AN: SPOILER ALERT. TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE NOT READ DH OR DO NOT WISH TO BE SPOILED.

The epilogue of DH would seemingly tie everything up into a neat little package, but I found there were still many ends left hanging. What happened to the Dursleys? What happened to Hermione's parents? Etc. So anyway, here's my take on what happened to some of the characters. They'll all be short drabbles, really, none longer than 500 words.
Learning to Breathe

Andromeda Tonks

Wars carried a heavy price, she knew. She'd seen it before. Seventeen years ago, she'd read about so many deaths. Every day, it seemed, she'd read about more and more in the paper. There had been so many lives – young and old, but all precious nonetheless - lost. She'd cried many nights for those she had known and would never see again and held silent vigils for those she would never meet.

Freedom is not free. It is paid for not only by Sickles and Galleons, but also by bloodshed, tears, and sacrifice. Seventeen years ago, she had learned what the cost of a war like this was.

But she had never fully understood it. Not until now.

She kneeled down and arranged the cheerful bouquet of daisies of all colours that she had brought with her. They had always been her daughter's favourite. Leaning over, she brushed her hand against the marble. Her fingers slowly traced the letters engraved in the cold, grey stone.

Nymphadora Tonks Lupin. Remus John Lupin. Underneath was a saying chosen by Harry: Fear nothing but fear itself.

Up until this point, she had been strong. In front of everyone else, everyone who had been so worried about her. She had held it back then. She had constantly reminded herself that she was not the only one in pain.

But now that she was alone, she could only think of her loss.

And so, here, alone, where no one could see, she grieved. She grieved for her husband who was killed because of blind prejudice and hate. She grieved for her son-in-law who had finally found peace with himself and the world. She grieved for her daughter who would never be able to watch her son grow. And most of all, she grieved for her young grandson who was robbed of his grandfather, his mother, his father, and the right to ever know or love them.

Teddy sat in his pram, oddly quiet. He was normally babbling and giggling, but now, he sat in a sort of respectful silence. She gently brushed his brilliantly blue hair.

They lived on in him, she knew. He carried his grandfather's name, his mother's unquenchable zest for life, and his father's kind and beautiful soul.

"Be good," she whispered. "Be good for them."

He smiled at her, not fully understanding what she was saying. His hair changed to a colour she knew too well. Bubble-gum pink.

She smiled too, a single tear falling down her cheek.