And I was catching my breath
Barefoot in the wildest winter
Catching my death
II. Lachesis (Andromeda)
As it turns out, a tiny house tucked away in Chesire, a ring on her finger and a life away from her family is not all it takes to make Andromeda happy.
As always in these situations, it never takes long for the guilt to start creeping in. As she watches Ted preparing her breakfast, smile radiant on his face as his cheeks grow redder than a cherry, she knows she should feel happy, and in way she does, but she still can't help that gnawing feeling of emptiness eating at her like a termite on a wooden chair.
She loves Ted, she truly does, and she knows he feels the same way. He doesn't need to remind her, though she'll never admit that she is fond of the moments he does, but it's clear. It's the way he looks at her as if she is worth the entire universe to him, the way he's always making sure that she's eaten before going to sleep, his ability to remember the smallest details about her, like how he always knows the temperature at which she likes her tea, and she pretends she doesn't fall for him a little bit more each time it happens.
It's something she has a hard time expressing, though. She's never considered herself to be the most eloquent of her sisters, but the small lump forming in her throat is suffocating her, and suddenly, it's as if all the words in the world have been ripped away from her, and she can only stare at Ted, speechless.
She's been awfully quiet, lately, and she knows it's something he's noticed. But Ted seems to understand her in a way almost no one has before, and while this isn't enough to hush away her fears, it's something she'll always be able to find comfort in.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Tonks," the Healer smiles at her, "It seems that you're with child."
Ted beams at her, "A baby," he tells her over and over that night, as if repeating it is a necessity for it to sink in, "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," she smiles at him, and he bends down to kiss her softly on the mouth. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, she allows herself not to worry about the war, about Bellatrix, or Voldemort. After all, she has a lifetime of fretting ahead of her. She can afford to let go- or do her best to try to- for a few hours.
It's not something that they've planned, still being newlyweds and in the middle of a war, and, even though she and Ted haven't been particularly on that level, it still comes as a complete shock to both of them. The decision to get married had been somewhat of a spur-of-the-moment situation, and neither of them starting a family at such a young age.
All it takes is a few more days for Andromeda to realize the situation she's in. She's pregnant. Expecting. With child. A tiny human is growing inside of her, part her and part-Ted, that she's gonna have to take care of, and who is gonna grow into its own person. A mother. She's going to be a mother.
But, how can Andromeda learn to be one, when hers had been nothing but nurturing to her?