So... recently a reviewer asked, What's the point of having Dramione in a story that's going to be epilogue-compliant?

Good question. To be honest, there wasn't meant to be much of a Dramione plot in this story. It just crept up on me. I thought it fit. Because... the war would have changed both of them, but ultimately, a relationship would be too difficult.

Chapter 48

25th June, 1999

Black as Blood

It was a clear summer day of the sort that made you wonder how the weather could be so uplifting when everything else was so gloomy. They were at Malfoy Manor, in the gardens, sitting on the edge of a fountain; Narcissa had invited her. Lucius, she had been informed, was not available. It was certainly better that way. Draco would be coming home from school in a few days.

"So how was school for Draco?" she asked, trying to make small talk.

But it wasn't small talk for Narcissa, who genuinely cared about her son. Her expression darkened.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I have no idea. He hardly writes at all, and he refused to come home over the holidays – even for Christmas. I know he blames us for what happened. And Azkaban was so difficult on him, Andromeda. I don't know what matter of being I'll be seeing at Platform 9 and ¾ when he finally arrives. You have no idea, Andy, what it does to a mother to see her son tortured – because it is torture – by the Dementors until you hardly recognise him anymore. I haven't seen him since August and I don't know how he's been holding up. I don't know if... if..." Her voice broke. "I'm scared, Andy. I don't know what I would do if he'd gone... if he went... if he turned out like Bella."

"He's – like that?" Andromeda said, feeling a flickering fear rise in her.

"No," Narcissa said, straightening up, a glint of anger in her eye, "no, of course not. But these past years have been hard on him. He's had to do things that no one should ever do, to see things that no one should ever see. He's still young, Andromeda. He's impressionable. And the Dementors..." She trailed off. "You don't know what it's like," she said again, more forcefully.

"I know," Andromeda said slowly, "what it's like to lose your entire family to Death Eaters."

Narcissa's head shot up. "Oh, Andromeda, I didn't mean it like that. You know I don't think... you know your own... Andy, I deserved what I got. I deserved worse than what I got. I'm not complaining for myself. I'm worried about my son."

"I would like," Andromeda said, "to still have a child to worry about."

She looked down at Teddy, sitting in her lap. He was tugging on her long dark hair, amused; it bemused her because he had the exact same colour hair. Hair that hadn't changed since the day he realised he would never see his mother again. Still he found her own hair amusing, a plaything to pull on when he was bored. He liked Narcissa's even better. That she could understand; sleek, silky blond was more fascinating than brown.

"Mum," he said, catching his gaze on her.

He looked up at her with dark, dark eyes, still Bella's eyes. And he giggled.

"It's not 'Mum,'" she said, sighing. "It's Andy. Hush, darling," she added, when Teddy whimpered something.

Teddy was an otherwise bright child, but getting him to understand that she wasn't his mother was like trying to fall uphill. She couldn't blame him. What kid didn't want a mother? But she had started begrudging him for it, because every time he said it, her heart broke a little more as she remembered Nymphadora's voice, her smile, her face.

Did she worry about Teddy? Of course she did. But it wasn't the same. This was her daughter's son, and she loved him; but he wasn't her child. Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of that. She was reminded of her dead daughter. Her dead son-in-law, too, whom she had never appreciated enough when he was living. He had been right for her daughter, she knew that now. But she had been so harsh with him...

She looked up at Narcissa again; her sister's eyes were still wide with fear.

"Andromeda, I am so sorry for what –"

"I know what it's like to be a mother," Andromeda interrupted her, "My daughter grew up happy, with parents who loved her and didn't try to control her. She grew up strong-willed and free. She married someone she loved with all her heart despite his – what I conceived as – faults. She was happy. I had to bury her a year ago – I had to watch as they lowered her body into the ground – I had to choose the inscription on my own daughter's grave. Do you understand that, Cissy? Do you understand what it does to a person? No one should have to bury their child. No one should have to go on living longer than their children. Believe me, Narcissa, I know how to be a mother. I also know what it feels like to have your heart ripped to shreds. So I think I can understand what you're feeling right now."

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said quietly. "You know I didn't mean that. It's just – like you said, Andromeda, you know what being a mother is like. I love Draco with all my heart. I just... forget about everything else when I think of him."

"I know," Andromeda said. "I don't blame you. I suppose he is my nephew, after all. In a way."

"In every way. Black blood is strong, Andromeda. We will always be your family."

She laughed harshly. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you. 'I'll always be your family.' Where were you, Narcissa, when your niece was born? Where were you when our family disowned me? Where were you when Bella was trying to kill me? In our case, water is thicker than blood. I met many wonderful people when I left you, Narcissa. I married the man I loved and had a beautiful daughter. I will never regret the life I chose when I left the family, not one second of it. You're the one who made the wrong choice, you and the rest of our family. And your son, too."

"The blood that makes you my sister –"

She slapped Cissy's outstretched hand away. "Haven't you understood yet, Narcissa? Don't you yet know that there is no such thing as pure, expensive, clean Black blood? We all have the same blood running through our veins." She nodded at Teddy. "This is your niece's son. He's a half-blood, and his blood is as red as mine and as red as your own. Blood is red, Narcissa. It isn't filthy, it isn't something to be proud of and it certainly never was black. It's red."

Teddy whined in her arms, frightened by her tone.

"I believe you," Narcissa said. "I believe you. Stop it, Andromeda. I wasn't trying to accuse anyone. Do you honestly think that whenever I look at Teddy, I think of his half-breed father, his half-blood mother and hate him? I love the boy, Andromeda. You know I do."

"I'm just worried," Andromeda said, looking down at her grandson. "I wasn't able to protect his parents. My daughter. How could they trust me with their son? I worry about him. I don't think I can do the right things for him. I'll never be able to replace his parents. They should have been here for him."

"Just raise him like you told me you raised you daughter. Raise him to be happy."

"I think I do know," Andromeda admitted. "I do know you love Teddy."

"I would have loved your daughter, too, if I had known her."

Andromeda gasped and closed her eyes. The words brutally brought back to her the image of Nymphadora, her eyes, her voice, her clumsiness, her everything. Nymphadora, who might not have died if her mother hadn't been a Black, if her aunt hadn't been insane.

Cold fingers covered her hand, and she opened her eyes. Narcissa had reached out to take her hand again, but she snatched it back as though scalded. Hurt flashed in her sister's eyes and she looked away, then gasped.

"Andy, look at Teddy."

"I've just –" She froze and stared at her grandson.

"Mum," Teddy said, tugging at her sleeve. "Mum..."

And she didn't have the courage to tell him, once more, that she wasn't his mother. Because... Because Teddy's hair had been brown, dark brown, almost black. Just as brown as Andromeda's. And it had suddenly become bright blue. As blue as the sky on a clear summer day. As bright as the tears that sparkled in Cissy's eyes. As bright as his future in a world free of conflict.

"He'll be fine, Andy. I promise."

Narcissa reached out to take her hand again, and this time, she let her.

This is the next-to-last time you're pressing that "next" button...

If you're not too eager, you could always pause for a review... or wait until the last chapter and hit me with an onslaught of criticism for all 49 chapters that you've been holding in for months. I suppose I'd appreciate that.

I'll post the next two chapters in one go, because they just go well together. And then it'll be over.

Thank you, everyone.