Food hadn't been on Andromeda's mind the last few days, so she wasn't surprised when all she found in the fridge were some eggs and various veggies that appeared too far gone to be edible. She huffed and turned around to Hermione with a can of beans in her hand. 'I hope you like beans on toast.'

Hermione chuckled, 'Love them, actually. They remind me of my Muggle parents.' The melancholy in her voice didn't escape Andromeda, and she wondered what the story there was. Hermione turned her attention to the toast, and Andromeda lost the courage to ask before she could follow up.

Andromeda was about to pour the beans into a pot when she sensed Hermione's gaze on her. She turned slightly towards her and raised an eyebrow. 'What is it?'

Hermione hesitated before she spoke. 'Nothing, really, you just keep surprising me.' Hermione fidgeted with the bread's plastic wrapper, twisting and untwisting it until it ripped in half. She quickly put it on the counter and clasped her hands.

It was endearing to Andromeda to see her so nervous. She turned all the way around to face her.

'I understand. Not many people know the real me,' she said slowly. 'My maiden name has always raised certain expectations. Although I distanced myself from it ages ago, it still resonates.'

There was a bit of tension hanging in the air between them. Somewhat ashamed, Hermione looked down to the floor until Andromeda brushed her fingertips against her arm and spoke again.

'Ted taught me how to cook. We often had beans on toast when we were young, and it quickly became Nymphadora's favourite dish. Cooking them with magic seems wrong. It does something to the taste.'

Hermione's eyes lit up. 'I know what you mean. I never loved the food at Hogwarts. Something always seemed off, but I couldn't put my finger on it.' She paused for a second, then added in a small voice: 'I miss my mum's food.' Unable to school her features, Hermione let the emotions wash over her face.

'Hermione,' Andromeda gasped. She was by her side in two strides and carefully gathered her in her arms.

The hug was so unexpected it took Hermione a second to relax. At the same time, Andromeda drew soothing circles on her back and hummed against her cheek.

Being hugged by Andromeda felt strangely familiar, and she leaned into her embrace until she had gathered herself somewhat. Andromeda took a step back but still held her by her bicep and looked at her worriedly.

Hermione drew in a shuddering breath. 'I obliviated them and sent them to Australia before the war.'

'I'm so sorry, Hermione,' Andromeda said with genuine concern in her voice.

Tears still blurred her vision, but Hermione waved her off. 'Someday, I'll get them back.' It was a promise she had made to herself and was intent on keeping. Almost five years, countless books and healers later, she was nowhere near healing them, but giving up wasn't an option.

Andromeda squeezed her arms. 'If anyone can do it, it's you.'

Sadness was still lingering on Hermione's features, but it was mixed with fierce determination. After a moment, Hermione balled her hands into fists and nodded.

Andromeda brushed her thumbs over her arms before turning back to their food.

After stirring the beans for a few minutes, she added a bit of yellow mustard. She held the wooden spoon out to Hermione to taste them and protectively held a hand under it so that nothing could spill on the floor and her clothes.

'Delicious,' the young witch said and licked her lips

Andromeda also took a bite. The moment the taste unfolded fully on her tongue, she froze. The smell and taste reminded her so overwhelmingly of Nymphadora that it pushed the air out of her lungs. With both hands, she clung to the counter, desperately trying to compose herself. It was moments like these she dreaded most because they always caught her off guard. It happened more often now than it used to and frustrated her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Hermione saw her tense up. Wordlessly, she pried the spoon from her tight grip and removed the pan from the stove. The young woman vanished the beans. After a few flicks from her wand, their smell was gone too.

Andromeda could breathe again. Her knees felt wobbly, but she managed to walk to the nearest chair and sit down hard.

Hermione handed her a glass of water and kept her eyes trained on her. 'How about we eat some toast and jam instead?'

Andromeda nodded slowly, drinking a few sips of the cold water. Everything about the situation was refreshing. Hermione had handled the situation with so much warmth and care it made Andromeda's chest tighten. She gave her a tired look. 'Seems like we're both a bit out of it nowadays,' she said drily.

Hermione sat down opposite Andromeda and shoved a plate with two pieces of toast in front of her. 'Would you like to talk about it?' She bit into her toast and leaned back into the chair.

The tone in her voice surprised Andromeda. She wasn't used to such genuine concern, from an almost stranger, nonetheless. She contemplated the offer for a moment before shaking her head. 'No need to dwell on the past.'

They ate their toast in comfortable silence and occasional small talk. Their eyes locked from time to time. Andromeda couldn't stop her mouth from curling up when she saw a drop of jam falling from the toast onto the sleeve of Hermione's jumper. Hermione gathered the jam with the tip of her finger and brought it to her mouth to lick it. A blush crept onto her cheeks when she caught Andromeda's gaze. With a muttered cleaning spell, Andromeda got rid of the red stain of Hermione's pale blue sweater.

Hermione smiled warmly. 'Thank you,' she whispered.

Moments later, they finished the meal, and Andromeda got up from the table with her wand between her fingers. 'The best thing about cooking the Muggle way is cleaning the dishes with magic,' she said, to which Hermione could only nod.

Swiftly, she washed the dishes and neatly placed them in the cabinets with a few flicks of her wand. Then she opened the small cabinet just above the stove, took out two wine glasses and placed them on the counter.

'Do you like wine?'

Before Hermione could answer, she bent down and pulled a bottle of red wine from the cooler. She eyed it for a moment. Picking out wine was always Ted's job, and to this day, Andromeda doesn't know what wine she liked. Most of the time, she went by the label. If it was well-designed, could the wine taste bad? With the bottle and the two glasses in her hand, she turned to Hermione.

Hermione raised her eyebrow and smirked. 'I don't like wine that much. But the label looks good, and you already went through all that trouble.'

Andromeda rolled her eyes dramatically and smiled. She poured Hermione half a glass. Hers, she filled a bit higher up. It had been an exhausting day, after all.

She gently nudged Hermione in the ribs with her elbow and gestured towards the living room. 'Come on. It's more comfortable over there.'

She ushered Hermione towards the living room and then sat down on the couch. Hermione hesitated for a moment then, to Andromeda's liking, sat down next to her. They clinked glasses. After a few sips of wine, Andromeda moved to lean against the armrest and tucked her legs beneath her so that she could take a better look at Hermione. The young woman seemed tense, and some sadness lingered in her face.

She extended the same courtesy she had received earlier and asked: 'Do you want to talk about your parents?'

Hermione's whole body tensed up, and she quickly took a few sips of wine to calm her nerves. It didn't lessen the uneasiness. 'I often find myself reaching for the phone to ring my mum.' She stared at the red liquid in her glass. 'There's so much I wish I could ask her. I feel lost without her.' A stray tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped. She felt guilty for crying because, unlike Andromeda's loved ones, hers were still alive.

'A loss is a loss,' Andromeda said with certainty in her voice. 'You are allowed to grieve as much as I am. There is no room for guilt.' The older witch took a slow sip of her wine and put the glass down in front of her. Guilt was something Andromeda was as familiar with as grief, but she didn't want to elaborate.

Hermione gasped. She hadn't meant to speak out loud. Judging by the expression on Andromeda's face, the older witch didn't mind, so she continued. 'Sometimes I wonder if I should just let them live their lives. It's no good for them if I bring them back. It's entirely selfish.' She downed the last of her wine.

Andromeda wordlessly refilled Hermione's glass and contemplated for a moment. She kept her gaze on her glass when she spoke. 'Your mother could never be angry with you for having you back. Even if it means leaving her old life behind.' There was a tremor in her voice that Hermione didn't miss.

'I'm almost out of options,' Hermione's voice cracked. 'There are only a few books left I haven't tried, but I won't give up.' She took a breath. 'If only my job wasn't so demanding.'

Andromeda didn't remember what Hermione did for a living, only that she was working for someone in the Ministry. Nymphadora had told her many times about all the young witches and wizards that quickly lost their sparkle once they entered the political mill that was the Ministry. To this day, she is grateful it never happened to her child.

Andromeda took a few sips before she broke the silence. 'What is it again that you do?'

Hermione sighed. 'I'm the undersecretary of Camille Tatters. She's head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I admire her. She's brilliant and kind and shares so many of my beliefs. I love working for her, but lately, the politics have been driving me nuts. Have you heard about the purity bill?' She snorted.

Andromeda nodded. Of course, she knew about the blasted bill. It allowed families to arrange marriages. If it were not so tragic, she would have to laugh. More than two decades had passed since her arranged engagement to Corbin Yaxley, and nothing had changed. 'It's ridiculous. Please tell me it doesn't stand a chance?'

Hermione sighed. 'Councilman Nott managed to swing a few votes, and now the outcome isn't clear at all.' She emptied her glass in one big gulp and put it down hard on the table. To Andromeda's surprise, it didn't shatter.

Hermione's cheeks turned two shades pinker. 'The fight isn't over, of course, but the injustice I came across the last few months is frustrating. I don't know how long I can keep doing this. I know backing out is wrong, but it makes my blood boil.' She sighed deeply and buried her face in her hands.

Andromeda studied her. 'What would you rather do?'

'For just once in my life, I don't want to fight.'

Andromeda nodded. Fighting was something she was familiar with. She held out her arm towards Hermione and turned it around so the young witch could see the underside of her wrist. She tapped the skin twice with her wand, and the scars appeared. Hermione's eyes widened, and she gasped.

'Ever since Bellatrix carved this into my skin, my life has been a fight.'

Tentatively, Hermione rolled back her sleeve. When the fabric touched the raw flesh, she hissed and cursed under her breath. It was her own damn fault it was so bad today, as she had not taken the potion with lunch. Tears stung in her eyes.

Andromeda blanched. The scar was red and infected, and it looked worse than Harry had described it. Carefully, she took Hermione's hand into hers. 'I am so sorry she hurt you like this.' She brushed the stray tear off Hermione's face with her thumb.

Hermione's lips quivered when she looked at Andromeda. Gently, she caressed the protruding letters. 'When did she do this to you?'

-§-§-§-§-§-

1971

Bellatrix glared at Andromeda. 'You dare?' She yelled in a high-pitched voice.

'It's either leaving or killing myself.' Tears slid down Andromeda's face as she frantically packed her trunk.

Narcissa stood wordlessly in the corner, her pale cheeks even paler than usual.

Andromeda levitated her trunk and swiftly ran downstairs. In the vast entrance hall, her father grabbed her by her arm. He slapped her hard across the face. 'You are no longer a daughter of mine!'

Neither the slap nor the words hurt Andromeda. She already sensed the freedom that awaited her on the other side of the wooden door.

'Bellatrix!' Her father yelled. 'Deal with her!'

Bellatrix jogged down with a spring in her step, her wand already pointed at her sister. 'Crucio!'

Andromeda crashed down to her knees. The blood in her veins seemed to boil. She desperately gasped for air. The pain menacingly seeped deep into all of her limbs. She couldn't keep her eyes open and succumbed to the darkness.

When she came back around, Bellatrix was pinning her to the floor with her entire body weight. She felt a sharp pain on her arm, and when she looked, she saw her mother's small knife in her sister's hand.

When Bellatrix finished her handy work, she stood and stared down at her sister with a bright smile on her lips and clapped. 'Look at it! It's beautiful.'

Andromeda didn't look.

She weakly rose to her feet and left, not bothering to take her trunk with her. She swallowed the tears and apparated.

It wasn't until she was standing outside Ted's door that she looked at her arm: blood traitor.

-§-§-§-§-§-

'Why didn't it fade?' Hermione whispered.

Sad brown eyes gazed up at Andromeda, and the older witch could almost feel her pain.

'It's dark magic. Only the one who hurt us can heal us.' Hermione's face fell, and Andromeda's stomach churned.

'I researched the magic behind it during my healer training. May I?' She gestured towards Hermione's arm. The young witch nodded.

Andromeda carefully lifted Hermione's arm towards her face to take a good look at it. She cautiously touched the crimson coloured 'M' with her fingertip.

Hermione flinched. 'The healers couldn't help. Some potions take the edge off, but lately, I feel like it's getting worse.'

Andromeda cursed under her breath. The swelling was severe, and the curse was visible as it roamed through the inflamed tissue. She was sure the young woman was in constant pain. Careful not to hurt her further, she lowered her arm again and squeezed her wrist. 'Sadly, the healers are correct. There is no way to heal such a scar. There are some ways, however, to make it bearable. Do you trust me?'

When Hermione nodded, she excused herself and went into her bathroom. Inside, she wet her hands and put them against her neck and forehead to fight the nausea. While Andromeda despised her scars, witnessing the young woman suffer the same pain made it a thousand times worse. After a few calming breaths, she knelt to search her potion cabinet. It took her a few minutes until she found the small phial. Its label was barely readable anymore, and she hoped the potion was still as potent as it had been nearly twenty-five years ago.

She returned to the living room and put the phial on the table.

'I brewed this when no one could help me with my scars.' Andromeda held out her arm again and traced the letters. 'That's as far as it can help you. The letters will still be visible, but you won't be in pain anymore. You'll even be able to hide them.' She tapped the scar on her arm with the wand, and the letters disappeared. 'I'm not sure if it still works. I brewed it ages ago.' She sat back down beside Hermione and looked at the label. 'Ah, 1975, to be precise.'

She handed the phial to Hermione, who eyed it with a weary expression. It was blue and shiny. 'How does it work?'

'It breaks the curse down into particles, and the mixture of different herbs transports them away from the wound and dissolves them. It breaks down the curse well enough, but there is a nuance to Bellatrix's spellcasting, which I didn't manage to decipher. Thus, a faint scar will remain.' That she, despite countless hours of work, didn't manage to break the curse still nagged at her. Maybe if she had had access to that one book in the Black Hall library, it would have worked. She sighed and let go of that thought as there was no use dwelling on it.

'Brilliant,' Hermione whispered as she twisted the phial in her fingers. 'I want to try it.'

'I'm not going to lie. This potion hurts a lot, but I'm positive it can help you.'

'Let's do it then,' Hermione said.

Andromeda summoned a soft washcloth. 'Put this between your teeth.'

She uncorked the phial and let two drops of the silver liquid drip onto the wound. Hermione gasped, and Andromeda immediately reached for both her hands and held them tight. She gave her a reassuring smile.

'You can do this.'

With every passing second, Hermione's face hardened more. Tears formed in her eyes, and she whimpered. Andromeda squeezed her hands harder and put her forehead against Hermione's. 'It's almost over, love!'

Dark shadows rose from the wound before they burst into millions of tiny ashen particles. Slowly but surely, the aggressive red colour of the wound paled. The deep incisions closed, the swelling went down, and one letter after the other faded until only pink lines were left.

Andromeda sighed and leaned back against the soft couch cushions when Hermione's face relaxed.

Hermione looked down at her arm with a mesmerised expression on her face. Gently, she traced the pink letters. 'That is just, wow,' she whispered.

'I'm glad it worked even after so many years.'

'Do you still have the recipe?' Hermione asked with a lot of excitement in her voice.

Andromeda nodded and moved to the bookcase. She knelt to search through the bottom shelf. After a moment, she found the small leather booklet. She scanned through her handwritten notes and eventually handed it to Hermione.

Hermione scanned the recipe for a while before looking at her again. 'Andromeda, does something like that exist now?'

Andromeda pondered for a moment and tapped her finger against her chin. 'Not that I can recall.'

Hermione's face lit up. 'I think this could help many people. I'd love to study it.'

Andromeda smiled fondly. 'That's a brilliant thought, love!'

The older witch summoned another wine bottle from the kitchen, and they clinked glasses for the second time that evening. When their glasses were empty, Hermione got up from the couch.

Andromeda followed suit. The young witch hesitated for a moment before reaching out and hugging her tightly. Hermione's breath was warm against her ear when she whispered: 'Thank you, Andromeda, for everything.'

Andromeda reluctantly let her go, immediately missing the warmth of her body against hers.

Moments later, she was gone. For the first time in two years, Andromeda was alone.