Andromeda did not expect Alice's invitation to tea to be such bring such tense news, nor did she expect the special guest that sat at the kitchen table with Frank and Alice Longbottom.

"Good morning, Andromeda," said a smiling wizard with long white hair and beard. "I trust you've had breakfast already?"

"But of course," Andromeda answered coolly, looking from Albus Dumbledore to Alice for some kind of explanation. "I couldn't allow the children to go hungry."

"Quite right," Dumbledore agreed with a nod.

"You'll need to sit down," Alice told Andromeda with a sigh. "We have something to discuss."

"Have a seat, Andromeda," Frank said, waving a hand to pull out a chair for her. "We didn't mean to shock you, but Alice thought you wouldn't show up if we said Albus would be here."

Andromeda did not move, looking around at all of them as she held her four-month-old son closer. "Did something happen to Arthur? And why aren't you at the Ministry?" she directed at her friend's husband. "I'm not joining the Order, so don't ask."

Alice sighed, her arms wrapped around her large stomach. "Andromeda, everything's fine," she said. "There's just been...a prophecy."

"A what?" Andromeda said with a laugh of disbelief, unable to hold it back.

"A prophecy," Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully. "And we believe it has something to do with Frank and Alice's little one."

"I seem to remember you saying that Divination is an unrefined, unspecific, and unreliable art, Headmaster," Andromeda smirked. "Have you changed your mind since I was at school?"

"Oh, no," Dumbledore smiled as Alice moved to get Andromeda a teacup and Andromeda stopped her from getting up with a look. "It so happens that I witnessed the prophecy myself, and that while many so-called prophecies are simply made up, this one seemed to be different. The Seer herself could not recall what she had said afterward."

Andromeda moved closer and took a seat, declining tea and instead taking a glass of water. "So what does the prophecy supposedly say about their child?" she asked.

Alice bit her lip nervously and looked at her husband, who looked at Dumbledore. The old man smiled infuriatingly. "The children of this prophecy are said to have the power to defeat the Dark Lord."

"Children?" Andromeda raised an eyebrow at the plural. "Surely you do not plan to steal their future children as well."

"Andromeda," Alice said in concern, "for my sake, please listen. It's far more serious than that."

"Then let's hear the truth," Andromeda replied firmly.

Frank Longbottom did not seem thrilled about the situation, but Alice took a deep breath and began, "The prophecy says that a child born at the end of July will have the powers to defeat the Dark Lord, and it could refer to our son, or James and Lily's son."

"Surely there are more than two children to be born at the end of July?" Andromeda said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would it be specifically your children?"

Both of the Longbottoms looked to Dumbledore for the answer, and the old wizard said, almost proudly, "The prophecy says the child would be born to parents who have defied He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named three times, and it would seem that the Potters and the Longbottoms fit the prophecy."

"What exactly does the prophecy say?" Andromeda asked, frowning at Dumbledore.

"The exact words escape me," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "but you have heard the jist of it."

"Why do I need to know any of this?" the witch said as her son let out a cry of hunger. She placed a Sleeping Charm on him without hesitation and continued to look around at the three. "I'm not in the Order, and I won't have any part in your "greater good" shenanigans—"

"Because we're going into hiding," Frank cut her off. "And Alice thought since you've been a decent friend to her, that you would be the Secret Keeper. Personally, I believe it to be a very bad idea."

Andromeda's lips parted as she stared at her friend, trying to understand what Frank had just said. Finally, Andromeda spoke. "I can't do that."

Frank made a sound as if he had already known she would refuse, but Alice looked at Andromeda carefully. "Why not?"

Andromeda tried to order her thoughts in such a way that she wouldn't openly insult her friend. "Bellatrix is aware of our friendship," she said, doing her best to imply the danger this presented. "If the Dark Lord learns of this prophecy and realises that you seem to be the one whose child it means, Bellatrix would suggest me as a possible Secret Keeper, I have no doubt. And if she were ordered to my home to torture the information from me, I could not stand against her."

Alice looked slightly worried, but said, "So no?"

"Dumbledore, why aren't you offering to be the Secret Keeper?" Andromeda asked him coldly. "Don't want to take responsibility for the people you've put in danger?"

"I had already offered, but each said that they had a Secret Keeper in mind," answered Dumbledore.

"I've got six children at home, Alice," Andromeda said earnestly, turning to the younger witch. "I cannot risk a Death Eater, or—Merlin forbid—the Dark Lord himself, showing up at my home."

"It's better if she isn't the one," Frank said to his wife. "She's not the kind of person that would die before betraying a friend."

Andromeda gave him a look of disdain, practised from years of being in the House of Black. "I think you mean to say I'm not the Gryffindor sort, who acts without thinking and tries to be a hero. I don't want you dead, or I'd say yes and go straight to Bellatrix with your location. No, I rather think it's the smart thing to do to have Dumbledore hide you, as everyone seems to think the Dark Lord is afraid of him, or to pick someone that no one would suspect, or to be the Secret Keeper yourself."

Alice's mouth fell open in horror at Andromeda's words, and Frank looked outraged at what he had just heard. "Don't bother seeing me out," Andromeda said, getting to her feet and cradling her son in her arms. "Good luck, Alice, and I hope you have a lovely baby boy."

"Andromeda," Alice breathed, but the woman continued toward the front door. Alice got to her feet with difficulty and hurried after her, grabbing her by the arm just before Andromeda was about to walk out of the house. "I guess I shouldn't have asked, but I just—I thought—I don't know what I was thinking."

"Friends do these things for each other," Andromeda said, trying to calm herself, "but I know I couldn't keep you and your family safe, Alice. I wouldn't want to be the reason that your family was harmed or destroyed."

Alice was tearing up, and reached out, hugging her friend, who stiffened, then sighed and patted her on the back. "It's just so sudden," she whispered. "We just learned about it, and I was hoping you could still come and see us, but you won't, will you?"

Andromeda sighed. "You'd be in danger if I knew where you were," she said. "And if I knew who the Secret Keeper was. The Dark Lord is more powerful than the Aurors, Alice, and his Death Eaters can overwhelm them fairly easily. I don't want that responsibility on me. Surely you understand?"

"Yes," Alice sniffed. "But you won't be able to see the baby when he arrives."

"Then I'll see him later," Andromeda told the young witch. "The important thing is that you and your family are safe."

"I shouldn't have suggested it," Alice whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Andromeda told her. "I understand, but I've got to get back home before Sirius lets the boys destroy the house."

Alice released her friend and Andromeda left quickly, disapparating home and entering the living room to find Sirius laughing with Will, Charlie, and the twins about something. Sirius looked up at her, and became solemn. "They told you?" he said.

Andromeda sank down on the couch, looking at her sleeping baby. "Alice wanted me to be Secret Keeper," she mumbled.

"Surely you said no?" Sirius said in concern.

"Of course I said no," Andromeda sighed. "It would be more dangerous for everyone if I said yes."

"I was going to be Secret Keeper for James and Lily," Sirius said, refusing to be distracted by the twins pulling at his arms. "But we decided it would be better for somebody that wasn't so obvious."

"That's what I thought," Andromeda agreed, "but I think I upset all of them—they should have warned me Dumbledore would be there for 'tea.'" She rolled her eyes and Summoned a blanket so she could wake up her son and feed him modestly.

Sirius laughed, ruffling one of the twins' hair and telling him to wait for a moment. "What did you say to them, Dromeda?"

Andromeda glanced down at Tommy, shushing him gently before beginning to feed him. "Well, I don't want to risk my own family's safety, do I?" she said. "And Bellatrix could get any kind of information out of me, so trying to hide someone from her Dark Lord is not the best decision." She smirked and crossed her ankles, leaning back into the couch slightly. "I told them they were much safer if I didn't know their whereabouts."

Sirius smirked, then said with a troubled expression, "They are all in danger, Dromeda. We could get news of their deaths at any moment."

"That's dark, Sirius," Andromeda said reproachfully. "Surely you have more faith than that in magic?"

"Well, Dumbledore isn't exactly the fastest at protecting people sometimes," Sirius muttered. "I really pushed him to get James and Lily secured—James didn't want to go into hiding."

"Of course not," Andromeda smirked, thinking of the young man being trapped inside his home. "You wouldn't want to, either."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I don't have anyone to protect," he said. "James has a wife and a kid on the way. I'd rather fight than hide."

"But those who love you would disagree," Andromeda smiled. "I'm sure he'll see the importance, even if he complains about it all the time."

"Maybe he will," Sirius said, shaking his head. "I hope he'll be happier once his kid arrives and distracts him." Andromeda agreed, and he asked, "Are you going to want me to leave, or shall I stay for a while?"

"Stay! Stay!" Charlie and Will said together, and the twins took up the cry, grinning and clapping their hands.

"Well, the children seem to want you to stay," their mother said. "I'm sure they would love to fly out in the orchard for a while, if you're up to the challenge of watching them."

Sirius grinned at the two year olds tugging at his arms again, wanting to do exactly what their mother had suggested. "And if," Andromeda continued knowingly, "you see fit to remove the charms, replace them when you are finished."

"All right," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Let go," he told the twins, then said, "Go get your brooms" and followed them outside.

Andromeda let out a deep sigh as most of her sons followed her cousin outside, only Percy staying behind to sit with her. "You didn't have much tea, did you?" he said to her wisely, and she smiled at him.

"No, I didn't," she answered. "But it's okay. I needed to come home and feed Tommy anyway."

"What were you and Sirius talking about?" Percy wanted to know.

"Adult problems," Andromeda sighed. "Some of our friends needed help."

"And did you help them?" he continued to ask.

"I couldn't, but they got what they needed," his mother answered. "And Sirius helped his friends, too. Now why don't you go on outside and play with your brothers?"

"Sirius is too loud with Charlie and Silas and Regis," the boy sighed. "I like the house to be quiet."

"Very well," she smiled. "I'll be putting Tommy down for a nap in a little while anyway, so that should work out when the others are tired from their fun out in the orchard."

The nearly four year old turned back to the puzzle he'd been working on with Will and Andromeda drew a deep breath, taking a few moments to relax before she was inevitably left with her six boys again.

"No," Dora said in a huff, crossing her arms and glaring at her aunt.

"None of the rest of us want to go either, Nymphadora," Bellatrix told the girl sternly, "but we must."

"We don't have to," Dora said stubbornly. "We could just stay home."

Bellatrix forced herself to be patient with the girl, saying, "We're not staying home. We're going to go see Cissa and the new baby for a few minutes, and we'll be coming home straight afterward. It shouldn't take long, Dora. Now come here and help me choose a dress for you."

Dora didn't move, so Bellatrix choose a dress and brought it to her, telling her to change quickly. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we get back," Bellatrix said encouragingly.

When Bellatrix entered the hall with Nymphadora, fully ready to go, she spotted her husband and son and laughed. "You've both got the same expression," she said in amusement. "Cheer up, Roddy. Don't look so annoyed, Ronan."

Neither of the boys answered, and Bellatrix shook her head at the pair of them. "Roddy, you're a bad example," she said to him.

"You're the one who didn't want to go last time," Rodolphus retorted. "It's your sister: you could just take Dora and go."

"I don't want to go!" Dora told her uncle, glaring slightly though her hair stayed black.

"Well this is lovely," Rodolphus said with a smile, and Ronan glanced between his parents nervously. "But since you promised that all of us would visit, let us be on our way."

Bellatrix scowled at her husband for a moment, then moved forward and disapparated with Nymphadora, Rodolphus following with Ronan. It didn't take but a few seconds for Lucius to meet them at the door, which was strange enough all on its own, but it was even more awkward when the four had to wait for Narcissa to finish taking care of the child in another room before they were allowed in to see the new baby and his mother.

The boys stayed outside of the nursery, but the girls joined Narcissa and the new little one inside the room. Bellatrix didn't immediately look into the crib, but said to her sister, "You're already up and about!"

"Well, yes," Narcissa said with a slight smile. "I feel like I'm recovering more quickly if I'm more active, and I don't mind getting up to look after Draco."

"I suppose you're a natural, just like Andy," Bellatrix said with a lofty sigh. "Well, good for you."

"Not exactly," Narcissa said, shaking her head slightly, "but I'm doing the best I can. Come see him: he's perfect."

Bellatrix glanced into the crib, not at all caring for the appearance of her newest wrinkly little nephew. "I'm sure Lucius is thrilled," she said, doing her very best to set a good example for Nymphadora. "Going to have another one next year?"

"Merlin," Narcissa said, pressing her hand to her heart. "I don't know how Andromeda does it, to be honest. I hope I won't be having any more for a good long time."

"We all did it right, I suppose," Bellatrix mused. "We all had a son first—whether we engineered it or not." She eyed Narcissa accusingly.

The blonde witch smirked. "Well, it worked, didn't it?" she said, glancing down as Nymphadora crept up to the crib, peeking in between the bars at the sleeping baby.

Bellatrix too looked down at Dora and the baby, seeing the girl's frown of apprehension. Dora reached out slowly and touched the baby's hand, then withdrew her arm, grasping the bars as she continued to watch her little cousin. The girl did not say anything, and neither woman interrupted her until Draco stirred and let out a shrill cry.

Nymphadora's hair turned grey and red together, and she turned and ran to Bellatrix, peeking out from behind her aunt. "I feel sick," she whispered. "I want to go home."

"In a few moments," Bellatrix said gently, but she could feel Dora's magic crackling slightly and wondered how she could excuse herself and Dora politely.

The door banged open as Narcissa took the baby in her arms, and everyone turned toward the door in surprise. Rodolphus stood in the doorway with Ronan right behind him. "Bellatrix, Nymphadora, we're leaving. Cygnus is here."

"Oh—oh dear," said Narcissa, looking stricken. "Bella, we didn't know—"

Dora had run straight to her uncle, ready to go home immediately. Bellatrix scowled at the thought of her father being there—though he made a very good reason for leaving in a hurry. "Sorry, Cissa," Bellatrix said smoothly, "but we've got to go. Congratulations and good luck with your new heir." She didn't wait for her sister to reply, but quickly joined her husband and the children in walking back toward the Entrance Hall, where Cygnus and Lucius were standing there, talking.

Rodolphus did not address either one of them, but simply caught Lucius' eye and nodded before disapparating with Nymphadora. The moment Dora appeared, she said shakily, "I don't like babies."

"No?" he said in surprise, then slipped his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Dora."

"I didn't like Percy," Dora said, almost to herself as Rodolphus continued to listen to her. "And now Mum has more babies—and I don't like them. And I don't like Draco: he's stupid."

"Babies don't do much," Rodolphus agreed, leading the girl into the house. "Dora, your hair is black and grey."

"Can't help it," Dora said, wrapping her arms around herself as she was unwilling and unable to change it back.

"Dora, why is your hair like that?" Ronan and his mother had arrived, the boy hurrying up behind the girl. "What did the baby look like?"

Dora's hair shot completely red and she whirled around to glare at the boy. "He's ugly, and stupid," she snapped. "Leave me alone." She turned and ran out of the hall, heading straight for her room.

Ronan looked up at his father. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

Rodolphus sighed. "No, Dora's just having a hard time," he told his son.

"She's always having a hard time," Ronan huffed.

"She's decided she doesn't like babies," Rodolphus mused, glancing at Bellatrix. "Probably because she thinks her own mother has replaced her with other children."

"That's so mean!" Ronan said in shock. "But she wouldn't!"

"You don't know what Andromeda would do," Bellatrix told her son dismissively. "She wants another little girl: I'm sure that's why she just had this last kid. And she'll probably try again because she's got nothing better to do."

Ronan shook his head in bewilderment. "Girls are weird," he said. Rodolphus hid a smile, then motioned Ronan to follow him from the room.

Nymphadora climbed up onto her bed and curled beneath the covers, wishing she could have stayed home. Home. It wasn't a home here at Lestrange Manor, but if her own mother didn't want her, did she really have a home anyway? Dora wished she'd never seen the new baby, never seen Cissa pregnant—she even wished that she couldn't remember her mother being pregnant with the twins that had replaced her.

The six year old girl lay alone in her bed, tearless, longing for a mother's love, something more than what Aunt Bella showed her. What was the point of being special if it meant that she'd only get sent away, or that she'd have to be alone all the time? She didn't want to be special anymore. She wanted her mother—but her mother didn't want her.

Dora curled up more tightly on her bed, refusing to cry although she ached inside as if she'd eaten something bad. She wondered if her dad wanted her back, but she knew that Bella and Rod never talked about her dad and that she shouldn't ask.

A soft whimper came from the little girl as she realised that she'd never have her family back, that no one really cared that she wanted her family, even though Bella and Rod swore up and down that they'd do anything for her.

They didn't care what she wanted. And Dora knew it.