IN WAR AND IN PEACE

Post-DH. The bittersweet story of how a family struggled to rebuild itself. Learning to trust each other again, learning to live with one brother less, learning to parent when you'd never had any to show you how. The story of the Weasley-Potter-Lupin family.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the HP universe. Some of the details on the second-generation aren't quite canon, just to warn you.

Prologue: May 2, 1998

54 dead. They ranged in age from 16 to 98. Some were students, some professors, some fighters and others defenders. There were centaurs, humans, house-elves. Dark and Light alike.

Harry took a deep breath as he walked through the bodies laid reverently to one side, waiting for survivors to claim them. Fred's body had already been moved by Bill, the rock of the family while the others tried to cope. He knew that many of the evacuated students and their families would be arriving shortly, hoping beyond reason that their loved ones had survived.

He had to take their bodies back to Andromeda. He had to break the news to her somehow, some way. He had to give her the bodies of her daughter and son-in-law. He had to tell her that her three-week-old grandson was an orphan.

Biting his lower lip, Harry sat down on the ground next to the last Marauder and touched his shoulder lightly, hoping beyond reason… "I never did get a chance to say I was sorry for calling you a coward," he said softly. "I didn't really mean it, you know. Well, I did, actually, that's a lie. But I am sorry." He paused, remembering the last time he'd seen his father's friend before the battle – the night Teddy had been born, remembering how much younger he had looked that night, how happy he'd been. And he felt the ripples of anger course through his heart. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they should've torn him away so soon. Torn them away. There'd been enough children orphaned in this stupid war, himself included.

But Teddy would be different. Teddy would still have somebody, and not a horrible aunt and uncle. Teddy would have him.

"I'll take good care of him, Remus," he said quietly, the first tear escaping as he jumped at a light hand on his leg. Whirling around, he saw Ginny kneeling next to him, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks tearstained. He could see the scrape on her jaw from where she'd hit the hard ground and slid during the battle, could see the cut above her left brow and the way her entire body still trembled. "C'mere," he said softly, holding out his arms, and she fell into them, burying her face into his shoulder as she started sobbing again.

"Tell me none of this is real," she begged, as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, rocking her slightly and kissing the top of her head comfortingly. "Tell me this is all just a nightmare."

Harry was silent as another tear slid down his cheek.

Percy was coming out of the Great Hall, presumably looking for Ginny, and stopped when he saw them. Then he turned and retreated back into the hall.

"No! Colin!" came the grief-stricken scream of Dennis Creevey, the first one to return. His cry was soon joined by others.

"No…" came a soft whisper across from him as he woke up that evening. He'd stayed at the castle with what remained of the bodies – people with no family, Muggleborns whose families were yet to be informed. In all there was approximately twenty. He would stay there until the last body was removed. It was all because of him that the battle had happened, that they were dead. Charlie had come to gently pry Ginny away at sunset, the Weasleys and Hermione all leaving for the Burrow with Fred's body. "No, this can't be true…"

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Harry saw Andromeda kneeling next to her daughter's body, the baby asleep in a carrier beside her. For the first time in the year he'd known her, Andromeda looked… old. Worn. Sick.

"Mothers are never supposed to outlive their children," she murmured, stroking Tonks' cheek gently. "Never. It's not right."

"It's not right that mothers are killed before their children are old enough to remember them," Harry said quietly.

"She can't be dead," Andromeda repeated shakily, running long, elegant fingers through pink hair. "She can't be." She wavered for a minute, looking close to passing out.

"Andromeda, you okay?" Harry asked worriedly.

"No," she replied. "I've been sick for a while now. I didn't tell Nymphadora. I couldn't bear to burden her with that, too, along with everything else. I'm due to check into St. Mungo's tomorrow. I came here hoping I would find them still cleaning up, to bring them back the baby. I don't know what to do now."

Harry didn't even hesitate. "I'll take him. I'm his godfather."

Andromeda looked at him. "I don't know how long it'll be, Harry. I may not come out at all."

"As long as it takes," Harry replied. "Don't worry about it, Andromeda."

She was silent for a long time before she passed him the carrier and bag. "I know this sounds horrible and crass, but can you –" she trailed off, watching her daughter's deathly white face. "I just can't deal with this right now, and she needs to be…" She stopped, voice quavering.

Harry nodded. "I'll handle it," he said quietly, lifting Teddy carefully from the carrier when the newborn began to whimper and squirm, waking up.

He would handle a lot of funerals over the next week.