I'll See You Tomorrow, Baby


Tonks sat quietly in her rocking chair, cradling baby Teddy in her arms. It was soothing, running her hand back and forth across his little tuft of hair, his smooth stomach, his fat little toes. She felt calmer than she had in a long time, just sitting here, watching the sun set through the bubbled glass window.

Teddy began to drool in his sleep, and she was just reaching up with the sleeve of her robe to wipe the spit away when the door to the nursery banged open. She jumped, but little Teddy slumbered on.

It was Remus. There was a frazzled look about him, and one could see he was bursting with news. Before he delivered it, however, he spared a quick, loving glance at his son, which he then transferred onto his wife as he spoke.

"It's happening, Dora. It's started."

Tonks frowned slightly. "Remus, what? I-"

"This is it. We're fighting."

Tonks' eyes widened in understanding, and then crinkled again as she lowered her brow. "You're not going, Remus."

He stared at her as if she belonged in an asylum. "Don't be ridiculous, Dora! Of course I'm going. Everyone's already there; Harry, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort's on his way. Hogwarts, I mean." His breath had begun to come in short, sharp gulps; he realised and quite deliberately slowed it down.

"I don't care, Remus. You're not going."

"Why? Give me one good reason not to go and help defeat the man who murdered your father, Dora. Just one."

Tonks flinched at his words, and Remus blanched, approaching her cautiously. He reached out a hand and laid it across her cheek. She held her head stiff at first, but then gave into the temptation and turned her face into his palm. He sighed, and she closed her eyes. She could feel very faintly the pulse in his hand.

All was silence, except the breathing of those two and the babe.

Tonks took a shaky breath. "How will I raise Teddy, Remus, if he doesn't have a father?" She opened her eyes to see his response to her words.

Remus stared at her for a long minute, as if memorising this moment, engraining it in his memory forever. "Who says he won't, Dora?" he finally whispered, leaning so close she could feel the puff of breath he released on her lips. "Who says I won't come home? Because I will, I promise."

Tonks looked through her lashes at him. In the dim light of the room, the scars across his face were hardly visible. She wanted desperately to believe him, wanted so badly to trust that he would come back to her. Don't make promises you can't keep, she thought.

But she didn't say it out loud.

Remus took her silence for an answer, and leaned forward that last little distance to close the gap between them with his lips on hers. The kiss was short, and felt sweet to Tonks, but in it she could also taste sadness.

They drew apart, and she could see the grief in his gaze. He sighed again, then, and drew back, straightening. "I love you, Dora," he murmured softly, his hand still cupping her cheek. She nodded into it. "And I'll see you again, and Teddy." She nodded. "I promise," he said quietly, and wiped away the tear that was sliding down her face.

Tonks closed her eyes once more, and she heard Remus sigh again. She felt him bend over and kiss Teddy's wrinkled forehead, so serious in sleep. But she didn't look up.

Remus brushed the hair from her own brow, said he loved her again. Tonks didn't say a word.

It was only once he turned from her, and was silhouetted in the doorway that she opened her eyes the tiniest crack, and spoke three words in a barely audible voice. "I love you." She felt, rather than saw, her husband start, but before she could say anything more, he was gone.


Andromeda stepped through the doorway into the living room of her house, Teddy settled snugly into her arms. She flicked on the light, glanced up from her grandson's adorable face, and shrieked.

A looming dark shape was making its way towards the door, shadowed by the towering bookcases on both sides and the dim illumination. It jumped as she screamed, but almost immediately, Andromeda recognised who it was.

"I thought you said you were going to bed, Nymphadora." Try as she might, Andromeda couldn't hide the quaver from her voice as she spoke.

Tonks steeped into the pool of light, the look on her face a cross between guilt, apology and relief. "Mum, I have to go. I have to see if he's alright-"

"If he's alright? Dora, he's almost forty years old. Teddy's the one who needs mothering, not Remus!" Even in the dim light Andromeda could see her daughter blush.

"Mum, I have to go. You don't understand, I have to-"

"Have to? You don't have to do anything, Dora!" Andromeda was close to tears now. It happened quite often these days; too often, she thought. Ever since Ted had been murdered (and how she quivered at the thought!) she was far closer to her breaking point than she had ever been.

"Mum, I'm going, and you can't stop me."

"Of course I can, I'm your mother, and I'm-" She stopped in the act of approaching Tonks. Her daughter's arm was extended, wand in hand, and was pointing right at Andromeda.

"I'll do it, Mum, you know I will." Andromeda could see Tonks' arm shaking, could see the fear in her now warm brown eyes, but she didn't doubt her daughter's words. Feeling as though her world were crashing down around her, Andromeda nodded, and Tonks' arm withdrew. They were both breathing heavily.

"Just say goodbye then, Dora. Say goodbye to your son." Tonks gave her mother a very strange look.

"It's not like I won't be coming home, Mum." The hollowness of her words hung in the air between the family of three. Andromeda shifted her weight from left foot to right. Tonks came forward and lifted her son into her own arms; she rocked him gently, smoothing down his hair, kissing his forehead. "Mummy loves you, Teddy," she whispered into his ear. "Daddy loves you. I'll see you tomorrow, baby."

Andromeda took back her grandson from her daughter's arms, and the two women stared at one another for a long moment. The elder opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Tonks had turned and thrown open the front door. Andromeda hurried after, a question hanging on her lips-

But with a resounding crack, her daughter was gone.


The heavy sound of a doorknocker rang through the house, and though it was barely dawn, Andromeda was already hurrying down the stairs moments after the first knock. She flung open the door. "Nymphadora, it's about time you came…"

Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing in the doorway, his robes somewhat lighter and more durable than his usual heavy attire.

"…home."

Kingsley lowered his head, not meeting her eyes. "Andromeda. May I come in?"

Without making a single sound, she stepped backwards, letting the tall, dark stranger into her house. She gestured mutely for him to take a seat. He didn't move.

"Voldemort is defeated," he announced. "A mere hour ago, Andromeda." She nodded.

"And…and my daughter?"

Kingsley looked up for the first time, meeting Andromeda's questing eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice dull and heavy with sadness. "Tonks and Remus…didn't make it through."

The world had ended…had it not? For surely, surely what Kingsley was saying must be a lie, or perhaps she was dreaming, for surely, surely her daughter and Remus couldn't be dead, couldn't be gone…

Her mouth seemed to be acting of its own accord, however. "Who?" It was a simple question, but the way Kingsley stared down at her, the way his eyes turned down at the corners, made the news all the harder to bear.

"Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange," he murmured, his gaze sliding away from Andromeda's face and coming to rest an inch or so above her head. "Lestrange killed your daughter, and Dolohov Remus. I'm…I'm supposed to be at the Ministry, but I thought…I thought it best for me to tell you, instead of…"

There his voice trailed off, but Andromeda could guess at his words. Instead of a faceless stranger, telling you he was sorry for something he didn't know anything about.

"If there…is anything I can do for you, Andromeda, anything-"

"Can you bring people back from the dead, Mr Shacklebolt?" Her voice was colder than she intended it to be, but somehow it didn't matter. Nothing would matter anymore, nothing, because without her daughter, life was meaningless…

And then with a sudden clarity of mind that burst through the fogginess, Andromeda remembered her grandson, sleeping peacefully up in the nursery where only hours ago his mother had held him, his father had kissed his head. She closed her eyes.

"No, Andromeda. I cannot."

"Then leave. Please." Andromeda's voice cracked on the last word, and she only opened her eyes once she heard the front door click closed. It was a plodding journey up the stairs, then, that followed, that led her to Teddy's bedroom. She stopped in the doorway, looking over at her grandson's peaceful slumber. His hair was the exact shade as his father's in sleep…

And just like that, without any warning, Andromeda's knees crumpled beneath her and she fell, down, down, down, blacking out before she reached the floor.

It was then that little Teddy Remus Lupin awoke, and gazed around with the confused innocence of the young as he wondered just where his family might be. He wondered if his mother would jump up from the floor and tickle him, or if his father would ruffle his hair, or if his grandmother would rock him gently to slumber.

But Teddy soon stopped wondering, and fell back asleep, the last remaining link to the Lupin family tree.


Author's Note: This idea sprang into my mind during netball training, and when I came home I just had to type it up before it disappeared. So...thoughts?