A/N: Just this thing I wrote for The-Darkness-Befalls's Storyworld Card Prompt Challenge, inspired by the 'mother' card. As an afterthought, also submitted for the Bechdel Test Competition by ladyoftheknightley.
A short scene of Tonks' labour, featuring her mother Andromeda.
)O(
"Aaarrgh!" A woman's scream rent the air, intermingling with the baying of a wolf nearby.
"Have some of these blueberries honey, they help relieve the pain."
"Nothing can relieve my effing PAIN!"
"Just try a few of these darling, there you go." Andromeda was determined to remain undeterred by her daughter's protests against sedation.
"You've put something in them, haven't you?! I want to be awake when -aaargh!" Tonks had been weakened since she started labour five hours ago, but she certainly wasn't about to give up now. Nothing could make her chose to lose consciousness in a world where you could be dead tomorrow; she didn't want to miss a single minute of anything, especially an experience as strong as this. Her mum was steadfastly trying to help her, but the truth was that kindness was going to get her nowhere. Tonks gritted her teeth as she prepared for another contraction. This time, she tried to breathe and make no noise of distress that would finally convince her mum to sedate her, but it was proving hellishly difficult.
Andromeda sighed in frustration at another failed attempt to give her daughter some relief. In the last few months since You-Know-Who's rise to power, the world had accumulated too much suffering to bear any more. She knew she couldn't ask her daughter to stop fighting, however much she cared for her, because these days fighting was the one constant in Dora's life. In the few weeks when Remus had left her when he heard about their baby, Dora had arranged meetings with individual members of the order. Behind closed doors, she'd whispered with them about strategy and how to bring down Voldemort one step at a time, but really that was just a distraction to stop her thinking about her husband. Andi had watched silently as this went on, helpless to do anything for her daughter. Each time she tried to have a chat about their lives with some hot tea and biscuits, Dora just ran off to her room, claiming that the Order needed her urgent assistance and that it couldn't wait.
Feeling that the time for kindness had gone, Andi grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and looked as well as she could into her scrunched up eyes. She said sharply-
"Listen to me, Dora! I have seen too much of the world to not know when a part of it needs help. Do you not think that I went through this too? Do you not think that I felt the same things as you, or do you think that I skipped through life without a care in the world? Every time I look into a mirror do you not think I am disgusted by my family ties?
Her eyes were flashing with, if not anger, then at least exasperation. Andi's back was hunched as she leant over her bed-ridden daughter, her uncombed black hair falling around her face.
The expression on her mother's face, which bore an uncanny resemblance to another member of the Black family, startled Tonks into momentary silence. She hiccupped after a few moments of staring at her mother, causing the woman to straighten up and turn away. By now the pain that rode across her body was never-ceasing, but she seemed to have become numb to it. What was physical suffering compared to the loss of a loved one?
A few months ago they'd heard about Ted's death. Andi had known it must only have been a matter of time before they found him, but the news had sent her into a frenzy. She kept herself busy by cleaning the house from top to bottom, and when Dora had arrived on the doorstep, she'd taken her in only too gladly. The bustle associated with giving birth and raising a baby meant that she could drop off to sleep in an instant and not dream. Through these small mercies she was able to continue living, when all hope seemed lost.
"I'll go and make you something else, and you'd better eat it this time." Andromeda said more softly, half-jokingly.
She sauntered to the kitchen and took a deep breath. 'Control yourself Andi! The girl's severely distressed, she doesn't need you piling your troubles on top of hers,' she said to herself. The part of her that still recognized its family ties replied tauntingly, 'Oh, but she deserves it. She chose to marry that werewolf, knowing full well that he was hesitant about it. She chose to have a child. Is it your fault that she's having problems? You've been nothing but nice to her. I say it's time we stir things up a little. Throw her out, and see how she likes it.'
Plagued by the demons she had since she'd realised she was different from her mother and sisters, Andi did was she always did when she wants to stop listening to someone. She began to take foodstuffs out of the cupboards and prepare them on a tray. Instantly, the devil on her shoulder disappeared, as if allergic to the heavy scent of cinnamon. Andi hummed an old ballad to herself as she chopped up the apples. Usually she'd use her wand to do this, but she felt that getting her hands to do something for once except swish and flick a piece of wood could be a welcome relief. She was beginning to enjoy herself, stirring up fruit on the stove, when she realised that the living room was strangely silent. Ignoring her pot for a minute, Andi tiptoed out of the kitchen and looked into the room. She saw her daughter, prone on the sofa cum bed, snoring her head off.
Sometimes, albeit rarely, this happened in pregnancies. Apparently her mother had to be continually woken up in the crucial stages of Andi's birth, as she kept dropping off whenever things got dull.
Andromeda came back to the stewing fruit and assessed it for taste. 'Not bad,' she reflected, 'but it could definitely be better.' With a whimsical flick of her wrist, a dash of some spice was added to the pot. Andi thought that during times like this, i.e. under stress, it was best to just go with the flow and do whatever seemed right. Following this line of reasoning she added in a teaspoonful of sugar, stirred the whole thing up and tasted it with the tip of her tongue. Excellent! Just the thing to jolt a young girl awake.
Andromeda ladled some of the hot fruit-soup into a wide bowl and set it on the counter. It would have to wait a few minutes. A new idea was brewing in her head, and she wondered how to take advantage of it. She went across the corridor into her room (there was no point of going up the stairs to the room that used to be hers, the one she'd shared with Ted) and found the drawer she wanted. In it, there was a picture of her baby, slightly dusty but in perfect condition. The girl in it was stirring, her eyes closed and her dark hair obscuring her forehead. If you looked very closely, you could see that the shade of brown (of her hair) changed almost imperceptibly every now and then.
Andi smiled in fond recollection of that day and came back to the kitchen, holding the old framed photograph reverently. Since the War started, it was difficult to get your hands on anything new without having your identity questioned. From high up on a cupboard, Andi took a pristine camera. It was outdated, but it would have to do. She snuck back into the living room, hovering everything in the air next to her, and prodded her daughter to wake her up.
Tonks snapped her head up and reflexively grabbed her wand from a nearby coffee table. She relaxed when she saw it was only her mother, but tensed up again when camera floating perfectly still in the air blinked and took a picture. Tonks covered her face and groaned.
"Mum, this is no time for photos! I'm in labour!"
"Yes, how that going for you? Here, before you answer, have some of this." Before Tonks could move, Andi shoved a spoonful of the goopy fruit into her face. Too surprised to think about it, Tonks swallowed. She breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to recover from the burning sensation in her mouth.
"Actually, I feel fine. No pain or...anything."
"Good, that'll be the mango doing its job. Now," Andi stared pensively at her daughter, "how about you tell me how you're doing. This is the first time I've got you somewhere you can't run away. Go on, we do have all night."
"Well, I have been having these odd pains in my back, my hair's gone red and I seem to be even worse at cleaning spells than usual." Tonks started, "Then there's Molly, I'm worried she might be bored with worry over her son, you know the one, Ron. Since he's gone away with Harry, I've never seen her more agitated. Not even when Arthur was bitten by that snake two years ago-"
Tonks continued to talk, pouring out everything she'd been holding in. She ate mouthfuls of fruit-soup every now and then, almost mechanically. Andi just settled down and watched her. This was her baby girl, all grown up, about to take part in the never-ending cycle that was life and death. She felt peaceful at the thought that even if the Dark Lord was going to succeed in his quest of domination, there would always be some hope for the future.
)O(
Hours after the birth, Tonks was lying asleep in her messy bed with her little boy in her arms when her husband burst into the room.
"Tonks!" he cried out, "so it's ok, the baby's fine!"
"Shush yourself Remus, can't you see she's asleep? She needs her rest after such an ordeal, and you disrupting it will not curry you any favour."
"Andromeda! So...how'd it go?" Remus Lupin was acting very excitedly, jumping at anything that promised to offer information about his wife. Unfortunately, Tonks' labour had fallen on the full moon, and the absence of Snape meant that he couldn't remain himself during the birth. For everyone's safety he'd been forced to run away into the country, only coming back when he was sure that he couldn't endanger anyone anymore. His wife and child's safety was his responsibility, and he would die for them if it came to that, goddammit.
Remus hovered over to where his wife was lying and looked at her. When he heard the tell-tale SNAP of a camera, he turned to see his mother-in-law grinning from ear to ear.
"Your first family photo, how sweet. I can have it developed in no time."
Andromeda went off back to the kitchen and returned some minutes later with a piece of paper in her hands. She took out the photo she'd bought with her into the living room hours ago and replaced it in the frame with the one of the Lupin family.
"It's more important that you have this than I. This is how my real family was started; with Dora. And now she's ready to start her own." Andi held out the framed photograph to Remus and he took it, momentarily speechless.
"I can't tell you how much this means to me Andi. Thank you."
"Stop with the sap and start looking after your wife. She'll need it a lot more now, especially for all the times she'd had to make do without you. I'll leave you three alone."
And Andromeda left, leaving Remus with his wife and child. She was not so necessary in the lives of her children anymore, although she was rather looking forward to taking on her new role of grandmother. She vaguely wondered what they were going to call the baby. Probably something modern, something that would make him stand out. Of course, the bright blue hair should be enough, but you never knew. She just hoped it wouldn't be burdened with the expectations that came with an old, borrowed name from someone they'd known. There'd be too much pressure on the child already, with his odd father and appearance.
Andi started her ascent on the stairs, not thinking of what she was doing as she went into her old room and laid down on the bed. 'Whatever will be, will be' she reflected, 'and it was no use worrying about it.'
)O(
Fin
Update: Since my mother read this and gave me feedback on it, I have realised that I should not be writing labour scenes as I know nothing about them. So many mistakes have been made that I shall just shy away from this story and put it down to experience, though a review would still help.