Happy New Year, folks !

So, I usually wouldn't have posted this as it is, but I'm afraid that if I don't get this out, I'll end up not posting anything for another year, so here we are, with the story going backwards before it goes forward again.

Summer of 1995 - soon after Andromeda learnt that her daughter was in contact with Sirius.

"Muuuum, Daaaad! Bollocks!"

The enthusiastic greeting-turned-curse was followed by the crash of metal into hard wood.

Nymphadora. That silver vase had been in that exact, well-lit, very visible, spot since Dora's ninth birthday. Neither Ted nor she struggled with limb coordination, so Andromada blamed the metamorphmagus magic for giving her whirlwind of a daughter the grace of a teenage boy suffering a massive growth spurt.

Nymphadora finally appeared, pink-haired and beaming, followed by a massive tail-wagging, tongue-lolling, black hound.

"Be warned, Mad-Eye will be furious." Eyes laughing and lips pinched in an attempt to stay serious, Nymphadora petted her 'friend'.

Andromeda would have cursed the beast for a Grim had it not been jumping around like an overjoyed retriever.

Then the hound became wizard. Haggard, his dark hair a tangled mess, his black robes dulled by overuse of cleaning charms.

That cheeky grin. Cousin Sirius.

A stunned giggle escaped her lips. Andromeda stumbled forward, her right hand not quite outstretched as if he'd vanish when touched, like a bad illusion.

Sirius grasped her into a hug. Briefly. He used to cling on purpose ('C'mon Meda, it's a Black thing, to be made of stone. We're freefolk, you and I').

"I'm so happy to see you," she whispered, breathing him in. He smelled of nothing, betraying skin and robes cleaned with charms.

Dread withered her smile. What was left of her Sirius? Were there any solid memories left behind that grin?

She straightened with forced lightness and led Sirius back outside, glad for the sun filtering through a haze of clouds. She and Ted had had days to plan this.

Her husband had wrapped his arm around Nymphadora. "Mixed loyalties must suck. We're proud of you, kid."

Nymphadora shrugged, cheeks pink. "No reason you can't all get what you want."

Something warm, and a little smug, melted away some of Andromeda's nervousness. It was nice to see their daughter still eager to please them, with all this warrior for good business.

"We've acquired a magic carpet, Cousin," she said brightly. "Would you care to try it?" Mending the past could wait and Sirius looked starved for joy.

Two hours later, hair and robes soaked after her very own Hufflepuff daughter had treacherously undone Andromeda's instant-drying enchantments, Andromeda found herself aiming conjured water bombs a little too gleefully at her hollering and increasingly naked cousin (he'd always been better at transfigurations than conjurations, and never shy about transfiguring his own clothes whenever he figured it would give him an edge).

Sirius, barefoot but flying triumphant over her poor earthbound Ted, tangled in a net-that-was-once-a-boot, suddenly froze. A blast of fire-magic seared towards the ground at something only Sirius could see.

Andromeda's long-sight spell revealed a charred field mouse. Lips pursed, she landed in the wet grass, letting her broom drop to the ground.

A deafening chorus of songbirds chirped with her every stride (Sirius clearly hadn't lost his encyclopedic memory for the most absurd prank-curses). By the time she'd dried herself and dispelled the bloody thing, her concern had melted into a silly smile: Sirius was attempting handstands on the magical afghan, now floating at knee-height.

"Sorry, issues with rats," he said, head upside down. "No pet of yours, was it?"

"I still can't believe they didn't listen to you enough to-." Andromeda bit her tongue. Today she'd just meant to create new happy memories. She'd not expected it to be this hard.

"Moody came," Sirius said, his voice suddenly flat as he fell seated on the unmoving carpet. "Dementors had been feeding off me for three months by then… I kept seeing James and Lily's blown apart corpses… Can't remember any of it, but Moody showed me the memory. I… I looked like a madman, Andromeda." When had Sirius ever called her 'Andromeda'? "I kept saying I'd killed them. Kept saying I fucked up. I cursed Wormtail too, but nothing Mad-Eye could've used. I barely managed a full sentence. I'm not sure I hadn't taken Moody for some new delusion."

Why would he make excuses for - "If they'd taken you out of Azkaban for a couple of days before having that conversation, you'd have been coherent."

Sirius shrugged, something dull and terrifying in his eyes. "It's done, I'm out. I just want to move on."

Move on? When the Order now controlled his every-

"Where are you living?" Ted intervened.

Sirius grimaced. "Can't tell you."

Still a prisoner. Andromeda's magic stirred, fed by her fury. "Come live with us, Cousin. We'll keep you safe. Please."

A hand touched her stiff shoulder. Nymphadora leaned onto her, shame coloring her cheeks. "You can't, he has to stay…"

"And were you told why?" Andromeda snapped. "Don't tell me it's for his own good."

"Moody said that with a blood tracker Narcissa Malfoy could find him easily. Mum, the Malfoys, You Know Who... they've got dozens of reasons to want to bag him."

Andromeda grimaced. It felt off, Nymphadora explaining to her what her sister would do. And besides. "We can hide him behind wards strong enough -"

Something large and purple appeared at the edge of her vision. The warded edge of her vision.

Her sentry spells sat dead, as if they didn't exist at all.

Albus Dumbledore, looking faintly pained, walked up to her, his long sleeves rolled up, his empty hands casually on display.

Andromeda didn't lower the wand she'd whipped out by reflex. It was a matter of principle. And it gave her something to hold while anger and, worse, fear (because could a mistake that glaring, that cruel truly have been a mistake?) stole her eloquence.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Nymphadora stammered. "Only-"

"You're not sorry," Andromeda hissed. "Don't make yourself small for him. He should be sorry."

Ted's hand settled against her lower back. Andromeda snapped her mouth shut.

Nymphadora straightened, a new clench to her jaw that was strikingly reminiscent of Alastor Moody. "I meant sorry for the secrecy and not giving you the benefit of the doubt, Sir."

"What are you on about?" Sirius loudly interjected, draping an arm around Nymphadora. "I escaped to see Andromeda. You tracked me down, you awesome auror, you." He winked at her and Ted. "I escaped Azkaban, you know?"

It was all there, the grin, the bluster. Andromeda's anger ebbed away slightly, her lips twitching. She wanted to cry.

"May I have a word, Mrs. Tonks?"

"You can talk to me and Edward both. He's my husband, not my muggle valet."

Dumbledore flinched and to be fair, Andromeda was being spectacularly snide. But she'd left it all behind, all those years ago, precisely so she would never again have to pretend abominable behavior was normal. After everything, how could Dumbledore demand anything of Sirius?

"You raised a remarkable young woman."

"You don't have to blow smoke up our arses," Ted said with a tight-lipped, unthreatening smile. "Why are you restraining Sirius' freedom, Professor?"

Thank you, Ted. Their feet falling in sync as they walked along the empty field between their home and a forgotten country road that hadn't seen more than a handful of vehicles a week since coal mining's glory days.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long time.

"I was convinced the Potters would have told me had they changed their Secret Keeper. I checked Sirius for mind-altering spells and compulsions, there was no indication he'd not been himself… After Alastor talked to him, I was convinced."

Unbelievable. "How could you be convinced that Sirius would kill James Potter?"

"Sirius had proven he could be cruel," Dumbledore said tiredly. "He killed many. He defied Alastor constantly, so certain he knew what had to be done. He kept encouraging James to leave Godric's Hollow despite-"

"Not he alone. James and Lily were just as insubordinate." Those big-hearted brash barely-more-than-kids, always one step ahead of the Order, as lucky as they were brilliant, until Voldemort decided they had to die.

Dumbledore's missed step was the only tell of his annoyance at the interruption. The genuine regret on his face sapped made her want to slap him. He had too many responsibilities to mess up so badly. "I made the mistake of believing the best of a man like that once. I believed he would not turn on those he professed to care for. That I could afford to overlook how he treated his enemies… I am used to being right. I very usually am. This has been quite humbling."

This mea culpa was getting embarrassing. "Why are you keeping him prisoner now?" Andromeda said tightly. She was trying, trying, to keep her voice soft and controlled like the warlock did seemingly so effortlessly. "I'll swear any vow you choose, just tell me the truth, Mr. Dumbledore. Because as things stand, I will break him free. I stayed docile last time. It cost me my cousin. I won't let my cowardice destroy what's left of him."

Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows slowly rose. "Very well." He wasn't all that taller than her, but she suddenly felt eleven again.

Bound. By Albus Dumbledore. She might as well have sworn herself to an Unbreakable. But she had to know.

She and Ted stood next to a wind-bent young oak as Albus Dumbledore and his wand hummed an indecipherable spellsong.

As pale yellow wisps brushed her arms like dancing ribbons, Andromeda realized she didn't have the slightest clue what magic she'd let melt into her body and blood.

A shiver ran down her spine and she had to remind herself that Albus Dumbledore was good.

"We are using a Fidelius charm to protect the location of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The location we chose is a fortress of dark wards."

Andromeda frowned. The Fidelius was a… voracious charm, for lack of a better word. It had been designed to hide a place from all but a handful of people. Headquarters suggested dozens in the know. The Keeper, or the place itself, could be drained into dust by the spell if -

"We lost too many people to lesser wards during the last war," Dumbledore said with sudden harshness. "I won't repeat the same mistakes."

"What does this have to do with Sirius?" she whispered.

"Sirius is Lord Black."

True, but what had that to do with any 'fortress of dark -' Andromeda blinked. Lord Black controlled Grimmauld Place's manor. Uncle Orion had spent half his life perfecting blood wards-

Andromeda blinked again.

Grimmauld Place was the Headquar- Andromeda gasped as a spearing headache forced her eyes shut.

"Choosing to dwell on it will be debilitating," Dumbledore said, his arm reaching out to steady her.

Shivering now, Andromeda let thought go, focusing on the essential.

The house was steeped in enough magic (and Dumbledore was powerful enough) to anchor a Fidelius revealed to dozens of mages. Sirius had to stay house-bound, or the Fidelius would feed off the wards, or the blood wards attack the Fidelius. And the spell would unravel.

Ted had silently come to the same conclusion. "You're going to squeeze every last sacrifice out of-"

"Thanks to Mr. Black, we have a safehouse that is nigh impregnable. It's just for a time. I and others have been improving the Fidelius and altering the wards to make the Lord Black's presence unnecessary. After this, he'll have as much as he wants. I owe him. I've told him as much."

Just for a time. Andromeda knew enough about spell crafting to know it could take years. Her throat felt swollen shut. "How much time can we have?" she croaked.

"Outside the house, nothing. This half-day is already upsetting the fragile balance we have. "

Andromeda instinctively stepped back. Dumbledore's tone was nothing but mild but suddenly she recognized it. That crafted calm born of occlumency.

Albus Dumbledore was straining.

"I hadn't dared experiment," Dumbledore continued airily, a slight smile dancing on his lips. As if it all was of little consequence. "But I must thank you and your daughter for helping me better understand what we're working with."

Yes. Stretching the boundaries of known magic. While risking his health and magic.

"Would you allow us in the house?" Ted said with a frown. "We could -"


Andromeda opened her mouth to argue but one look at the old wizard's expression and she knew no words would sway him. What did she matter to this man who'd buried hundreds in two terrible wars and had steeled himself to fight another for a country that had dismissed him for a senile liar?

She willed herself to stand taller. Her voice stronger. "Can we be of assistance?"

Dumbledore gave her a tight-lipped smile, as if they were sharing a burden. Andromeda wanted to hate him, but in truth, she hated Lord Voldemort and those weak and vile enough to follow him.

"Of course. If you were to make portkeys and magic detectors, it would free time for our people to work on the Fidelius charm. Mrs. Tonks, do trust that I don't want my people's safety dependent on Mr. Black. By next summer, I expect he'll be free to leave."

Next summer. Less than a year. Fool that she was, Andromeda accepted to bide her time.

Nymphadora's flat was a hastily spelled clean den (there was no other word), with walls covered in paintings, photographs, old maps and a myriad of mismatched things that Nymphadora found pretty. Clothes were strewn in a pile in the open closet and kitchenware was piled in a way that literally defied gravity in the overflowing cupboard.

Andromeda did not point out that it took more effort to enchant fifteen pieces of kitchenware to have featherweight than to cast a neat stacking spell, or just enlarge the bloody cupboard. Nymphadora had no shame, letting them see her house in this state.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Andromeda had spent her early twenties learning every household spell under the sun and inventing some for good measure. She'd tasted her own helplessness after Hogwarts and a childhood catered to by her parents' house elf and she'd decided she'd be… better. No guest of hers would have a reason to look down on her.

Nymphadora had much less to prove.

"You done with the inspection, Ma? Dad wants to make his announcement."

Nymphadora was grinning, the little monster.

Andromeda surrendered and sat down on the sofa. Well, the pile of no less than four colorful throws between her and the sofa. She bit back a sigh.

"Quite," Ted said, letting himself fall next to her with a teasing smile. "Nice throws, Dora. Where did you buy them?"

Andromeda slapped his leg, eager to learn what he'd been up to in the last week. He'd came home all puffed up last night, like a (ravenclaw) boy who'd been given a key to a secret library.

Ted laughed before clearing his throat. "Since we're not hopping off some tropical paradise and I'm of the wrong blood, I've decided to up my game. I've hired Ian Redclove, he trains healers at Saint Mungo's."

A healer. Of course, it would be wise to learn. Andromeda's shoulders slumped.

With the extra warding they'd been doing and assisting Dumbledore… Their Moon project would be left at a standstill.

"Mum, you can't keep stopping Dad -"

Andromeda realized she'd been making a face. "I'm not-"

"She's never stopped me," Ted cut in, a rare sternness to his tone. "I know I appear less… willful than your mother but I was the one who insisted we stay out of politics and the war."

Nymphadora blinked. "What really?

'I refuse to die on the front lines fighting for a world where muggleborn are just discriminated against instead of flat out killed," Ted had ground out, almost twenty years before. "We'll stay here and help people escape. Portkeys, wards... I owe Nymphadora a father more than I owe anyone else."

"You wanted to go abroad." Andromeda recalled. "I refused to leave England."

For no real reason except familiarity and pride. It was her country. They could disown her but she would never leave.

"I was angry," Ted admitted. "That's why I flirted with you despite the danger. I wanted to prove I could get the Noble and Ancient dark chick".

Andromeda's eyes crinkled. "The secrecy was hot."

"Very hot. And you turned out to be more than a trophy."

Nymphadora groaned. "Get back on topic!"

"I was convinced, and in truth I still am, that it is better to help muggleborn to emigrate," Ted said, his smile gone. "I've always fancied myself a realist. I don't believe outsiders can change a system."

"You're not an outsi -"

"Dora I am," Ted cut in gently, his jaw tense from an anger too rooted to ever leave. "But I'm going to learn emergency healing, because there's a chance my idealistic daughter is right." And she'll be in danger even if she isn't, neither of them said.

"Perfect." Dora said a little too brightly after a pause. Her eyes were shining. "Now, Mum, how about you? No more of this 'I'm a dark witch', nonsense ! Severus Sodding Snape is one of us! You could go talk to the scared dark purebloods who have barricaded themselves in their homes. Convince them we're trustworthy!"

'You could go talk to the dark purebloods.' How could something said so eagerly fill Andromeda with such bitterness?

"Is that brilliant suggestion Moody's?"

Dora could change her face and body, but she was such a lousy liar.

"No." Andromeda said, fury clenching her hands. "No! Because even you, my own daughter, only see me as an envoy to dark purebloods. Someone other, someone who could never truly be one of you."

"Mum, that's not fair. That's not true, we'd welcome-"

"Stop lying to her, Meda." Ted said with a tired sigh.

Andromeda flinched.

"I gave your mother a hard time after she accepted to go on a mission for the Order," Ted continued. "You were 6. When she decided she didn't want to have anything to do with them after that, I said 'I told you so.'"

"What ? Moody never said -"

"It's complicated." Andromeda said mirthlessly. "It wasn't for the Order, Edward."

Her husband rolled his eyes at the use of his full name. "It was, they just didn't tell you until it was too late. Nor did they apologize."

Alastor had in his way. Not directly, he wouldn't, but Andromeda understood.

"Sirius had been captured by Death Eaters," Andromeda whispered. "I had to do something. It... it happened over a year after the Potters had cast their Fidelius Charm, cutting them off from almost everybody."

And she'd been curious, perhaps desperate.

Ted squeezed her hand.

1981 - a few days after Andromeda learned of Sirius' capture.

Andromeda, in desperation, had sent a letter. This time, the first time in years, it had been opened and read.

'Please give me back Sirius. You know all he can tell you by now. I hear Meadowes broke something of yours. I've found you a replacement. Pay back for the day you helped me."

The replacement was a Thunderbird. You couldn't find any broom of even half that caliber in the Isles anymore. Order of the Phoenix, Ministry, Death Eaters... they now valued their brooms as much as their people (and, especially for the latter, sometimes more). The broom was tucked in Andromeda's most warded pocket.

The meeting place was the cinema they'd seen the movie Cromwell at, all those years ago. She'd been so giddy, dragging Cissy and Bella here, trying to make them see. They'd had a surprisingly good time. Not that they'd seen. They'd never cared to.

Two flares, a thick runed rod and a thinner one, were cool against Andromeda's sweating palm. She knocked herself out with potions the night before, aware she'd be of no use after another sleepless night. She'd not told Alastor Moody where she was going, but she and Ted had run the plan by him. They'd had to. That wizard… didn't quite trust her abilities, which rankled less than it might, coming from him. As for her judgment and morals, that Moody trusted even less, but he was a cool-headed beast in a crisis and he'd come to their help, no questions asked when Rosier (incredible how invisible she'd been to them all as a girl, and suddenly, now, they just couldn't put her out of their minds) had unleashed fiendfyre on their home.

Andromeda sucked in a breath, catching herself. Their old home. It was a thing, not a person. It shouldn't hurt this much.

That shrieking, otherwordly inferno, tearing down their house. She, Ted and Nymphadore, locked in, their wards battered, unable to send word outside.

Andromeda had panicked. She'd called Bean. And the impossible had happened.

Those Death Eaters, as flighty as they'd been fearsome, flailing when the dark fire predictably turned against them. Sirius, James Potter and Moody, showing up against all hope.

And then her. As if they'd stayed sisters all along.

So here Andromeda was, hoping for... Morgana, even her thoughts were smoke where Bella was concerned, and counting on Moody to show up if she broke the smaller flare, the distress flare, he'd given her.

No, he would come. Alastor Moody was the kind of man who'd come back a ghost to honor his word. Whatever house he'd sorted in, he now was a cynical, ruthless, unrelenting, Hufflepuff.

And Andromeda wasn't yet thirty, and no auror. And she had a child. And Bellatrix - Morgana's too tight knickers, Andromeda was out of her mind. Sirius, you sodding hero, you'd better be alive!

In the darkness, the closed down cinema was a cold, lonely block of brick and cement. The anti-muggle charms Andromeda had doused the surrounding streets in had sent scrambling the few unfortunates huddling under blankets against the empty building.

Two minutes to time. Whispered detection spells bled off her lips and she grasped her wand tighter (any tighter, her bones might snap).

Desperate to pass the seconds, she focused on her protections. Brycin wouldn't forgive her if she didn't come back with some intel on the Orders' best flares. Moody had said to set up the bigger one, and activate it before Bellatrix arrived. 'A protective dome, Tonks, unfurling like a ship's sails, powered by explosives wrought into live-saving magical wind.' It would give her a handful of extra seconds to get shields up if her sister cast something nasty.

The thick flare was set, just like Moody said. Would it be enough if -. Ha, when her sister would inevitably -

Andromeda forced a breath into her thundering chest, images of her little girl invading her mind unbidden. Nymphadora -.

Why was Sirius suddenly more important than her own child?

Andromeda grit her teeth, annoyed at herself.

Straighten up your spine, Meda, you're here now. It won't kill you to be brave for someone else's sake for once.

Andromeda's frown dug into her skin as her charms soaked the thick blue rod. The flares and fireworks Brycin sold weren't war-grade or all that advanced, but they were solid. She'd taught Andromeda the principles, magical and chemical, of all known kinds of explosives.

So why such a massive explosive charge in such a thin wrapping of enchantments? How could such an object do what Moody -

A shadow blotted out a nearby lamppost. Cloaked but unmasked. Her steps unapologetically loud against the pavement.

Fearless, swift, feminine. Familiar.


It felt like years, even if Andromeda's last glimpse hadn't been so long ago. Flames engulfing the home she'd made with Ted. Bellatrix coming to her rescue, doing what James and Sirius and Moody hadn't quite managed to do. And then vanishing, with him. As if it was only natural to almost murder Rosier for attacking her, after all this time, but still leave at the Dark Lord's arm.

Bellatrix's dark eyes were laughing, her smile feral. "Wondered when you'd realize being part of the story's more fun than reading it." There was a challenge in her tone, but no threat.

Not yet.

Stupid, giddy hope slowly filled Andromeda's chest.

Bellatrix's wand was in her hand but she held it loose. She'd yet to cast.

So why were the flares enchantments' unraveling -

It crashed into Andromeda like a wave of ice water. Moody had lied.

"Bel- Evanesco !"

A soundless explosion blasted Andromeda backwards. Cursed shards sliced into her shields and her skin. Bellatrix roared in betrayal.

Screaming, in dismay as much as in pain, Andromeda disapparated home.

The next minutes or so were a blur. Ted desperately asking questions and Andromeda gasping for air, unable to so much as scream. She had never been so wretchedly furious in her entire life. Moody's shields had been perfectly tailored to his murderous flares, the curse had barely brushed her. She was fine.

When Moody appeared, he took one look at her and set his jaw, his shoulders slumping. "You didn't go through with it. Shame."

Andromeda threw the Thunderbird at the auror's feet. "Never ask me for anything, ever again."

"You were the one with the best chance of surviving the encounter and to get her to lower her guard!" Moody growled. "She's his second. If she falls -"

"You don't get to trick me into murdering my sister!"

"Wake up, Tonks! Everyone she's killed is somebody's sister! She tortured the Prewetts to death! Figured deceiving you would be a mercy, you'd blame us instead of carrying the guilt."

A mercy. Andromeda had no words. "Find yourself another assassin. Get out of my -"

Moody didn't even flinch. "Black is saved."

Ted was the one who put the pieces together first.

"Meda was to draw Bellatrix away while you rescued him?"

"Yes. Just like Potter drew the Dark Lord away." Moody grimaced. "Foolish risk, considering, but there was no point in trying to stop him."

A decoy. Andromeda swallowed down some of her fury. She'd have her revenge, later.

They'd rescued Sirius.

"You'll take me to him."

1995 -

"Bellatrix tortured the Longbottoms five months later," Andromeda breathed, blinking tears out of her eyes.

And in those five months Bellatrix had… Andromeda didn't want to dwell on the war, on the choices she'd made and not made. She looked forward. She'd always looked forward, ever since she'd been a little girl. When she'd had little to look forward to, she'd read, until the things she didn't want to think about were buried deep.

Nymphadora put her head in her hands, a low groan leaving her lungs. "I'm not going to hate you because you couldn't kill your evil sister. Shit, I haven't killed anybody." She laughed weakly, a slow, long, slightly hysterical sound.

Nymphadora had laughed the same laugh, at eleven years old, Andromeda had had to tell her about the Malfoys, about Narcissa. To not leave her helpless when she'd share a castle with those who'd delight to prey on the disowned half-blood Black.

"I didn't see the point in telling you earlier," Andromeda whispered.

"Mum! What are you waiting for? I know your past is messy and I know you're not some grand hero, but here I am trying to win a war ! I could use some wisdom. Or at least the truth!"

Andromeda wasn't quite sure when the seven year old who'd screamed through nightmares of burning houses and begged them to never, ever, put themselves in danger anymore, had become this big-hearted determined (pink-haired) woman.

"The dark oldbloods repulse me and yet I'm seen as one of them." Andromeda hated to spell it out. She hated to spell it out to her daughter even more. "Had Sirius not been a Black they'd not have been so quick to believe him guilty. "

Nymphadora sucked in a slow breath, unusually silent. "So…why do I remember Moody coming around and giving me those huge lollies after the war? When did you forgive him ?"

"When Dumbledore told me you'd been accepted into Hogwarts, I decided it would be foolish to deny you contacts among well-connected wizards. I used his guilt."

"Cut it out, Mum, you like each other. At least, he likes that you don't mind that he's intense, and that he always leaves your place with a new spell in his pocket."

They did? Andromeda frowned, yes, maybe she did like Alastor Moody. She smiled.

"I admire that he's committed, body and soul, to bettering England. I like that he's not figured out a way to do that that doesn't involve dark arts, killing people and having nightmares."

"Whoa, Mum."

"Too much honesty?" Andromeda said innocently. "Gryffindors that make it sound that goodness is simple tick me off."

Andromeda ducked the tickling hex her daughter shot her way.

Next chapter will be mostly Nymphadora centered, because she was always meant to have one but the time never seemed right. As we reach the resolution of the main story (with the squad going off to heal the Longbottoms) it was always my plan to remove the layers that make it a momentuous occasion.

The Fire that destroyed Andromeda's home during the first war is the first chapter of my fic "Defiant Until the End" so I didn't want to rewrite it here.