.definingmoments.
It scares her sometimes to look into her daughter's ever-changing eyes.
They are bright and beautiful and so very alive, rich in colour and mirth. Yet they also betray determination, stubbornness and a fiery resolve. They show that Nymphadora Tonks gets her own way. Dora's natural eyes are deepest black and shine like starlight, and Andromeda prefers these to any of the other colours that her daughter wears. Her eyes somehow do not look right in baby blue, or startling green, or even the deep velvety purple hue she often chooses. Her eyes belong to black, and can never be done justice in any other colour.
She knows the vivacity and the steely resolve of those eyes better than even her own, and remembers the others she saw with that same look.
The girl, who had once been so innocent, had viewed the world through untroubled eyes. The girl who had once only seen the good, as Dora does. The girl she had looked up to for all those years, and had aspired to be like.
The girl who has been poisoned by that same world, who now cannot see the full spectrum and whose eyes no longer twinkle and dance but glare and hate and breed misery.
The boy, who had once been so pure and whole, and had defied the sleek, silky cold of green and silver for the bold warmth of red and gold. The boy whom she had always secretly admired and envied, because he had had the strength of character to do what was right even at the tender age of eleven, something she had failed to do.
The boy who has sold his friends and his red-and-gold soul to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and has become the very thing he sought to escape so long ago on his first day of Hogwarts.
It scares Andromeda sometimes to look into Dora's eyes because they once belonged to a sister she lost and a cousin she thought she knew.
You see, Nymphadora Tonks's eyes belong to Black, and can never be done justice in any other colour.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dora's career choice does not surprise her, but fear still hits her like a ton of bricks when her daughter signs up for Auror training.
Andromeda has worked so hard in keeping her family far far away from evil. She couldn't save her sisters from the Dark, but she could damn well protect her husband and daughter from ever coming into contact with them. She remembered when, during the war, she and Ted were approached to join the Order. Ted had wanted to fight for their beliefs, but Andromeda had begged him to stay away.
Evil had stolen so much from her; she was not letting her husband fall victim to it too. So the Tonks family had stayed in hiding and Andromeda had known that she would not sleep soundly until Bellatrix Lestrange was locked away or dead.
They survived the war, and Bella is rotting in Azkaban, but the nightmares of loss never cease. The fear Andromeda had for her family stays incessant through the years, though they never again find themselves in any immediate danger.
She tells herself she is being silly, and Ted tells her she is being silly, and Dora tells her she is being silly, for the war is long gone and He is dead. Dora says that the most she'll ever need to deal with is petty criminals like that Mundungus Fletcher who sells stolen cauldrons on street corners, yet the fear increases ten-fold anyway.
She puts away her worries for a moment, smiles and wishes her daughter luck, but a rather large part of her wishes that Dora had decided to be a herbologist, a professor, a healer, anything but an Auror.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
When she opens the Daily Prophet one morning, and reads of the death of Amos Diggory's son, she is absolutely terrified, because it doesn't matter what Fudge is telling the press, if Dumbledore says He's back then it's true, and that can mean only one thing.
War.
She knows that Dora will hear of the Order through Alastor Moody, her mentor at the Ministry. She knows beyond any shred of a doubt that she will sign up at once, because she knows her daughter better than Dora knows herself.
And she can tell that she has joined, because she is tired and drawn-looking on the rare occasions she visits. Andromeda worries herself half-to-death, and can barely sleep at night, because Dora is fighting that which holds no mercy or remorse, that which had claimed everything of hers that fate and chance threw in its path.
What hurts her the most is the knowledge that there is nothing she can do to stop it, except hope and pray that her daughter will be spared, although she knows from experience that hoping and praying is useless against the Dark Mark and those that yield it.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
She has always sought, above all else, to protect her family.
It is a maternal instinct, and Dora understands that as she tenderly kisses baby Teddy's tiny forehead before handing him to his gran. Her eyes meet her mothers for a brief second and there is no need for an exchange of words.
Andromeda knows what her daughter is about to do, and she silently begs and pleads with her daughter to stay, because for once Remus is right, she has to live for her son's sake.
Dora silently tells her mother that it's what she has to do, her duty, and that this is the final stand and if she isn't there then she will hate herself forever. And, no matter what he'd like to believe, she knows that Remus needs her there with him.
In that small second Andromeda understands and knows that she would have done the same for Ted in a fraction of a heartbeat, and that it is not a matter of choosing her husband over her son. Who knows, she might come back in a few hours time, injured but victorious and happy and finally safe.
Andromeda doubts this, but she lets the eye contact break, and pulls Dora in for a hug before she rushes away to the battle.
Somehow, she knows that this is the last time she will ever see her daughter alive, yet she still lets her go because that is what she has to do. She isn't surprised when Minerva McGonagall calls her to the school and she sees the two peaceful corpses side by side. Not surprised, just devastated beyond any form of comprehension, and she breaks down right there in the middle of the Great Hall.
And she knows that she has failed, that they are all gone, everyone but the sleeping baby in her arms is dead, and the guilt crushes her through strangled sobs while she cradles her orphaned grandson to her. Nymphadora had never, ever been safe in this world, and she has died to make sure her son will live in a world where there is no need for fear.
Andromeda knows that Teddy is safe and that he will outlive her, and she is glad because her heart could not take any more loss, and with that she can finally let go of her fear.
Meh, I pretty much hate the end of this, but I can't quite bear to delete it. Reviews are love!