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Tonks House, Somewhere in Southern England,
"Come on, Dora… breakfast's ready," Andromeda called, knocking gently on her daughter's bedroom door.
The door creaked open, and Nymphadora stepped out without saying a word. She puffed out her cheeks with an exaggerated "Humph…" and brushed right past her mother.
Andromeda let out a sigh. "Still in a mood, are we?"
"Why would I be sulking?" Nymphadora huffed, stomping down the stairs like a storm in slippers.
Andromeda shook her head, exasperated, then turned and followed her down to the dining table.
Breakfast was… quiet. Awkward, even. Nymphadora sat there absentmindedly stirring her porridge around the bowl, barely eating a bite, her eyes flicking now and then to the empty chair at the head of the table, where Edward Tonks, her father, used to sit, just two days ago.
Andromeda's state wasn't any better as she hadn't touched hers either. She sat in silence, the grief heavy in the room like a thick fog.
It hadn't even been three days since Ted's passing… and already, both mother and daughter were feeling the weight of his absence, the hollow stillness left behind by the one whose very presence had brought them comfort, warmth, and a quiet sense of security.
Looking at the distant, hollow look in her daughter's eyes made her heart ache. But Andromeda knew she couldn't let Dora get swallowed up in it, not now. Someone had to be the strong one.
Trying to shift the mood, she glanced at Nymphadora with a faint, knowing smile.
"Alright, pop quiz, Miss Tonks."
Nymphadora blinked, dragging her gaze away from the empty chair and glancing at her mum, still sulking, she questioned, "…What?"
Andromeda, masking the sadness in her eyes, leaned forward with her best mock-serious expression.
"Question one: What's round, sitting in a bowl, and flat-out refusing to be eaten this morning?"
Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "…Porridge."
Andromeda gave a solemn nod. "Correct. Question two: Who's got moussed-up hair, a grumpy face, and is clearly pretending not to be heartbroken?"
Nymphadora frowned, looking away and replied, "…Mum."
Andromeda raised an eyebrow. "Incorrect. The correct answer was 'me daughter, Nymphadora Tonks.' But we'll accept 'Mum' as a bonus point, for sass."
A reluctant snort escaped Nymphadora's lips. She half-laughed despite herself.
"…You're ridiculous."
Andromeda smiled gently. "And you're still not eating," she said, then added, "Come on… finish up, or you know what your dad would say…"
Nymphadora let out a soft chuckle, catching on to her mum's words. Then, in perfect unison, both of them echoed in a mock-serious tone, mimicking Ted's voice: "Wasting porridge is a crime punishable by tickles!"
They both paused, a bit surprised by their perfect timing. Then, without warning, Nymphadora let out a proper, genuine laugh—the first in two days.
Andromeda chuckled along with her, eyes misty but warm. "There she is," she murmured, reaching out to give her daughter's hand a gentle squeeze.
Nymphadora glanced down at her bowl and finally took a spoonful. "…Still cold," she remarked.
Andromeda pulled out her wand. "Well then, we'll sort that." She gave it a flick, and the porridge warmed instantly with a soft whoosh. "But if you think that earns you immunity from tickles…"
"Oi, Mum…!" Nymphadora called after her with a half-smile. "I'm sulking, remember?"
Andromeda glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. "And I'm your mother, remember? Sulking or not, you're fair game."
She paused for a beat, then lowered her wand and added, "Right—porridge's hot now. Go on, finish it up, love."
Nymphadora gave a small nod and quietly began eating her porridge. Seeing her daughter finally take a bite, Andromeda let out a soft sigh and picked up her own spoon, starting to eat as well.
They ate in silence for a while, until Nymphadora finally asked the question that had been hanging in the air.
"Mum… what are we going to do now?"
Andromeda's hand froze, spoon suspended mid-air. "What?"
Nymphadora kept her eyes on her bowl, slowly stirring the porridge as she spoke. "Dad's… gone now." Her voice was quiet, uncertain. "What are we going to do?"
She might've only just stepped into her teenage years two months ago, but that didn't mean Nymphadora didn't understand the state of their household. The breadwinner was gone… and at best, they had less than a dozen galleons in their savings.
Most of whatever her dad earned went straight into keeping them afloat. Their modest way of living wasn't some noble lifestyle choice; it was simply all they could manage.
And now… even that seemed uncertain.
Heck, she wasn't even sure if they'd be able to afford her robes and other course materials for the next year at Hogwarts. The letter hadn't arrived yet, but it was bound to turn up soon… and when it did, it'd bring a whole load of expenses they simply weren't ready for.
Nymphadora knew it. That's why she asked her mum.
Andromeda set her spoon down and forced a smile, trying to mask the worry in her eyes.
"Don't fret, love, we'll manage somehow," she said gently. "I'll try to find a job… and once that's sorted, everything'll fall into place, yeah?"
"You'll… find a job?" Nymphadora asked, a bit taken aback.
"Mm-hmm," Andromeda nodded. "I'll try reaching out to a few old acquaintances from my Hogwarts days. I'm sure something'll turn up."
She offered a small, reassuring smile. "So don't you go worrying about all this, yeah? Just focus on becoming the most brilliant little witch out there. Sound good?"
Nymphadora didn't question her mother. She simply nodded with a small smile. "Alright then… I'll become the most brilliant witch there is."
"That's my girl," Andromeda smiled, picking up her porridge again. "That's exactly what I want my little Dora to be…"
…
In the Night, Tonks' House,
"That boy… from the House of Black—Rigel Black, was it? What was he doing here, anyway?" asked Anna Williams, taking a sip of her Butterbeer. "Was it just to offer his condolences, or… was there something more to it?"
"It was just to offer condolences," Andromeda replied, lying through her teeth.
"Just that? Nothing else?" Anna asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
Andromeda recalled her conversation with Rigel—how he'd offered to solve all her and her daughter's problems in exchange for an Unbreakable Vow of servitude, and how she'd stood her ground and turned him away. Shaking off the memory, she gave Anna a small nod after a brief silence.
"Yeah… just that. He was only here to offer condolences," she said, taking a sip of her butterbeer.
"Quite unbelievable, coming from a Black…" Anna William muttered, clearly struggling to wrap her head around it. "I was properly worried, you know… Thought someone else from the Black lot might show up lookin' after we had left you, and Merlin knows what they'd do to you considering their bigotry."
She gave a weary sigh. "So I had to pop in, check on both of you, make sure you were all right…
Thankfully, turns out I was just fretting over nowt. Nothing happened, in the end."
She then turned to her husband, gave her arm a little tap, and asked, "Isn't that right, Drek? Lucky nothing kicked off here…"
Drek, looking a bit worse for wear from the drink, nodded slowly. "Yeah…" he mumbled, eyes turning a bit darker as they fixed on Andromeda. "Really, it's brilliant that nothing happened to you or Ted's daughter… I'm well chuffed, honestly…"
For some reason, Andromeda felt a bit uneasy under Drek's slightly intoxicated gaze. She crossed her arms, holding one with the other, and forced a smile as she nodded. "Yes…"
A brief silence settled over the three of them before Anna suddenly clapped her hands. "Anyway… Andromeda, tell me—have Dora's Hogwarts results turned up yet?"
Andromeda glanced at her and shook her head. "Not yet… They should be here any day now."
Anna hummed thoughtfully, then smiled. "She'll be going into her third year, yeah?"
Andromeda nodded. "Yep… Third year from now on."
Anna let out a wistful sigh. "Honestly… if I'd managed to have a child, they'd probably be in the same year by now…" She gave a small shrug. "Even though you and Ted, and Drek and I tied the knot on the same day… I never quite got the chance to be a mum. If that had happened…"
The atmosphere grew a bit tense and awkward… Andromeda wasn't sure what to say about Drek and Anna not having had a child, and Anna clearly regretted bringing it up in the first place.
Meanwhile, Drek seemed miles away, lost in his own thoughts, his gaze flicking up and down Andromeda's figure in silence.
Without warning, he set his half-finished can of beer down on the table and shoved his chair back with a loud screech. Both women looked up at him.
"Loo," he muttered gruffly, rising to his feet a bit unsteadily. Giving his stomach a light pat and letting out a grunt, he added, "Bladder's about to stage a full-blown rebellion."
With that, he shuffled off toward the hallway, waving a hand vaguely at the two women. "Don't fuss… I know my way. I'll manage." And disappeared down the corridor, leaving Anna and Andromeda watching him go.
Once he was out of sight, Andromeda gently turned to Anna. "Anna… there's something I need your help with," she said softly, "As soon as Dora's Hogwarts letter arrives, there'll be a load of expenses… and we just don't have enough galleons to cover it all. So I was hoping… maybe you could help me get a job at Leaky Cauldron?"
She looked at Anna with quiet hope. "Do you think that's possible?"
Caught off guard by the request, Anna hesitated. "I… I can put in a word," she said slowly, "but… I'm not sure they'd even consider it. And the pay's not great, mind you… not to mention, you'd also be working as a maid there… cleaning up and… and other stuff…"
Andromeda gave a small nod. "That's alright. Something's better than nothing."
Seeing the resolve in her friend's eyes, Anna nodded back. "Alright… I'll see what I can do. I'll have a word with Tom tomorrow."
…
Meanwhile, on Drek's end, after leaving the room, he slowly ambled toward the washroom… but came to a halt halfway as the staircase to the upper floor came into view.
He paused, staring at it… Then, at the corridor, it led to… and finally to the door visible just beyond the banister.
"Ted's daughter…" he muttered, a vague image of a little girl with mouse hair flickering in his mind—and before he even knew it, he'd climbed the stairs and was now standing right outside her door.
He stood before the closed door for a full minute… just staring at it before turning over the handle and opening as he stepped inside…
The candle inside had been snuffed out, leaving the room in darkness… but the light spilling in from the corridor through the open door was just enough to make things faintly visible.
In that dim glow, he saw a teenage girl asleep on the bed, a blanket pulled up over her.
"Ted's daughter…" he muttered again under his breath, step by step, making his way toward the bed.
He stared at her for a moment—the moonlight slipping through the curtains cast a pale glow over her white face.
He'd never really looked at the girl properly—never more than a few seconds.
He just couldn't bring himself to. He'd always glance away, afraid that his own hatred and jealousy might get the better of him.
But tonight, with the drink dulling his restraint, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Thoughts whirled round his head in a right muddle—himself, Andromeda, Edward, Anna…
Their first ride on the Hogwarts Express, the Sorting, the seven years they spent at school together… all of it leading up to two weddings on the same day.
And with it, all the regrets he'd carried ever since.
Lost in that spiral of thought, he hadn't even realised how long he'd been standing there, just staring at the girl's sleeping face.
Minutes ticked by before that same old scowl of contempt towards the girl crept back across his face.
Seeing a trace of Andromeda in the girl's features, that contempt curdled into something darker—something vile.
His hand slowly reached out toward her… fingers creeping forward, fuelled by a simmering intent.
"Ted's gone… no reason for his daughter to stick around either…" he muttered, barely above a whisper.
'Once she's gone… Andromeda would be free… nothing would hold her back…' he thought darkly as his hand wrapped around the girl's neck.
And then, slowly—firmly—he began to squeeze, choking her as she slept, unaware.
Before long, the girl began to gasp for air, her eyes snapping open in sheer panic.
She writhed beneath him, arms flailing as she tried to scream—but not a sound escaped her lips.
Her vision blurred.
Her limbs turned cold and useless, panic thundering in her chest as her lungs cried out for breath.
Tiny hands clawed helplessly at the rough, clammy fingers clamped around her throat, but it was no good—his grip was iron.
Bit by bit, the strength drained from her body, her struggle weakening with every second…
But Drek didn't pay her thrashing any mind. His face hovered just inches from hers, twisted into a grotesque mask of resentment and desperation.
Teeth clenched, breath ragged, he cursed in his head again and again: 'Die… die… just die… Why did someone like you have to be born? Why did you have to be Ted's daughter… Why couldn't it have been Andromeda…'
"Why… why didn't it turn out different…?" he muttered, his voice trembling with something far deeper than anger.
"Why couldn't it have been me…?"
Tears slipped from the corners of Nymphadora's eyes, her legs kicking weakly against the bedframe.
And then—
A voice.
Cold. Disbelieving. From behind him.
"Drek… what in Morgana's name are you doing here…?"
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