure you're safe." That's true, but she also knows he'd do anything for her daughter and bringing her into it will just make extra sure.

"Promise." He enfolds her in a bearhug for a moment, then steps back. "See you later, Andi. Take care."

"You too." They share one last smile, and then part ways. The grief's still there, but as long as they have each other, it's bearable.