A/N:

Written for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Club October/November drabble challenges. The goal was to write thirteen drabbles (150-350 words each) for thirteen keywords.

Candle (1964)

Andromeda gasped when she entered the Great Hall. Warmth immediately enveloped her, and it was so much richer than the warmth in the rest of the castle. It was buzzing with magical energy. It felt uplifting and cheerful.

Ivy and wood, but also pumpkins and roots of plants she did not know, hung from the normally bare walls. Her friends were already seated, but she was glued to the spot. She marvelled at the enchanted ceiling and breathed in deeply, revelled in the scent of cinnamon and foreign spices. The beige candles on the chandelier were lit and bathed the hall in a warm, bright light.

Everything was so different from the Samhain celebrations she knew from home. There was no blood, no rites, and no etiquette, despite being a well-behaved student. She felt safe, cosy, and at ease.

The tables were filled with all sorts of food she had never seen—let alone eaten—and she was eager to taste it all.

"Close your mouth," Bellatrix hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling her close to her body. She gently pressed a kiss to her sister's cheek. "It's unbecoming to stare like that. Get used to it."

They walked to the table and sat down next to each other. Andromeda was thrilled that her older sister chose to sit with her. She had missed her during those last two years.

The food was delicious. Everything was savoury or sweet. It was hot and tasted nothing like the bland food her parents had ordered their house elves to cook. A grateful smile spread across her lips when she took a sip of sweet pumpkin juice.

"I've seen you chat with mudbloods," Bellatrix whispered and shot her a poignant glance.

Fear rose in her chest as the food in her mouth turned to ash.

"It won't happen again," she whispered, suddenly feeling cold.

Perhaps home was closer than she thought.

Sanguine (1969)

The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. The room felt stuffy and too warm. It was worse than the countless Samhain rites she'd witnessed.

Bella's cheeks were paler than she had ever seen. The lacy dark dress she wore washed her out, making her look translucent with dull and dry curls. Andromeda swallowed thickly. They were killing her slowly. Making her compliant. A little bit more every day. She knew that one day her sister would be gone, erased by the family that bore and the family that bought her. The wound on Bella's forearm was still bleeding, but no one would heal her. Not until she was Rodolphus's.

It made Andromeda sick to her stomach. It made her want to scream and run. But she stayed put. Her aunt was standing close to her, so close she felt her warmth against her skin. The stern witch had been watching her the whole day long, her black eyes always attentive, always searching for imperfections. If Andromeda flinched, she would give herself away, and she knew that her aunt would invade her mind with brutal force seconds later. They would force veritaserum and calming drought down her throat. They would trap her. Just like they had trapped Bella, but Bella had gone willingly, sacrificing her freedom for duty.

It was clearer now than ever that she had to look after herself. No one else had her well-being in mind. A cold shiver ran down Andromeda's spine and she only barely managed to suppress the tremble.

Walburga grabbed her arm and dug her nails into her flesh.

Andromeda inhaled, trying to keep her breathing even as she looked at her aunt with a relaxed smile on her lips.

She could do it. Only a few months left to go.

Ring (1974)

Andromeda walked out the door, desperate to feel an ounce of freedom. She was desperate to get away from the baby girl who was always crying, crying, crying. Away from Teddy who was always stressed and angry. Away from the parents and sisters that weren't hers. Away from this life that always took from her and barely gave back.

The tears tracked down her face relentlessly, and she felt how the cold wind almost froze them to her lashes.

Breathing was hard. She tried to think back to the last time it had been easy. Holding her baby girl, perhaps, but then she had started crying, and there hadn't been many hours of silence since.

Pain cut through her heart and she fell to her knees in the deep snow a few hundred metres into the woods.

Those ugly thoughts that always threatened to break through her carefully crafted barrier hit her full force and she succumbed to them, feeling the pain they caused her. Uprooted. Discarded. Scared. She screamed and raged and let the cold draft swallow her words.

Once the pain in her chest had lessened and her mind was a little clearer, she lifted her hands to her face to warm them with her breath. Her eyes caught on her wedding band. A delicate silver ring that had come with big promises: Safety, love, and freedom.

She had to go back. She was about to get up when warm hands grabbed her shoulders.

"Let's fix this," Teddy said. "Let's not give up on us."

She knelt down behind her and drew her into her warm embrace. Andromeda let her rock her, let her soothe her, and it was intimate and wonderful and she loved her. Still, it wasn't enough to quell the darkness that so often invaded her mind and heart.

She feared nothing would ever banish it, and eventually, there would be nothing else left.

Treeline (1980)

The snowball hit Andromeda on her exposed neck and sent cold drops of water down her collarbone.

"Got ya!" Teddy yelled in a cocky voice.

Andromeda almost retaliated with her wand, but once she was out of her stupor, her beloved had long disappeared into the treeline, undoubtedly hunting her sister.

Andromeda was forming new snowballs with intricate wand movements when Teddy's worried face appeared in her line of sight.

"Dora's gone!" Teddy's voice was strangled and it sent a feeling of panic—hot and urgent—throughout her body. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her heartbeat quickened, and her mind went into overdrive.

"Bellatrix," she whispered, voicing her biggest fear that one day she would come and take her daughter. The fear closed her throat up and made her knees wobbly.

Teddy grabbed her elbow and dragged her criss-cross through the woods as they called their daughter's name. She repeated it over and over again, but Andromeda couldn't speak. She couldn't think. She couldn't feel. They had just been eating and drinking. Dora had adored opening the packages, overjoyed by what was inside. Everything had been perfect.

"No, no, no," she whispered.

At some point Teddy let go of her and she dropped to the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw a pink flash of movement.

Moments later, tiny, ice-cold hands pressed against her cheeks and her daughter's face came into focus. She looked scared and rattled, but she was fine. She was warm and breathing. She was in her arms.

She pressed Nymphadora against her chest. She kissed her hair and cheeks over and over again. She hated this. She was so sick of being scared.

Midnight (1985)

After years of war and uncertainty, it felt good to just go out as a couple. To leave behind the responsibilities for a few hours at a time. With their daughter safely tucked away at Hogwarts, it was even easier. They had snogged and danced, and for the first time in years, Andromeda's mind had not been invaded by a single care in the world.

The gin and tonic had been tasty, and they didn't shy away from it. By midnight, they had tasted half of the drinks on the card. Andromeda hadn't been this drunk in years—or perhaps ever—and Teddy was equally as lost. She looked at her with tired eyes and a goofy smile, leaning in for a kiss, which Andromeda eagerly gave her.

When she almost fell off her chair, Andromeda decided it was time to leave and guided Teddy to the exit. They stumbled out into the street and walked towards Diagon Alley, giggling whenever people dressed as witches passed them by.

It was peculiar for Andromeda to see Muggles celebrating something that was a sacred rite to her blood family with silly costumes and candy. Unable to stop them, her thoughts circled to her family and how she had felt during those rites. How raw and cutting the magic had been, and how it had left her feeling alone and lost in the dark, when it should have given her a sense of belonging.

Before she knew it, she had guided them to the floo.

"Where do we live?" Teddy slurred, causing Andromeda to chuckle. Teddy grabbed her tightly around the waist when they stepped into the hearth, laying her weight on Andromeda. It almost knocked Andromeda to the ground, but she gladly carried them both.

At home, they slipped out of their alcohol-stained clothes and fell naked into bed. They snuggled close and held each other. This was family. This was home. In Teddy's presence, she never felt alone.

Overhead (1987)

"Yes! Fuck off like you always do!" Andromeda yelled. The last of her tirade was swallowed by the clap of the door closing in her face.

Frustrated, she huffed out a breath and crossed her arms. The fight had started three days ago with Teddy declaring she wouldn't have time to prepare anything for Christmas. She especially didn't have time to go try and pry Nymphadora away from her best friend.

The teenager spent the first of her Christmas holiday at her best friend's place in Brighton. Andromeda was not looking forward to the drama. Mainly, because she understood her daughter. Tonks Christmas was always messy and loud, and both she and Nymphadora needed breathers in between.

She quickly gathered all the food she had been preparing and the numerous presents for her nieces and nephews, and apparated to her in-laws.

What greeted her was not what she had been expecting. Nymphadora rushed to her side and took the load off her arms.

Andromeda's eyes met Teddy's. The witch approached her quickly and gently took her hand.

"I was about to apparate home and tell you I fetched her."

"Mistletoe," Teddy's sister exclaimed as she pointed towards the ceiling.

Teddy leaned in and Andromeda closed the distance, realising it had been two days since they'd kissed last. She wrapped her hands around Teddy's neck and Teddy grabbed her by the waist.

"Let's talk tonight, yes?" Andromeda asked, and Teddy nodded. She had that warm smile on her lips that always made Andromeda's heart beat a little faster.

"I love you," they said in unison and laughed.

She loved her. With all her heart.

Omen (1996)

A gust of wind blew through the house, chilling Andromeda, despite the numerous blankets she was covered with.

"Don't be silly," she told herself and cast another warming charm. She had been cold for days. Ever since the Prophet had reported about a young wizard claiming to have seen Bellatrix Lestrange in Knockturn Alley. The newspaper lay open on the coffee table in front of her. Her sister's face was staring at her, grotesquely distorted into a grimace. It looked as if a silent scream escaped from her cracked lips.

The longer Andromeda looked at the picture, the less she saw Bella and the more she feared Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I will catch you," Bellatrix had yelled after her when she left home for good. A quarter of a decade later, the memory still made her stomach sink.

Another breeze. The candle flickered and died. A familiar taste of magic settled on her tongue. She pressed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around her middle.

"You can't be here," she told the ever-moving picture. The house was heavily warded. Nymphadora and her Auror friends had made sure of that. "You can't be."

Samhain, she remembered with a start. She had always been perceptive of changes in the magic around her. There must be lost souls wandering around.

The revelation eased some of the tension, but some remained. Like it always would. Until the day either she or Bella died.

At least for now, she was safe.

Crisp (1998)

The air was cold and only a faint smell of smoke coming from Muggle houses surrounding the cemetery was perceptible in the crisp air.

No clouds obscured the starry sky. Andromeda allowed herself a moment of peace, finding tranquillity in the star's everlasting glimmer. She took a few calming breaths and then knelt on the cold, damp grass. She cast the protective charms. One by one, taking her time with them as she tried to slow her racing heart.

"Muffliato," she whispered and felt the bubble of silence settled all around her.

Once everything was ready, she lit the candles, heated the herbs and spices, and spoke the incantation. She repeated it ten more times, and then—as a last resort—cut her palm with her wand, dropping blood into the circle in front of her.

With the last of her strength, she chanted the words another ten times.

"Please," she whispered, eyes filling with tears. "Please, my angel." Her voice cracked and she hung her head. There were souls she was feeling, dancing all around her, but Nymphadora was not one of them.

The tightness that settled in her stomach was sickening. It felt as if the stars were mocking her. The hope she had harboured in her heart evaporated and left behind a bitter emptiness.

"Please," she said, clutching at her chest.

All she had wanted was to feel her one more time. Just one more time.

Sparkling (2002)

Minerva pressed a glass of champagne into Andromeda's hands and gently nudged her shoulder before walking towards Anthony Greengrass.

The Ministry officials gathered in the Great Hall of Hogwarts for an early Christmas dinner were not the most enlightening company. But she was good at dealing with politicians, so she had immediately agreed to support Minerva that evening.

"You're one of us, Andromeda," a voice to her left said. When she turned to look, she saw Xavier Selwyn ogling her chest.

After losing everything to scum like Selwyn and his lackeys, the mere thought of being compared to them almost made her hex him. She stepped closer, towering over him in her heels, and lifted her chin. "I'm many things, Selwyn. But one of you? I'm not."

He smirked and put his hand on her hip, pawing her flesh. "Mhm, you're fiery. Just like Bella."

Her stomach sank. Yet moments later, the uneasiness was replaced by rage boiling in her chest. She lifted her hand, gathering momentum to smack him but firm fingers grabbed her wrist mid-swing.

"No," Minerva said and slapped him herself, her rings leaving a mark on his cheek.

Selwyn smirked. He lazily reached for Andromeda's glass, emptied it in one go, and smashed it on the floor. "You'll hear from us, Headmistress," he spat, and gestured for his friends to leave.

Minerva deflated and grabbed Andromeda's face. "Are you okay?"

Andromeda nodded. "I am. Are you insane?"

"Do you really think I fear those pricks?" The smirk on Minerva's face was bright and beautiful.

The tension between them rose and Andromeda closed the distance for their third kiss. It was a new beginning. After all the pain she was more than ready for it.

Frostbite (2005)

It was a bitingly cold evening, but it didn't stop Andromeda from leaving the warmth of her in-laws house to visit her other loved ones. With Teddy safe and loved in the arms of the Tonks family, she ventured out to the cemetery. Three graves were positioned next to each other. One of them was empty.

To this day, the pain of not knowing where Teddy lay tore at Andromeda's heart. It was paired with a fear of finding traces of her in the woods that they both loved. The woods that Teddy had told her she would go to first. She didn't know for how long Teddy had been camping there until she was killed, but she clearly remembered the day the invisible connection to her love had snapped. The day their bonds had been severed without any hope of repair.

Andromeda lit three candles with the tip of her wand and placed them on the graves. Nymphadora lay in the middle, between the two people who loved her dearly. Andromeda liked to think that she was warm and cosy in their arms. Safe from all the harm the world wanted to inflict upon her. There was no more pain, Andromeda reminded herself as tears began to choke her. All three of them were floating and free.

She knelt down, not minding the wetness of the cold earth that seeped through her robes, even though it made her painfully aware that she was still here while they were not. The slight warmth from the candles did nothing to fend off the cold that took hold of her fingers, and soon they were numb, but she couldn't get up. She wanted to stay close to them. Feel the earth that held them tight and safe. So she sat until the cold was so harsh, it began to physically hurt her.

"I love you," she whispered into the night as she got up to leave.

She would never stop loving them. She would never stop missing them.

North (2008)

"Come back to bed," Minerva said. Her voice was playful and warm, soothing, and caring. It was a sound Andromeda would never become tired of.

She couldn't tell for how long she had been staring out of the window, watching the sparse snowflakes dance their way to the snow-covered ground. It was a dark night. The moon was only a delicate silhouette that was visible through a hole in the clouds. No city lights were disturbing the darkness. It was calm. Only the crackling flames interrupted the silence of the night. She wanted to open the window and inhale the crisp air.

Scottish winters had been something she had to get used to, having lived in the South all her life. Now, she loved nothing more than spending the coldest days of the year holed up in Minerva's cosy cottage.

Arms wrapped around her middle, and she was pulled back against a warm, firm body. Wicked lips kissed her neck and soft fingertips danced over her abdomen.

"What are the stars telling you tonight, mo ghràidh?" Minerva asked.

Andromeda held the witch's hands and leaned her head against her chest. She closed her eyes as a wave of melancholy washed over her.

"What they're always telling me. That I'm not alone." Her heart was Minerva's, and she had no intention of taking it back.

Minerva turned her around in her arms and hugged her tightly. Andromeda slipped her fingers through the loopholes of her dressing gown and inhaled deeply. She kissed her exposed collarbone and smiled when Minerva sighed. The night was still young.

"Let's go back to bed," she said, letting the older witch lead.

Juniper (2018)

How strange, Andromeda thought as she took another sip of gin. It was citrusy and strong. A perfect mixture of orange and spice mixed with tonic and ice, completely unsuitable for such a night, but Andromeda needed to forget.

For just a moment, she needed to forget that twenty years ago, she had been kneeling at her daughter's grave on Samhain with all hope erased from her heart, but the thoughts of that horrible year were as persistent as the pain.

How cruel life could be, she mused, to take everything from her but the baby boy that was now a grown man. He had left her too, but his leaving didn't hurt. On the contrary, it filled her with pride and an indescribable feeling of success.

Another sip. This one burned less, but it still tingled and warmed her from the inside.

She was sixty-five now, and her daughter would be as old as Andromeda had been when she lost her. She leaned her head back on the armrest and swallowed the tears. She'd shed enough tears for a lifetime.

A cold rush of air tousled her hair, and she sat bolt upright, the glass shattering in her hand, but she didn't feel the sting.

"Nymphadora," she whispered. Her daughter's soul brushed against her own, gentle and warm. Her touch was familiar and comforting. For a few heartbeats, Andromeda felt no pain, and everything was bright and warm. She reached out her hands, desperate to touch her, but her fingers closed around the air.

"I love you," she choked out. As fast as Nymphadora had appeared, she was gone. It was dark again.

Andromeda hugged herself and cried, but not all of the tears were sad ones.

Showstopper (2037)

Andromeda prepared herself a hot toddy and sat down on the couch.

Soon her great-grandkids would come by to show her their Halloween costumes and then Minerva would whisk her away to dinner.

She took a big sip and savoured the moment of serenity before the storm. She snuggled deeper into the fluffy pillows and closed her eyes. The healer's words ran through her mind like a song on repeat. Her life would be over soon. She wouldn't get to see her great-grandkids board the Hogwarts Express. Her light would extinguish long before that.

The reality of it slowly settled down on her shoulders and began to weigh her down. Her nose burned and her eyes grew watery.

"Oh!" She said, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Tears spilled down her cheek, hot and restless, but they didn't feel cathartic. Nothing was liberating about letting go and letting herself feel. Their salty traces burned on her face and her heart throbbed. She would die. Curtain closed. No encore.

She cried until her throat was raw and no more tears found their way to her cheeks.

No matter how hard she had tried, the darkness had caught up, and somehow—strangely so—she wasn't scared. In a moment so clear and bright in her mind, she realised she was ready to let go. This time, she would go to a place where she could rest. Where life wouldn't keep dragging her into heartache. She would be safe.

It didn't bother her that, in exchange, she would never see the light again.