One shot, written for several prompts at Hogwarts, which can be found at the end.
Enjoy and leave me your thoughts before you go, please.
Word count – 1,353
As We Revolve Around the Sun
oOo Spring oOo
She takes him as hers to raise in the spring, after the battle that ended the war and her life with it. The infant is all she has now, and it does not feel like it is enough. Not enough to tether her to living when so many people she loves no longer do.
She vows to keep this Edward safe and sound. She will raise him right, and lovingly. She will cherish him. But, most importantly, she will keep him safe. So she shields him from the world, shielding them both, for those first few months.
She relishes that loneliness. That quiet ease she always craved when she was a child, that thing she only accomplished in Ted's arms in this house, watching over their storm of a daughter. But the price she paid for calm this time is so very high that she fears she might hold him accountable in the end.
She forces her mind to turn elsewhere, time and time again until it gives up on the path altogether. She fills her mind with affection, with care, with the caramel scent of that spot on her grandson's head, with the softness of his skin when she dresses and bathes him.
By the time Teddy smiles and gurgles at her, her mind has forgotten that such paths even exist.
oOo Summer oOo
With the warmth, Andromeda allows her walls of ice against the world to falter. She does not let them crumble, she needs them for the protection of Teddy, but she creates doors. The first is for Harry Potter, the godfather that had respected her need for privacy at the beginning but is starting to resent it. She allows him in only because she recognizes the haunting in his eyes. He needs to be around Teddy so that he can heal. She knows that feeling all too well. It wouldn't be right to keep the balm-child all to herself.
Harry loves carrying the little boy about the house, talking to him endlessly about furniture and rooms he has no clue about, creating fantasies and could-have-beens that keep the boy alert. He brings colourful toys that have Teddy reaching and turning on his belly, weaving them into his stories too. Mostly, he tells him of his parents. There is a shadow over his voice, but Andromeda can't even bring the name of her daughter to her lips without dissolving into tears, so she is grateful that someone will tell Teddy about her.
She enjoys the late summer afternoons out in the garden, watching the light play through the blue on the little boy's head, as he sits happily splashing his juice all over, exploring the small immensity of the quilt, pulling threads here and there, almost crawling, more like dragging his body, to the edges.
Andromeda never lets him out of the quilt, always catches him just at the edge of the real world.
oOo Autumn oOo
With the cooler days comes the rain that Andromeda loves. The pitter-patter of it on the windows brings her comfort, out of the depths of her memories. Teddy seems to like it too, turning his head to the sound whenever it comes, raising slightly on her lap to reach for the window.
The house isn't so quiet when it's just the two of them now. The boy is happy to make all the sounds, playing with vowels and consonants and making up words that are utter nonsense to anyone but her. A little sound and a reach of his hand and she can always tell what he wants.
She finds the joy in singing once more, with the nursery rhymes and lullabies he so expertly pries away from her with a sound and a touch of his hands on her lips. He bobs his head along, sometimes clapping. Other times he just settles into the crook of her neck, forcing every inch of himself into her skin, and stays very still, enjoying her calming heartbeat.
His conversations with Potter become lively comedies, as they talk and talk in that language that is their own, often until one of them succumbs to sleep. He doesn't just walk about the house with Teddy in his arms now. He veritably has to chase him down the corridors and across rooms once her grandson finds the wonders of moving on all fours.
oOo Winter oOo
Anything and everything becomes a toy. It's all worth exploring by his still clumsy hands that twist and turn objects before his eyes, that bang things on all sorts of surfaces, stopping the second Andromeda shakes her head.
He starts standing, holding on to tables, and chairs, and drawers, and all sorts of unsteady things that have her and his godfather panting in distress for most of the day. They find that holding his hands and walking with him about the house is safer, so they forfeit healthy backs and thread along.
It's well into the new year when Teddy puts together two sounds and creates the most precious word.
Mama.
The pain is immense the first time it happens, but she forces her joy to overcome it. It is also the first time she manages to tell him of his mother. She witnesses the same painful joy in Harry's eyes, when he calls him Papa.
It takes them weeks, but eventually Teddy starts using those two words only when pointing at pictures around the house. And their hearts don't hurt has much when he does, because they become 'Wanma' and 'Awy'. Teddy knows about his parents. He also knows about who loves him here.
oOo Spring oOo
With the flowers comes the dread. Andromeda fears the day of Teddy's birthday, and some more. She will have to let other past her walls of ice. Teddy shows her that she simply must when he crawls away from the quilt every day, when he starts taking wobbling steps out of it, stepping on the grass and laughing at the way it makes his feet tickle.
The day Ted was killed comes and she feels like staying in bed all day. Harry comes in trough the Floo and watches over Teddy all day, making sure to take some tea and biscuits upstairs during the boy's nap. She doesn't move, she simply rests there, on the bed that used to be his too, feeling her tears soak the pillow and the sheets. At night, she rises with the sound of her balm-child crying and holds on to him tightly. He is her tether. He is enough.
Fir his birthday, other worries arise. Harry gives her the chance to gather with the others in some other place, his place, Grimmauld Place. She shudders at the thought, but forces her mind to see the difference now. The house is no longer the Black's, the world is no longer the same. She kept herself and her boy shielded from it, but now she must acknowledge the changes.
Teddy loves his birthday. He is walked and carried about the house by everyone, and never cries. All he does is look at her. If she nods her head and smiles, he happily stretches his arms towards another new acquaintance. He shrieks giddily when they sing to him and his fast asleep on his grandmother's arms before they leave for their refuge.
Then the day she truly feared comes. Harry can't stay. The war hero must go and participate on the festivities of the Dark Lord's defeat.
The festivities of her daughter's death.
But Teddy doesn't let her fade away into sorrow, doesn't let the mourning hold her captive. Because Teddy figures he can open the front door if he pushes a stool against it and climbs.
Andromeda catches him on the brink of the front steps. She sits there with him for a while, playing, and then realizes what she must do.
She will walk out into the world with Teddy, always by his side, always keeping him safe, but out they must go. She doesn't have to let her icy walls crumble, she can make a door for herself and come back whenever she needs to.
Author's Notes: Prompts and Challenges
Gardening Task #3: Seasons - Write a fic that spans a year
Mother's Day: about a child growing up
