"Out for a stroll?" his mother asked. "In this weather?"

Ted shrugged. "What can I say? I missed the farm."

She gave him another discerning glance, and he prayed he didn't blush. The sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen put an end to the conversation, though Ted wasn't as grateful for that as he might have been otherwise.

He stiffened as soon as his father entered the kitchen, and his father did the same. It had been exactly a year since he'd seen his father. He hadn't spoken with his son after Christmas, and Ted had gotten the letter from his mother right before Easter that his father was gone.

For a moment, Ted could almost pretend the last year had never happened, and it was Christmas with his entire family again. Except, it didn't work like that. His father had left, and there was nothing he could say to change that.

After a tense silence, Mr. Tonks cleared his throat and said, "Andro— Andromeda said she'll be down in a moment."

Ted almost chuckled at the way his father stumbled over Andromeda's name, the same way he used too, but he stopped himself. He wasn't going to let his father back in. That would only be inviting in more heartbreak.

"She's still asleep?" Jean said, with a frown.

"She hasn't been sleeping well at Hogwarts," Ted said with a shrug. That was true. Even with Lily's protective charms, Andromeda slept with one eye open in her dormitory.

"So, she slept your bed?" Jean said. "I told you she was welcome to mine."

Shit. He'd completely forgotten his mother had offered her room. He willed his cheeks not to flush as he said, "She felt more comfortable in my room, so I just slept on the couch."

"I see." His mum continued to stare at him, and he dared not even blink. Eventually, she looked away, and he sighed in relief.

"She's seems like a lovely lady," His father offered tentatively.

Ted's jaw twitched. A part of him wanted to ignore his father, but with his mother looking at him like that he didn't dare. "She is."

Silence followed his words. Ted refused to look his father in the eye, but he could see him shuffling uncomfortable while his head dropped.

"Ted, I—" his dad began, but Ted interrupted.

"How are Gramps and Gramma?"

His father flinched, but Ted refused to feel guilty. He knew what his father was going to say, but he just couldn't bare to hear it. Not when he knew the apology would be empty.

"They're well," Edward Tonks said finally.

"Good." Ted nodded.

Silence fell again. Ted hoped his father would get the hint, and stop trying to force this to happen. But he supposed it was like son like father in that regard.

"Ted, I'm sorry," Mr. Tonks said.

"Okay," Ted said stiffly, once again praying his dad would drop it.

But Mr. Tonks ignored his sons glares and pressed on. "I know you're angry with me. I just… I want a chance to explain."

"You don't have to explain, Ted said quickly. "I get it."

Edward Tonks blinked. "You do?"

"My kind are dangerous freaks," Ted said acidly. "You wanted to be as far away from us as possible. That's wise. Especially leaving your wife. Stellar move there."

Mr. Tonks flinched, and Jean stopped her cooking. "Ted—"

"Good morning." They all jumped at the sound of Andromeda's voice. Ted, however, was grateful. This conversation wasn't going anywhere good, for any of them.

"Andromeda, lovely to see you dear," Jean said, even sounding like she meant it. Ted breathed out. With all the drama with his father, he couldn't handle a repeat of last time Andromeda had been here. "Breakfast is just about ready. I assume you're hungry."

"May I set the table?" Andromeda asked, smiling politely.

Jean's eyes widened at the request, but she nodded. Andromeda's smile became more pronounced as she flicked her wand. The dishes and silverware began floating gently out the cupboard and arranging themselves on the table.

Ted raised his eyebrows, impressed. His reaction was nothing compared to his parents, whose jaws dropped open. Even after he'd turned seventeen Ted hadn't performed much magic, and his magic was nowhere near as smooth as Andromeda's.

She looked so pleased with herself, Ted had to take her down a notch. "You only set one fork," he teased. "I'm so proud."

She responded by pointing her wand at him and he raised his arms in mock surrender. Their grins gave them away though, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, locked in this strange scene of domesticity.

Jean cleared her throat, and they came back to reality. Mr. Tonks still seemed stunned buy the magic, and he eyed Andromeda warily. That was enough to put the sour look back on Ted's face.

They began eating in silence. Ed was still fuming too much as his father to dare say anything. He could see Andromeda giving him concerned glances, but he didn't return them. He still hadn't explained any of this situation to her, and he knew he owed her. But right now, he just wanted to make it through breakfast without blowing up at his father.

"So, Andromeda," Edward Tonks began nervously, "Jean tells me you come from . . . I mean, your family is well off?"

Ted shot his father a glare. His father flushed, but refused to meet his son's gaze.

"They are one of the oldest magical families," Andromeda said coolly. "That comes with a certain… inheritance."

"That's good, for you, then." Mr. Tonks chuckled nervously.

"They disowned her," Ted said, smacking his fork against his plate hard enough to earn an alarmed glance from Andromeda. "When they found out about us."

"Right. Of course." Edwards Tonks flushed again. "Your family, they don't like… what is it you call us?"

"Muggles," Ted said.

Andromeda carefully set down her fork and sighed. "No. They don't."

Silence followed her words, marked only by the awkward clattering of forks on the plates, though no one was eating.

"Your family," Mr. Tonks began tentatively, "Are they involved with… with what's happening around England?"

Andromeda and Ted exchanged glances. Other than Ted's hurried letter to his mother, he hadn't told her much about the Death Eaters or Lord Voldemort or the attacks. He certainly hadn't told his father everything. But even before the Death Eaters had entered the scenario, his father had known all wasn't right with the Wizard world. It was why he had left his family in the first place.

"No," Andromeda said finally, "Though I don't think they particularly care to stop it either."

"But it is your kind?" his father pressed. "I mean, it's Wizards, and Witches."

"Yes," Andromeda said through tight lips.

More silence followed. This time without the pretense of clanking forks. No one felt like eating now.

"And you?" Mr. Tonks asked quietly. "Do you care to stop it?"

Andromeda flinched, and something in Ted snapped.

"Pops!" he shouted, his nostrils flaring.

"I'm sorry," Edward shrank back from his son. "I'm just… concerned. About you."

"Really?" Ted seethed. "You're concerned about me? Or you?"

Hurt flashed across his father's features, and when he spoke his voice trembled slightly. "I just want to make sure you're safe. That your mother's safe."

"So, you accuse Andromeda of what, exactly?"

"I didn't accuse her of anything. But she admitted her family doesn't care about this… whatever this is."

Ted's eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Just because one's family is one way, doesn't me they'll be the same. You're proof of that."

"Ted!" his mother said, but Ted didn't take his eyes off his father. Guilt crossed his features, but he pressed on still.

"I just want to understand the danger you face," Mr. Tonks said meekly. "If these people are so unaccepting of your relationship, does that make you a target? Or your family?"

His father was trying so hard to keep the peace, yet he kept saying all the wrong things.

"Is this why you came back?" Ted said, while his hands began to shake. "To pick our brains about what's happening?"

Edward shook his head. "Ted, I—"

"It is, isn't it?" Ted said, his while body beginning to shake with hurt and fury. "You don't care about me, or Mum. You just want to know what you have to do to save your own skin."

"Ted!" Jean said again, this time rising from her seat.

Ted also stood up, but his eyes remained fixed on his father. "You want to know the truth? Then fine. Yes. There are some bad Wizards out there. Wizards who hate muggles and muggleborns and blood traitors like Andromeda. And the only thing you can do to keep yourself safe from them is to stay as far away from me as possible. It shouldn't be that hard for you since you already did it for a year."

There. He'd said it. The thing he'd been waiting to say his father for months, and never thought he'd get the opportunity.

The guilt in his father's eyes was so raw it stung. Slowly, his father stood as well, and even took a tentative step toward his only son. "Ted, I didn't mean… I didn't mean to abandon you—"

"Well, you did," Ted said, and his voice broke. He could also feel the moisture gathering at his eyes. "And truth be told, we got along just fine without you. So why don't you stop pretending like you want anything to do with me."

"I'm not—" His father started to move closer to him, but Ted had had enough. He pushed away from the table and stormed out the door without another thought. The freezing winter air hit him like a slap, but he didn't care. He couldn't stay in that house any longer.

He heard the shifting of his mother's chair, but then Andromeda said, "Let me." As he heard her chair shift as well. Guilt shot threw him. He'd been so focused on his father, he'd completely forgotten Andromeda was there. That conversation had to have been as biting for her as for him, and maybe even more so. Plus, he'd known this was coming. She'd woken up this morning with no idea of the tangled familial mess she was about to walk into.

He kept walking. He could almost feel her behind him, but he didn't stop. Not until he reached the barn. He didn't turn around when she entered, and she didn't say anything. Tears were still streaming down his face. He knew he owed her an apology, an explanation, something, but he just couldn't do it.

The next thing he felt was her arms sliding around his body, and her lips gently kissing his shoulder. Shivers racked through his body, though whether anger or pain or cold, he wasn't sure. Andromeda flicked her wand, and a contained ball of fire appeared in front of them, bathing them in warmth. His shivers abated somewhat, but not completely. Apparently, it had been a combination of cold and pain.

"I'm sorry I brought you here for this," he said finally.

"I'm not," she said, gently placing her head on his shoulder. "There's no where I'd rather be but at your side."

She didn't say anything else, and neither did her. He just let her hold him. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, but his tears stopped and his shaking subsided. Andromeda slid her arms around until she stood in front of him, and her eyes bored into his.

"Why didn't you tell me your father was coming?" she asked.

Ted breathed in, but there was no accusation in her voice, just a desire to understand. "I wanted to. I just… I wanted you to believe Christmas with me would be special, especially since last Christmas…"

He didn't finish that sentence, and she didn't press him too.

"Do you truly believe he's because his fears for his own safety?" she asked.

"I don't know what to believe," Ted said, before sinking unto a bale of hay. Andromeda moved with him, her hands never leaving him. "Growing up, my father was always there for me. But after he found out I was a Wizard, he just… he never saw me the same. And when all those mysterious things started hitting the muggle news he just snapped. Now things are worse than ever, and I'm just supposed to believe he's finally ready to accept me?"

She mulled over his question for a long time before saying, "My father never accepted me. It never mattered what I did. I was never good enough. I could have been the perfect pureblood daughter, and he never would have seen me as more than a means to gain more wealth and power."

Ted stared at her. She so rarely talked about her family. It had once been a point of contention with him. Yet now he wanted to slap himself for not realizing how difficult all this talk of parents and family relationships must be for her after she'd lost hers completely.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"In a way, it's better," she said with a sad smile. "I never had to deal with the heartbreak of losing his love because I never had it in the first place."

Silence followed their words. Though it wasn't stiff or uncomfortable. They both had a lot to think about. Ted wasn't sure how he felt about her insight. On the one hand, it made sense on some level. From what she told him, she'd never been close with either of her parents. And yet, losing them had still ripped her up. But he tried to imagine what it would be like to know, with certainty, that his parents didn't love him, and he just couldn't fathom it.

"Ted, I'm not trying to convince you to forgive your father," she said suddenly, turning to him in earnest. "I'm just saying… he seems lost and confused and afraid…. But he doesn't seem like a man who doesn't love his son. I would know."

Perhaps she was right. And perhaps he should be thinking about what he wanted from his father, but right now all he could think about was how amazing the person sitting next to him was, and how lucky he was to have her.

"I love you," he said.

She blushed, and her smile completely filled her features. "You already said that today."

"And I'll probably say it again before the days over," he said, before giving her a gentle kiss. He was remembered, briefly, of their night together, and he pulled away before he could reignite too much. There would be time for that later.

"What should I do?" he asked.

She seemed surprised by his question, but then she took his hand in hers. "Spend Christmas with your family. Then we'll figure out what comes next."

He smiled. He had no idea what that would entail, but with Andromeda here, he didn't worry.