A/N: This chapter is from Andromeda's POV! Enjoy :)

By the way, we're getting close to the end. This is ch. 9 of 12.

...

29 June 1980

Azkaban was as miserable as she thought it would be.

Andromeda Tonks held a basket full of healing potions and salves close to her body, feeling the crushing misery of the dementors growing stronger as she and Alastor Moody landed at the North Sea island prison that housed wizarding Britain's worst criminals.

It also happened to house Remus Lupin, who Andromeda hoped had survived the full moon the night before. After losing their cousin Sirius less than a fortnight before, Andromeda couldn't fathom having to share another loss with Dora. It would be hard enough as it was to tell Remus that another one of his closest friends had died; it would be harder still to tell Dora if Remus hadn't survived the last full moon.

"You'll have a half-hour," Alastor said, with a grunt, as they got close to Remus's cell. "Best I can offer. You know what to do?"

"Dora and Lily gave me everything I needed."

Andromeda held the basket tightly as they rounded the corner and stopped in front of a dingy cell that reeked of wet dog, feces, and the metallic tang of blood. Andromeda held in the urge to retch from the scent and instead focused on the bloodied, naked, and injured man on the floor.

"This isn't allowed, but Lupin's not going to live if I don't let you in," said Alastor, before he muttered a series of incantations that undid the complicated locks on the cell bars. "I'll keep watch out here."

Andromeda went into the cell and sank to her knees at Remus's side. She panicked, not knowing what to do first, when he shifted slightly against the stone floor.

He's alive, she thought, which means I don't have to check his pulse yet.

Andromeda waved her wand over his body, thankful her daughter was clumsy, as she'd gotten very accustomed to scanning for injuries.

Three or four broken ribs. A fractured femur. Innumerable cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

The charms to repair the broken ribs and fractured femur came first. Remus groaned with each "Episkey" that Andromeda cast, but he hadn't said anything else.

"Remus?" she said softly. "Remus?"

A strangled groan escaped from his lips.

"Remus…it's Andromeda. I'm here to heal you. I hope you don't mind…I've got to put my hands on you for the dittany."

Another strange, garbled sound came from the back of his throat. Deciding it was as good of an agreement as she would get, she dipped her fingers in the jar of dittany she'd brought and began working it into his torn flesh, starting with his neck and shoulders.

He had his back to her, and not wanting to invade his privacy much further, she kept her gaze on his back while she healed him. The wounds on his back and legs stitched themselves together under her careful touch. She took a deep breath, removed her cloak, and gently placed it over his groin to turn him over and give him some modicum of privacy.

"Pad…foot?" croaked Remus, lifting his head just off the stone.

"No, it's Andromeda…save your voice."

Remus screeched, eyes widening in terror, and he squirmed against the floor.

"Remus, calm down," Andromeda said sharply. "I'm not here to hurt you."

He stilled, trembling against the cold air of the prison, and Andromeda continued healing him until his wounds were red and pink scars.

"I don't see any clothes for you."

"Gone," Remus grunted. "Don't have any."

Andromeda looked around the cell. There was almost nothing in it, save for a few pieces of parchment sticking out from a crevice in the stone higher up off the floor.

"Remus – you don't have a place to sleep?"

"Destroyed it…moon."

Andromeda's heart sank. The poor man had no bed, sheets, or clothing to keep him warm because the werewolf he became every full moon would destroy them. She wondered how he'd survived for so long with so little.

Deciding he needed her cloak more than she did, she transfigured it to be more like a blanket.

"Keep my cloak. I'll come back at the next moon and bring you something to keep you warmer…I hope you don't mind if I bring some of Ted's old things."

"Where is—" Remus coughed violently, his thin, bony chest heaving so much Andromeda thought he might break.

She inhaled inhaled deeply, placed a hand on Remus's shoulder, and said, "Sirius died a few weeks ago. He was killed by my sister, Bellatrix."

Remus stilled for a moment. Andromeda thought his heart might've actually stopped, but as soon as his chest twitched, she heard him gasping for breath.

"No…no…he can't…"

"I'm sorry…I don't know exactly what happened, but Bellatrix died too, at the Ministry." Andromeda's voice had grown heavy and thick as she tried not to dwell on the recent family deaths. "I'm sorry, Remus."

Tears fell down the sides of his face and cheeks. Andromeda didn't know how to comfort him; there was little she could offer but—

"I have something from Dora," Andromeda said suddenly. "A letter."

Remus stilled again. With a low, shallow breath, he asked, "Is she…they…alive?"

"Yes. Dora and the twins are just fine. I saw her last night. Today's her last day of work and then she'll be on maternity leave until November, I believe." She pulled out the letter and handed it to Remus, but he was too weak to open it himself.

"Do you want me to read it to you?"

"No, thank you," Remus rasped. His brow came together and his lips tightened into a thin line as he put his palms on the floor and heaved himself up.

Andromeda bent down to help him and sat him up against the wall of the cell.

"I…I'll open it later." Remus's eyes drifted to the cell bars. Andromeda turned her head; Alastor was tapping his wand against the bars to open them.

"I'll be back in a month. Maybe by then your children will be born." Andromeda offered a small smile, which Remus didn't return. He fiddled with the letter instead, and mumbled a low "thank you" to her as she exited the cell.

She hoped she'd still find him alive the next time she visited.

…..

13 July 1980

"Where is Walburga?" asked Andromeda, stepping out of the Floo to the library of Grimmauld Place. She eyed her surroundings curiously, expecting her mother or her aunt to come from the shadows, but no one came.

"I sent her and your mother off to France for the next month," Dora said tiredly. "Cissa helped me convince them that we needed Parisian baby clothes. Bullshite, all of it, but it got them away."

"Didn't Walburga want to stay for the birth?"

"She doesn't want to be here for the actual birth…too much for her 'nerves,' apparently. She's fine waiting until they're a few weeks old to meet them."

Dora sat on a green velvet chaise with her legs stretched out in front of her. Unlike her usual appearance, she had mousy brown hair, identical to Nymphadora's natural shade, and darker, twinkling grey eyes. She had dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones weren't as high as they usually were, leading Andromeda to wonder if this was her cousin's natural appearance.

But that would be preposterous, thought Andromeda, as Pandora couldn't look so naturally like Nymphadora. They both had the Black family genes, but Pandora's maternal line hailed from the Scamanders, while Nymphadora's paternal line hailed from the Tonkses.

It was impossible, wasn't it?

"Do you mind if Professor Dumbledore comes to join us today?" Dora said, straining to sit up. Andromeda joined her side and helped her adjust in her seat.

"You must be terribly uncomfortable. I can't imagine, with twins—"

"I'm fine," Dora said dismissively, as her brows knit together and she clutched a hand to her side. "False labor pains…it'll pass."

"Is anyone helping you?"

"I was going to ask you if you could help," Dora said quietly. "Cissa has Draco now…and I didn't want Walburga."

"Of course I'll help you," Andromeda replied instantly. "That's what family is for, isn't it?"

Dora nodded, took a sip of water, and put her hands on her enormous belly.

"Can Dumbledore come over? It's important."

Andromeda clasped her hands together. She rarely spent time with Professor Dumbledore. As a student, she had been intimidated by him, but Dora seemed to have developed a good rapport with him. Andromeda suspected it had to do with the many covert activities Dora underwent in her time – as well as her connection to the Scamanders – but she'd wondered if there was more to it than met the eye.

"Yes, he can," Andromeda finally replied.

Dora took out her wand, cast the Patronus Charm, and sent off her silvery wolf with a message to Albus Dumbledore.

"You're an extraordinary witch, you know," Andromeda said, admiring the wisps of the silvery wolf as they went off. "You're not even twenty and I know you can perform magic beyond my wildest dreams."

Dora shook her head and laughed darkly. "You're about to find out why."

Andromeda bent her head in confusion, ready to ask what Dora meant, when Albus Dumbledore arrived in the library of Grimmauld Place. It was a strange sight for Andromeda, as the home had always been associated with her blood purist, Slytherin family, but Dora seemed to accept his presence instantly.

"Hello, Mrs. Tonks," Dumbledore said calmly. "It's good to see you again."

"Call me Andromeda. It's a pleasure to see you too, sir."

"No need for the 'sir,'" Dumbledore replied, taking a seat near Dora. "I see you're prepared for the conversation, Dora?"

"I've been waiting almost nine years, so yeah, I am." Dora's gaze drifted up to Andromeda. "Mum, can you take a seat, please?"

"You don't usually call me 'Mum' so intentionally."

Andromeda's eyes darted from Dumbledore to Dora. They exchanged sideways glances as Andromeda took a seat across from Dora, sitting up straight and feeling the anxiety build in her heart.

"Well…Albus, you can start whenever you're ready," Dora said, sitting back in her seat. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

What happened over the next two hours completely shattered Andromeda's world.

She learned that the young woman sitting across from her was her daughter from another time.

She realized her daughter was now older than Andromeda was.

She discovered Dora had been lying for years in an effort to win a war that hadn't been won over fifteen years into the future.

The pieces of the last several years came falling into place, from the strange coincidences to the eerie, uncanny similarities between Dora and Nymphadora.

There was a reason that Dora sometimes called Andromeda 'Mum.' There was a reason Dora had always been so compulsive and aggressive in protecting Nymphadora's life. There was a reason why Dora could perform magic far beyond her age and training – she had been an Auror in her previous time, and she'd been working as a double agent since then.

The puzzle that was Pandora Black finally came together, and Andromeda was in tears by the time Dumbledore finished speaking.

Her daughter, her little Nymphadora, was grown up in the young woman before her, and she had suffered deeply for the sake of everyone around her. And now she was pregnant with twins – Andromeda's grandchildren – which was even harder to believe, as Andromeda wasn't yet 30 years old.

Dora was curiously calm as Dumbledore described everything, up until he mentioned that the reason Dora couldn't say anything was due to the Unbreakable Vows she'd made over the years. It was then that Dora un-morphed the scars on her hands and wrists, a tangled web of vow upon vow she'd made to various people.

"I wish I could've told you, Mum," Dora said softly, after Dumbledore concluded his explanation. "But you realize now why I couldn't, and I hope you can forgive me for deceiving you. I'm only telling you now because…because if something happens to me and Remus, you need to know who I was so you can tell them." She placed her hands on her belly, sighing deeply at it.

Andromeda was at a loss for words. She'd known Dora wanted her to raise her twins if something happened to her and Remus, but the explanation she'd been given had to do with the children's true father, rather than Dora herself.

"You can say no," Dora added, looking downcast. "I understand if you wouldn't want to…after all this."

"We can also obliviate you, if you'd like," Dumbledore added. "I'll ask you to make an Unbreakable Vow that can be undone when the war is over and Voldemort is defeated. If you prefer we obliviate you, we can tell you the truth again whenever that happens."

Andromeda's hands trembled as a question formed on her tongue.

"I have a question," she said, in a strained voice. "Why now? Why not wait until…after?"

A dark shadow fell over Dora's face. "Because I don't know if I'll survive."

Andromeda blinked rapidly at Dora. "How do you mean…you don't know if you'll survive? You have to – you're my child!"

"We're all doing our best, Andromeda," Dumbledore said. "Despite our efforts, we lost Sirius last month and we're trying very hard to keep Remus alive. This war is harder than any of us expected."

"Please, Mum. Just promise me you'll take care of my children if anything happens to me or Remus. If something happens to him…they're going to be all I have left of him." Dora's eyes were glistening with tears as she added, "If something happens to us, I want them to grow up with their proper family…please."

Andromeda took a deep breath and replied, "I promised you many months ago that I would take care of them. I'm not changing my mind." She stood and walked to Dora, placing her arms around her daughter and kissing the top of her head, as if she was the eight-year-old she'd left behind at home that morning.

"Thank you," Dora said tearfully. "Will you help me, too? I…can't do this alone."

"I will, sweetheart. I'll help all of you."

Dora cried against her; it reminded Andromeda of an incident a few years ago, when Dora had been jumpy and easily startled after a summer with the Lestranges. Now that she knew the truth, Andromeda wondered just what horrors Dora – her daughter, she reminded herself – had been witness to.

"Am I to assume you'll agree to an Unbreakable Vow, Andromeda?" Dumbledore asked, sounding relieved.

"I'll do it," she agreed, watching Dumbledore rise and instruct her to take Dora's hand in hers.

The Unbreakable Vow was made. Another set of scars appeared on Dora's hand and wrist, while only a thin set of lines appeared on Andromeda's hand and wrist.

"Thank you, Mum," Dora said, leaning her head on Andromeda's abdomen. "I really needed you."

The simple words Dora had spoken broke something inside of Andromeda, and she clutched Dora more tightly, hoping to be the mother her daughter had needed for almost a decade.

…..

29 July 1980

"Just breathe, Dora," Andromeda said, feeling her hand being crushed by Dora's grip. "It's going to feel better once you start pushing." Dora grunted a reply as another contraction ripped through her midsection.

"Good morning," a Healer said cheerily, upon walking into the hospital room at St. Mungo's. "I see you brought a friend, Mrs. Lestrange!"

"I'm her cousin," Andromeda lied. "And is she ready to push yet?"

"I'm Healer Morgan, and I'll let you know in a moment." The Healer came around to observe Dora's progress. Upon seeing it, he looked up and smiled.

"Just as I predicted," he said smugly. "It's time."

"Thank…Merlin," Dora groaned. "Get…them…out!"

After almost 35 hours of contractions, an additional hour of pushing, and several expletives later, Dora was finally able to bring her first child into the world.

Andromeda watched in wonder as the first baby – Andromeda's grandson, she marveled to herself – emerged screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Leo," Dora gasped, upon seeing the boy wrapped up and placed on her chest.

"You can't rest for long, Mrs. Lestrange," the Healer said, summoning one of two bassinets towards Andromeda. "Have your cousin take him and put him in the bassinet. We've got to get your other baby out."

It only took five minutes for Dora's little girl, Andromeda's granddaughter, to follow. She too screeched loudly upon entering the world, and after a few moments, she was wrapped up and brought to Dora.

"Lyra," Dora said, as she pressed a kiss to her daughter's head.

"Not done yet, Mrs. Lestrange," the Healer reminded.

"It'll be quick," Andromeda murmured to Dora, who grew irritated upon having to finish the birthing process.

Andromeda took Lyra from Dora's arms and placed her in the second bassinet.

When Dora was ready and the Healer had finished with her, Andromeda took pictures of her with them, knowing that at the next visit to Azkaban, Remus would be overjoyed to see Dora and his children alive and well. It was all that kept him going, and Dora would treasure the pictures of herself with her children one day, too.

The next few hours passed quickly as Andromeda helped Dora learn to feed the twins, change them, and care for their needs.

It was a few hours later when Andromeda noticed the change in Leo's hair while Dora fed Lyra.

"Dora," Andromeda said, clutching her hand to her heart. "Leo – he's – his hair!"

Dora's eyes flew open upon seeing Leo's hair shift from its mousy brown to a bright turquoise.

"He's a Metamorphmagus?" Dora said, dumbfounded. "This – didn't this happen to me?"

"Nymphadora's hair changed a few hours after she was born," Andromeda said excitedly, picking up Leo to examine his hair. "Look at him – it's becoming a little bluer now."

"Mum…Mum!"

"I'm sorry, Dora, I—"

Dora was nodding her head down towards Lyra, whose hair had also shifted from its initial sandy brown to a soft lavender.

"They're both Metamorphmagi?" Andromeda nearly shrieked, her jaw dropping at the sight of the blue-and-violet haired newborns in the hospital room.

"They must be!" Dora grinned widely between Leo and Lyra. "Two healthy Metamorphmagi…Merlin, this is better than I could've ever imagined. Remus is going to be – he's not going to believe it until he sees it."

"I'll take more pictures." Andromeda helped Dora finish with Lyra, and then she took Leo and brought her to Dora's other arm. Leo's hair had shifted back to turquoise while Lyra's stayed purple, similar to the shade of flowering heather.

"They're perfect," Dora said softly, bringing her lips to each of their foreheads. "What do you think, Mum? They're your grandchildren."

"It'll take time to get used to grandchildren who are young enough to be my children." Andromeda gently ran a finger through Leo's turquoise hair. "I feel very lucky to know the truth now."

"I hope the war is over soon…then me, Remus, and our babies can be a proper family. We'll move somewhere where we can have space…somewhere we can be free."

"You're not thinking of running away to America, are you?"

"No…I thought somewhere north. Yorkshire, maybe, where there aren't too many people, Muggle or magical. I think Remus would like that."

"That sounds lovely, Dora. If you'd like, Ted…your father, could help you find somewhere to live."

"You can tell Dad and little me about them," Dora murmured. "Little Tonks will be happy to know there are more of us. I hope I can raise them to know her, too, as an older sister…maybe an aunt…we can tell them the truth one day."

"When we're all ready," Andromeda agreed. "For now, you should sleep. I'll be right here if you need me, okay?" She took Leo and Lyra from Dora and placed them in their respective bassinets, giving Dora some time to sleep.

"Thank you, Mum. I love you," Dora whispered, as she sank into her pillow.

"I love you, Nymphadora."

The words sounded strange coming out of Andromeda's mouth, but Dora smiled and murmured, "Don't call me Nymphadora…it's Tonks," before she drifted off to sleep.

…..

16 August 1980

It had been years since Andromeda saw Dora so happy. When the twins were born, Andromeda sent a letter to the Scamanders, Dora's "maternal" family, inviting them to stay in London for a few weeks before Walburga returned from her Parisian travels.

Now that the Scamanders knew Andromeda knew the truth – that was revealed when Dora referred to Andromeda as her children's 'Gran' – Andromeda hoped that by intertwining the families together better, they could provide more support for Dora when the war was over and she could reveal herself to everyone.

It was the day before Walburga was to return from Paris with Druella, and with the twins a few weeks old, Andromeda decided to host the Scamanders and Dora and the twins at her home. It would be the first time they were all together with Nymphadora and Ted.

"They're here!" Nymphadora shouted from the living room, as Andromeda finished setting the table.

"Who's here, darling?"

Andromeda didn't need a response, as one of the babies was crying. She hurried out of the kitchen to find that Leo was wailing loudly in one of Dora's arms. Nymphadora had her hands on her ears and looked at Andromeda, wide-eyed and confused.

"I'll take him," Andromeda offered. She took Leo from Dora, and swayed, shushing him, as the Floo lit up and two more figures came in.

"Mr. Scamander!" Nymphadora called. "Did you bring your bowtruckle?"

Kind, elderly Newt Scamander was always patient with Nymphadora. Upon learning that he had sent her the signed copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them at her birth, and had later authored other texts on magical creatures, she'd taken to peppering Newt with questions.

"Actually," Newt said, reaching into his coat pocket, "I wondered if you might like your own?"

"My own?" Nymphadora reached out her hand as Newt placed a petite bowtruckle on it.

"I thought you might like one, if it's all right with your mum and dad?" Newt smiled sheepishly up at Andromeda.

"You have to take good care of it, Nymphadora," Andromeda said, as Nymphadora marveled at the tiny green creature on her arm. "Can you thank Mr. Scamander?"

"Thank you, Mr. Scamander! Does he – she? – have a name?"

"He doesn't have one, no. You can—"

"Can I call him Fido, after you?" Nymphadora interrupted. "Your book says you're called Newton Artemis Fido and I like Fido."

Andromeda was about to protest, but Newt smiled. "I'd be honored."

"Hi, Fido. I'm Tonks," Nymphadora said proudly. "Now you can meet my baby cousins, Leo and Lyra."

Tina had Lyra in her arms, rocking her gently, and Dora sighed contentedly next to her, with her hair as pink as Nymphadora's.

"Why don't we eat?" Andromeda suggested, handing Leo off to Dora.

They went to the cramped kitchen to eat. Over lunch, Nymphadora showed off her new bowtruckle, Fido, who seemed to have taken a liking to her instantly. The twins slept – Lyra now in Andromeda's arms and Leo in Tina's – and Dora cleared her throat lightly once lunch was over.

"Do any of you mind if I step out to take care of something? It shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"Do you need help, Dora?" asked Ted.

"No. It's just a quick trip to Gringotts to get something out of one of my vaults. It'll be easier if I do it now, when I have so many people to look after the babies. Is that all right?"

Dora met Andromeda's eyes in particular, and she nodded, hoping that whatever Dora did, it would be safe.

"I'll be back in a little while," said Dora. She kissed the tops of both Leo and Lyra's heads, murmuring to each that she loved them, and stepped out to the sitting room to go through the Floo.

"Nymphadora," Andromeda said carefully, meeting Ted's gaze, "why don't you read a story to the babies? You can do what Dora used to do when you were smaller and make the noses of all the animals."

Nymphadora's eyes lit up and she tugged on Ted's sleeve to help her.

"I'll come along," Newt offered cheerfully. "I'd like to see how you tell stories with your noses."

Nymphadora beamed and ran off to the sitting room. Andromeda handed Lyra to Ted, while Tina handed Leo to Newt, and they all stepped out of the kitchen.

Tina had taken the hint and cast a Muffling Charm and a Repelling Charm on the kitchen door.

"Do you know what she's doing?" asked Andromeda.

Tina shook her head. "We don't know much. When she came into our lives, we were told she was a spy and needed our help. We've come to really care for her, as I hope you know."

"Thank you, Tina," Andromeda said gratefully. "It's been a whirlwind, realizing who she is and what she's done. I can't thank you enough for being there for her when she needed a mother…and now, a great grandmother."

"Dora asked if we could stay in touch. I have a grandson, Rolf, but I'd be honored to have Leo and Lyra as my great-grandchildren. I don't know if Newt and I will live long enough to see Rolf have his own children."

"If Dora wants you to stay in touch, that's what will happen," Andromeda promised. "She's done so much for all of us…and please thank Newt for me for his kindness to Nymphadora. She already had her heart set on becoming a Hufflepuff because of Dora, but Newt's cemented the idea further."

"He misses our daughter, Rosemary," Tina said, gazing in the direction of the sitting room. "She liked magical creatures as much as he did, and I think he sees a little of Rosemary in your girl…speaking of which…"

Tina pulled out a hairbrush from her pocket and handed it to Andromeda.

"This is an emergency Portkey to us. Dora asked if we could arrange one for you and your family in case something goes wrong here."

Andromeda's heart rate increased rapidly. "If what happens?"

"She likes to be vague, not unlike Albus Dumbledore," Tina said, with an air of exasperation. "But I was asked to help and this is it. If you cast "Portus" on it, you'll arrive a block from our home in Boston."

"Does Dora have one?"

"I don't know. I would think so, now that she's a mother. She'll want to escape with her children if something goes wrong."

Andromeda traced a circle in the tablecloth with her finger. She wondered what Dora was up to, and if the Portkey would be needed sooner rather than later.

"How is Remus?" asked Tina, clearly seeing Andromeda's discomfort.

"Alive, as far as I know. I…I'm very concerned, if I'll be honest. He's not well."

"Is there no chance of early release?"

"It's possible he'll be released when the war is over…I hope he is, for Dora's sake. She misses him terribly…and he misses her."

Andromeda sighed deeply, thinking of the last time she'd seen Remus, just before the twins were born. He'd just barely survived another full moon, and Andromeda hoped that the new blankets and clothes she brought him would serve him well until the next full moon.

Tina hesitated slightly as her breath hitched, but she exhaled softly and said, "Andromeda, if something happens to Dora and Remus isn't released from prison, what will you do with the twins?"

Andromeda bit hard on her lower lip, looking down at the hairbrush in her hands.

"I think this is why Dora wanted me to have this…if something happens to her and the war isn't over…we'll go to America with her children and wait it out."

"That's what I think, too. I don't know what she's planning, but based on her behavior lately…I would think she's preparing for her death."

Andromeda inhaled sharply as her eyes became itchy and watery. A lump in rose up in her throat as she considered losing Dora.

"I hope I'm wrong," Tina continued, patting Andromeda's hand gently, "but I know she's had recent losses and she might be thinking of how to keep her family alive in case something happens to her. As hard as it is…you have to let her."

"She's my d-d-d-," Andromeda choked on her words as the Unbreakable Vow prevented her from speaking the truth, but Tina nodded along in understanding. "She may be older…not from here…but she's mine."

"Dora's an adult and she is more than capable of taking care of herself. If something happens to her – it won't be until she's put up a fight. She's nearly Albus's equal with dueling."

Andromeda gaped at Tina, stunned into speechlessness. "She is?"

"That young lady of yours is tremendously talented. You should be proud of who you raised."

The kitchen door swung open and Dora, back in her morph of Pandora Black, arrived with a determined glint in her eyes.

"You undid the charms, I see," Tina said, seemingly unsurprised.

"You only did two," Dora replied, lifting a brow at Tina. "Besides, I can hear through the Muffling Charm when I'm transformed."

"Transformed?" Andromeda said blankly, as Dora became a badger before her eyes. The badger climbed up on one of the kitchen chairs, took a roll with one of its clawed paws, eating it contently. When the badger had eaten, it transformed back into Dora, who grinned at Andromeda.

"When…how?"

"A few years ago, and the way everyone else does it. My stripe changes color with my hair," Dora said cheerfully. "I've no idea if little Tonks would have the same form, but I became a badger."

"Are there any other parts of your life that I'll be learning anytime soon?" Andromeda asked, after several moments of sheer bewilderment at her grown-up daughter.

"Hopefully." Dora's eyes twinkled as a conspiratorial look crossed over her features. "If I'm really lucky, this will all be over soon."

Andromeda felt a twist in her stomach. She didn't trust the gleam in Dora's eyes, but with a glance at Tina, she nodded along as best she could.

Dora was an adult, by all definitions, but Andromeda struggled seeing her as anyone but her newfound daughter, whose life she wanted to protect with her own.