Ugh, this somehow ended up being integral into the story, and has been added to.

Someone get my muse some ADHD medication, please.

I am however, enjoying writing again!

Credit for the kids' scene goes to reviewer Lokina odinsdottir.

Luna Lovegood saw things differently than most of the people in her world.

For most of her life outside The Rookery, she had been ridiculed and forced to act even more dreamy than she felt in an effort to protect herself from the cruelty of a world that only saw and heard in black and white.

Then she had made friends. She'd been so happy! They'd even helped rescue her, even if she hadn't been the main objective, they had taken her back to safety- even after her father had gotten them attacked.

Then the war had ended and she had glimpsed the paths of the future. Nothing had been right. Harry and Neville were leaving Earth, leaving her. She had gotten friendly with others, but tired, burdened Harry and weary, strained Neville had always had time for her, even when she was more lost than usual in things that others couldn't see, taste, smell, touch, or hear.

Then, when Harry had come to see her, she had gotten a glimpse of where they was going, and she didn't want to remain on a world where she was friendless. However, she also saw the 'Death of Magic', and she knew she didn't have much time.

It had taken a few years, but she had crafted a ritual.

The mass of Runes and Magical Arithmetic equations sprawl over the floor, walls, and ceiling of the basement of The Rookery. There are materials that she has gathered from all over the world scattered at key points, and all that is left is the draining of her life force- the magic within her blood.

Luna Lovegood would not be left behind, not again, not when she could be useful to her friends this time around.

She raises the elegant Ritual Knife that has been in her family since the time of the Druids to her throat, and it glides through the flesh as if it is paper. As her blood spills from the wound, a brilliant scarlet against her pale skin, she smiles.

Wait for me, Harry. Wait for me, Neville. I'm coming.

Andromeda watched as Teddy walked away, backpack thrown over his shoulder and hand waving lazily back at her, posture relaxed but unyielding. She had long hoped to see more of Nymphadora in him and now her daughter was all she could see, Remus would have pushed past the hurt and held on, but Nym had been entirely able to hold on to grudges. It was the Black blood.

Teddy was never going to forgive her.

Honestly, she would never forgive herself.

Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom had been declared dead more than fifteen years ago, their Wills read, and material possessions dispersed. Ashamedly, she and most others had been relieved. After the Second War, Voldemort and Dumbledore had both passed, and Harry Potter was the only one who had the power and charisma to take their place- for better or for worse. So they had attended the memorials of the two scarred young men who had given everything and moved on, secretly grateful that there were no powerhouses left who could once again tip the world into chaos.

They were probably better off, the people whispered to each other in their homes and hearts and workplaces. Those poor lads, they had lost so much, they were so damaged, and they could have become dangerous, better to leave on a high note, the poor dears.

So the heroes of the war grew, married, and had babies- settling down to live the good life at last.

But then, years passed and nothing had truly changed.

Everything that had facilitated the first and second comings of Voldemort festered. The Pureblood families had less influence and power, but they knew how to wield it. If one knew what to look for you could see the framework of the old system outfitted with prettier words and purely legal practices. No Crucios or Imperios but good working hours and attractive benefits.

Before the people realized that they had willingly given up everything that had been won in blood during the first and second comings it was too late.

A handful of years and a bloodless revolution later and the British Wizarding World had lost all of her forward momentum. Prettier, brighter, and humane as it was it wasn't what the fighters had fought for- and after centuries of stagnation, war, and exodus she was dying.

The Purebloods had just started enjoying the fruits of their careful labors when it started.

Then the magical creatures- beings who were intimately entwined with magic- started dying. No warning, no reason, just here one moment and gone the next. Magical plants were next- they started flowering poorly and soon refused to grow at all. Wards started corroding. Enchanted items became inert. Charms became moot as they would dispel nearly as soon as they were cast. Transfigurations slowly became obsolete as they refused to hold.

The Ministry tried to cover it up, alternately blamed the deceased Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom and spouted that their heroes would save them, that they wouldn't leave the people to their fate. Not when the Potters and Longbottoms had given everything. The panicked Ministry had tried to access the Potter, Black, and Longbottom properties and their vaults- to see if they had done something if they could fix this-, but Harry and Neville had made their wishes unyielding and had specified harsh penalties.

Now there is even a cult that worships Voldemort, begging him to save them. They started sacrificing young magicals, but magic failed them and they were caught by muggles. The Ministry by that point couldn't get the Obliviates to hold, their wands refusing to cast the power-intensive spell, and the cultists were left to their fate, as were everyone who followed them. Books of magic crumbled into dust, their writing lost to the earth. Even when rewritten in normal, modern ink the words simply bled into indecipherable gibberish.

The people were lost, bereft, as frightened children seeking comfort- begging to be saved.

Only, now there was no Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom to shoulder their burdens and lead them.

Then International Confederation of Wizards published their findings and made every magical household in Britain received a copy.

Starting seven years, five months, three days and two hours after Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom's last trace (an apparition from Diagon Alley) of magic dispersed, magic had begun rebelling.

The ley lines were collapsing.

The ley lines.

Magic was dying.

First just in Britain, but the issue had spread all over Europe quickly, and by now it was a worldwide crisis. Naturally spiritual areas, such as China, Japan, and Egypt were still generating magic normally, but aside from the ancient sites and the magic that they imbued unto the caretakers, everything was collapsing.

Now, a little over fifteen years after their disappearance the very last vestiges of magic were draining from the Witches and Wizards. The ICW estimated that in another year Hogwarts would begin the final stages of deterioration, and once Hogwarts, which sat atop the thickest bundle of ley lines on the continent, fell everything else would shortly follow.

Witches and Wizards should expect their magic to stop replenishing by the New Year and within the month of January it would fade entirely.

By this time next year their race would be extinct. Perhaps a child with a knack for knowing when a person was lying, or with the ability to predict the rain, but nothing like what they would have once been- an arrogant people brought low by their own hubris.

And those of them that were past their prime, who were existing on the longevity that came from having the internal well of power they called magic, would more than likely fade quickly.

The goblins had converted everyone's gold before they died, deep in their tunnels- those that hadn't died naturally being crushed when the tunnels collapsed.

But that wasn't the worst part for Andromeda.

The worst part was that now Teddy knew that his godfather- the man she had pretended hadn't existed when he had asked for 'Unca' Hawwy' as a baby- had loved him more than the man had ever loved anything. Harry must have sensed the storm, because he had instructed the goblins to convert all the Potter and Black gold to pounds and dollars and invest aggressively.

So, now, Teddy had an immeasurable fortune and a priceless set of letters from a broken man who loved him as one loves the only family they have left.

Harry had told Teddy everything, and when Teddy had looked in the eye and asked if Harry's panic attack was the reason she hadn't let Harry be alone with him anymore, she couldn't lie.

Harry had asked Teddy to understand, but Teddy didn't have Harry's heart. All he knew was that his godfather had saved the fucking world at the same age as Teddy was now and everyone had decided that taking care of the broken man who gave everything for them was too much effort.

It broiled and burnt and stung and Teddy hated them.

Hated her.

The worst part was….

Andromeda hated herself too.

Hermione Granger-Weasley stared out at the Hogwarts Castle Grounds.

Not that they were much to see anymore.

There had been a time when these grounds had taken Hermione's breath away. When the very land seemed to sing of magic, but now there was only the whisper of a funeral march.

Harry…..

Even now she couldn't think his name without feeling a deep rush of shame.

In the aftermath of the Final Battle she'd been high off Ron retuning her affections, desperate to return her parent's memories, and relieved to not be constantly on the run from the madman who had been lurking in her best friend's head.

Sometimes, during their quest, she'd seen Voldemort in Harry's eyes and it had terrified her. She had witnessed the progressive march towards madness in her friend and she had feared that one morning she would wake and there simply wouldn't be enough of the boy who had saved a girl he barely knew from a troll to hold the monster back any longer.

Looking back Hermione truly understood just how strong Harry Potter had been.

It didn't change the fact that he left them, though. He and Neville both- and now her children would never know the halls of Hogwarts as their second home because magic was dying.

The ICW was in charge of the integration into the nonmagical world and would be using the last vestiges of magic in the ley lines under Hogwarts for a massive charm to make the backgrounds for all the families in the British Isles. The Purebloods had protested, trying to bury their heads in the sand, but the ICW had basically told them, 'cooperate or deal with the consequences yourselves when all the magical power in the Isles is gone'. That pretty much stopped the grumbles as most families hadn't existed in the nonmagical world since before the Statute of Secrecy and not having magic to smooth things over would make things incredibly complicated.

Since they couldn't preserve any of their history, whether through writing it or trying to type it on a computer from memory, they were at a loss at what to do. They had still held classes up until the June just past, but there hadn't been any new Purebloods in five years and there hadn't been any new, 'muggleborns' in nearly a decade. Well, anyone who had been under the age of eleven at the time of the beginning of the 'Death of Magic' had lost their magic, and even some older students who returned to the muggle world the following summer had lost their magic, rendering them unable to return, which had sparked the initial investigations.

It figures, she mused, as she made her was to the Headmistress' Office for one of her final meetings before Hogwarts closed for good, that you'd take that spark with you when you left.

Be happy, Harry.

Rose and Hugo Weasley were just ready for it to end.

Rose could vaguely remember the feeling of magic. She had been born with it, she knew, and she could almost remember the warm, joyous feeling that used to dance just under her skin. Rose dreamed of using a wand like all her older family members and going to Hogwarts and having adventures, like what Dad told them about when Mum wasn't listening.

But….

Just before she turned five she had woken up colder than normal. Rose had told her Mum that she was feeling poorly, and her Mum had told her it was probably a cold, gave her a potion and told her to rest. But the next day she was still feeling poorly, and her parents decided to seek out a Healer.

There had been a lot of other kids with colds there, she remembers thinking.

When she had been called the Healer had waved their wand, asked a few questions, and then asked her to go sit in the hall while they talked to her parents. Lollypop, (which Mum usually didn't let her have!), she had skipped out of the room obediently, unaware that her whole world was about to fall apart.

Rose had gotten better, though she felt different, and then Hugo had been born, but there was a tension in all of her older family members that she had never noticed before. People got snappy and short-tempered as things seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Uncle Bill and his wife, Uncle Charlie, Uncle Percy and his wife, Uncle George and his wife, and Aunt Ginny and her husband, all lost their jobs at almost the same time- like in the same month.

It made things worse when Grandpa Arthur tried to help 'cause was supposed to be the 'Muggle' expert, but he seemed to know less about them than Rose did! It took Grandma and Grandpa Granger, (who adored Rose and her baby brother, but didn't really like Mum or Dad, which was weird, but whatever), to help her Uncles and Aunties get the papers they needed to do their jobs in the 'Muggle' world, but even then it was hard for anyone to find work.

By the end of that year everyone was living at the Burrow, and that only made everything worse.

Rose had been sat down with all her cousins at Grandma Molly's house one weekend the following summer and the kids had been told what was happening, much to Grandma's distress.

Things were changing, and wasn't nonmagical school going to be a fun new adventure for them?

(Magic was dying the adults whispered when they thoughts the kids had gone to bed.)

They were going to try something different with this generation, homeschooling with Grandma Molly for magic, wouldn't that be fun?

(The Magical World- their world- was ending, their parents raged behind closed doors.)

The adults were doing all they could to fix it, they were told, but only those that had already started at Hogwarts would be going. Everyone else would be starting nonmagical school in the fall.

After that it seemed like the adults used their magic less and less, as if they were trying to get used to not having it, and when she asked why she couldn't use magic when she knew that she used to have it or why her toy broom wouldn't work anymore, everyone got either angry or sad, so she stopped asking. Slowly the kids learned that the more stressed the adults got, the worse their tempers, it was trying to stay out of the way all the time as the adults tried to keep them fed, clothed, and educated. More than one 'Weasley Explosion' occurred every week.

Teddy Lupin and Victorie Weasley would be the only of the younger Weasley Clan to attend Hogwarts, and Teddy would be the only one to graduate. Victorie would go with her parents to the United States where Uncle Bill got a job as an expert in Ancient Languages.

Dad was still working for the Ministry of Magic, but Mum had lost her job ages ago. Uncle Charlie had finally found work as a wilderness guide just this spring. The rest were still looking for work. It was made worse by the cost of living in the nonmagical world being so much higher than the magical one. Mum, when Rose was younger and still unused to things not being done by magic, had explained that nonmagical people had technology and appliances to do normal things like cook or clean, where Dad's family had used charms, magic, and magical items, for everything for generations. Technology, and the energy to use it, cost money every month unlike charms and the magic that powers them, she had said back then.

Rose heard her parents talking, (arguing), with Grandma and Grandpa Granger in the kitchen one night when she snuck down to get a drink of water, that Rose's parents wouldn't be able to afford schooling for her and Hugo without the money left to them by their friend, Harry. Rose had asked about the legendary Harry Potter, but Dad's face always went white with anger and Mum's eyes started tearing up, and so that topic became almost as taboo as magic in their household. The one time she had asked Grandma Molly the woman had sobbed and Dad had been so mad he had swatted her behind, until Mum came barreling in and dragged him off, leaving Hugo to comfort the terrified, distraught Rose.

Rose understood better now, having been in nonmagical school for a few years and living with Grandma and Grandpa Granger.

Rose had filched the paper from the trash the other day and read the ICW's report. The fact that everyone, save for Uncle Bill's family, were gathered in the Burrow's living room was a bad sign.

Rose cuddled Hugo as they waited on the couch with the rest of their cousins.

The adults all came into the room. Aunty Andy was here too.

Rose looked around the room.

Where was Teddy?

Rose's confused gaze landed on Aunt Andy who gave her a weak smile in return.

Something was wrong.

The adults spread around the front of the room, in front of the fireplace that used to be used to Floo up until two years ago. Grandpa Arthur cleared his throat, "As you all are aware there is an, ah, issue with magic, yes?"

Fred II scoffed, "You mean the fact that magic is dying, Gramps?"

"Young man!" Grandma Molly snapped angrily, only to be cut off by one of the other cousins.

"It's true!"

From there it descended into squabbling until Aunt Ginny's voice cut through, "Enough." She bellowed, "Let Dad speak!"

Grandpa Arthur gave his daughter a grateful nod, "As I was saying, there is an issue with magic, and by the end of the fall the charms that hold the Burrow together will begin to degrade faster than we can repair them."

The kids fell entirely silent. "But, Gramps, we all live here, 'cept Uncle Bill and Uncle Ron's families." One of them ventured.

Grandpa nodded seriously, "Yes. That is the issue. We cannot continue to live here; we had thought we had a solution but….."

"Where is Teddy?" Rose demanded, eerily reminiscent of an eleven-year-old version of her mother.

Aunt Andy sighed and most of the adults' lips thinned in irritation. "Teddy has chosen to take some tim-"

"He's a bloody tosser, after all we've done for him, just like his glory-seeking, selfish godfath-" Dad started, only to be cut off with a stinging slap courtesy of Aunt Andy.

"Ronald Weasley." Aunt Andy said in a deadly cold tone, her gaze resting on Grandma Molly's steadily reddening face, "I dare you to continue that line of thought. Teddy is not responsible for these hardships. Harry and Neville aren't responsible for these hardships. Silence. If Teddy chooses to walk away from us, he has that right; he owes us nothing, certainly not his inheritance. His inheritance is the only thing he has left of the godfather who we all failed after he'd saved our entire world." She pinned Dad and Mom with her deadly gaze, "Don't think I don't know that you abandoned them, Ronald. As for you, Hermione, no amount of research gave him the resolve to willingly walk to his own death. Harry did that, and if all you are going to do is blame a man who isn't here to defend himself then I, and my financial aid, are leaving this instant."

The silence was deafening.

The shame on the elder Weasley's faces was painful to see, but it was the honest grief on Mum's face that made Rose patter over and wrap her in a hug.

This had been the reality of the last five years of Rose Weasley's life.

She wondered if it would have been different if Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom hadn't disappeared.

Teddy Lupin glanced around the rundown motel that he was staying at in disinterest.

Nothing fucking mattered anymore.

He glanced over and pulled the notebook that held his godfather's precious letters into his lap. At this point he had read them so many times he had them memorized, but he still read them with an intense desperation, hoping to uncover one more thing about the man that he didn't know, get a clue as to where Harry had gone so Teddy could follow him.

Teddy loved his Gran, he really did, he just couldn't forgive her.

He had vague recollections of a soothing male voice, a sense of comfort, safety, and home. Before he started searching for them, he assumed them to be memories of his father, Remus Lupin, a man he had only ever seen in pictures, and he only had one picture with both his mother and father in it.

Teddy found, during his bare-and-share with his Gran after he received his inheritance that Harry had actually given it to him before the elder man had disappeared.

Then there were the fucking Weasleys.

They had been family to him growing up, been family to Harry. They'd also fucking abandoned his godfather when Harry needed them. Family didn't do that shit. Teddy felt the anger and the loathing trying to rise up and desperately pushed it down as his eyes pricked with tears. Teddy had spent years in their home, counted their kids as his little brothers and sisters even though he never felt like he fit in, like they were always judging him; because his clothes were nicer, that his Gran owned their house, and that he was able to attend Hogwarts.

Never mind that Teddy had lost everyone but his Gran, that Uncle Harry had made sure that Teddy took summer classes so he'd be ready to manage his estate, (even though Teddy thought that his Gran had arranged them until he'd received his inheritance), and that Teddy had to double time his schoolwork to be able to pass the requirements that Harry had set to access the full estate.

No, they'd tried to get him to help them transition, as if he fucking owed them shit.

Tears began to make their way down his cheeks, betraying the inner turmoil of the young man's thoughts.

Is this how you felt, Uncle Harry? Is this why you disappeared? Will this feeling of betrayal ever leave me? I know they weren't using me for money, and that they have their pride and asking for help hurt them, but it still fucking stings- the way they reacted. Mrs. Weasley had sometimes made subtle digs that I never understood until now- about mum, and how she got pregnant out of wedlock. About dad and his being a Werewolf, about Gran and the Blacks, even about you! Ron wasn't much better, and the other never said anything, but they never stopped the others either.

Teddy might be angry at Harry too, but Harry had written in his final letter that his magic was acting up, and he wasn't sure what would happen.

And…

Teddy's thoughts drifted to the shimmering crimson potion sat innocently in his travel pack and the letter that accompanied it.

Dear Teddy,

I don't know how old you will be when you read this, or even if you'll want anything to do with me. But I remember how I felt when I found out about Sirius being my godfather.

There is no one who can take the place of Remus Lupin, your father. He was a brilliant, kind, gentle soul who didn't deserve the life that was given him. (Though he did occasionally need a good kick in the pants to get over himself.) Your mother was a vivacious young woman who would have been your best friend and worst enemy, (I didn't know Tonks well, but she could inspire terror on the battlefield, and she knows every trick in the book, because she's tripped over them all), and I wish I could have known them better, at least Andy can tell you stories of Tonks.

What I mean to say, Teddy, is that I love you, even if I can't be there with you, and I hope that you're happy and safe, that you find love, (girl or boy, as long as they're consenting and you're happy, I don't care, little imp), and that you live a long, full life.

But, if something happens to me, I want you to have this. It's a Blood Adoption Potion, and I've added the needed components. It's still viable because of the containment method, (Goblins are master craftsman, the container will lose its enchantment when it has served its purpose), and you have no obligation to take it, but I was always going to offer you this option.

Like I said, I remember the feeling of not wanting to forget my parents, but I wanted Siri to be my Papa. Siri and I talked about it, but we never got the chance to make it official.

So, Teddy, what I mean is that- if you want- you can take the potion, and it won't erase Tonks or Remus or their rightful role in your life, but it will add me as your godparent, your Papa.

It's entirely your choice Teddy, and I will love you the same either way.

I just had the opportunity taken from me, and just in case I want to make sure the same doesn't happen to you.

All my love, little imp,

-Uncle Harry

The words rang in his head, as they had since the first time he'd read them. Gran had freaked out when he'd told her, because it might conflict with his Metamorph abilities that he'd inherited from his mother.

Teddy knew he was being unreasonable and dramatic, but he just felt so betrayed and furious.

Especially since he'd read the ICW report, and noted the way they had traced the crash of magic back to Harry and Neville Longbottom's vanishing act. He could hear the accusations from here.

Teddy sighed, slumping in exhaustion. I'm so tired. So fucking tired of half-truths while the world burns around me. They fed us just enough about the 'Death of Magic' situation to keep us from poking deeper until it was too late. I would have just gone to nonmagical school if I had known, but Hogwarts needed students to keep the Professors paid. Including Professor Weasley, our Transfiguration instructor until this past June, even though Transfigurations had stopped holding together at all outside of areas of high-magic concentration like Hogwarts. Not that they told us, the students, that, just raised the Age of Majority to eighteen, even though the Ministry no longer had the magical power to track under aged magic.

Fucking hypocrites!

Teddy would follow his godfather's example and set his shit straight. Then he'd wait and see what the New Year brought, as he had a sinking feeling that Gran wouldn't last long after magic left her for good, but he couldn't deal with her right now, not when she was trying to alleviate her own guilt by helping them.