Thank you BlueWater5 and Zeugma412!

A5mia: ….Maybe *winks*

"The worst type of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see-the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. Our souls contained more scar tissue than life."

― Katie McGarry

CHAPTER 9: Sinner's Descent

February 23rd, 2002

[Severus Snape]

Why? …Why didn't I just allow the curse to take me?

He struggled to even look at himself in the mirror these days. Why bother? He never recognized himself anymore.

He was supposed to be better…stronger. He was supposed to let go of everything that was weighing down his poor, damaged soul. And he thought he did. Instead, he let it consume him in all his bitterness again knowing full well he deserved every darkened night alone with his thoughts and every misfortune to befall him every single day. He couldn't breathe and whenever he did, it hurt like hell. All that wasted oxygen for a man who had nothing to give and nothing to show for his supposed, wretched atonement. He lived with his guilt and admitted to them painfully like a needle constantly piercing his skin with every one of his sins and yet he was nothing.

Still, nothing.

Lily must be appalled by him, perhaps looking at him shamefully from the ether at the shell he had become of himself. It hurt to think what she would think. The real Lily – Not the haunting apparition that drove him to harm himself four years ago. The apparition was so painful, that he wished for death.

Begged for it.

Who was ever going to love a miserable, unpleasant fool such as himself? He had nothing of value to offer and his own misfortune followed him like a shadow everywhere he treads. No one was ever going to love a man self-inflicted by the errors of his past and someone who struggled to move forward. Because what was there to move forward to? More pain? More terror? More emptiness?

I don't want to feel anymore.

Today was just another ordinary hell. A day spent stuck with his own thoughts; a dismal reminder of the endless cycle of unhappiness and longing for something more. His heart ached. He wanted company, but it felt far safer alone. He wanted acceptance, but he was afraid of being condemned again. He wanted to finally feel at peace, yet he simply could not let go of the past. All the years went by and those walls of his heart since erected with cold metal and stone once more because a man-made heart seemed to withhold, as opposed to his own which pulse with too many emotions he did not want to feel. Only Harry seemed to have possessed the rare ability to chip through it, but still, he defended his own heart from everything else. Only he could bring it down, but he was fearful to even try. He had to protect what was left of that fragile, bleeding muscle, for whatever good it was.

Somehow.

Misery takes a mighty toll. It felt like some invisible entity was occupying his brain like a grappling mist, acting on his behalf. To say and do certain things like a puppet, then struggle to convince himself if it was real or a figment of his imagination. It was feeling trapped within that haze and when being alone, all he could think about it was what he should have said or done. Sometimes those feelings pass by unsympathetically. Other times it is so overwhelming that he wanted to scream so desperately for someone to hear.

Some dreams mix with reality and at times it's hard to fathom what was real, or what was a fragment of that entity consuming his very soul. He would often sit alone and ponder if it were worth cleaning up his home, or restocking his fridge with edible food, or writing a letter, or simply doing ingredients run at Diagon Alley. Sometimes pondering to force himself into the shower was an impossible effort and he could barely bring himself to maintain his personal hygiene at the worst of times. He knows he should be doing them, but he simply couldn't. Sometimes there really were no words to explain why he couldn't do such things.

Why bother, anyway?

The entity was a cloak he could not shed – it was a part of him and always would be. There was no vanquishing it, no matter how hard he tried to will it all away. He barely had the same joy tinkering away in his potions lab much these days. Sure, he had his own personal project but even that felt like a chore some days when things became too heavy to withstand. His mind seemed to block his heart from enjoying the simple things as he used to and that idea frustrated him deeply. He knew he was supposed to find joy in something he was so passionate about, but there was just no joy to be found. And he knew this was a factor in why his personal project was taking so long to culminate.

He lost all focus.

He lacked the motivation or drive for something more. Deep within, he didn't find much point in doing so. At times he would convince himself that this was just a phase, and the feelings of hopelessness would soon disappear, but that waiting from days to weeks, even, was agonizing. Ignoring the communication with the very few he still trusted was crushing to his own soul. Leaving them unanswered took less effort than telling them why he couldn't. Sending an answer meant he had to explain how he felt and even he could not put that into words. Or at least give them a convoluted answer. It took far too much energy to do so, thus it was easier to simply ignore them.

He was afraid to sleep sometimes. The horror he would endure in his sleeping state was simply a cruel reminder of his mistakes but staying awake faced almost the same identical horrors. It was a dilemma sometimes to decide whether sleep was worth it, or he simply wanted to feel something different than his own pain for a change.

Depression was definitely another entity, controlling every one of his thoughts, feelings, and desires. But he often wondered to himself if choosing life over death was really worth it.

Was it?

What more could he possibly provide? How could he, a damaged man, find peace in returning to the one place at the center of it all? Hogwarts was supposed to be a home, but it never was. It was never his safe place for him, as a child or as an adult. The lonely corridors he walked alone were just another reminder of his failures and he couldn't possibly understand how returning could make it all better. Minerva was determined to have him back, but Severus felt uneasy with the idea of it. Sick, even. He couldn't fathom any good to come out of it. He just wanted to be alone, away from people. He much preferred to sit in silence within his own sadness, than to sit in a crowd of those likely to cast judgment on him so easily.

Is that what it was? Was he truly afraid of what they would all think? He knew this shouldn't bother him and really, it never did. But why now? Why did that thought alone give him the urge to hurl the remainder of his stomach contents?

Don't be an idiot, Severus. They are merely children. Ignorant, judgemental, immature…

Severus sighed to himself.

No, Severus, you were supposed to be better than this. Have you learned nothing?

He ran his hands over his pallid face, feeling his own lips cracked and dry. He sat within his small, darkly lit study with a stack of books beside him, but his vision blurred as he tried to read. Unable to focus, he gave up the task and spent almost an hour staring off into the abyss. He couldn't focus and his mind was overrun by thoughts that even he was afraid of. Occasionally he would answer his own questions aloud, knowing full well he was going mad.

But even he was sick and tired of hearing his own voice and for once in his life, he wished to hear voices that were not his own, or a figment of his own irrational mind.

Gradually pulling himself onto his feet, he walked slowly towards his kitchen and retrieved one of his pre-brewed mixes of analgesia contained in the small vial, and downed the contents in one go. The horrific scarring at his neck had been throbbing for the majority of the morning, sensitive to the chill in the air, but it got to a point when it began to bother him immensely. He hated the stuff. It was bitter and putrid, but at least it took some of the edge off. Once he had emptied the vial, he withdrew his wand and performed a simple Scourgify, cleaning the vial to be re-used later with the same concoction. He turned to the countertop, pulled out a new glass, and set it down upon the kitchen table beside the half-consumed bottle of whiskey.

He eyed the liquid with utter loathing, and he knew he should have never reached for that first glass when things became difficult. That first glass began when he lost his job, and the sharp alcohol at least warmed his bitterness and helped to numb whatever he was feeling. It at times clouded his judgment, but it was not like he had anywhere else to be. So, it really didn't bother him at all. Sometimes the scent of the stale spirit would remind him of his father, but ironically, he would drink to forget him. It was a vicious cycle of denial and he hated himself immensely for it.

He clearly wasn't capable of anything else.

After downing a few glasses of whiskey, he soon stumbled out of the front door and wandered to his own private little greenhouse just after midday in order to trim some of the leaves and collect fallen mature fangs from his small collection of Fanged Geraniums. With his wand, he cast a small red sparkle at its tip, distracting the dangerous flora so he could retrieve them unscathed with the other dragon-hide gloved hand. Once he managed to collect a small pouch of the ingredients, he took a pair of snippers and began to trim the vines of his lavender-colored Wisteria, whose scent was a welcoming pleasantry to his still clouded senses. The vines had grown within the greenhouse at an alarming rate, and he needed to ensure that it did not overrun the rest of the containment with the other flora. The flowers of the Wisteria would be allowed to dry for low-grade burn salves and the vines he boiled for some of his private concoctions. Every piece of the plant was utilized in one way or another, even to sell some off within the private market. When he had enough, he would sell them to the Apothecary at Diagon Alley, or even Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary at Knockturn Alley if he felt lucky enough for a good deal. He did have several private sellers within his old contacts, but that was always during any dire need since he was lacking any real income. For now, he wanted to play it safe.

He had spent a few hours slaving away within his gardens until he took his dirt-stained hands to the bathroom to clean himself up. With his own haul of ingredients, he took them back to his laboratory and spent a little while longer organizing them meticulously into his labeled jars and containers which impressively lined the wall on the other side of the room. The upside to this was that at least he would not have any pesky children stealing from his stores and his own private collection was well and truly protected.

Would he need to move his projects back to Hogwarts? He already had a wonderous set-up at home, however, if he were going to take the NEWT students, he would have far more time on his hands and would be able to return to his own, secure abode –

…Why was even pondering the idea in the first place? How daft must he be to continue to contemplate the idea of returning? Why was he even considering it?

Failure. Utter failure…

Severus Snape was absolutely conflicted and had no idea what path to take. Taking the post would pose a lot of personal problems and yet a part of him was curious as to how different things would be now that Tom Riddle was no longer a problem. But he was also afraid of what might happen if he rejected the offer again. Minerva was painfully right – would that really be better than the miserable life he was currently living? He was quite evidently stuck and was not moving forward. His soul begged for purpose, and he was surely not getting that where he was now.

But Hogwarts was incredibly painful for him, and he was uncertain if he would be able to withstand it this time. He couldn't bear to face everyone else again and the idea of looking into the eyes of his other colleagues and students during his time he had no choice but to paint himself as the enemy, was indeed a frightening thought. He murdered their previous headmaster and continued his role as Death Eater until his almost dying breath. He was an absolute traitor and he hated himself for it.

Severus shut his eyes and all he could hear was Nagini's hissing within his ears causing goosebumps to ripple throughout his skin. His breath grew irregular, and he clutched at his neck when he finally convinced himself to pry open his tired, heavy eyes. He turned around on the spot and searched the ground manically, hoping more than anything else, that the demon snake was not around. He could feel the haunting of her fangs pressing into his skin, like a phantom. He knew she was not there physically, but he could still feel the weight of her scaly form constricting his feeble body, squeezing whatever life was left within him. The image of her jaw widening to strike him haunted him during his waking hours and it would forever be burned within his mind. He wanted to obliviate the memory so desperately, but he was not skilled in those arts, and he was fearful of what else he might permanently erase.

He, on several occasions, had tried to remove that memory of the night he almost perished. He wanted to forget the creature so hellbent on slaughtering him at Riddles' command, however, the memory of that night was complicated and not an insignificant event. He knew that simple memories were easier to retrieve and contain, but the night of his death…He suffered quite significant memory loss surrounding it and it affected every other memory that tied in with it. Seeing Harry, giving up his own memories to him, being saved by Draco, and returning to see Riddle one last time as Harry's protector and not Riddle's Death Eater stooge, were not things he should be tampering with. His attempt to rid his mind of the serpent who attempting to kill him and imbed her curse within him had damaged every other memory he had surrounding it. He had difficulty remembering what the curse had done to him, but in effect, he had begun to forget the days he spent with Harry Potter and reviving the Order for one last fight. And he did not want to forget the horrid circumstances that eventually led Harry and himself to make peace with one another.

It took far too much effort on his part to admit to all of his mistakes and bad deeds within that time, and all of the things he wished he didn't have to do.

In trying to preserve his willingness to move his hatred and bitterness aside, begrudgingly, he had to put that memory back into his mind. His current memories were far too complicated to allow that specific one to ruin all the rare, good ones he managed to salvage within his life. Especially after the fall of Riddle and his newfound connection with Harry. He did not want that feeling to fade. No, he did not want to forget that rare feeling of one of the only few people within his life to have ever given a damn about how he felt. One who truly acknowledged the broken fragments within the man and who was able to finally see him for who he truly was and not what he wanted everyone else to see within his dangerous role.

Severus was still trying to mend his life, even now.

But he was delirious. The lack of sleep was getting to him, causing him to continue to hallucinate his serpentine assailant. Severus leaned against the wooden table to steady himself against the room spinning around him. He desperately needed to rest. Taking a few moments to focus on calming his breaths again, he eventually peeled himself away from his potions laboratory and took himself to the couch within his darkened sitting room. He planted himself on its edge and brought his legs up close to his chest, curling up with his traveling cloak wrapped around him.

He stared at the murky window hiding the world outside, for what seemed like hours, as his mind finally decided to drift off.

Soon, he fell asleep hoping he could push away all of his dark thoughts, even for a short while.

Holding onto them, was exhausting.

February 26th, 2002

[Andromeda Tonks]

"Oh, Teddy – Sweetheart, I just put your toys away – " Andromeda carefully stepped over the array of blocks, plush toys, books, and remnants of the child's lunch, littered all over the floor. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling yet another headache fast developing, knowing that this was the third time she had to do this during the day already.

Usually, she was fine with the mess on occasion, but she wanted little Ted to understand the importance of cleaning up after himself and making sure the floor was not cluttered with things that could fast become a trip hazard. Given Andromeda's prone to headaches recently, cleaning up constantly after the almost four-year-old was not something she wished to be doing on a daily basis.

Andromeda and little Edward lived in the small village of Fairlight, East Sussex. A small single-story old cottage home with a warm beige sandstone foundation sat on the outskirts of the Muggle village, highlighted by coastline, and rolling hillside. The home itself was small, however spacious for the two of them. The open windows allowed a soft salty sea breeze to waft through the abode, which Andromeda found refreshing. The house was surrounded by a typical old picket fencing and one which her husband used to favor so much. The house sat on a slight elevation on the hillside, allowing slightly skewed views of the coast beyond. The area was quaint, and the locals were respectful and considerate. It was the home she and her husband had purchased together and lived in since the day that he passed. Since the arrival of little Edward – lovingly called Ted, or Teddy – she lived in peace with her grandson and raised him like her own.

Not a day went by when her deceased husband and daughter were not on her mind. Every time she glanced fondly at Ted, she could not help but feel the sadness within that Nymphadora or Remus were not here to watch the little boy grow and flourish. It hurt that they were no longer here, and her heart ached to see her family again. All she could do was stay strong for little Teddy, but she could barely stay strong for herself.

Harry and Ginny Potter had been wonderful and supportive since. Harry, being Teddy's elected Godfather, had made an increasing effort to be within the child's life and that made Andromeda happy. Knowing that Teddy had loving figures within his life who would do anything for him, set her mind at ease. And she absolutely reveled in Teddy's reaction to seeing Harry and Ginny at each visit. The innocent joy on his face made her happy. Teddy loved Harry so much, which never went unnoticed. Harry was playful with him and did whatever he could to ensure he was provided for and loved. He wanted to see him happy, and Andromeda couldn't be any prouder of him.

Each day without her husband and daughter was difficult but seeing Teddy blissful and content was her main goal. She never wanted to see him unhappy, and thus she spoiled him rotten and vowed to spend as much time with him as possible. After all, Teddy would be turning four soon, and seeing him grow had been her highlight since the War's end.

After dinner, once the sun began to set, Andromeda summoned a mess of thick blankets and cast them all over the couch. Hearing Teddy's joyous giggles, she smiled as she curled under the blanket with Teddy snuggled by her side.

"Let's read a story, " Andromeda placed three small books across her lap, "Which one should we read first?"

Teddy scrunched up his small face in deep thought, pointing his finger at all three books one at a time. Andromeda chuckled as she watched him trying to decide. Teddy bit his lip and finally slapped his hand on the small book with an aqua-sheened baby dragon on its cover, "That one!"

Casting the other two aside, Andromeda smiled, "Great choice. We haven't read this one in a while. Can you tell me what creature is on the front?"

Teddy tilted his head to his side, causing a few wavy locks to drop over near his eyes, "A-a…Hmm…Dr…Um, dro…dram…"

Andromeda lovingly brushed his unkempt hair aside, "Close, sweetheart. It's a dragon. A baby dragon!"

"Dra-gon!"

"That's it!" Andromeda smirked, as she turned to the first page with a silver and blue-pattern egg. The egg glittered and glowed with an effects charm previously imbued throughout the children's book, causing Teddy's eyes to widen in wonder. Andromeda then began to read slowly, "'There once was a blue egg, which looked like the sky…But it was left alone, during the winter winds so high…The egg had fallen, brittle and bare…But it seemed as if the egg was lost, amongst the snowy air…'"

Teddy pulled up the blanket close to his chin, watching as Andromeda read each page.

Andromeda smiled, leaning over to tenderly kiss the child on his forehead, before she proceeded, "'One windy day the egg began to shake…And soon enough, it began to break.'"

Teddy gasped, "Oh no!"

"Oh, wait for it – " Andromeda turned the page, "One by one the shell littered the floor…But now it was an egg, no more. With one fell cry and a burst of its tiny wings…A baby dragon emerged, of all things!'"

Teddy clapped and cheered enthusiastically beside her.

Andromeda continued, fuelled by the child's joy, "'The little baby was born, lost and alone…But now it just wanted to find its way back home. The baby dragon could not yet fly…But its tiny feet could only just get him by. His family could not be found for days and days…But the baby was tired, in all his daze. But then one day he found a friend…Alas, he knew this was not the end. His friend cried out, "Look, look!"…And in the distance, the earth shook. In flashes of colors, blues, and greens…His saw his family, and ran in between! For then the baby dragon had now since been found…He wanted to fly, not to be lost on the ground. With wings outstretched and head held high, the baby dragon finally learned to fly! Alone he was no longer, he soared beyond the clouds…With love found, now, he – "

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Andromeda frowned as she looked at her grandson with an equally confused expression. They both sat in silence, while Andromeda slowly reached for her wand. There was another pause and for a second, she felt relieved when she did not hear it again, hoping that sound would disappear, and the strange guest would leave. However, there were another few knocks upon her oak door, and Andromeda sighed, defeated.

Andromeda leaned towards Teddy, and whispered, "Stay here, alright? I'll go and see who that is."

Climbing out disappointingly from under the warm blankets, Andromeda silently made her way to the front door with her wand carefully outstretched beside her. She often didn't get visitors without notice first, so this visitor was rather odd for the evening.

"Annie, it's me – "

Andromeda's heart sank in her chest, heavy and suffocating.

Oh, no…It couldn't be?

Swallowing down rising bile, she took several struggling deep breaths not knowing if she had enough courage to open the door. She seemed to have frozen on the spot as if someone had petrified her. But she knew her nerves were not cooperating with this new, unexpected visit.

What seemed like too long had ticked by, she reached for the door, tapped the lock with her wand, and slowly pulled it open.

Narcissa Malfoy – her little sister – was standing on her doorstep. Wearing a black cloak and a hood that concealed most of her face, her familiar deep brown eyes gleamed beyond its shadows causing Andromeda to remain rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her estranged sister, one who had been out of her life for years, was currently standing and shivering on her porch, with her cloak wrapped comfortingly around her.

Andromeda felt a small panic rising within, "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Narcissa looked just as equally shocked as her sister before her. The woman appeared in two minds, and deep behind those familiar brown orbs, she felt that even she was conflicted in her appearance, "You didn't respond, and I grew worried – "

" – Worried?! You've assisted the greatest sorcerer of all time, who aided in the murder of most of my family, among others, and now you are worried? Have you finally gone barking mad?!" Andromeda's face suddenly grew hot with her own seething anger.

Her sister looked around her anxiously, until her gaze dropped to her own nervously twisting hands, "M-may I come inside? I'd rather not have this conversation in earshot from the neighbors."

Andromeda clenched her jaw, not liking the idea of bringing her estranged sister into her home when her grandson was present. But she knew this discussion would not come lightly and barking murderous filth was not going to win her any favors with the Muggle locals. Frowning as her breaths grew shallow, she silently stepped aside and allowed her sister to walk through her door. Automatically she felt a foreign intrusion into her space and her hand twitched with her wand within her grasp as the pair wandered into the kitchen.

Closing the front door behind her, Andromeda turned to her sister with her voice lowered, "You didn't answer me. Why are you here?"

Narcissa gently lowered her hood, revealing her familiar long blonde hair pinned up behind with a silver ornate clip embedded with emeralds. Her face was hardened with worry and loneliness. Her features were less sharp than that of Andromeda and Bellatrix, but she retained her proud demeanor with her head still held high knowing full well she could see straight through that. Without her husband Lucius to dictate her privileged life, the woman seemed now at a strange loss, and she lacked the power and influence she once had.

"I'm honestly not certain. I saw you that day at Diagon Alley, and well…I admit I had thought about you often since…" Narcissa spoke quietly.

Andromeda simply hmphed and crossed her arms over her chest like their mother used to do when she tried to coax the truth out of them in their youth. Andromeda was slightly taller, so it seemed to have some effect, "And not before? Oh, I apologize for plaguing your thoughts so suddenly, Cissa."

"I've always thought about you, my dear, sweet sister – "

" - Don't you dare say such things. You are no sister of mine, " Andromeda hissed, feeling the fury begin to bubble within her chest.

Narcissa heaved a painful breath, feeling the invisible blow so suddenly, "I-I just wanted to reach out…I just thought – "

" – Thought what? That we can all simply forgive and forget? You know that cannot be possible."

Narcissa glanced hopefully at her sister, "No…I just, I don't know…"

Andromeda frowned, seething, "Tell me, did you ever think of me when Bella was barking orders in your face? Did you ever think of me, when Bella was casting hopeful sentiments within your ears, convincing you that it was all worth it?"

"No, but – "

But something within Andromeda snapped, " - She murdered my daughter, Cissa! She killed my beautiful girl…All for what? To turn her loyalty into a filthy obsession, kissing the hem of the robes of the darkest wizard of all time? Tell me, Cissa…Did you feel anything for my daughter's death? Your niece? Never mind, you never knew her, right?! What if it were I that she slaughtered? Would you feel sadness? Guilt? Anything?!"

"- I – I –"

Andromeda's lips quivered in fury, "You never realized the full extent of our suffering. You lived under Voldemort's good graces for years, blissfully unaware of the damage he caused in his wake beyond your precious little pristine bubble. To your own family! Bella turned psychotic and you still took her side over mine. You chose darkness, over me."

"- I didn't – "

"Our family became horribly divided over prejudice, and blood purity, and power, and wealth…That we forgot what it meant to be a family. Together. To love each other, as it should be. Not…Not what it's been…Not this…"

A tear fell upon Narcissa's pale cheek, leaving a dull makeup trail in her wake, "I didn't mean for this to end this way! I was a fool, I know that now, Annie! I know – I know it was all terrible…But I was…afraid…I went in too deep with it all, and I was afraid to leave…I didn't want him murdering my husband…my son…"

"And yet my daughter and husband were taken instead. Hell of a price!" Andromeda looked disgusted, "You could have left. You could have taken Draco with you!"

"And leave Lucius? You know I couldn't. I love my husband! Voldemort could have killed us all - "

Andromeda scoffed under her breath, " - And yet you all cast me away all those years ago when I refused to leave Edward. What makes Lucius far better than him? Blood purity? What a vile mentality, Cissa. I didn't choose to rule with my husband to assist in the downfall of half the magical community. I didn't participate in genocide, or aid in the passing of information enabling the death of another, or harboring innocent people in my own home."

Narcissa glanced pleadingly at her sister, "I'm sorry, Annie! What else do you require from me? I cannot erase the past…I wish I could change it….Oh, I wish I could! We both cannot, and now we have to live with the consequences."

Andromeda scowled and lowered her voice almost menacingly. And for a moment, she reminded herself of her own mother, "We? We?! How dare you. How dare you ask us to live with the consequences when most of what we lost had everything to do with your precious Dark Lord! The savage sorcerer your dear husband kissed the feet of since his return. The consequences of his reign affected us far more than it did for you. And for what? What did you gain from all of it?"

There was a sharp silence and Narcissa choked back a sob, "….Nothing, sister. I gained nothing. It's just my son and I now. There is nothing else."

Andromeda leaned forward against the kitchen chair, gripping the edge as hard as her whitened knuckles would allow. Her breaths were heavy and worn. She was exhausted and spent, as her head was spinning from all the pent-up emotions that had exploded within the last ten minutes. She wanted to burst into tears, but she felt so hollow and numb. She did not know what to do. She had often pondered curiously on this confrontation for years and now, she had only wished it never happened. Eventually, she looked back at her younger sister, chest feeling as if a heavy stone rested upon it, "…Where do we go from here?"

Narcissa shook her head, and cast her eyes away shamefully, "I wish I knew. I know you could never forgive me, but I miss you, Annie. I'm so deeply sorry for the loss of your husband and daughter. I could never imagine…I'm sorry…So sorry…"

"…Gramma?" Both sisters were in such a heated discussion, that neither of them had noticed the young child blinking in curiosity at the confrontation by the door.

Narcissa's eyes widened in a mixture of guilt and fear, "…Is that…?"

Feeling tearful, Andromeda turned to her grandson, "Teddy, sweetheart, stay in the living room. I'll see you there in a moment."

Teddy stood to the spot, not moving an inch, "But – "

" – Now, please. We'll finish the story shortly."

Once Teddy's patter of feet soon disappeared into the next room, Narcissa turned away and buried her head within her hands. Her stringy unkempt blonde locks hung in curtains over her face as her body shook with each explosion of wailing grief.

The middle sister stared, shattered, at her little sister. Her own heart-tugging so desperately at the corners, unsure of how else to handle this situation. All that could be heard within the silence were the dismal cries of someone so broken before her.

Her sister.

Still, her flesh and blood.

When Andromeda could bear the silence no more, she took a few steps towards her sister and placed a shaking pale hand on her shoulder. Her voice wavered and trembled, " - Cissy - "

Narcissa's body shook with another sob when she finally turned and buried her head within Andromeda's shoulder. Tears soaked her brunette locks, as she cried harder. Andromeda could no longer hold back her own tears, as her anger finally dissipated and was replaced with an aching sorrow. They grasped each other for dear life, clutching so tightly over a bond that had been shattered and left unrepaired for far too long.

" – I'm sorry…I'm so sorry – " Narcissa cried into her sister's shoulder in a desperate mantra, her voice muffled and hoarse. "You can continue to hate me…I will understand…But I just wanted to see you again. That is all. I did not come here expecting forgiveness, because it is simply not possible for me. It would be cruel of me to expect that of you."

Andromeda kissed her sister's forehead tenderly not knowing when she'd ever be able to do that again, and held her at arm's length, "Cissa – "

Narcissa eventually pulled completely away, hastily brushing the messy tears from her cheeks. She shook her head wildly, "I'm so sorry. This is a mistake…I cannot ask this of you. I just wanted to see you, and I did…I'm too ashamed…I cannot…I'm sorry…" A last hopeless look at her older sister and Narcissa gave another heartbroken sob and raced out of the front door losing all strength to continue facing her sister after all they had done to further divide the family.

Andromeda stared at the door, which had just slammed closed, and clasped a shaking hand to her mouth, upset and distraught.

"It's okay, Gramma. I'll stay with you."

Andromeda broke into uncontrollable sobs, as she felt tiny hands wrap around her waist.

February 28th, 2002

[Harry Potter]

Harry awoke that morning in a foul mood.

He barely got a wink of sleep that night, and he already had a busy day planned thus he hated the day before it really began. Ginny had told him how restless he had been overnight and allowed him to stay in bed for as long as he needed to as she left to visit her family that morning and run a few additional errands. Reluctantly, Harry didn't want to be lazy but realized how tense his body was, however resting might actually do him wonders.

The day was unusually sunny, and he knew spring was just around the corner. He was silently thankful for the snow finally dissipating and he looked forward to the warmer days ahead. There was only enough snow he could tolerate, but at least the upcoming warmer months would help him feel a little more productive in his day and less moping around feeling sorry for himself.

Once he finally had enough of staying in bed, he pulled himself up and dragged his sore body into the shower to douse himself with well-needed hot water. The water was sometimes sensitive to his scar-riddled skin; however, it was no doubt a welcome relief to his aching muscles. Once he had cleaned himself up, he got dressed and threw on his navy coat to begrudgingly make his way to the Ministry to finalize a few more things with Minister Shacklebolt in preparation for Hogwarts in September.

He had been chipping away at a few more assignments that morning since he had been stuck in classes all week, but he was contacted by Kingsley via owl that morning to see him within his office. He was more than happy to dedicate some hours of his day to leaving his studies on pause for the time being. He had far too much on his mind and dreaming about the giant Wizarding chess pieces chasing him all over the board, whose pieces were causing the ground the crumble away into a dark abyss. It wasn't so much of a nightmare than it was an inconvenience to his attempt at a peaceful night's sleep but ending the dream walking through the cursed fire door and ending up crashing into Borgin and Burkes was not an ideal way to wake up.

Shrugging off his strange dream, he made a stop past the Burrow to utilize their Floo Network for the convenience of saving him on several apparitions. With his recent weariness, he was worried he was going to end up splinched one way or another, and he didn't fancy adding another scar to his already battered bodily portrait. The Potters were hesitant to register their home with the Floo Network these days, so they preferred to detour through the Burrow to reach their destinations. Harry felt far safer that way and he was always anxious about the prospect of an unwanted visitor making an appearance.

Bidding some quick greetings to Molly and Arthur, Harry dashed through the Floo Network and found himself rematerializing at the exit fireplaces in the arrivals corridor of the Ministry of Magic. Occasionally he would still receive some strange stares as if he shouldn't be there, but he hastily ignored them and made his way through the security threshold. Once he registered his wand as a visitor, he took the first elevator and rode the way to level one where the Minister of Magic's office was located, along with those who work within his direct command. Down the hall was Percy's office and on the other side, was Hermione's.

Smiling to himself, he was looking forward to paying her a visit and figured he'd make that stop just after his appointment with Kingsley. He checked into the reception desk and waited until the pin-striped-suited wizard sent the Minister a message using the method of charmed paper planes, which Harry had always found amusing. Within minutes, the large M-emblazoned door swung open, and Harry was granted access inside.

The familiar turquoise and silver-styled room was welcoming and very corporate. With Kingsley's own style, he ensured it suited to his taste. The large archway windows behind the Minister's desk were enchanted to display the cloudy blue sky outside, which had set Harry's perception off since he knew full well that they were well underground away from Muggle eyes. The Minister himself sat behind the large mahogany desk, leaning forward with his hands clasped before him, and a warm smile in his greeting.

"A pleasure to see you, Mr. Potter, " Kingsley lightly bowed his head, and motioned for Harry to take a seat before him.

Harry did so without protest and nodded in acknowledgment, "Same to you, sir."

"Congratulations on your new home, " Kingsley asked kindly, "Godric's Hollow is a wonderful choice."

"Oh, erm, thank you. Yeah, we thought so too, " Harry drew in a deep breath, "So, you wanted to see me?"

Kingsley smiled sincerely, "Of course. I have received the completed license for your apprenticeship this year – " The man retrieved a large beige envelope on his desk with a waxed Ministry seal on the back, and handed it to Harry, " - Before your official school year comes to an end, you must ensure you re-submit for your full teaching license."

Harry nodded, feeling a new well of anxious happiness bubble within him, "Definitely. Thanks, sir."

"Congratulations, Professor Potter, " Kingsley beamed, looking prouder than Harry had ever seen, "You worked extremely hard for it."

"I admit I'm a little nervous, but I'm really excited to pursue this, " Harry said, holding the envelope as if it were a delicate shard of glass. He still couldn't believe this was all happening.

"You're a natural, no doubt. You are well supported and we could not be any prouder to have you as a welcome addition to the school, " Kingsley's voice was definitely soothing to Harry's ears and it felt good to hear those words coming from him, "I must say I was rather shocked when you announced you'd abandon your ambition as an Auror to pursue teaching, but the more I thought about it, the more I feel you'll be best suited to teach the young ones."

Harry gave a half-laugh, "Yeah, I suppose I shocked myself. After Clearwell, this was the best decision."

"A wise decision, Harry."

"I'll leave that job to Ron, who seems to be doing that far better with it than I ever could."

"I wouldn't underestimate yourself, " Kingsley reassured, "But I understand your desire to move away from it all. For now, the Aurors have that job managed. You can rest easy."

Harry nodded, feeling far more relieved with his decision to abandon that old dream, "I'm glad. You've done well here. It's a shame the Ministry couldn't use you as Minister years ago."

Now it was Kingsley's turn to chuckle, "Now now, I doubt anyone would have been prepared enough to lead the Ministry during Voldemort's reign. We don't need another Cornelius Fudge."

"You are nowhere near what Fudge was, " Harry responded, "You spent years trying to pick up the pieces after he left."

"Voldemort's eventual downfall made that far easier, without Death Eaters taking their grimy hold on us, " Kingsley shrugged, as if it were no big deal, "However, one thing at a time. I am pleased with the progress so far in order to ensure the safety of our community. That will always be our first priority and to ensure we can prevent any future catastrophes."

Harry smiled fondly, "If only Dumbledore were here to see us now."

Kingsley shared the same elated smile, although there was a slight sadness within his gaze as he spoke, "This is what he would have wanted. A better world."

With a spark of blue in the air above the Minister's table, a letter materialized and fluttered down silently atop the desk, which seemed to be stacked high with papers. Harry inhaled deeply, "I best leave you to it then, Kingsley. Thank you for giving me this certificate in person. And for your support."

Kingsley beamed, "Always a pleasure, Harry. Miss Granger is currently present in her office, who would be delighted to see you."

Harry rose up from his head and nodded, "That is definitely my next stop."

Bidding the Minister farewell, Harry departed the office with a small spring in his step as he held the certificate with a sense of pride. Now, he would be able to teach. Officially, this time. This is what he had been working hard for. It was not his graduating certificate per se, but it was his permission to walk into Hogwarts as a Professor-in-training this time. Once the remainder of his assignments were done, then he can finally leave all the endless lectures and classroom hours behind and walk into his very own. It was indeed a surreal feeling, and all his challenging work for all these years had finally brought him to that moment.

He quite honestly hadn't felt that happy since he and Ginny got married and moved into their own home.

As Harry made his way down the corridor, he finally reached the door with an emblazed 'Hermione Granger – Assistant to the Minister' upon its marble ivory plaque. Smiling with relief, he knocked on the door several times until a familiar voice could be heard on the other side.

"Come in – "

Pushing the door open, he walked into the neat and sophisticated office to find his best friend at her desk, scribbling away quickly on a piece of parchment. Beside her, an enchanted quill was doing the same on a hovering roll of parchment, causing Harry's mind to buzz in curiosity. She could definitely multitask far better than he ever could.

Harry grinned, "How's the paperwork, Hermione?"

Within his familiar voice, Hermione's head suddenly jerked upwards, and looked up from her desk, face lighting up in surprise with the impromptu appearance of her best friend, "Harry!" She placed down her quill and strolled over to Harry, immediately enveloping him in a welcoming embrace, "Oh, it's really good to see you."

Harry pulled away from the hold after a few moments, ever so gently, "It's good to see you too, Hermione."

Hermione motioned to the chairs in front of her desk and both she and Harry took a seat beside each other, "I'm sorry we didn't stay long after Ginny's match. It's just been so hectic…"

He waved his hand dismissively, "It's fine, really. We were happy to have you both there, even despite how busy you've been."

Hermione bit her lip, looking slightly worn out and exhausted, "I know, but…"

"Ginny and I understand, " Harry reassured her with a smile, "So… How're things with you?"

"Oh, " Hermione gave a small shrug, but something else nagged at the corners of Harry's mind and yet he couldn't quite place it, "Same old, really. Ron and I are still looking for a place, but it's been difficult to find the time. Ron has been trying to ask for some time off, but they've been quite submerged within their current case."

Harry frowned, "What's it about?"

"He won't really tell me. He was only recently sworn to secrecy, " Hermione sighed, "I'm not mad at him for it, but it's his superior who has insisted he not tell anyone outside of their team. It's not his fault of course, but I can see the case has really, well, soured his mood."

Suddenly, Harry felt a sense of dread, "Are you and him? – "

" – We're both alright. I just…We don't spend a lot of time together as much as we'd hoped. Hence why we've been trying to find our own place, " Hermione smiled, weakly, "I just miss his company. I don't like the idea of going home to my parents and not seeing him for a few days at a time."

Harry nodded in understanding, "Why don't the two of you take some time off together? I'm sure Kingsley can make it happen for you."

Hermione paused for a moment, but she looked quite disheartened, "I can't abandon my post here, Harry. There is still so much to do – "

" – It's not permanent, Hermione. You will come back, just…Take some time off together. You both need it. Maybe Percy can step in for you in the meantime, " Harry trailed off, but he couldn't help but sense something else amiss. Instead, he lowered his voice, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Hermione's head jerked slightly to one side, caught a little off guard by the now extra personal question. She looked a little sad and Harry really wanted to know why – years of knowing her told him that much. Eventually, she nodded with a small smile, seemingly sensing his concern, "I know. We'll be fine, really. We just have a lot to work out still, that's all. It's been difficult for the both of us to make this work between our jobs."

"I get that."

Sighing deeply to herself, she shook her head, "Anyway, enough about me. How's everything with you? Kingsley told me you've been approved. Not that we had any doubts about it. It's so exciting, isn't it?!"

Harry hesitated at his friend's desire to quickly change the subject, but he respected it anyhow, "Oh, err, yeah. I'm kind of freaking out a little, but I'm sure it'll all work out. It'll help occupy my mind a little more than moping around at home, waiting."

Hermione's face fell, "…Oh." She glanced at Harry, sadly, "…The nightmares?"

He nodded bleakly, "Yeah. I just feel so bad for Ginny who has to put up with me, when I have them. And Teddy…"

"She understands. As do we, " Hermione tried to reassure quietly, "It's just not fair, you know? After what we've all been through, you especially…We are still trying to pick up the pieces."

Harry swallowed bitterly, "Yeah. We are all still a bit of a mess, aren't we? One day at a time, I guess."

Hermione gave a small smile, "One day at a time."