Author's Note: Always wondered about the events in a story that happened in the sidelines or because of the point of view simply couldn't see it. I loved to experiment with this known, but mysterious events—put my spin in it. This is one of the many interpretations of how I think the aftermath of Ted's death happened—how Andromeda reacted when she knew. This was inspired of something, but I can't remember what now. This is a revised version since FFN doesn't do strikethroughs now, apparently. But it's not much of a change. However, if you want to see the full version of the fic you can find it on my Tumblr or in AO3. But anyway, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome.

Dromeda,

I never knew what to say in these things.

Right now you're probably thinking that I should have talked to you instead.

But talking to you—saying what I'm about to say to you in person… is something I can't do. I've no courage for it, my love, and I am so sorry. Maybe by the end of this you'll understand. Maybe not. You can call me a coward. You can call me a million other insults you will think of. But I just

I can't. I can't bear to see you hurt. It would break my heart further.

You were hurt because of me, Dromeda. When we didn't reunite straight away after the hols I knew something was wrong. Deep in my heart I sensed I was the cause, but at the same time I didn't know what to do. I was too afraid to ask you directly.

I heard stories. Things that kept me up at night. And then I heard the truth from you. I was horrified. Disgusted. Your own family. To think they'd do such a thing to you.

But, really, I was more disgusted at myself. It was my selfishness that did this to you in the first place.

I think I always knew that we had no chance of a happy end. But I didn't care. I wanted you. You had my heart the moment our eyes met. With you, I forgot the world even existed. I was filled with you. I loved you too openly. It barely crossed my mind how being with me would affect you. I failed to protect you. I know this is not enough, but… I'm sorry. I am so, very sorry.

This letter is me letting you go. This time is not for us, my love. It's too dangerous—most of all for you. If anything happens to you because of me I won't be able to live with myself. Your safety is my priority. In the future, perhaps, when everything is at peace, we can try again. But for now, I want you safe. This is the only way. Please understand.

This is goodbye. But I want you to remember, Dromeda, that I love you. I love you. With all of my heart. You are strong and wise. You are most resilient and it has been my privilege to know and love you. You will survive this and you will survive whatever ordeal comes your way. I know this in my very being.

If things become overwhelming—if you lose strength or confidence or if you feel uncertain then please remember that I love you. I always will. And that I believe in you. Always. Though we are no longer together, I will give you my strength—wherever our separated paths may take us.

So whatever happens

No matter what the future has in store for us

You carry on, Dromeda. You carry on.

Eternally Yours,

Ted

The ink had faded on the yellowing parchment. The creases imprinted on it had been thinned by the years to the point that a tug could tear it in two. Smiling sadly, Andromeda handled the missive with care. Her eyes ran over the narrow, left-slanted script, heart twinging as each word assailed her with memories. It was uncanny, how similar the past was to the present—the details were so similar that she had to wonder if the First War had really ended.

Ted wrote the letter in seventh year. He managed to slip it in her trunk without her knowledge. Only when she had reached home and unpacked did she find it. She wept when she read it, of course she did. However, instead of despairing she decided to be furious. How dare he? She apparated to his house the same day. You could have at least given me a proper one, you wanker! Were the words she yelled at him the moment she found him. As she waited for his blubbering explanations she decided then and there to act on the decision she had already made the moment she met Ted—she went on to marry the daft man. Her family disowned her as a result.

It was the best decision she had ever made in her life.

Now here they were. A time of peace came. They tried again. For a time Andromeda was certain that this was it. Finally. But it was as though nothing had changed. Ted had to leave again. And this time she couldn't do a thing about it.

If things become overwhelming—if you lose strength or confidence or if you feel uncertain then please remember that I love you. I always will. And that I believe in you. Always. Andromeda recalled the words, shaking her head against the pain it left in her chest. Optimistic. She had to be optimistic. She folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket. They had the Chosen One now. Dora was happy and about to be a mother soon. Things were infinitely better now than before. Ted would return safely. Andromeda must hold on to that. One day the war would end. Ted would be back and finally. Finally a quiet life.

"You'll come back," she whispered, patting her pocket. She resumed packing and hiding Ted's things. She was halfway finished when she heard banging and distressed voices downstairs. She rose to her feet and pulled out her wand. She concealed Ted's possession before approaching the door to hear better. The commotion grew louder. Not long after, Andromeda heard footsteps stomping up. She gripped her wand and backed away. Fear sparked in her heart, forcing it to pump erratically, and she swallowed hard. Her family flashed in her mind and despite her fear, she prayed that whatever happened next they'd reunite. As the footsteps approached the door, she situated herself in front of the only window in the room, prepared to jump—

The door banged open as Dora burst in. Her distended belly swelled gently under her loose robes. Tears streamed down her red and puffy face. Upon seeing Andromeda, Dora whimpered and without a word, threw her arms around her neck.

Andromeda stumbled back. She returned the embrace, but did not relax. "What happened?" she demanded, stroking Dora's hair. She lifted her daughter's face and wiped away the tears. "Are you all right? Is it the child?"

Dora's face crumpled. She shook her head just as Remus entered. He was pale, making the scars on his face stand out. He looked better than Dora, but visibly shaken. As he stepped beside Dora, she sobbed and buried her face in Andromeda's neck. The lack of information and Dora's hysterics nearly drove Andromeda mad with worry.

"Andromeda—"

"She is in a state," Andromeda snapped at him. What did he do to Dora this time? "What in the world happened?"

Remus' eyes widened and he hesitated. He looked so lost and broken. But his pause didn't last for too long. He opened his mouth, but closed it. He licked his lips, released a harsh sigh, and looked away before opening his mouth again. This time, he managed to croak out a word. "It's…"

Andromeda watched him trail off. This pause stretched on longer than the first one. Dread replaced her impatience. At the back of her mind, things began to piece together—Dora's distress, Remus avoiding her eyes. Yet at the same time she had difficulty understanding. "Remus," Andromeda said, voice low and trembling. "What's wrong?"

Remus looked at her. "It's… it's Ted."

Her stomach dropped. "What?"

"Th-there were snatchers. Found him and the group he travelled with—"

A loud rushing sound crashed in Andromeda's ears. Remus' mouth continued to move, but she no longer heard anything properly. His words sounded muffled, distorted—like a malfunctioning wireless. Gravity pulled her down as her knees gave, but she couldn't feel it. Not even as Dora's arms caught her. As she sunk, the letter dug gently into her hip, violently dragging her back to reality. Dora's voice—thick, desperate, and high-pitched, called her repeatedly. Remus' own underneath it—no longer muffled, but subdued and full of grief.

"… fought. Ted fought Hard. He resisted. Saved the others."

"No," Andromeda choked as Dora rocked her. This couldn't be true. "No, no, no, no, no…"

Remus knelt before her and took her hand, which she gripped with her all her strength. She stared at him, eyes wide and tears filling at the rims. She was on the verge of falling apart. She shook her head at him, pleading. Remus' mouth set in a thin line and shook his own head, slowly. "I'm sorry. I am so—so sorry, Andromeda."

Tears spilled from Andromeda's eyes as her face crumpled. She bowed her head and leaned heavily against Dora as a loud sob escaped her. Dora tightened her embrace, but that offered no comfort. This was not supposed to happen. Ted was meant to come back. Meant to be with her. They were supposed to have a quiet life together. Immense pressure settled on her chest and grew, bigger and bigger, compressing her lungs, squeezing her stomach, and seizing her throat. He was meant to return. She couldn't breathe. As she struggled to take air in, the blunt corner of Ted's letter brushed against her hip once more. Remember that I love you. That I will always love you. Sharp pain stabbed in her gut, tore into her heart. Andromeda gripped Dora's robes as she released a rough, broken, and heart-wrenching wail.