It was long past midnight when Andromeda opened the door of the study she had shared with Ted for years. She hardly used the room anymore because she always became melancholic as soon as she entered it.

While he had always kept his table clean, numerous knick-knacks had accumulated on his shelf over the years. He was a lot like Arthur Weasley in that way. No surprise they were such good friends. From Muggle action figures to magical board games, you could find everything in his collection. She teased him about accumulating this junk and threatened to throw it all out if he ever dared to fill her shelf with it. Although she always found the items dreadful, she couldn't bring herself to put them away. A fine layer of dust had settled over the room. With a flick of her wand, she made it disappear.

Very prominent in the middle of the top shelf, he had placed their wedding picture. Bright faces grinned at her. She hardly recognised her young self, and she didn't know how to feel about it. Sighing, she took it in her hand and stared at Ted's young face. Surely he would forgive her for being on the verge of getting over him, wouldn't he? For what it was worth, she wouldn't hold it against him if he were in her place. The thought calmed her a bit, but it was not enough to free her from all doubts.

She rubbed her tired eyes and rested her head on the table for a moment.

A soft tap against her windowpane jolted her out of her musings.

She opened the window. 'Metis?'

Hermione's small grey owl immediately fluttered to her hand and placed the letter on the desk.

She eyed it curiously before she addressed the bird. 'I won't write an answer tonight, but you can stay if you like.' Metis cooed disapprovingly and disappeared out into the night. Andromeda laughed, closed the window and unfolded the letter.

Knowing them well, the words touched her deeply. Ariadne Laforet's work about love had helped her deal with the excruciating pain right after the war. It warmed her from the inside that the young witch knew and appreciated her work.

From the poem Hermione had chosen, Andromeda suspected that she had feelings for her that went further than friendship. A stirring thought.

She held the note close to her heart and swallowed hard before descending downstairs to search through her bookcase for her own copy. The slim book in her hands was old and nearly tattered. She stroked the cover once and then flipped through the pages to find a suitable answer for Hermione. After a few moments, she found the poem she was looking for. It contained almost no subtext regarding her feelings and she hoped it wouldn't hurt Hermione. After hesitating for a moment, she gave the message to her patronus. She watched the shimmering blue lioness saunter out of her wand and into the darkness.

With a heavy sigh, she sat down on her armchair. Her mind immediately drifted back to Hermione. Her warm touches had felt wonderful. Imagining that felt the same thrilled and scared her at the same time. The longer she thought about it, the more doubts arose in her, and eventually, it began to hurt. She didn't feel worthy of her love.

She leaned her head against the soft backrest and closed her eyes.

Hours later, she woke to a searing pain in her neck. Groaning, she heaved herself out of the armchair and stretched. A look at the clock confirmed her fear. She was running late. Very late. Her mother-in-law would not be pleased.

She rushed to the bathroom. When she spotted her reflection, she knew there was no hope for her hair. Quickly, she tied her curls up in a messy knot at the nape of her neck and washed her face. While drying her cheeks, she gazed at her reflection and laughed. 'Salazar, you look ridiculous!'

Minutes later, she was standing outside, ready to apparate. Despite the risk of revealing herself and thus breaking the Statute of Secrecy, she decided to apparate directly to her in-laws' door to win a few precious minutes. She prayed that nothing would go wrong this time.

Fortunately, she appeared at their doorstep, but unfortunately, she was standing right on the edge of a step. She quickly grasped the railing and heaved herself up towards the front door. Slightly out of breath, she rang the bell.

She had to ring three more times before her mother-in-law opened.

'I'm sorry, dearest, I didn't hear you over the radio,' Helen Tonks said.

Andromeda could hear an old Beatles song blaring inside. Helen stepped closer and drew her into a crushing quick hug before looking at her with a stern expression on her face.

'What's the matter? You're usually never late, and what do you look like anyway? Yesterday morning you looked so lovely.' She began to tug at Andromeda's clothes and tried to fix her hair.

Andromeda sighed and playfully pushed her hands off. 'There's no need for that, you know.'

Helen laughed and pulled her into the kitchen by her hand. 'Sit, have tea with me.'

Andromeda grabbed a seat and looked around the homey kitchen. The table was a mess. As usual, the pale blue tablecloth covering it was barely visible. Needles, string, a haphazardly repaired shirt, and various other knick-knacks covered almost the whole surface. Andromeda shoved some of the clutter away to make some room to place her hands.

'Richard's reading to Teddy. We have a few minutes to chat.' She shot her a meaningful glance and placed a cup of tea in front of her.

Andromeda took a sip from the steaming beverage. It was chamomille, sweetened with honey. It was the same tea Helen had served her when she had moved in with them in the middle of the night. The tea she used to bring her to calm her down.

'What's on your mind? You seem sad.' She met Andromeda's gaze.

Andromeda loved her mother-in-law dearly, but her straightforwardness always put her on edge. Judging by the look on her face, the conversation wasn't going to be an easy one. Andromeda already felt vulnerable beneath Helen's gaze, and it triggered her sense of flight. She regretted not having cast a glamour on her face.

Andromeda chuckled drily. 'When in the last two years haven't I looked sad?'

Andromeda wasn't mad about it as it had become her new reality. Keeping her pain at bay had been exhausting over the years, but she was used to it by now. Besides, it was bearable now, nowhere near as sharp as it had been two springs ago.

Helen reached for her hand. 'I understand sadness, but you seem to be worse for wear today than a few weeks ago.'

Andromeda carefully calculated her next step while she tried to school her features. If she didn't give her enough, Helen would keep on nagging, but she didn't want to tell her about the inner turmoil as it felt too raw to share.

She waved her off. 'I'm fine. I just fell asleep on my armchair last night because I had a lot going on in my mind.' With a groan, she stretched her back and massaged the tense string of muscles in her neck.

'Should I worry?' Helen's voice was a little higher than usual, and her face held quite an amount of alert.

Helen eyed her critically. For Andromeda, it felt as if she was staring straight into her soul. The glamour would probably have been useless. Andromeda was sure that if Helen had been born a witch, she would have become a powerful legilimens. She was overly attentive and did not miss the tiniest details. A quality that had often been Andromeda's undoing in the past. She became a little clammy. She couldn't tell Helen about Hermione, not before she hard sorted through the conflicting emotions she felt.

Helen intensified the grip on her hand. 'I told you many times, but I'll do it once more. You can't deal with your grief alone. It's healthy and necessary to share your feelings.'

Andromeda squeezed her hand. 'Let it go, mum, please. This is not the time,' she deflected. She didn't want to hide anything from her, but at the same time, she didn't want to hurt her. Helen was more of a mother to her than Druella ever was, but she also was Ted's mother.

Helen grimaced. 'It's important so you can heal.'

Heal. Andromeda let the word roll off her tongue and closed her eyes for a moment. Her mother-in-law always knew how to push her buttons and had yet again succeeded.

Andromeda swallowed hard and opened her eyes again. 'Do you really think I can heal?'

She didn't miss that Helen's face paled as she processed her words. Helen retreated her hand and wrapped both of her arms around her waist. 'You have to. I can't lose another child.'

'Mum,' Andromeda chocked out when she saw tears on Helen's face. Being consumed by her own grief and distracted by Helen's genuine concern, she often forgot that the older woman was grieving the same losses.

Her stomach twisted painfully. She leaned across the table and laced her hand around Helen's wrist.

'Please stop worrying, mum. I promise you I'll be fine. I already found some light in my darkness.' She couldn't stop herself from smiling.

The older woman tried but failed to smile and her face filled with sadness. Seemingly lost in her own thoughts, she opened her mouth but didn't speak and then drank a few sips of her tea.

Andromeda did the same as she didn't dare to say another word.

After a while, Helen lifted her gaze and met her eyes. 'You've met someone.'

Andromeda pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. She knew how Helen felt because she still feared that she was somehow betrayed Ted's memory. Andromeda put her elbows on the table, interlaced her fingers, pressed her forehead against her hands and sighed. He was gone, she reminded herself and pushed the thought of him into the back of her mind.

Helen stayed silent, which was a lot more painful than any tirade that she had ever directed at her.

'Mum,' she tried but was interrupted by Richard, who had Teddy in tow.

The little metamorphmagus ran towards Andromeda and lifted his hands. 'Up!' he demanded, and she heaved him onto her legs.

'Hello, my heart,' she whispered in his ear. Gently, she kissed his hair as he began to play with her bracelet while he babbled about unicorns.

Her father-in-law anxiously looked from Helen to Andromeda and back.

Helen looked at her for a while, then addressed her husband. 'She's met someone.'

The coldness in Helen's voice felt like daggers to Andromeda's heart, but how could she blame her when she didn't know how to deal with this herself.

Richard managed a small smile but stayed silent. He sat down on the chair closest to Helen and put his arm around her shoulders. Her whole body shook, and Andromeda had a hard time holding back her own tears.

There was nothing she could say to make her feel better.

After a moment, Helen got up and wiped her eyes. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered, her voice thick with tears.

On her way to the corridor, she stroked Andromeda's arm. Before Andromeda could meet her hand, she left the room. Feeling sad, Andromeda dropped her hand back onto Teddy's lap.

Richard squeezed her shoulder firmly as he got up. 'We'll wrap our heads around this.'

Andromeda swallowed hard. 'Thank you, dad,' she whispered.

She got up, and without another word, she left their house.

Once outside, she drew a deep breath and pressed Teddy a bit closer to her chest. The conversation had drained her, and she had to clear her mind. The toddler wriggled in her grasp. 'I want down,' he declared. She put him at her feet and reached for his hand to help him down the stairs. At a slow pace, they walked towards the small playground around the corner. It was the playground Nymphadora had loved for years, and Teddy enjoyed it just as much.

Teddy squealed when he spotted the ducks in the near pond. He dragged at her hand, and she let him guide her. 'Yes, let's go see the ducks.'

When they were close by, she let go of his hand so he could approach them on his own. With open arms, he ran towards the birds. Naturally, they all fluttered and ran away. He fell onto his bum at another attempt to grab one, but it didn't bother him.

Andromeda smiled and lay down onto the soft, warm grass to let the sun soak into her skin. To keep Teddy away from the water and close to her, she warded him in. She watched him for a while.

'Ducky,' he squealed and then quickly started to play with the unicorn he still had in his grip.

Andromeda laughed. He was the brightest light in her life. With horror, she realised that she was making her happiness dependent on him when it should be the other way round. The thought stung her heart. She had to change that. She couldn't let him carry this burden. Helen's words echoed in her mind. In her childhood, she had always had to suppress her feelings. A habit she had never been able to get rid of, even as an adult, and it frustrated her to this very day.

She was about to dive into the depths of her feelings when Teddy whined. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up straight. The toddler waddled back towards her and nestled into her arms. Softly, she kissed his currently brown hair and inhaled his scent.

'I'm hungry,' he said in a small voice. Andromeda nodded and apparated them home.

Metis was impatiently waiting for her on a windowsill with a letter in her beak when they arrived. Andromeda sat Teddy down in the hallway and unfolded the note with a smile on her lips.

Can I see you tonight?

Andromeda's heart skipped a beat. With Ted's pen, she scribbled her answer beneath the question before giving the parchment back to Metis. The owl looked at her expectantly.

'You're a greedy bird!' She fed her some treats, nonetheless.

The moment the owl was gone, an uneasy feeling spread in her gut.