Here we are, back in Britain, a little earlier than when the previous chapter left us.


October 1998 – Five months after the battle of Hogwarts

The Black property at Grimmauld Place had been a lot of things : ostentatious furniture of wood, leather and skins, sprawling displays of history (Orion and Walburga would have loved to display wealth, but limited finances had led them to pretend to value cracked second-century druid scythes over enchanted silver mirrors), and also noise. Walburga and Sirius' arguments, portraits overeager to share their critical opinions, and the crackling of magic : those wards that Orion had wanted noticeable.

These things were so entwined with her memories of the house, that it took Andromeda a while to realize that what felt so off today was simply the silence. She slowed midway into the living-room, where the afternoon light barely filtered-in. She'd first thought it empty with the magical lights off and the empty couches (light gray, linen, new. Modernity, creeping here of all places).

Harry was seated on the ground, cross-legged, his brow knitted as he poked his wand against the large square cloth in his lap. The material was odd, a fabric that was possibly dirty-white or a mix of washed-out colors.

Andromeda crouched and ran her fingers on the flexible but rough fabric. Not not fabric.

"The spells act like there's nothing there," Harry muttered. "I found it in the bottom drawer of that wooden chest in the kitchen, the one that looks like it was stolen from a sixteenth century Scottish church."

"That," Andromeda said, her lips twitching despite herself, "Is kelpie skin."

"Ugh!" Harry scrambled to his feet, pushing it off him. "Tell me you didn't have tea on that thing."

"No, it was used to wrap artifact or conceal illegal tomes. You noticed it's invisible to detection spells."

Harry's sigh was full of resignation. Their poor Gryffindor Lord Black. "Oh I'm definitely starting to see how much cool stuff a dark family with dubious ethics can accumulate. It just looked so deceptively harmless."

His pleading eyes were too wide, his long-suffering look wholly exaggerated. He couldn't get enough of the family's secrets. Andromeda had stopped counting the times he'd propped down next to her with some obscure relative's diary or biography and announced "Meda, we need to talk about this, your great-whatever was messed up!"

Smiling now, Andromeda crossed her arms."You bought all those nice new couches; why do I always find you on the floor?"

With a black indoors cloak thrown over his muggle jeans and shirt, Harry looked quite the modern wizarding teenager. The cheeky smile did nothing to dispel the notion. "I killed Voldemort, I sit where I please."

"I see," she said with a schooled straight face. Harry was a peculiar boy, extraordinarily resilient and, these days, aggressively good-humored.

He'd shut himself away from crowds after the war, refusing even to attend the ceremony in which Minister Shacklebolt distributed Orders of Merlin to those who had fought. The next day, the Prophet's first page said "The-Boy-Who-Vanquished refuses to set foot in the Ministry until Sirius Black's name isn't cleared and the people involved in the Fudge-Umbridge administration's blunders not subjected to the same scrutiny as Death Eaters' actions."

And when Harry had come to stand before what remained of the Wizengamot, it had been to speak in favor of Narcissa and Severus Snape. And once more he'd asked why it was only Death Eaters who were being tried.

"Four people hit professor McGonagal with stunners at the end of my fifth year," Harry had said, his anger locked behind stubborn calm. "More than four were actually present that night. So when is that trial scheduled for?"

Kingsley's expression, the one that said "Harry's right, but politically inconvenient right now," had greatly increased Andromeda's fondness for the boy (and done nothing to alleviate her cynicism towards the Ministry).

But Harry had never liked the spotlight. He was tired of defending himself and wondering if he'd wake up a hero or hated. Fixing up Grimmauld Place had become his new crusade and he spent more time with her and Teddy than with the Weasley clan.

"You don't need anything from me, except that I do right by Teddy, obviously," he'd admitted on the day Andromeda had said he might as well leave some of his belongings in one of her house's empty rooms. "You're easy."

It was now the late October. Almost six months after Voldemort's downfall. Two weeks after Narcissa had moved in with Andromeda. Two weeks after Malfoy Manor had been ceded to Luna Lovegood and the Malfoy vaults turned over to Hogwarts, for the rebuilding, and for the finding and assisting of muggleborn and their families. One month after the start of a peculiar new school year that Minerva McGonagall had fought tooth and nail not to postpone.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna... they'd all returned to school. All but Harry, whose brooding worried Molly Weasley. Only, Andromeda didn't see this brooding Harry. She saw a young man who dived headfirst into new projects : the house, god-fatherhood, and now Narcissa's dementor crusade (Bellatrix's crusade, a last echo of their sister's brilliance, of what she could have been had she not been so consumed by darkness). Who, with his attitude, dared Andromeda to tell him 'Harry, stop pretending to be fine.'

But who was she to tell him that? She was pretending to be fine. Pretense didn't make her enjoy any less the time she spent with her grandson or her little sister. Pretense had helped her survive her childhood. It wasn't necessarily the healthiest solution, but it had its place.

Ted had never set foot in this house she lived in, and so pretense was easier. Still, she sometimes would turn, words at the tip of her lips, or just seeking to meet her husband's eyes. Always, shadows would greet her. It was a game of hide and seek, of cautiously circling her own grief, never quite facing it head on. Increasingly now, she dared think of her husband in the past tense. She loathed it, but she knew she would survive. It wasn't Ted's ghost she fled.

'Where do think you're going?'

'I'm an auror. I don't let kids fight a war alone.'

'You've just given birth ! You're staying here -"

'Teddy needs both his parents, I'm bringing Remus back.' That wide smile, easy, confident, insolent. 'Love you, Ma.'

The witch took a slow breath, focusing on the dark-haired boy before her, the one who needed her. "Do you know why you haven't returned to Hogwarts?"

She didn't ask why. She didn't say you should have gone. She wasn't convinced Harry had made a mistake.

The boy shrugged, his face suddenly blank.

"It gets easier to be in control of your own life, if you know why you feel and why you do things," Andromeda said gently. "It's not an innate skill."

Harry nodded with a soft sigh. Molly had told Andromeda he was defensive, but that was not what Andromeda saw (Molly to her credit, did her best to be tactful, but you could see it, how the woman struggled with the distance Harry kept between them).

"How did you to it, Meda? I imagine your parents didn't ask what you wanted all that often, or how you felt."

Perhaps that was why they could talk. Perhaps Molly and the rest of the Weasleys made it seem too easy. Love, family trust. Harry had yet to learn to say no when Molly told him what to do without feeling guilty or like a disappointment.

"Books," Andromeda admitted. "When Sirius and I were children, I could tell he was struggling. I... I didn't know how to talk to him. So I told him stories. Stories where it was okay to be angry when the world was unfair."

"You want to read to me?" Harry said, a faint smile in his voice. "I... What I do know is that this thing with Narcissa, the dementors, I want this to work. I... it's like Voldemort: it's a problem I can hope to hex away. It's not easy but it's simple. Hogwarts would be complicated."

Andromeda could understand why Harry couldn't do complicated right now.

"How about I do tell you a story." Andromeda decided. "But I'll need you to help me with the set up."

"Why, you story-tell with props?" Harry hid behind gentle insolence these days. There was anger in him, but anger that also battled guilt and apathy, that spurred him to live on.

"I need you to spend some of Uncle Alphard's drug money. We need a pensieve."

"Sure. Hold on, drug money?"

Andromeda smiled faintly. "Perhaps the first story will be the one behind the gold in the Black vault."

"But Sirius said Alphard was his favorite. The man was disowned!"

"It's complicated," Andromeda teased. She found it was easy with him, easier than with Dora. Dora had seen right through her and Andromeda had cared, perhaps more than was healthy, what her daughter had thought of her. With Harry, there was no past, no expectations, except the unsaid promise to be family. She could discuss the Blacks without discussing it too much. "Can you handle it?"

Harry lazily flicked his wand, transfiguring his robes a vibrant red and gold. He thumped his chest with his fist. "I can take it."

Andromeda's soft laughter echoed against the living-room's freshly painted white walls. "You have no idea what you're in for."


It was night-time in Hogsmeade. The two skulked behind the closed shops like thieves, clad in privacy wards. The teenager hid her nervousness well, but not well enough to betray that she wasn't fully comfortable with the setting. The man with her, with his ostentatious jewelry and tacky robes that could be nothing other than a provocation, didn't look the type a teenage girl would be happy to be alone with, especially at night.

"What got into you to summon me like this, girl? Got myself all shielded up for a setup, I did!" Temporary runes flickers on Alphard's robes, like fireflies in the night.

"Why did you think taking Sirius and Bella to see those camel-griffs last year was a good idea?"

"Young-uns need their minds broadened. Poor Sirius especially was a dire need of a laugh."

"What does it change? To be disowned?" Seventeen-year-old Andromeda stood stiff, her arms not quite crossed and her inquisitive gaze burning into her outrageous uncle.

"For me? More publicity." Alphard wagged his dyed eyebrows, elbows behind his head as if it was all a big joke. "And some women just love bad boys. Walburga's mad but she's been madder."

"I don't think so. You've forced her to choose between Uncle Orion and you."

"Wait, you think I had a chance to be chosen?" His loud mocking laughter had Andromeda wince and look around despite the charms. "Merlin's balls, I should have taken some Felix Felicis!"

"Did you do it on purpose, Uncle? Did you know it would happen?"

"They get younger and younger, don't they? Those Blacks who tell me I screwed up."

"I didn't say that," Andromeda whispered, but her younger self hadn't quite dared. She'd barely begun admitting to herself that she was desperately curious about what kind of life she could lead, freed from the weight of her noble and ancient name.

"People who don't answer your questions are so annoying..." Harry quipped, all too aware many people accused him of shutting them out these days.

"Can't stand them."

Harry grinned, his eyes never leaving Alphard and her memory-self.

"Well, this was nice," Alphard declared. "But I've got someplace fun to be. I'll -"

Andromeda's hand latched around the man's arm. "I'm coming with you. I'm of age."

"Pumpkin, you could be a hundred, I'm not being seen in public with you. For your own good, and mine."

Andromeda glared, unimpressed. She silently waved her wand, keeping it pointed at herself. Her appearance changed.

"Something wrong with Anne?" she said, a hint of challenge in her voice.

Anne was red-headed, lean and muscled. She was older than Andromeda, twenty-five at least.

"You should read Anne of Green Gables. The orphan gets her happy ending."

"Sounds brilliant."

'Anne' hadn't quite expected the whirlwind Alphard brought her to. It wasn't a large event. Only twenty people, in a house, and soon she realized people figured she was her uncle's mistress (no, not mistress, that was too official, too long-term).

Hallucinatory powders began being shared. They reduced the barrier between consciousness and accidental magic, favoring partial self-transfiguration. Andromeda, dazed, found herself seated next to a man whose arm had become a swan's wing. Conversations became animated as a kind of trance began to grip the participants.

Andromeda, curious, breathed in one of the powders that just seemed to affect the senses. Scents became colors, blurring the room. Faces twisted beyond recognition as people spoke.

"How did you not run away," Harry whispered wide-eyed, backing away instinctively as everything around them became impossible. His faded briefly, as if subconsciously pulling out of the pensieve.

"It was odd but I don't recall feeling alarmed. Only curious." Now, she realized how young she had been, how badly things could have gone. Then, she'd felt adult, of course she had.

Before her, on a soft velvet couch, the woman with the finned hands and flowing hair was half naked and smiling languidly as she removed more of her clothes.

Alphard grabbed Andromeda by the shoulders. "I'll take you out," he slurred, his fingers tight around her waist.

"Why? No I-"

"Don't. If you insist I'll let you stay, then you'll hate me. It's not the kind of fun you want to stumble into. You had enough for a first night."

He apparated at the edge of Diagon Alley. Closed shops silently stared down at her. She shivered in the night, fascinated by the songs that came from every magical light.

"I don't know how to apparate," she muttered. But Alphard was long gone. She sighed and dispelled her glamour. "Bean?"

The old house elf popped into the near deserted alley. Her outline was a silver blur and her magic tasted of wildflowers.

"Bean is surprised. Young Mistress Meda getting in trouble all alone? Bean expecting Bella."

"No trouble. I'm broadening my horizons. Besides, I've never had detention. I'm curious to see what they're like. Please take me to Hogwarts."

Harry snorted. "You're so full of it." He cleared his throat. "I mean, I'm impressed at your ability to tell straight-faced lies."

Andromeda pulled them out of the pensieve. 'Bean expecting Bella'. How... not loaded Bellatrix's name had been then.

"First one-on-one moment with my Uncle," she summed up as Harry rubbed his eyes. "And that was him in a responsible light. I introduced him to Ted once. You should have seen what he tried to make us do when I wasn't his to supervise anymore."

"Did Sirius do drugs?"

"No, he didn't care to find out how he'd act without inhibitions. Your godfather did have some wisdom."

That earned her a light shove. Harry was awfully protective of Sirius.

"Well," Harry said after a while, shoulders tight the memory sunk in. "You've totally ruined my fantasy of Sirius' cool Uncle. So... all that money Sirius gave me, it's really drugs?"

"My dear Harry, what do you think the story behind Orion's inherited money is? I can tell you that that kelpie skin you found wasn't bought."

A shadow fell on Harry's face. "Right. The house elf skulls should have clued me in about the fact you lot were a bunch of magical creatures poachers. Ugh. I'm going to have to spend it all on something disgustingly good, aren't I? What does Saint Mungo's need these days?"


January 1999

Harry returned from Hogsmeade wearing a wistful smile, as if he was equally thrilled and disappointed to have seen his friends. Andromeda met his gaze expectantly. Usually the boy vanished after having spent time with others, and he knew better than to show up uninvited past midnight.

"And why are you not sleeping?" he cooed at Teddy who was chewing at his socks on the kitchen table.

The baby smiled, his eyes hidden behind a mop of brick-red curls and his mouth still full of foot.

"Cissy and I got distracted this afternoon, we let him nap too long."

"Aw, chew away then, you poor neglected thing."

Andromeda's low-power stinging hex dissolved against a shield. Harry side-eyed her fondly, as if to say 'have you forgotten who it is that you're trying to hex?'

Harry removed his winter cloak and sat down next to her with a sigh."It's too much the same and too different. Ron and Hermione are dating. Snape's gone. Minerva's not teaching. Too many people are missing. Seamus' scar is worse than Bill's, and Padma..." Harry pursed his lips. "They all still stare. That's one of the things that's the same, I guess. It's weird... They all have these scars and I lost my scar... Hermione thinks I have survivor's guilt, and maybe I do, a little, but she doesn't get that it's the staring." He shook his head, his eyes brimming with anger. "They're all very eager to tell me what I should be doing now that Voldemort is dead."

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, not them," he said more softly. "Not Neville, Ginny or Luna either. I'm not annoyed at them. You must have noticed I don't read the Prophet."

Oh, she had. "Do you think you should?"

"Everyone seems to think I should, even Hermione..." He shrugged, and it seemed he'd finally gotten what he wanted off his chest. "I convinced Arthur to give me back Sirius' motorbike. I dropped it at the house before going to Hogsmeade. I'm going to give repairing it a shot. Do you know the story behind that bike?"

She knew what he was asking. It had become a ritual, the pensieve memories.

"I know parts of it. Will you be seeing the Weasleys soon?" They always extended an invitation when they saw Harry.

"Dinner on Wednesday. Fred and Percy will be there." He suddenly seemed smaller, his shoulders slumping. "Arthur wanted to fix the bike with me. He was hurt. He didn't say anything, but... That's why I waited so long to get the bike back... I'm angry at them. Him and Molly."

"Do you know why you're angry?"

"Some, but not quite. They're giving me space, I love them for that. They know I love them. I don't want to be angry at them but it's not going away." He shook his head, his green eyes far away. "You make me ask questions, Meda. It was a rule 'no questions.' So many things could have gone differently if I'd thought to ask. To question."

It had become clear to Andromeda that Harry's curiosity, and worse, his critical thinking, had been deliberately stunted in childhood. Seven years at Hogwarts had undone some of the damage but not all, not nearly. But Andromeda wasn't worried. They had time.


"What the hell?" Ted exclaimed.

"That's what the salesman said when I handed him a wad of cash." Sirius' apologetic shrug failed to erase his smug grin. "Lils said he must've thought it was crime money. How was I supposed to known honest muggles don't carry around fat wads of cash?"

The black motorcycle was seven foot long, its gleaming silver engine under the leather seat. Blinded by the large front headlight, Ted glowered at Sirius who turned the light off with a flick of his wand, his grin growing wider with every second.

"Marauder-grade enchantments, no Finite will cripple my bike, man. I must go charm some journalist chick into writing an article about it, just so Mother can see it. She might choke, you know?"

"What the hell!" Three years old Nymphadora piped up from next to her father. She met Andromeda's warning look with a defiant one of her own."Hell!" Nymphadora's grin fell when the toddler realized she was now trapped in a silence field.

"Sirius, why is this in our garden?" Twenty-five years old Andromeda said while Nymphadora began to soundlessly scream in protest at being shut out.

Eyes bright, Andromeda couldn't take her eyes off her daughter. Finding the right balance between discipline and nurturing when Dora had been small had driven her mad.

"I want to surprise Charlus and Dorea when I'm done."

Ted sighed, shaking his head as he went to pick up his (now rolling on the ground) daughter. He looked more amused than annoyed.

"And the truth, Cousin?"

Nineteen years old Sirius blinked at Andromeda, caught off guard.

Harry laughed, a fierce intensity in his green eyes as he stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder to his not-quite-solid godfather. "Right, you got him."

Sirius finally sighed. "Alastor Moody's an obsessed bastard. You should hear him." Sirius dramatically took a professorial pose. "Placement!" he bellowed. "Coordination! It doesn't matter if the enemy is throwing an unforgivable if the curse misses you, pups! You're going to use displacements and illusions until I can't hit you!" Sirius became a blur as he displaced himself behind Andromeda. "Enough! Now get in groups of threes and duel me! Thirty years in the field haven't made me faster than three people who can take cues from each other!"

Andromeda's eyes glinted with amusement. "How badly did he wipe the floor with you?"

"You could have transfigured me into a puddle when he was through with us, and not seen the difference..." Sirius grumbled. "Which is my point : a flying motorbike that can cast a few spells when you press the right pedals? That's like having a partner."

"Charlus and Dorea have no problem with you training under Moody but they'd have a problem with that?"

Sirius' shoulders slumped at Andromeda's inquisitive tone. "I think they've convinced themselves we just want to learn to defend ourselves..." He pulled a fossil-like burnt looking stone out of his robes. "Take a look."

Andromeda cautiously picked up the stone. It was as big at her fist but almost too heavy to be carried with one hand.

"Touch it," Andromeda told Harry. "You should be able to feel what I remember feeling.."

The stone was so hot it almost burned. Harry's eyes widened. It pulsed with entrapped magic.

"I rune that up, and I get dragon-fire, right? Or as close as I'll get."

Andromeda shot a look at her daughter. Nymphadora wasn't deaf to their talk anymore, but Ted was distracting her. "You could kill someone with that kind of fire."

"Meda, let's be real. I'm going to kill people. Even if I don't specifically set out to do it, it's going to happen. This is war." Sirius' jaw was grimly set. "The Potters... they need a bit more time to make peace with it. They're good people."

"How many?" Harry whispered. "Do you know?"

"More than five, less than fifteen. I never asked." Andromeda's eyes narrowed, a familiar anger resurfacing. 'I'm sorry, Mrs. Tonks, but he's guilty.' 'No, nobody can visit him.' "There's no right answer, but what I can tell you is that without Sirius, without Snape, without those people who did things the Order found distasteful, victory might not have been ours."

"It's okay. I mean, it's okay that he had dark sides. I just want to know him better."

Andromeda let her hand rest on Harry's shoulder. "I know."


April 1999

Female laughter filtered through the shed where Harry was working on Sirius' motorbike. Narcissa and Andromeda shared a look.

"He brings girls to your house without a warning now?"

Andromeda's lips twitched. Trust Harry to slip Ginny into one of the most intimate facets of their lives without fanfare after almost a year of not so much as a single invite to dinner.

"Look at you, spell-crafter," Ginny exclaimed from the inside. "Hermione's worried you're falling behind, silly her."

The girl's red hair was pulled in a tight ponytail as she sweated in a sleeveless dress next to the furnace that was the shed. Her freckles shone orange as a sea of flames shot out of the bike's exhaust, contained by carefully raised wards.

"Can you deactivate that rune? This combination should be less aggressive." The holly wand was a fluid extension of Harry's arm. Which was an extension of Harry's very naked glistening chest.

Andromeda bit back an indulgent smile. That smooth-talker had no doubt claimed cooling charms to interfering with the enchantments he was putting on the bike.

She knocked once before pushing the shed's ajar wooden door open.

"Oh hi, Andromeda." Ginny's expression grew noticeably cooler when she turned to Narcissa.

"Ginny," Harry whispered, suddenly tense.

"Unlike you, Harry, I grew up spoiled," Ginny replied, all laughter gone. "Loved. I haven't had to learn to forgive being treated like shit without even first getting a true apology."

"This is about the diary," Narcissa said after a pause.

"Oh good, I was afraid you'd forgotten. Everybody was so quick to convince themselves I was fine, that it needn't ever be mentioned again."

Cissy had long ago mastered the gift of looking supremely unconcerned, especially when caught off guard. Andromeda watched her consciously shed her Lady Malfoy mask as she bowed her head to this young woman that, no doubt, would have been dismissed with a frosty remark even one year before.

"The diary had grown restless," Narcissa said tightly. "It compelled Lucius to write in it. It wanted Lucius to go to Hogwarts, then it realized Draco would be a better host. I think it could feel the Dark Lord was weakened, and perhaps wanted to find the other Horcrux, but I cannot be sure. It never told Lucius. Giving it to you, who were going to Hogwarts, satisfied the compulsion."

The story was news to Andromeda. The Chamber of Secrets incident at Hogwarts had honestly slipped her mind and Lucius' name hadn't appeared anywhere in the articles mentioning the horcrux-diary. The others in the know must have chosen to stay silent to protect the Malfoys. No wonder Ginevra was still angry. But the articles, and Harry himself, had been quite clear about the horcruxes' dark aura. Lucius being bullied by one was something Andromeda had no reason not to believe.

"Okay," Ginny allowed after a pause. "That does make more sense than randomly trying to ruin my life, and risking Riddle's wrath by just... handing some kid the Dark Lord's super important diary. Did Mr. Malfoy come clean to you before or after I'd been in the Chamber?"

"After. I kicked Lucius out of our bedroom twice in our marriage : when he came home with the Dark Mark and when I found out he'd been lying to me for a year and almost got a child killed."

Harry stared in shock, but Ginny accepted it without batting an eyelid. "Why did he lie to you?"

Narcissa smiled mirthlessly. "If he'd told me in September what he'd done instead of acting innocent when Draco wrote home about the Chamber of Secrets, I could have done something. The Dark Lord would have later found out." Her lips thinned. "Lucius sought to protect me." Her tight expression eased into something softer, more maternal. "I am sorry. No child deserved to live through that. I do wish you had gotten the support you needed."

Ginny looked down. "Mum and Dad did their best. My brothers were kids, it's silly to be angry at them... You lied to Riddle's face about Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts. That matters." She smiled. It was stiff but not hostile this time. "I just... I just needed to hear that you agreed it was awful." With a shuddering breath, the redhead turned to Harry. "See, confrontations, not the end of the world." She grinned. "So Harry was showing me this exhaust pipe that keeps vomiting dragon-like fire. That wasn't just Sirius being a show-off, was it? It sounds like an actual war weapon."

"It was," Andromeda agreed. "That's why I've been encouraging Harry to not be too faithful to the original model."

"Do you want my help or should I get drinks?" Narcissa interjected. To anybody but her sister, she'd seem perfectly relaxed, but that very perfection betrayed the fact Cissy was acutely aware of the lingering tension.

"Oh stay! I'm not missing an occasion to talk to the women Harry spends all his free time with." Hand on hips, Ginny eyed the older witch, brazenly. "I could get self-conscious, especially with your husband across the sea."

Harry flushed. He flushed deeper when Narcissa smirked. "I find you're navigating this relationship of yours rather expertly, Miss Weasley."

"I'm not sure what Harry and I are, to be honest. We're something. We're sort of together." Ginny turned to her... sort-of. "But it's okay, right?"

"It's okay," Harry agreed in a soft voice, a smile digging into his still flushed cheeks. "You've got all this figured out better than I have."

"It's all these guys I dated for practice. I got tired of face-planting in front of you."

Narcissa was definitely eyeing Ginny with approval now. "Don't let him shame you for that, I slept with half of Hogwarts before Lucius and I got together, and he knew better than to say a word."

Andromeda almost choked on her own tongue. She knew Cissy could be provocative, but she hadn't expected her sister to strike back so pitilessly at a teenager.

"You did not," Harry declared, looking suddenly, hilariously, alarmed.

"Not quite. But I wish half of Hogwarts had been interesting enough to sleep with."

Andromeda couldn't contain her laughter anymore. Harry's face. Ginny crossed her arms with huff and had to admit defeat. "You should get those drinks now, Mrs. Malfoy. I need to rennervate the Boy-who-Vanquished."

Harry blinked dumbly as Narcissa glided out of the room. He slowly turned back to Ginny.

"Sorry, I just... How could you imply that I, that Narcissa -"

"To see how she'd react. I'm not too worried about you two spending hours and hours together anymore."

"You really were worried-" Harry shut his mouth when he caught the twinkle in Ginny's eye.

"Harry, I just wanted to make sure there's no competition." The girl grew more serious. "I don't mean physically, I mean... that she doesn't mind you seeing me, liking me. It's not obvious that I'd be good enough for Lady Malfoy."

"It's none of her-."

"Hey, Mum and I gave Fleur a hard time even if she'd done nothing wrong. You two are growing close, it's human of her to have opinions."

Harry frowned, as if the thought hadn't quite occurred to him. Poor Ginny would need all the emotional intelligence growing up with seven brothers had granted her to build something with this young man. But the redhead's secret seemed to reside in the unwavering confidence that she and Harry were meant to be. A more insecure teenager would have no doubt found Harry's conflicting desire for closeness and independence utterly maddening, and taken his refusal to return to Hogwarts very personally.

"It's different." Harry decided after a few seconds, but it was almost a question. "I'm not her son."

Ginny leaned into him, nuzzling his neck. "I'm glad. I hear the guy's a prick."

Harry wrapped his arm around her, chuckling.

"Are you two expecting to get any work done? Perhaps some clothes might help you focus."

It was really all too easy to make that poor boy blush. Harry harrumphed good-naturedly. "Yes, Meda." He conjured a plain white shirt and yanked it on, pointedly ignoring Ginny's mournful sigh. "You and Narcissa can explain the dragon-fire enchantment to Ginny better than I. She studied runes, she'll get the theory. By the way, Gin, you can tell Hermione I've decided to sit my runes OWL at the end of next year. She'll think to surprise me with some good study material for my birthday."

"Surprise you, huh? You sneaky fiend. Careful, those Black ladies are slytherining you." Ginny grinned as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "No it's cool. Hermione's going to be excited."

"Everybody rennervated?" Narcissa called before coming back in.

"The boy even put a shirt on."

"Oh good, it was a distraction. Especially with my husband across the sea."

"Yeah, I'm going to pay for having said that," Ginny predicted, gratefully taking her drink from the platter floating in front of Narcissa.

"Can you please not do this while I'm around?" Harry pleaded.

"Quite," Andromeda intervened. Harry looked genuinely uncomfortable. "Let's talk about runes."


June 1999 – a year after the end of the second Wizarding War

"I just can't believe it! I never thought I'd struggle like this to get a job!" Lily was saying. "You must know people who can organize. There must be a way we can have a voice instead of letting others speak for us!"

Seated across Lily, Ted rubbed his temples with his hands. "You have to be a masochist to try elbow your way to power when you're muggleborn. And those who succeeded, like Nobby Leach, were still surrounded by purebloods of influential families."

"Leach was cursed, he died two years after he had to resign."

Lily turned to Andromeda with a depressed glare. "Shatter all my illusions, must you? But I don't get it. So we're locked out of the cool influential jobs, fine, but where's the network of adult muggleborn? Why don't they go with Minerva to speak to the eleven-year-olds? Why are we stuck being orphans in the wizarding world instead of having a muggleborn 'godparent' that can answer our questions? The Ministry can't stop muggleborn kids from getting letters!"

"I can put you in contact with people," Ted said, smiling slightly at the young woman's enthusiasm.

Lily smiled back, lowering her voice apologetically. "Thank you. That's all I ask."

"Oi, Lils! Lils!"

Sirius was holding a squealing Nymphadora upside down by the ankles. Andromeda frowned. Her daughter's body was a... goose's?

"Check this out! I tried to transfigure her into a whole goose, and it worked for like three seconds, and then her head changed back! It's like being a metamorph is a counter-spell. Maybe if we practice, she'll be able to do animals too." He tickled Nymphadora."You won't just be some boring old animagus, cousin, you'll be the whole zoo!"

The memory-spell suddenly blurred. Andromeda realized Harry was gone. She frowned, wondering what could have disturbed him so. As she pulled her head out of the pensieve, she found him leaning against the wall cross-armed. He looked almost furious, his eyes far away.

"Why weren't you at Hogwarts?" he said. "You could have left Teddy with Julia Lupin."

Julia. Andromeda would have to invite Remus' mother over soon, it had been almost two weeks.

"Meda? Why weren't you? You're twice the witch most aurors are."

Sudden fury clenched Andromeda's jaw. She bit back the "How dare you!" burning in her chest only because Harry's grim gaze told her it was the answer he was expecting.

'You've just given birth ! You're staying here -"

'Teddy needs both his parents, I'm bringing Remus back. Love you, Ma.'

'Fine, I'm coming with you.'

Dora's smile hardened, guilt darkening her eyes. For once she looked like herself, with her short dark brown curls, her father's small nose and those full lips that reminded Andromeda of Bella, a young Bella, as much as of herself.

Andromeda failed to react quickly enough when her wand shot out of her robes and into her daughter's hand.

'We'll make it, but I can't take the chance. I'm sorry.'

"She didn't let me," Andromeda said hollowly.

"What?"

Nymphadora Tonks vanished, leaving her mother's wand behind, trapped in a shimmering sphere of magic.

"Nymphadora locked my wand in a ward. I knew the exact second she died."

Dissolved, swished away like a spider web, leaving the wand to clatter loudly against the floor. Andromeda had screamed.

Andromeda stared unseeingly in front of her. "Had I been a Black, I could have called Kreacher."

Harry flinched. "We should never have waited so long to make you part of the family again. I'm so sorry."

Eyes burning, Andromeda said nothing. There was nothing to say. She waited for Harry to talk, to speak of the reason he'd felt the need to wake her ghosts.

"I can't stop thinking that I didn't do anything," he finally whispered. "With Snape, I mean. I didn't even try. I... Do you ever think about the Resurrection Stone?"

"That way lies madness."

Harry's chuckles were bitter. "Wise words, I guess. But aren't you tempted?"

"Harry, I am a dark witch. Without strong boundaries I'd... well, perhaps saying I'd end up like Bella would be a touch dramatic."

"But don't you want answers?"

"Assuming the stone doesn't just summon pale imitations of the dead, assuming it tells us the truth and not just what we want to hear..." What did they know about death and what lay beyond? Why should she believe there existed a stone that defied all known limitations of magic? "Can be anything be truly answered in one conversation? Two? How much time with your parents do think you'll need, until you're comfortable returning to Godric's Hollow?"

"There are no Potters left," Harry snapped, suddenly defensive. "None close enough to matter. No one's going to care if I take ten years to fix up Godric's Hollow." He shook his head. "It's something Hermione said. She said everybody was all over the place in fifth year, with Umbridge and the Prophet's lies, but with the DA, we got them to focus, to reveal the best in them. It wasn't just spells, it was... purpose. She says we need to do this again. That I'm wasting the opportunity to use my name and fame to get the Ministry to reform rather than just rebuild."

Ah, and now he suspected his own mother would agree with his best friend. "You agree with Hermione?"

"Why do they need me? " Harry whispered. "What am I supposed to do, say 'uh, guys, I want to see some muggleborn in high places now?' I can't change a country."

A sudden pop! interrupted them. Kreacher grabbed Harry's trousers, looking frantic.

"It's Master Reggie!"

What? Andromeda belatedly realized the elf's awful grimace was in fact a big grin.

"Master Reggie being here!"

Harry straightened, suspicion darkening his features. "Here. In the house?"

"Yes, little Mistress called!"

Harry muttered a couple of shield spells and strode out of the room, his knuckles white around his wand.

"Nobody who isn't blood can call Kreacher," Andromeda whispered, with a firm tug on Harry's arm. She couldn't blame him for being suspicious, but 'Little Mistress' could only mean a child.

"Dobby was proof house elves are freer than wizards think. They can be fooled." He waved his wand the second they spotted figures in the living room. "Accio wands!"

A man with a crippled arm and a little girl in a colorful foreign dress turned to stare at them.

The man smiled warily. "I've been a squib for eighteen years, Harry Potter. Lyra is a little young for a wand." He caressed his daughter's head. The girl's eyes were narrowed on Harry's wand. "I raised her muggle until now, everything's new and exciting." His head bow at Harry was slightly awkward, as if he'd forgotten how to greet people the pureblood way. "You can call me Reggie."

Andromeda stared, feeling like she'd stepped into a peculiar dream. Last time she'd seen Regulus, he'd been a delicate-looking, pale nine year old. This man was thirty-five, muscled with skin sun-weathered. He wasn't handsome, not like Sirius had been, but the resemblance was obvious. There was a lack of suspicion in his expression, a softness, that had her instinctively relax. The child by his side was dark of hair and skin. She was staring at everything with the contained restlessness of a curious six-year-old who nevertheless had a basic grasp of manners.

"Welcome home, Cousin," Andromeda said faintly, because what else could she say?

With an apologetic smile, Regulus waved his stump. "You did this, Meda. Cutting of the mark, binding my magic, faking my suicide for the Dark Lord. You and Edward obliviated each other, and Kreacher." His smiled faded as he took a step towards her. "I'm sorry about your husband. I remember thinking that day, when I saw the two of you together, with you standing tall and him shaking my hand, that I finally understood why losing your name had been worth it for you. Bella had become the worst of herself, Cissy was nervous and unhappy, but you-. The both of you saved my life. I'm sorry I couldn't tell Ted that."

"What was the name of the muggle, the one with the dogs?" she said thickly as she took an instinctive step back. Because this couldn't be. How could this be? To think about Ted. Ted who had met Reggie. All these years she'd thought-

Regulus dropped his gaze, frowning thoughtfully. "Mr. Allen, wasn't it?" He said after a moment. He smiled faintly. "I remember you gifting Narcissa and Bellatrix that book by Vernes, Twenty Leagues Under the Sea, to get them interested in machines and enchanting your own. I actually read it a few years ago. Fascinating novel."

Andromeda found herself mirroring his smile, now guilty she had chosen to bring up Allen. Regulus was right : they had shared a thousand lighter moments. "Sirius enjoyed that read more than my sisters. He loved machines and devoured Vernes' whole collection during the summer after his sixth year. I've been showing Harry some of those memories, we have pensieve."

"Good," Regulus exclaimed. "I doubt I can use still a pensieve, but my there's no reason you can't take my memories. I can't occlude, but I should be able to clear my mind enough to focus on the specifics. Legilimens should also work."

He had a light accent. It reminded Andromeda of those Bollywood movies Dora had loved for the songs and the convoluted romantic drama. Andromeda just nodded, aware her lack of reaction made things even more awkward. In times of stress, she'd always retreated inwards, becoming an observer. 'This is Regulus. He's alive. Ted and I saved him', echoed in her mind but didn't quite seem to sink in.

"You could try ordering Kreacher to remember, Mr. Potter. It was October 16. 1979."

"'Harry' is fine," Harry muttered, his earlier suspicions replaced by sheer bewilderment. He turned to the elf. "Right, remember, that's an order."

Nobody dared blink.

"Can't," Kreacher hissed after a few tense seconds, tearing at his long ears. "Can't remember!"

"Worth trying," Regulus said with a minute shrug."Let's make this pensieve work so you can watch too Kreacher."

A house elf, using a pensieve. Preposterous, a voice that sound all too much like Andromeda's late mother whispered. Kreacher looked up at Regulus adoringly.

Regulus lifted him up with one arm and eased him on his shoulders, as if Kreacher was a toddler. Andromeda saw the kid again then, her little cousin, always attached to that elf, always smiling, those shy smiles that begged you to smile back. As a teenager, Andromeda had shied away, not knowing what to do with this needy child who acted like their family was normal and perfect.

This time she smiled, her eyes bright. Her throat constricted. It was too much.

Lyra said something. It wasn't English. Sometime during their conversation the child had moved to explore the room, examining the pillows and scattered decorations. Now she was staring back at Andromeda in concern.

"True," Regulus agreed. "You think I should give Andromeda a hug?"

Lyra nodded, her own smile easy and confident. "You've got a constellation name," she said in accented English. "Mine is too."

"They're the best names," Andromeda agreed. She clasped Regulus' hand with both of hers. The decades with Edward had mellowed her but not quite turned her into a hugger. And Regulus was not Cissy. Still, her eyes crinkled as she released him. "Such an odd Black you made, hugging everybody even as a child."

"Retrospectively, I was so desperate to please." Regulus shook his head, as if scolding his younger self. "I couldn't understand why what worked with Mother didn't work with Sirius. I wish..." He turned to Harry. "He had this sense of justice, your godfather. I didn't care who I'd have to make myself into as long as it got me love and respect, Sirius... he refused all of our parents' attempts to change him. We spent years deaf to each other... I wish he was here. I wish we could finally talk."

"It's not fair you felt you had to become a Death Eater to get respect." And Harry meant it. It never failed to surprise Andromeda how Harry could both struggle to trust and yet so easily forgive.

"I failed to see the choices I had. I've made peace with that, but putting all the responsibility on my upbringing wouldn't be right." Regulus gestured at the empty wall with a frown. "Did you exile our ancestors' portraits to the attic?"

"Mistress destroyed them," Kreacher said, rubbing his arms in distress.

"Not me," Andromeda exclaimed when her cousin raised twin eyebrows. "Your mother. I've come to understand she wasn't quite herself during her last years. And you don't want to see her portrait. It's... It's how Sirius would have described her on a day he felt particularly vicious."

Regulus winced. "A vociferating incarnation of pureblood prejudice?"

Harry laughed. He finally put away the wand he'd kept loosely by his side. "Spot on. Want to see it?"

For the first time, Regulus looked nervous. "The worst of Mother? No... I... maybe some other time."

It was the veil of grief that made it sink in. This was Reggie. Truly Reggie. Of course he'd mourn Walburga. Andromeda took a slow breath, feeling suddenly warm and giddy. Her baby cousin, the one who had never seemed to challenge the prejudices they were raised him, had survived. He'd somehow found serenity living as a muggle.

She had to go find Cissy.


And they're all back together ! I'm having fun weaving Harry into the Black family. I figured hanging out with Andromeda as a way to recuperate from the war and figure things out is the kind of thing he'd do. The first draft was way more angsty, but canon Harry is rather resilient (and avoidant) so this is how things ended up. What did you think?