A/N:

The formatting for this (looonnnngggg) chapter is a little different. Each moment during Andromeda's Saturday session with Adelaide is discussed, then flashed back to. I hope it's not too confusing/jarring!

Also, I know I said I wouldn't update until after my edits are done, but I needed the mental break from my real work, so I jumped back into this about 4 hours ago and... this is what happened. So here's 21!

Thanks for reading! And thanks to Chapter 20 reviewers: sassanech, somethingnew2016, PopularCats, kalilje, FrancineHibiscus, and Harry Hobbit (haven't 'seen' you in forever! /excitedly waves hello/). I appreciate all of your comments; they keep me going! :)

-AL

PS: please forgive typos.

PART TWO:

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

END OF WEEK EIGHT

"I'm proud of you for not drinking," said Healer Smelthwick, both hands on her mug of tea while the quill and parchment took notes independently. They were seated in the kitchen for a change. Only the two of them, as Kingsley was asleep and Teddy away with his godfather for the long weekend.

"You shouldn't be proud of me," said Andromeda. "I'm a worse person sober than I am half-inebriated. When I drink, I do the world a favor. If I drink enough to take myself out of it-"

"I don't think you're a horrible person," interrupted the Healer gently. She reached out to take Andromeda's hand. "You had a difficult week, one that could set anyone back, and though you came close to falling off the trolley, you maintained your sobriety. That's something to be proud of."

"I told a pregnant woman she ought to throw herself off the Hogwarts astronomy tower, then I slapped the face of a five-year-old, I still can't force myself to fuck my lover, and I made my only sister cry."

"I didn't say it was a wonderful week, Andromeda." Adelaide sat back against her chair, placing her hand back on the steaming mug of tea. "I said I'm proud of you for not drinking. Especially considering Kingsley's current... state."

"I brought him up some coffee and a scone about an hour ago, along with a headache potion Severus supplied." She nibbled the edge of the scone. She hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before. Neither had he, unless he was awake and doing so now.

"How is he?"

"Despondent." Andromeda placed her scone on the plate between them, as she had no appetite. "He wants to die too. We could go to our graves together like Romeo and Juliet. You know, the play? A little potion, a quick prick of the knife, an eloquent preceding speech or two... that would be rather romantic, wouldn't it?"

"I am not familiar with Romeo and Juliet, but no, I do not think suicide is at all romantic, and it bothers me when you speak that way." Healer Smelthwick's expression hardened. She put down her mug. She was all business now. "Should I have you returned to the facility? Should the Minister be checked in as well? Should I speak to someone about the dangers of returning Teddy to your care? How worried should I be?"

"Fear not, dear Healer, I have no intentions of offing myself at this time." Andromeda said this with an eye roll, as if stating she was not planning to redecorate the sitting room and thinking the mere suggestion silly.

"Then please, I implore you, do not say things like that. As a Mental Health Healer, I am trained to consider-"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" Andromeda retrieved the scone, tore it in half, and dropped both pieces on the table in front of her. "As you said, it wasn't a wonderful week. And I can't imagine how we're going to... to fix things."

"Let's start with the least of your problems. You made your sister cry."

"And now she's not speaking to me."

"But you were not being cruel; you were being realistic. She didn't want to hear what you had to say, but she needed to. You did not hurt her unnecessarily. If you go to her and explain your intentions, make it clear that you said what you did because you love her, surely she'll forgive you. Especially once she's had time to internalize and reflect."

Andromeda sighed.

"Yeah," she said as she Vanished the mangled scone from atop her clean table. "Maybe."

FIVE DAYS PRIOR

"Nana? I sleep with you?"

Teddy had already been returned to his own bed three times, and both Andromeda and Kingsley were running short on patience. He was trying to read through some important documents for a huge meeting the next morning and she was trying to finish the morning's crossword, which had fallen by the wayside when the child needed a lot of help with his math workbook.

"Teddy! Why are you up again?" Andromeda glanced at the clock on her bedside table. "It's nearly ten."

"Five plus five is ten." He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "Kingsley, I sleep with you?"

"Sorry," said Kingsley, not sounding sorry. "We already told you, not tonight."

"Whhyyy?" He stomped his feet. He looked particularly adorable tonight, in long green and blue striped pajamas with the feet sewn in. His natural hair was tussled from tossing and turning on his pillow, and when Kingsley said 'sorry,' his little nose started twitching like a bunny's. "Whyyy I not sleep with youuuu?"

"Because you're a big boy," answered Andromeda. "Back to bed." She got up (again) and lifted him, balancing him on her hip. "Say goodnight to Kingsley."

But Teddy wasn't ready to say goodnight.

"Please, I sleep with you?"

"Not tonight," said Kingsley. "Goodnight, Teddy."

Andromeda carried him back to his room, ignoring his whimpers of protest. She tucked him back into bed, kissed his forehead, and even consented to reading one more story, though she did so without the animated voices that made bedtime story time one of Teddy's favorite times. Instead, she tried to keep her voice even and soothing, hoping for the same soporific quality of Snape's - that man could read the children "Once upon a time, there lived a princess" and they'd both be asleep before hearing a single word about her wicked stepmother.

It seemed to work. By the time the Gruffalo showed up, Teddy's breathing was deep and regular and his eyes were closed. She tiptoed from the room, closing the door softly, and padded across to her own bedroom.

Kingsley was waiting.

"I cannot read another word of that rubbish," he said, indicating the pile now on the floor next to the bed. "It was put together by Percy Weasley, the most pleonastic, redundant person I've ever-"

"Isn't it redundant to say he's both pleonastic and redundant?" she teased. She closed her bedroom door, tapped it with her wand to lock it, and removed her dressing gown.

"You're wearing too much," he said, looking over his girlfriend in her warm, floor-length pink and white cotton nightgown. "You look like the grandmother in Teddy's story about the wolf who says the girl has big eyes."

"Little Red Riding Hood. And that's because I am a grandmother. Once one becomes a grandmother, there are certain requirements, certain rules to which one must abide, and wearing unattractive bedclothes is top of the list."

He stood and smiled cagily. He, too, was dressed for bed, but in a pair of blue silk pajama bottoms, no shirt. "I'd prefer you wear no bedclothes. 'The better to eat you with, my dear.'"

She laughed and swatted at his chest, but allowed herself to be swept into his arms.

Moments later, they were on the bed, whispering terms of endearment and snogging but mercifully still dressed, when Teddy reentered the room.

Kingsley was on top of her, she had one leg bent up and the other between his, and they were both relatively certain this would be the night their dry spell ended.

Neither heard him open the locked door.

Neither saw him standing beside the bed.

Neither knew he was there until he spoke.

"Beautiful," moaned Kingsley, kissing Andromeda's neck after brushing aside her hair. He had one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her thigh. She had one of hers on the small of his bare back, and the other snaking up his chest.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Baby, I love you too," he murmured into her hair, having given up calling her woman. "I love you."

"Baby?" asked Teddy. "What baby? Am I getting a brother?"

Not even during the war, not even while battling Voldemort himself, had Kingsley ever moved as quickly as he did upon hearing Teddy's little voice coming from the right side of Andromeda's bed. He flew off of her so fast he landed on the floor to the left side of the bed with a hard thump that would surely leave a bruise on his derriere.

"TEDDY!" exclaimed Andromeda. She sat up and turned to him, adjusting her nightgown to avoid showing too much thigh. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?"

"I want water." He placed his hand on her midsection. "Baby?"

"What?"

"Kingsley said he loved your baby." Teddy pushed a little harder. Sometimes he could feel Ginny's new baby kicking inside her tummy, and Harry said if they talked to him he'd know their voices once he got born. "I get a brother?"

"I'm not preg... you can't have a broth... I don't... you..." She pushed his hand away. "Augh! No, Teddy, no babies!"

"Oh." He looked disappointed. "Then I want water."

"GO. TO. BED."

"Nana? I want water." He said this as if she hadn't heard him request it twice already, as if she had no idea why he was out of bed.

Kingsley stood, pulling on his dressing down and tying it at the waist. "How did you get in here, young man? Your grandmother locked the door."

Teddy held up a pink crayon. "I tap-ted the knob and said, 'Alohomora.' Then it opened!"

"That's... very impressive."

Andromeda shot Kingsley a sharp look over her shoulder. "No, it's not. Don't encourage him."

"It is, though. Intentional magic at only five? He knew the proper spell, used a surrogate wand to-"

"Kingsley!" She turned her attention back to her grandson. "To your room this instant, Teddy. I will not put you to bed again. I have done so five times tonight already and it's not yet midnight."

"No. I want water. I want a brother. I want to sleep with you. I want-"

"Get out! Now! Go!"

She did not usually speak to him this harshly - she tried not to, at any rate - but she was done. Done. His eyes - impossibly dark brown right now, the mirror image of hers - filled with tears.

"I want water," he whispered.

"No."

"Can't he have some?" asked Kingsley. "If it'll get him back to bed?"

"It won't, though. Because after he drinks it, he'll be up again. To pee. And then he'll ask again to sleep with us. And we'll say no, and he'll want water. All night long. Drink, pee, sleep with you? I'm putting my foot down. I am saying no."

"Naaannnaaaa!"

"Out!" She pointed toward the door. "And leave the crayon."

After a moment's pause, during which his lower lip quivered and his nose twitched and his eyes narrowed furiously, Teddy threw the pink crayon across the room, turned dramatically on the heel of his footsie pajamas, and stalked from the room without saying goodnight.

Kingsley closed the door and used his wand to create a lock that couldn't be undone with a crayon tap and an alohomora to the knob - a hook/eye latch.

"Am I awful not to read him another story?" asked Andromeda, already feeling guilty.

"No." He crawled onto the bed, took her gently by the shoulders, and turned her so they were facing each other. "I am impressed by his spellwork, though. I'd bet ten galleons Hope can't do that."

Andromeda giggled. "Love, you always know just what to say to please a woman!" She guided him into a kiss and they fell back against the pillows, ready to pick up where they'd left off.

But they'd only gotten as far as her mouth on his member when it was the voice of someone else who interrupted.

"ANDROMEDA TONKS, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

"Narcissa?" Kingsley looked down upon Andromeda with confusion. She raised her eyebrows in question, flicked her tongue against his tip, and stood up from her place on the floor in front of him.

"I'd better see what she wants before she wakes Teddy."

She threw her dressing robe on quickly as she headed down the hall.

"ANDROMEDA!" Narcissa shrieked again.

"I'm coming!" hissed Andromeda, reaching the top of the stairs.

"I'm not," muttered Kingsley, heading down the hall in the other direction, toward the loo, also pulling on his robe. He had a feeling it would be awhile before they got back into bed.

When Andromeda reached the bottom of the stairs, she was all set to light into her sister for screaming loud enough to wake the dead in the middle of her sitting room at midnight, but the sight before her stopped her from being able to process all rational thought.

"What are you wearing?!"

Narcissa bristled, tossing her hair haughtily and jutting up her chin, as if she wasn't donning form-fitting lingerie, stilettos, too much makeup, and...

"Is that a dog collar?" Andromeda choked back a snort. Around her sister's neck was something leather and studded, with a little silver tag of metal hanging front and center.

"it's a choker," said Narcissa testily. "Jewelry. I did not have time to find my dressing gown... or remove it. It's... there's a spell to... I can't unclasp it right now!"

"And here you had me believing your sex life was so vanilla you needed to beg for another baby just to get him to get creative - oh, is that what this is? To get him in the mood you had to... what? Trade places with Duchess? That man really does love his little bitch, doesn't he? They say every dog has his day - or hers, perhaps - but I had no idea..."

Narcissa's face went a delicate shade of purple. "Andromeda! I am not here to discuss my wardrobe with you."

"Then why are you here, because it's the only thing I can currently fathom discussing."

"Moments ago, Severus and I were quite unceremoniously interrupted mid... mid... mid..."

"Mid-fetch? Or was he teaching you to roll over?"

Narcissa sapphire eyes flashes. She was in no mood to be teased, especially not by her sister.

"Meda, moments ago, Teddy Flooed directly into our bedroom!"

"Teddy?" This wiped the smirk off Andromeda's face. She glanced around the sitting room. "Where is he?"

Narcissa gestured toward the couch. A lump of blanket stirred; clearly, the child was hiding under it.

"Come out from there, young man," said Andromeda scoldingly. He did not comply.

"Thank Merlin we were only talking!" exclaimed Narcissa. "And Severus was dressed."

"As what? A dog warden?"

"I'm not laughing, Andromeda."

"But I... I really want to, Cissy."

"It's not funny! You let him Floo to us alone?"

"I didn't let him!"

"You told me get out!" came the muffled voice of Teddy from under the blanket. "So I getted out."

"I didn't mean out of the house!" Andromeda moved to the couch, leaning over the back, and tried to divest her grandson of the blanket but he held on tight. "You are in big trouble."

"What are you wearing?"

Kingsley, donning his dressing gown, had joined them in the sitting room.

"OH!" Narcissa tried to cover her upper body with one hand and the collar with the other, but failed miserably. "I didn't know you were... were here... Minister. I... oh!" She yanked the blanket off of Teddy, nearly pulling him right off the couch, and wrapped it around her body. "Andromeda, you need to do something about this out of control child."

"I'm living with you!" said Teddy. "I'm mad at Nana."

"Teddy, to your room, please. I'll be up to speak with you shortly."

"I'm going home!" Narcissa sounded near-hysteria. "We shall discuss this tomorrow!"

"Wait, Cissy..." Andromeda glanced sideways at Kingsley. "Could you bring Teddy upstairs, please?"

"Of course. Come on, lad."

"NO!" shouted Teddy, but upon catching the eye of Kingsley, he slid off the couch and walked to him, taking his hand and allowing himself to be led away.

"Andromeda, I love you, but I cannot keep on like this. Whenever you can't handle him, or can't handle life, you send him to us, and now he's coming over on his own. Tonight was important to me. We... Hope is with Draco and Hermione, Duchess has been locked out of the bedroom, I took a very expensive potion meant to increase the odds of conception, I'm wearing this... this... this bloody collar..."

"I thought it was a choker. Jewelry."

"Meda, please!" Narcissa's voice wobbled as if on the verge of tears and Andromeda suddenly felt a pang of... well, not quite guilt, but she didn't feel good. "I need you to be a better parent to Teddy, or you need to give him to someone else. If you want me and Severus to raise him permanently-"

"What? No!" As much as she maintained she hadn't wanted to start over as a mother again, she'd come a long way from her time in the facility during which she thought he'd be better off with anyone else. "I'm not a bad bloody parent, Narcissa. He only went to you because I sent him to his room. Why are we making it a matter for the Wizengamot?"

"You're a terrible mother!" Narcissa clapped a hand over her mouth, but a moment later let it drop, and added softly, "I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

"And you're so fucking wonderful?"

"Hope can already spell several three-letter-"

"Fuck what she can spell. My daughter grew up to be an Auror. Your son grew up to be a Death Eater. Who's the better bloody mother? At least the only times my child went to prison, she was guarding it, not serving time!"

Narcissa backed up as if slapped. "You know nothing of what life was like under the thumb of the Dark Lord."

"I know that even if she had been pureblood, my daughter never would have taken the Dark Mark. I know that even when they tried to recruit her for her skills as a Metamorph, she insisted she'd rather die than serve You-Know-Who. You think you're a better mother than I am because my Teddy has temper tantrums and your Hope can spell 'owl'? You think that means anything, that that measures anything? It doesn't! My daughter was raised to be brave and good and to do the right thing. Your son was a sniveling coward who didn't falter in his devotion until he failed to murder the best headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen!"

"You stop talking about my son, Andromeda."

"You don't talk about Teddy, then."

"My son was a Death Eater because his father was." Without thinking on what she was doing, Narcissa ran her fingertips over teh scarred flesh of her left arm, where she'd burned off the remains of her own Dark Mark years ago. "And your daughter was a decent person because her father was."

"And now that you're with Severus, everything is wonderful? He bears that Mark too, doesn't he? You were both blood supremacists and it's only because your side lost the war that you're raising your daughter any different! You're a pureblood supremacist and always have been!"

"You're an addict and a prostitute!" Narcissa screamed. There was no way Kingsley and Teddy couldn't hear her from upstairs.

"You're both bloody hypocrites, you and Snape, pretending to be perfect parents and perfect people, lecturing me about-"

"I only ever did what I had to to protect my child!" Narcissa was shouting now, her hands thrown in the air, the blanket forgotten on the floor by her feet. "Meanwhile, your child - your children, both Nymphadora and Teddy - have only ever needed protection from you!"

"I don't know why you want to get pregnant again, Narcissa," Andromeda said, disdain dripping from her voice. "Didn't the Healers tell you last time another baby could kill you? Do you really love your daughter so little that you'd risk death in childbirth bearing another just to avoid telling Severus Snape you can't stop dreaming about having sex with your dead Death Eater husband?"

"I loved my husband..." started Narcissa as the floodgates opened. "I loved him, but..."

"But he was never reformed, was he? You loved him as he was, a murderer, like you, a Death Eater, like you, a pureblood supremacist monster, like you-"

"I am not a monster!" Narcissa was full on sobbing now. "And Lucius was not a monster! When I miscarried our baby, he held me and cried. Would a monster... would a monster...?"

"Get pregnant again, Cissy. Do whatever you wish. If you die in childbirth-"

"If I die in childbirth, I'll leave my children to be raise by their father with help from Draco and Hermione, and I'll use my final breath to dictate that you never, ever see any of my children again!"

"Great! Excellent! Brilliant! And I'll use my breath now - hopefully not my final one - to tell you not to worry, I won't be sending Teddy over to your home ever again, so you don't have to worry about raising him for me."

"If I don't raise him, who will? Certainly not you! What if I took that money back, Meda? What then? Going to move Teddy into the brothel with you, maybe let him time your clients and bang on the door when their sessions are up?"

"I'd rather spend the remainder of my days on earth fucking for money than spend one moment living the way you did for almost twenty years, hosting mindless soirees while my husband supported a blood-based genocide, you bubble-headed bigot!"

Narcissa wiped her tears on the backs of her hands, but they continued to fall. Her face was red and splotchy and her breathing was punctuated by little gasps. "Draco -gasp- has turned out well. He is a -gasp- good person. I am pr-proud of -gasp- him, and I intend to do even bet-better with -gasp- Hope. I am s-sorry -gasp- I wasn't better then, s-sorry I didn't -gasp- speak up, but I am n-not a b-bigot." Narcissa covered her face, overcome by sobs, turned, and fled to the fireplace. She was Flooing home before Andromeda, already regretting the row, even had time to call out her name.

That had been five days ago. Though Andromeda had reached out once per day, her sister hadn't spoken to her since.

SUNDAY'S SESSION

"In all fairness, she said some cruel things to you, too," said Adelaide. "The ugliness in that fight was not one-sided."

"I attacked her son and her dead husband. I was out of line."

"She called you a prostitute, an addict, and a terrible mother."

"I know," said Andromeda. She picked up the couch pillow to fiddle with the fringe. "But she was telling the truth."

"As were you. She does not wish to hear those things about Lucius Malfoy, but they weren't lies. He was, indeed, a supporter of You-Know-Who through most of both wars."

Andromeda shrugged. "I said what I did to hurt her."

"But didn't she do the same? This reminds me of our early conversations about Kingsley. You judge yourself harshly, but overlook the flaws and hurtful actions of others. You were nasty to each other, I won't sugarcoat it, but the blame is not yours alone."

"I suppose." Andromeda reached for her now-cold tea. She tapped the side of her mug with her wand, muttering a warming charm, before taking a sip. "Let's move on, shall we? And let's move... out of here." She stood, mug in hand, and led the way to the sitting room. She felt more comfortable in their usual places. Adelaide, without questioning, followed. Once they were settling and the quill and parchment were both hovering by her side, the Healer was ready to resume.

"Could we discuss sex? Since Kingsley isn't here, perhaps it will be easier than doing so together."

"Not much to discuss. I let him get me naked and then I get him all excited and then I think up reasons to end our encounters prematurely, or to engage in... another way, so to speak. He says he doesn't mind but I am a better Legilimens than he is an Occlumens. He minds."

"Tell me about one of your recent times together. What happened? What stopped you?"

"Well.."

THREE DAYS PRIOR

"Yes, yes, yes, Kingsley, yes, there, oh!" Andromeda bucked her hips, her hand on the back of Kingsley's head, as he brought her to the brink with his fingers and tongue. "Fuck, yes, yes... ohh... fuck, Minister, I love you!"

She loved calling him Minister in bed. She loved the reminder that she was fucking the Minister for Magic. The bloody Minister himself. He was the Minister for Magic, and he wanted her, and that realization never ceased to turn her on.

This evening's orgasm was a particularly pleasant one. Her eyes literally saw stars - actual stars! - as she cried out his name and title again, along with some nonsense sounds that didn't quite form words, as her body thrummed with pleasure.

He moved his body up over hers, resting his chest against her breasts, and kissed her deeply. When they parted, he begged, "Let me have you tonight, Andromeda. Baby, please, I need you."

"Yes," she said, and their lips met again, and she had every intention of following through. She stroked his semi-hardness until he was fully erect again, as he'd been before she used her mouth on him, and she guided him on top of her, and she parted her legs, and she felt him at her entrance...

And then, for no reason at all, she burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking down upon with her concern, but also with a touch of... impatience.

"I'm a dirty filthy prostitute who was unfaithful to you because I needed a fix, and then I did it again in the facility with that nurse, and don't deserve you, I'm a terrible mother and a worse grandmother, and you're so wonderful, you're too good for me, you've always been too good for me, I've never been anything worth caring about, and I..."

"Not this again!" He flopped onto his back and pressed his fingertips to his temples. "We were both unfaithful. It's behind us now. We've moved on."

"I cheated on one of my O.W.L.s, and..."

"You already confessed to me about the exam."

"And I had an abortion when Nymphadora was young..."

"I know about the abortion."

"And sometimes when I'm in the shower I hold the razor against my wrists and I think about how much better the world would be if I weren't a part of it, and I press down just a little, and-"

"What?" He sat up, suddenly interested. "What do you do?"

She covered her face with her hands and cried, and he sighed and held her, and... yet again... an entire evening passed during which they did not have sex.

SUNDAY

"You do that?" Healer Smelthwick grabbed Andromeda's wrist and turned it over to examine her skin. There were a couple of small nicks there, but they looked more like snags from Meow-Meow's sharp kitten claws than self-inflicted injuries.

"Don't worry," said Andromeda calmly. "I never press hard enough to draw blood. Those are from the stupid cat, just as they look to be."

"Mrrowww," growled Meow-Meow, as if in warning. He glared at them from his spot curled up in front of the fire.

"He's a menace," Andromeda whispered. "He claws me all to hell when I try to clip the dung from his fur. He can't seem to get it all in the litter box, it just hangs there until it drops off somewhere in my spotlessly clean house, just waiting to be stepped in."

"Have you been hurting yourself?" The Healer did not release Andromeda's hand. She ran her wand tip over the thin skin there, through which the veins were visible, doing a diagnostic test of some kind. She must have been satisfied with the results, because she returned her patient's hand to the pillow in her lap a moment later.

"I don't do it. I only think about it."

"What compels you to consider hurting yourself? What specifically...?"

"I think about when I was a girl. When the blood... when I thought pure blood was gold, or some rubbish. When I didn't realize we bled red the same as anyone else. We bleed the same and hurt the same and love the same and live the same and die the same. Why couldn't my parents see that? It became clear to me when I was nine. But they died still believing themselves superior, simply for having come from families with long lineages that intersected in too many places."

"So you're not thinking of suicide? I am worried, Andromeda. You mentioned it earlier, you brought it up twice now, and then you tell me you're considering hurting yourself...?"

"I'm not suicidal," said Andromeda, sighing. "I'm simply... sad."

TWO DAYS PRIOR

Teddy dumped out every single toy bin in the sitting room, kicked the contents across the floor, and lobbed his beloved paint set into the fireplace. He was in a rage, and there was no stopping him.

"I will speak with you when you're ready to use a calm, quiet voice," said Andromeda. She quickly extinguished the fire for safety purposes, Vanished the Floo powder up to her bedroom, and turned her back on him, refusing to give the negative attention he was clearly seeking.

He then unleashed all the four-letter inappropriate words he knew at top volume, knocked over the cat's water dish, and even smacked the backs of Andromeda's legs several times. Still, she refused to engage.

"I WANT GO WITH HARRY!"

She shook her head, but did not speak. He had already been told if he wanted to spend the weekend at a Quidditch training camp with Harry and Ron, all he had to do was clean up his bedroom. There were toys and books on the floor and biscuit crumbs on the little table and clothes spilling out of the hamper and crayon markings on the back of the door - which he swore he didn't do, even though "someone" had written TEDDY LUPIN in huge pink letters. Save for the crayon markings, it was starting to look like Kingsley's bedroom, honestly, and she not only couldn't stand it anymore, she couldn't keep cleaning it up only for him to destroy it a day later.

Now, of course, he was destroying literally everything he could reach, which meant he'd have a lot of cleaning to do if he wanted to go on the trip.

"I HATE YOU!" screamed Teddy. "I HATE YOU HATE YOU HATE YOU NANA YOU ARE NOT MY MUMMY!"

She inhaled slowly, deeply, and stared at the blank wall before her. Keep calm. Ignore. Let him finish his tirade, then deal with him once calm.

"I WANT GINNY TO BE MY MUMMY AND NOT YOU!"

Breathe in, breathe out. He doesn't mean it. He's only try to rile you up.

"YOU ARE A STUPID STUPID BAD MEAN BAD BAD NANA!"

It was when she heard glass breaking she finally turned around.

"What was... Teddy!"

He had somehow - accidental magic, perhaps? - gotten down from the mantle the only displayed picture she kept of Ted, and smashed the frame against the edge of the fireplace, sending glass flying.

"Evanesco!" she called, waving her wand, hoping she got it all before he could step on it and cut himself. He held up the photograph.

"Teddy, put that down please." Damaged photos developed magically so they'd move were incredibly difficult, if not impossible, to repair.

"I. Want. To. Go. With. Harry."

"Put the picture down on the table, please," she had one hand out with palm facing forward and her wand at the ready. She felt like a hostage negotiator in one of those Muggle movies Ted used to like. "Put the picture down, please."

"I. WANT. TO. GO." He spat each word out as if it were its own sentence. He was glaring at her, unblinking. His hair was Mercury red, and his eyes, which had been blue all day, were darkening. He looked a little... evil. It was unsettling.

"You need to clean your room before-"

RIP

Right in half, right down the center.

"No!" Andromeda rushed forward, snatching the two pieces from him. A Reparo wouldn't fix this, but she tried anyway. It was ruined. Irreparably. She sank to her knees, feeling as though her heart had torn with it. Though she and Ted had had their problems, and though she tried not to think about him much since his death, as it was too painful, she had loved him with all her heart, and she loved this picture, and now it was ruined. "Teddy, that was very, very wrong! That..." She blinked back tears. "That hurts Nana's feelings."

"Good!" shouted Teddy, inches from her face. "I'M MAD."

"You're not going with Harry," she said softly, still holding the torn sides of the photo together. "You're going to your room."

"NO, NANA, NO!" He cried and carried on, stomping his feet, slamming his lists fists against his thighs. "IS NOT FAIR!"

"To your room, now. You've behaved very badly today, and I am not happy."

"I HATE YOU."

"Go to your room."

Teddy screamed and punched her upper arm, then tried to wrestle half the photograph from her hand. In doing so, it tore again, this time right across Ted's face.

"You are in big trouble, Edward Remus Lupin." She dropped what was left of the photograph and grabbed him by the shoulders, standing him directly in front of her. "Your behavior is out of control and unacceptable, and I am very, very upset with you."

"I. DON'T. CARE." He moved his face close to hers. His eyes were mirrors of her own, mirrors of her older sister's, and his hair changed to be the same as hers too - wild and curly and black. The resemblance to young Bellatrix was uncanny. "I'M GOING WITH HARRY."

"You most certainly are not!"

Teddy's face twisted up with a viciouness she'd never seen upon it before, and never wanted to again. Right in her face, he shouted, "You're an addict and a prostitute!" Those were the exact same words Narcissa had screamed at her the other night, and between his mimicry of one sister's words and his unintended visual resemblance to her other sister, she had had quite enough.

She reached her hand back and slapped his face.

He backed away, stunned, as she released his arm. Now his expression was one of fear that instantly made her regret her action.

"I'm sorry, Teddy, but..."

The fireplace roared to life, and out stepped Harry Potter, at the absolute worst possible time.

"Nana hit me!" cried Teddy, throwing himself against his godfather's legs.

"What?" Harry pushed up his glasses and regarded Andromeda stonily. "You hit him?"

"Look at this room! He's been impossible all day. He said... he said something mean..." She trailed off, realizing how petty and wrong she sounded. The child was sobbing. Harry lifted him into a hug.

"Is his bag packed?"

"I... no! He can't go!" Andromeda felt trapped, caged. She could sense what Harry was thinking about her, how harshly he was judging her now. "He hasn't cleaned his bedroom, he..."

"I think it's better for everyone if I take him with me," said Harry. "I think we have a change of clothes and a pair of pajamas for him at Grimmauld Place. I can pick up whatever else we need."

"You don't understand!" Andromeda reached for Harry's hand, but he backed away. "Let me explain."

"Did you hit him?"

"Yes, but..."

"That's all the explanation I need." Harry hadn't looked upon her this sternly since the day he came to Malfoy Manor to arrest her, her sister, and Draco (and ended up leaving with Narcissa alone). But last time he hadn't also appeared completely disgusted. She bit her lower lip. If only he would listen.

"Teddy was having a tantrum, he was destroying the house..."

"Let's go, Teddy." Harry glared at her. "I'll not let my godson be abused."

"Please, let me tell you what happened!"

Harry shook his head. He stepped into the fireplace, the boy still in his arms. "You hit him. That's all I need to know." He threw down some Floo powder. "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."

And they were gone.

SUNDAY'S SESSION

"I do not condone slapping the child, but I understand why you were feeling hurt and frustrated, and I do think Harry ought to have let you explain."

"He was supposed to be back tonight, but Harry send a Patronus to tell me they'd be keeping him a few more days." Andromeda twirled the fringed edge of the pillow around her index finger. "He didn't ask permission, he just told me."

"He thinks he's doing what's right by the boy, but ultimately, you are his legal guardian and you decide where he goes and with whom and when he comes home," Adelaide reminded her.

"I shouldn't have hit him."

They talked about Teddy for several more minutes, but then Adelaide Smelthwick wanted to segue into the end of the week, the events that led to Kingsley's inebriation and subsequent unconsciousness, the reason he was currently curled up in her bed with a hangover.

"I'll look even worse in this story than I did in the last one," Andromeda warned her.

"Let's dive right in," replied Adelaide.

ONE DAY PRIOR

Andromeda spent the week applying for jobs - when she wasn't busy making Narcissa cry, disappointing Kingsley, or slapping Teddy. By Saturday she'd received four form rejections and two personalized ones. Oh-for-six.

How was it she'd attended Hogwarts for almost six full years and yet finished school completely unskilled? She scoured the classifieds - both magic and Muggle - seeking positions as a secretary, a stenographer, a records keeper, a receptionist...

Most Muggle jobs sought people with University degrees on their CVs. Most wizarding world jobs required the full seven years of magical education. She supposed she could put her own ad in the papers seeking work, but what was she supposed to write?

Widowed single parent, dropped out of wizard school on seventeenth birthday, seeking employment. Highly adept at cleaning charms, basic astronomy, and reciting facts relating to goblin rebellions. Fired from last job for stealing with the intention of using drugs. Recovering alcoholic, dates important magical man. Can write using quill or pencil, but can't type on a Muggle computer or conjure a corporeal Patronus.

Yes, she was a real catch as far as the working world was concerned.

So she gave up, made herself a cup of coffee, opened a tin of chocolate biscuits, and sat down at the table with her crossword puzzle. Oh, that's something she was good at. Add that to the add. Can compete a crossword puzzle in record time, especially while bored on the clock.

She was halfway through with her second puzzle when there came a knock on the door. Hoping it was Narcissa, come to make up, she rose to answer it.

It was not Narcissa.

"May I come in?" Hestia Jones, age thirty-four, curvy and pretty and less of a mess than she was, stood on her stoop.

"Why?" asked Andromeda.

"I need to speak with you. Kingsley has been avoiding me."

"Congratulations on your new Ministry appointment," Andromeda said flatly, moving aside to grant the witch entrance. "Your parents must be proud."

"Oh, do you remember them from Hogwarts?" asked Hestia, a little too innocently. "I believe my mother was Head Girl when you were in... fifth year? Bettina Goode."

"I was in third," Andromeda corrected, her eyes narrowing at the reminder of their age difference. She was only four years younger than the girl's mother - surely that meant Kingsley was too old for her, given he was only seven years Andromeda's junior, and ten years older than Hestia.

"Where should we sit? To talk?"

"In the kitchen." Andromeda saw no reason to get comfortable in front of the fireplace, on her couch, where she and Kingsley had their Sunday therapy sessions. She led the younger woman into the kitchen where she poured a cup of coffee without first asking if she wanted one. "Milk or sugar?"

"Both, please. One lump."

Andromeda prepared it by hand and set it in front of her. They sat across from each other, hands on their mugs... waiting.

"Well? What is it?" asked Andromeda after a silence.

"You know Kingsley and I were together for a long time. Years."

"Yes."

"And he stopped seeing me after he developed an... interest... in you."

"Yes."

"But over the summer, when we were away together... did he tell you...?"

"I know he fucked you four times in a hotel room after getting pissed off Muggle spirits."

"He'd only been drinking the first time!" Hestia snapped defensively. She paused, took several breaths, and started again. "Yes, that's true, the first time he had been drinking, as had I. Quite a lot. And it was unplanned. But the other times..."

"I don't need details," said Andromeda, though part of her wanted them.

"We continued to share a bed for the duration of the trip, though we weren't 'together' every night from there on. Only three more times." Hestia had the decency to look embarrassed about this, but that didn't make Andromeda loathe her any less.

"I said I don't need details."

"I thought he and I would marry." Hestia's voice wobbled and Andromeda fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had no desire to listen to the pathetic child cry over him. "We were very much in love for most of those years. But I wanted children. I want children."

"And he does not. I know."

"I had an abortion for him. Did you know that?" Hestia's eyes were glassy and full of genuine sorry. Andromeda knew she should feel badly for her, but ever-the-Slytherin, she assumed this was but a tactic of manipulation, and wondered what the girl's end game could be. "Did Kingsley tell you what he made me do?"

"He said he suggested it, not that he forced you."

"He can think he merely suggested it, but he made it clear... his view on the matter... by saying what he did..."

"You feel he forced you. I'm sorry." Her apology was wooden, her face expressionless. She would give nothing away to this witch. She owed her nothing, and was already granting the woman her time. Surely that was enough.

"It is the greatest regret of my life, and I won't do it again."

"Excuse me?" Andromeda set down her mug and leaned forward. What did she mean?

Hestia pulled a rolled parchment from her shoulder bag. She slid it across the table to Andromeda. "I had a fiance. Things between us were... not good. When I confessed to him about what happened with Kingsley, he left me. Now I'm alone."

"Yes?" With steady hands that belied the panic inside her, Andromeda unfurled the parchment.

"I don't mind if I have to do it alone, and I don't know... I don't know which of them I'm doing it without, if you catch my meaning, but I thought Kingsley ought to know, and since he's been avoiding me, I came to you. It was that or to the papers."

It was a diagnostic workup, courtesy of a St. Mungo's midwife. Nymphadora had presented Andromeda and Ted with one just like it when she shared with them her news, sitting right here at this table six years ago.

"Remus will come back," Nymphadora had insisted. "I won't have to do it alone."

But Andromeda and Ted weren't so sure he'd be back, and they weren't so sure they wanted him to come back, and so they assured their daughter they'd be there for her every step and she'd not have to do a moment of it alone. Not the pregnancy, not the birth, and not raising her child.

"Maybe, if it's his, he'll come around and we'll have a family and everything will be fine," said Hestia hopefully, looking far too much like Nymphadora in that moment for Andromeda's liking. "But if it's not, or if it is and he doesn't, it doesn't matter. It's mine and I'm keeping it." She sipped the coffee, set it down, and stood. "I'm sorry for you to find out this way."

"No, you're not." Andromeda felt stunned, sick. She couldn't stand, couldn't see this little bitch to the door.

"I won't lie, I still love him. I've always loved him. And if... if this brings us back together..."

"It won't."

"He'd be better off with me, with our child, than with-"

"If you call me a whore I swear I'll hex you into 2004, I don't care how 'with child' you are."

Hestia sniffled and tossed her wavy hair, pushed back her shoulders, and glared icily down at Andromeda, though it was clear she was still close to tears.

"Before you, he loved me. And for those four nights over the summer, he loved me again. If it's his - and I think it is - he'll come 'round. I'm better for him. Even you must be able to see that. The Prophet hasn't been kind to you, and because of you, they've stopped being kind to him. You're bad for his career, his parents don't like you, everyone knows you laid down for a former Death Eater while you were seeing him. Together he and I could have a family and a life and a future. With you he could have... a disease."

Andromeda felt a chill as ice flooded into her veins, stabbing her as it moved through her circulatory system, filling her with a cruelty she'd often seen in her home as a child but rarely exhibited then, as she wanted to be nice, to be loved, more than she wanted anything else. She found the will to stand, and she moved close to Hestia, who slinked back. Andromeda was taller, and she did indeed resemble Bellatrix, and she could tell the former Auror was intimidated.

"If you were smart," Andromeda said, surprising even herself with how much she sounded like her older sister. "You would drop this foolish notion of a future family with Kingsley. He doesn't want you, and he doesn't want your bastard baby."

"I can't live with myself if I have another abortion." Hestia's voice wasn't confident now. It was small, and meek, and weak. Andromeda felt a pang of something like sympathy, which she suppressed.

"Can't live with yourself?"

Hestia shook her head.

"In that case, you ought to do the world a favor, and the next time you're in Hogsmeade, toddle up to the Hogwarts astronomy tower... and throw yourself off."

"Excuse me?" whispered Hestia.

"Two birds, one stone. No baby, and you also won't have to live with yourself."

"You truly are an absolutely horrible person." Hestia hurried toward the door. "Keep the diagnostic. Show it to Kingsley. It's a copy of the original. I don't understand what he sees in you, I honestly don't. You haven't a single redeeming quality, you don't treat him well, and you're not even that attractive! Tonks was such a sweet, funny, lovely, caring woman. How is it possible she was raised by someone like you?"

"She wasn't," said Andromeda, opening the door and ushering Hestia back onto the stoop. "She was raised entirely by her father."

SLAM

SUNDAY'S SESSION

"She's right." Andromeda chuckled bitterly. "I have absolutely no redeeming qualities."

"That's not true." Adelaide crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands in her lap. "But were you unkind to her. While I would have swiftly ushered her out of my home too, were I in your shoes, suggesting she kill herself and the baby was - forgive my word choice - overkill."

"What she said, though. About me, and about Kingsley. It's not anything I haven't heard before, or even said myself before, but coming from her... from someone he loved before me, someone he might still have feelings for..."

"I have no feelings for her."

Andromeda jumped and Adelaide glanced up in surprise. Kingsley had just come down the stairs and entered the sitting room. He was wearing pajamas under an open dressing down. He looked like death warmed over.

"I have a headache," he said. "But I wanted to join you. Am I too late?"

"I told Andromeda early in this session we could extend the time, as I'm away next weekend."

"Her son is seeing Charlie Weasley," explained Andromeda. "She's going to Romania to meet him because her son wants to invite him for Christmas."

"That's nice," said Kingsley genuinely, before he collapsed onto the couch. Andromeda immediately guided him onto his back with his head in her lap, and began to massage his temples.

"How much did you drink?" asked Adelaide.

"All of it," he answered.

ONE DAY PRIOR

After Hestia left, Andromeda threw herself onto her bed and cried. Then she picked herself up, dragged herself into the shower, and cried some more. She purposely nicked her inner wrist with the razor, but when the tiny trickle of blood brought no satisfaction, she put it down and cried again.

He was - quite possibly - going to be a father. He was going to have what she could never give him. Sure, he said he didn't want it, but a lot of people said they didn't want children only to have them and be happy about it later. And she knew he felt guilty about having been the catalyst for Hestia's regrettable previous abortion. Surely he wouldn't even ask it of her again.

No, he would end up back with her. And he would watch her grow and change and fucking gestate for months and months, and he'd fall in love with the idea of a baby, with the idea of their baby, and then she would give birth and hell, by then it might not even matter whether it was his or not, they'd be so bloody happy together they'd get married and raise it together and live happily ever after.

And the one source of pride in her life, the only thing she'd ever had that made her feel better than what she was, would be gone, because the Minister for Magic wouldn't have use for her anymore.

She would be but a memory, a bad dream, a brief mistake in the timelines of that child's parents' relationship.

And while she didn't want any more children (and thought Narcissa was borderline barmy for trying to get pregnant at her age!) she couldn't help feeling jealous because even if she and Kingsley did want children, she couldn't do a damn thing about it. She'd had that stupid partial hysterectomy, which robbed of her the ability to reproduce and plunged her into early menopause.

His fucking ex-fucking-girlfriend was fucking pregnant, and Andromeda was nearly a decade into menopause.

In addition to hating herself for knowing she was about to lose him and hating herself for the fact that she couldn't give him what Hestia could, she hated herself because everything Hestia said about her was true... and everything she'd said to Hestia was cruel. Unnecessarily cruel, just as the things she'd said to Narcissa had been unnecessarily cruel, and the way she'd treated Teddy after he ripped the picture was unnecessarily cruel.

Perhaps, as a person, she was simply unnecessarily cruel.

She should be the one throwing herself off that astronomy tower, as she'd considered doing countless times as a student there. Not Hestia. Not young, kind, hardworking Hestia, with an education and a good job and a history of having served in the Order of the Phoenix while Andromeda deemed it too dangerous and didn't even want her daughter involved.

She was cruel, and she was a coward.

And she saw no reason to gone on this way, or in any way.

So she got out of the shower, dried, dressed, and went to the nearest shop that would suit her needs - Hadley's Off Licence. She purchased the largest bottle of firewhisky they sold and apparated back home.

She poured herself a tumbler full and sat at the kitchen table with her abandoned crossword and the two dirty coffee cups and the mug of chocolate biscuits and the bottle and the glass. She sat there for over two hours, during which time the sun set, but she did not bother turning on any lights in the room. When Kingsley arrived, late for dinner (as she'd known he would be; he'd had a meeting with the Muggle Prime Minister) this was how he found her, sitting in the dark, the firewhisky bottle on the table to her left, the glass tumbler full of whisky in her right.

"What is this?" he asked. He sat across from her, concern and disappointment etched across his face. She took the rolled up parchment off her lap and slid it across the table to him.

"Hestia Jones dropped by today. She left this for me to share with you."

He opened it. He read.

He rolled it back up. He reached for the glass.

He downed the firewhisky in three large gulps. The cinnamon liquid surely burned going down.

He put one arm on the table and rested his forehead atop it.

And he started to cry.

SUNDAY'S SESSION

"I finished off the bottle, but Andromeda - she sat there for hours before I arrived, and she didn't have a single sip." He was on his back still, eyes closed, as she massaged his head. His entire body hurt like he'd been run over by the Knight Bus. He'd never been much of a drinker, and since she'd been home, he had mostly been abstaining too. He certainly hadn't had too much since that one night with Hestia - that one horrible night.

"Do you intend to discuss this with Hestia," asked Healer Smelthwick, concerned for Kingsley's physical and mental wellbeing. She'd never seen him like this.

"I won't be cruel," he started. Andromeda interjected.

"Unlike how I was."

"But I was up front with her from the very start of our relationship that I have no desire to have children."

"You'll learn to love it, if it's yours," said Andromeda quietly as she stroked his head. "You love Teddy, don't you?"

"Very much. And I'm sure you're right. But I did not want to be a father. I have always been adamant I did not want to be a father. I do not want to be a father."

"Why?"

Adelaide vocalized the question Andromeda had always wanted to ask him, but never had. When he did not respond, the Healer inquired again.

"Why not, Minister?"

"It's a long story," he answered. "And I don't have the energy to tell it today."