by Faith Accompli.
Disclaimer: All characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling. The plot is my own. This story is an AU, where Tonks' abilities were apparent from birth and this causes marital problems for her parents. The story is also ongoing, not a one-chapter piece.
Notes: The highest this'll probably go is PG-13. No incest, no sex. Maybe a bit of violence later on. Now that I've driven you all away, on with the story.
"I don't know you anymore."
His words burned through her mind as she walked away from him. He didn't know her anymore because he didn't want to. She had been preoccupied with the baby. She hadn't been supportive enough of his needs, and he had turned to the bottle instead of to her.
A year ago she would have got down on her knees and begged for his forgiveness, but she couldn't do that any longer. Now she thought she finally understood her family, why they were the way they were. Blood called to blood, and the ties had awoken in her at last. She had a daughter of her own, and Nymphadora had to be protected at all costs.
"Why can't you be happy with what we have, 'Meda?"
Walking up the stairs slowly, avoiding the creaking step and making no sound as she went, Andromeda reached the tiny nursery that wasn't much larger than a linen closet. Nymphadora was still fast asleep -- had slept through the arguments of her parents, slept through her father smashing the gin-bottle and her mother kicking a hole in the kitchen door.
That was for the best; she wasn't quite ready yet. Digging in the tiny cupboard that held Nymphadora's clothes, Andromeda pulled out the parcel that had arrived in the post the day after her daughter's birth. There had been no return address, no outward sign of whom it had come from, but when she had opened it...
Ted had told her to burn the present, the soft wool blanket her mother had sent for the baby. It was black, it was an ill omen, a harbinger of death for all he knew. Instead, she had secreted it under a pile of clean nappies -- it would be safe there, for Ted had considered the care of their daughter to be her duty.
"I'm not asking for that much! I just want dinner on the table when I get home and the baby put to bed!"
Unrolling the brown paper once more, she shook out the blanket and examined the Black family crest in the corner.
The gift might have meant death, it might have been charmed to smother Nymphadora in her sleep and thus cleanse the Black family of the Muggle taint her baby carried.
It might be her token of safe passage home.
Most of Nymphadora's clothes were hand-me-downs from Ted's friends or had been given to her by the nurses at St. Mungo's, she didn't need to pack those. They could stay, they could remind Ted of what he had thrown away.
"What's wrong with her? It's your fault, your family this comes from--"
She lifted Nymphadora up, put the blanket down before her baby even noticed, then wrapped the little girl carefully. Right then, Nymphadora looked nothing like a Tonks or a Black. Her baby's skin was dark like a Gypsy's and blue curls crowned Nymphadora's head, the same blue as the cotton dress her daughter wore.
For a moment Andromeda could almost understand her husband's unease. Shifting Nymphadora into the crook of her arm, she took a deep breath. Even now, it wasn't too late to go to Ted and say she was sorry, to say that they could have another baby, that they could have one that wasn't a Metamorphmagus. Metamorphmagi were rare, the chance of her having another... it was practically impossible.
She could send Nymphadora to live with friends until Ted was ready to have her back. Nymphadora could be safe with one of her old school friends...
"How do I know she's even mine?"
No. She couldn't.
As they left the bedroom, Nymphadora began to fret. "Shhh, baby, shhh," Andromeda soothed, stroking Nymphadora's hair with her free hand as she navigated her way down the stairs. She couldn't trip on the worn old carpet -- the fall could kill them, and at the very least would inform Ted of her plans before she wanted him to know. Couldn't bump her baby's head on the ugly pictures hanging along the stairwell, Nymphadora would cry and give the game away. Thankfully, Nymphadora stopped whimpering to be fed and started sucking on an edge of blanket.
Ted couldn't really stop her if she was going to leave, but she didn't need the confrontation -- certainly didn't want Nymphadora to hear them arguing or the poor girl would wail even more and Ted would get angrier and Andromeda might start flinging the Unforgivable Curses around. Although Nymphadora might get her out of a prison sentence, she didn't want her baby anywhere near Dementors.
Her cloak hung in the hall, the same cloak she'd worn during her last year at Hogwarts. Money didn't grow on trees; Ted barely made enough to keep a roof over their heads and food in the kitchen. There wasn't enough money to buy her new clothes when she still had perfectly good (if old) clothes that had been bought by her mother. When Ted got a raise, he had promised. When business picked up.
"Why can't you get any money from your sister? The blonde's rolling in it, and your mum's not poor."
Andromeda had to provide for her daughter the best way she could.
Pulling her cloak on and arranging the folds to conceal Nymphadora completely, she was halfway out the door when Ted's voice halted her.
"'Meda? Where are you going?" He sounded a lot calmer now, having taken ten minutes or so to calm down instead of fuming and shouting more.
"Out," she answered casually, keeping her voice level as she glanced back over her shoulder. She didn't turn for fear that he'd notice the strange lump under her cloak, but he didn't seem that interested when she clarified, "'round the corner."
Around the corner lay the shops, her usual destination when she made it out of the house for a few minutes. It wasn't an enormous lie, or even any lie at all, she was just being... misleading. Around the corner, she could summon the Knight Bus without him hearing it and running out to stop her. She still had two galleons left of the housekeeping money in her pocket, that would be enough to get her where she was going. She hoped.
"Get me some fags while you're down there?"
"Sure, Ted," she lied, and he went back into the living room. Closing the front door gently behind herself to avoid startling Nymphadora, she walked away briskly down the busy London street. Everything around her was so grey, so bleak... no place to raise a child.
Andromeda still loved the man she left behind, in an abstract way, but she loved her daughter more. If she had to crawl on hands and knees back to her mother, if she had to renounce her husband and her married life to secure her daughter's future, she would do it. Her vows meant less than her blood.