Author's Note: I posted this story a few years ago under my old pen name, but later deleted it. Now I'm posting it again.

"What do you want?" Andromeda Tonks asked Harry Potter as he stood outside the door of her London home in the middle of the night. The witch was holding her grandson Teddy Lupin with her left arm as he screamed his lungs out. In her right hand was her wand, which she was itching to use.

"I just had a terrible nightmare about..."

"That's wonderful. Thanks for waking Teddy up to share that fact with us. Now leave."

Andromeda knew the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't responsible for the death of her daughter Nymphadora two days ago. He wasn't responsible for the death of husband Ted either. He wasn't responsible for the fact that she had been tortured during the war in an attempt to learn his whereabouts. He wasn't responsible for the fact that at forty-three she now had to raise her infant grandson without any help. He wasn't even responsible for the death of that cradle-robbing werewolf who fathered little Teddy.

Still, as she glared into the boy's vivid green eyes she couldn't help but blame him for all of that.

"The dream was about your sister Bellatrix Lestrange and the Longbottoms," Harry said as she went to slam the door in his face.

That was a low blow. Andromeda was well aware of Bellatrix's many crimes, including the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Including the death of Nymphadora. She let the boy inside the house without a word.

Potter sensed her hostility, so he cut right to it. "Everyone thought the war was over last time Voldemort died, but that wasn't the case. After all these years the Longbottoms still can't recognized their son Neville. I can't... I won't let anything like that happen to Teddy."

If this had been about her own safety Andromeda would have gladly told the boy to go to hell. Dying didn't seem like a bad idea right about now. But this wasn't about her. "That does the great Boy-Who-Lived plan on doing about the situation?"

"Move in with me," Harry offered. "I know that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is no place to raise a child, but the wards are very powerful. I also want to recast the Fidelius Charm on the house. We should be safe there, at least for a couple of weeks. And Kreacher seems to tolerate me now, so he should be willing to do some cooking and housework for us."

Old Number Twelve. Andromeda knew the house was hellhole of Dark Magic, but she knew also knew the boy was right. The Black family had sunk a vast fortune into fortifying that place against their many enemies. She loved her current home, but could she really continue to live here without Ted and Nymphadora? Or would all the painful memories lurking about slowly drive her insane?

"Teddy is asleep again. Watch him while I go and pack our things."

The portrait of Aunt Walburga began shrieking the moment they walked through the door. Andromeda thought back to a conversation she had with Bellatrix many years ago. Aunt Walburga had hated Sirius and thought Regulus a weakling, but to her Bellatrix was everything a proper Black witch should be. As a result the old hag shared many secrets with her favorite niece, and Bellatrix had hinted at some of these secrets to torment Cissy and her.

"My sister once told me an interesting method for controlling the family portraits." Andromeda took out her wand and sliced deeply into her palm. She then smeared the blood all over Aunt Walburga's face. "You may have burnt my name off the family tree, but my blood is still pure. So shut the hell up."

"Why didn't Sirius ever do that?" Harry asked as he stared at the portrait, which was now silent and motionless.

"Aunt Walburga, answer the boy."

"Sirius never knew that his Black blood was the key to controlling everything inside this house—including the portraits and wards—because I never told him. The blood traitor didn't deserve to know the truth."

"Yes, your son the traitor," Andromeda hissed. "Harry, you now have complete access to the house wards. I suggest bring them all up to full strength, especially the lethal ones. Do you really plan to cast a Fidelius Charm? That takes more power than I could ever manage."

"Raw power was never been a problem for me," Harry said. He dug into his Mokeskin pouch, and then handed her an ancient manuscript about wards.

The ritual was long and tedious, but the boy hadn't been exaggerating about his magical strength. He could crush her in a duel, but he didn't seem to realize it. Andromeda had always equated strength with arrogance, but Harry Potter was modest to a fault. At the end of the ritual he chose her as the new Secret Keeper, not that were was much choice in the matter.

"Call Kreacher for me, and tell him to obey my commands," Andromeda said once they were finally done.

"Kreacher." The ancient house-elf immediately appeared. "You know Mrs Tonks, don't you? She will be living here, along with her grandson Teddy who is also a member of the Black family. You will obey her without question. Is that clear?"

"Yes, master."

"Good," Andromeda said. "My first command is to go and find any orphan house-elves hiding around the country. I want at a matched pair, and they should be young and healthy. Now go."

Andromeda saw the question in the boy's eyes as Kreacher vanished. "After any major battle involving purebloods many of the house-elves will be left without a proper master or a mistress. An old pro like Kreacher will know where to find them, and he can bring a pair back here to serve the Black family."

"Fine, but you're explaining all this to my friend Hermione Granger when she gets back from Australia," Harry muttered.

After less than an hour Kreacher did return with a male house-elf named Uta and a female named Quin. After accepting them into service, the house-elves left to prepare three separate rooms for the night. Andromeda changed Teddy's nappies, and fed him another bottle as they waited in the dusty kitchen.

"How did you know about the orphan house-elves?" Harry asked as he tried to get Teddy to burp by gently patting his tiny back.

"I was raised to be the lady of a great pureblood household, even if I did turn my back on all of that nonsense. My mother made sure we knew all the tricks. I wonder why Cissy didn't beat me to it?" Andromeda mused.

"The entire Malfoy family is under house arrest, pending their trial," Harry explained. "I plan on testifying on behalf of your nephew Draco and your sister, but Lucius can burn in hell for all I care."

"Why would you do something so foolish? They are all Death Eaters—even Cissy."

"Mrs Malfoy protected me from Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts by pretending that I was still dead. If Voldemort knew I was alive again, he would have killed me again. I think it would have been a permanent death if he had killed me a second time."

Andromeda stared at the boy for a good minute. "Are you insane?" she finally asked.

Harry thought about the question for another minute before replying. "I guess I will have to tell you my life story—from the beginning to the present. After hearing everything maybe you can tell me if I'm insane. I would really like to know, one way or the other."

Several hours later Andromeda was trying to get some sleep, but her mind wasn't cooperating. The story Harry had told her down in the kitchen was unbelievable. She had already heard some of it from Nymphadora, who got her information from Sirius and Remus. But the details were new, and for Harry the devil was truly in the details. A devil named Albus Dumbledore.

As Andromeda listen to the boy talk, her anger had slowly shifted from him to her old Headmaster. The plot was obvious in hindsight: create a martyr. Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to destroy Harry and the Horcrux he carried, so he arranged for the Dark Lord to do it for him. The great Dumbledore couldn't have the blood of an innocent child on his hands, could he? Harry had been programed to die, and he had preformed accordingly.

While the ridiculous plan had worked, it could have just as easily failed. And its questionable success had come at a terrible price. A price that included Nymphadora and Ted. The war could have been prevented if Dumbledore had chosen to act, but he had not. Instead he had left the problem of the Dark Lord to an ignorant teenage boy, and everyone had suffered because of it.

Andromeda knew Harry was right about the remaining Death Eaters. Even if the Dark Lord was dead, his movement was not. The war would continue. Perhaps not right away, but soon the purebloods would rise again. And the three people in this house would be at the top of their hit list. And thanks to Dumbledore's stupidity, the purebloods would be facing a severely weakened enemy.

But what could she do about that now?

Andromeda didn't fancy looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life. And given her grandson's connection to Harry she would be, no matter how far away she ran from the United Kingdom. It was only a matter of time until someone tried to use little Teddy to hurt his godfather.

If running wasn't an option that meant she had to stay and fight. Harry was a powerful wizard, but it was clear that he had been Dumbledore's puppet from the beginning. The boy had no idea what to do next, but what if he had a new mentor to provide him with guidance?

Someone like me, Andromeda thought as she stared up at the dark ceiling. That has possibilities.

Bathing an infant without fully developed muscle control is a nerve-racking experience for anyone. Especially for a teenage boy who is afraid of drowning his little godson. So perhaps it wasn't a good idea to outline her first idea while Harry was attempting to give Teddy a bath.

"And you think I'm insane? Isn't this just great for Teddy. The two adults in his life are both certified loons," Harry complained. "In case you've forgotten I just robbed Gringotts, and use one of their dragons to escape through the bloody roof. If I step foot inside the bank again the Goblins are going to kill me."

"They are not going to kill the wizard who just rid the world of the Dark Lord," Andromeda said with more confidence than was justified. "The Goblins won't kill you, they will just fine you for the damages you caused. Hermione Granger's money is safe in the muggle world, and Ron Weasley is dirt poor. But you have a healthy number of galleons in your Vault. If we don't move now those fines will continue to grow until you are completely bankrupt."

"Money isn't important to me. I was poor for most of my life."

"Yes, you told me about your cruel Uncle and wicked Aunt. You might not have liked the Dursleys, but they did give you food and shelter for nearly sixteen years. If your Vault is empty, how are you going to the same for Teddy?"

That insult set the boy off, and like any good teenager he sulked. The silent treatment lasted until they put Teddy back to bed.

"My childhood was pretty lousy, but you're right—I wasn't abused," Harry finally admitted. "Neglected yes, but not abused. And Teddy will need those galleons, even if I don't. So I agree that we have to deal with Gringotts, but wouldn't a nice conversation be better than blackmail? What if we accidentally start another war?"

"We aren't going to star a war, we are going to prevent one," Andromeda replied. "People are going to want to know why you had to break into Gringotts in the first place, and when they find out the truth there will be a war unless we make a deal with the Goblins."

"Who is going to watch Teddy?"

The boy couldn't find fault her logic, so he was looking for another excuse not to go. It was annoying. "We have three house-elves now."

"You can't leave my godson with bloody house-elves."

"Why not? Most pureblood children are practically raised by their house-elves. I certainly was."

"Yes, and look how well that turned out for your sister Bellatrix," Harry snapped.

Andromeda gave the boy a calculating stare. "You are wasting my time. What is your real problem?"

The boy blushed, but then he turned to looked her straight in the eyes. "If you really must know I don't want to face another life-threatening situation as a virgin."

Andromeda thought back to his life story. "You and the Weasley girl never did anything? That's surprising considering her mother's reputation. Molly Prewett was certainly no prude."

The still-blushing boy shook his head.

"And all that time in the tent alone with Hermione Granger, and she never once took pity on you? No? Well, this is all very amusing, but what would you like me to do about it?" Her question received no answer, which was all the answer she needed. "You can't be serious, I am five years older than your late mother."

"That does that matter? You're very attractive, and I don't want to face death as a virgin. Again. It has been at least a dozen times, and I'm bloody sick and tired of it," Harry complained.

Andromeda knew the boy was being sincere. The Blacks had picked their mates based on important traits like beauty and magical strength—not trivial matters like love or mental stability. She hadn't spent any time in Azkaban like Bellatrix or Sirius, so her classical good looks hadn't been ruined. And she had given birth to Nymphadora at eighteen, so her slim figure wasn't a problem either.

Ted is gone, so technically I'm a widow, Andromeda thought. And there is an excellent chance we are going to die tomorrow at Gringotts. So what the hell.

In her defense it must be said that with the loss of Ted and Nymphadora she was not in her right state of mind. In fact Andromeda Tonks and her right state of mind were separated by a distance of at least a dozen kilometers. So she began to undress right there in the middle of the kitchen, and once naked hopped up on the wooden table.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked while casting both a Contraceptive and Lubrication Charm on herself.

Harry's clothes disappeared in a burst of accidental magic, but he was too terrified to take the initiative. Finally she grabbed his arse with one hand, and guided him in with the other. He managed to last for two minutes, which Andromeda felt was respectable showing for a virgin. Afterwards he stared into her eyes looking for something, but she couldn't imagine what he was hoping to find. She hopped-off the table, and gathered her discarded clothes from the floor.

"If you want a human babysitter, find one quickly. I want our business with Gringotts to be finish as soon as possible."

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was in a state of total chaos. Several Aurors were present, but they weren't helping matters. The families of many of the students were refusing to leave until they felt the school was safe again. The newly appointed Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was trying to restore order, but she simply didn't have the personal authority of a wizard like Albus Dumbledore. Worst of all, Harry Potter had gone missing.

Luna Lovegood took this all in as she sat alone eating her breakfast of bacon and eggs. Her father had returned home to put out a Special Edition of the Quibbler detailing the dramatic death of You-Know-Who. Hermione had already left to find her parents in Australia, while Ron and Ginny were surrounded by their grieving family. A grinning Neville had been dragged away by Susan and Hannah a few minutes ago—she was surprised they let him eat breakfast with any clothes on.

"You wouldn't happen to know where I could find some pudding?"

Luna could hear Harry's voice, but she couldn't see him. "I take it you are still hiding from everyone. Why did you come back?"

"I came back for you," Harry whispered. "I need to ask you for a favor. Could you please come with me? It's important, but I don't want to discuss the details here."

"Move over," Luna said as she joined him under the Invisibility Cloak. Once they were outside the wards of Hogwarts, Harry used Side-Along Apparition to take them to a muggle neighborhood in London.

"Read this."

The slip of parchment Harry gave her had a single sentence written on it: the Tonks family lives at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Once the words entered her mind a townhouse began to appear out of nowhere. "What is so important that you had to use a Fidelius Charm?" Luna asked as they made their way up the dirty front steps.

"I'm staying here with my godson Teddy Lupin and his grandmother. We have to go to Gringotts today, and I would really appreciate it if you could watch little Teddy for us. We have three house-elves to do most of the work, but I would feel more comfortable if you here to supervise them," Harry explained.

"I would be glad to help. Is Teddy Lupin related to the late Professor Lupin?" Luna asked. "I wasn't aware that he was married."

"The wedding happened last year during the war," Harry said as he took her up to the bedroom where Teddy was sleeping.

"Yes, the lovely shotgun wedding that every mother dreams about for her daughter," said an older witch who was waiting for them on the second floor. She was very beautiful, and wearing an immaculate set of black dress robes. "You must be Luna Lovegood."

"Luna, this is Teddy's grandmother Andromeda Tonks. Andromeda, this is my good friend Luna Lovegood."

"Your good friend indeed," Andromeda said as she openly studied the Luna's appearance. "Harry could have used your help last night."

This odd comment brought a deep blush to Harry's face. "I would have been willing to help. What did you need last night?"

"Don't worry Miss Lovegood, the boy will be needing plenty of help in the future," Andromeda told her. "Won't you Harry? Lots and lots of help, I imagine."

"Luna, if we aren't back by tonight please have an owl deliver this letter to the Daily Prophet, and give the other one to your father," the blushing wizard said as he handed her two thick envelops. "Hopefully we will be back before then."

They entered the lobby of Gringotts while still under the boy's Invisibility Cloak. Dealing with a crowd of adoring fans was the last thing either one of them wanted to do at the moment.

"Are you sure this will work?" Harry asked.

Andromeda pulled off the Cloak. "No, I'm not sure this will work. Not at all, but it's too late to turn back now."

One of the goblins noticed them, and soon they were surrounded by a dozen angry warriors.

Rather than panic Andromeda spoke an old phase in Gobbledegook: "I have business with the Goblins concerning matters of blood." It was the only Gobbledegook she knew, but it worked. The phrase was a fail-safe the purebloods had written into all the old Treaties. It insured an open line of communication was always available, even during hostilities. If you spoke the phrase the Goblins had to give you a hearing. They could cut your throat afterwords, but first they would hear you out.

"We will take you and the thief to see Ragnok," one of the Goblin warrior snarled as he caressed his long spear.

They were escorted to the office of the Goblin's uncrowned king. It was about what you would expect from the wealthiest and most powerful Goblin in the world: flashy and tasteless. At the center of this opulent display was Ragnok, who was sitting on a throne of gold and glittering jewels. At his right hand was an equally old Goblin male holding a large ledger book.

Once the door closed behind them Andromeda took out her wand, and removed Ragnok's head with a simply Reducto Curse. The two Goblin warriors in the office both attacked with their spears, but Harry killed them—more out of instinct than design. Not only was the boy powerful, he was fast. Maybe even faster than Bellatrix was back in the day. Maybe even as fast as the Dark Lord. That was good to know.

"You have broken the Treaty," said the goblin standing next to Ragnok's now-headless corpse. "Kill me if you want, but your lives are forfeit."

"By protecting the Lestrange Vault from Harry Potter, Ragnok was aiding the Dark Lord in his war. So his life was forfeit," Andromeda shot back. "If you have us killed the Daily Prophet will print a story tomorrow detailing Gringotts' alliance with the Death Eaters."

"We have never had an alliance with any group of wizards, and that includes the Death Eaters," the Goblin snarled.

"Harry Potter says otherwise. Who do you think the Wizengamot and the general pubic will believe?"

"The boy can't testify if he is dead."

Harry bristled. "If I die today my friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley will corroborate everything I've told the Daily Prophet."

"However if we are allowed to leave Gringotts alive all this unpleasant information will be forgotten," Andromeda explained.

She was gambling with their lives, but the odds were in their favor. If a dead Harry Potter left information saying that Ragnok had rebelled, everyone would believe him. After an expensive civil war the Ministry of Magic desperately needed galleons, and the death of a young war hero would give them the perfect excuse to loot Gringotts.

But if this was kept quiet, then all of Ragnok's personal wealth would go to this second-in-command. A second-in-command who would then become the new unofficial king of the Goblins. All he had to do was cover-up the three dead bodies in this office. Then there would be no hint of a rebellion. No costly war that the Goblins were sure to lose in the long-run.

"What is the price of your silence?" the Goblin asked.

"Harry Potter will pay for the repairs to Gringotts. Nothing more, nothing less. There will be no additional monetary fines assessed a later date. The matter will be closed forever."

"If the wizard publicly pays for the repairs that would save face for the Goblin Nation. I can agree to this condition."

"Harry Potter will also claim the Vault of the late Tom Riddle by Right of Conquest."

The Right of Conquest was another loophole the purebloods created for themselves in the various Treaties with the Goblins. As much as they hated the little beasts, the great pureblood families knew the Goblins would keep their mouths shut. The Right of Conquest allowed wizards to kill their rivals, and then steal their wealth without the Ministry of Magic knowing anything about it. It was the perfect way to deal with uppity half-bloods and muggleborns who amassed too much wealth in the magical world.

"If I may say, you are a true daughter of the Black," the old Goblin remarked. "Do you know know how rich that Vault is?"

Harry snorted. "Considering that Tom Riddle was a kleptomaniac with no sense of morality, I would imagine his Vault holds quite a bit."

"You are correct. The Potter family amassed only two million galleons during its long history. The Blacks did much better for themselves with five million galleons. But in less than fifty years Tom Riddle's Vault came to hold sixteen million galleons. He never made a withdrawn. Only deposits."

"That is because he funded his war with galleons collected from his pureblood supporters, or ones he stole from his victims," Andromeda said. "I doubt the Dark Lord paid for anything, not even the robes he wore or the meals he ate. Not when he could sponge off rich Death Eaters like Lucius and Bellatrix."

The Goblin continued: "On a related matter, Harry Potter is also a listed as a beneficiary in the wills of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape."

"I have already received the items Dumbledore left me. Are you sure that Professor Snape left me something in his will?"

"The will you are referring to is the one on file at the Ministry of Magic. Wizards often have private arrangements with Gringotts to pass gold or other goods on to their descendents," the Goblin explained. "And yes, Severus Snape did leave you several hand-written journals. Albus Dumbledore left you a Pensieve."

"If those journals are anything like Snape's potions textbook, they would probably be very interesting to read," Harry said.

Andromeda insisted that they write up their own little Treaty to complete the deal. The galleons from Tom Riddle's Vault would be transferred into the Potter Vault, minus the expense of repairing the damage the blind dragon had caused. The new leader of the Goblin Nation then called on several of his personal retainers to dispose of Ragnok and the two dead warriors.

"They will be fed to the dragons, and no one will be stupid enough to ask any questions. I strongly suggest that you never speak of this meeting again."

Andromeda could tell an argument was coming when they returned to Number Twelve, and she felt it was best to lance the boil at once. "Luna, if you could give us a few more minutes. Harry and I need to talk."

Once they reached the library Harry opened the small package he had received at Gringotts. It increased in size to reveal nine leather journals which were unmarked except for Roman numerals. The package also held a Pensieve with a single memory swirling around inside.

"That is probably a message for you. Would you like to take a look?" Andromeda asked, unwilling to start the fight.

"I'm not in the mood for Dumbledore's mind games right now. You said we were going to negotiate with the Goblins. Instead we just murdered three of them. For gold."

"Killing Goblins is how you negotiate with Goblins. If we hadn't acted, they would have bankrupted you. After everything you've been through in your life, aren't you sick and tired of being a helpless victim? Don't you want to take control of your destiny for once?"

"Not if it means becoming a murderer."

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "That's exactly the kind of hokum Albus Dumbledore always spouted."

"It's not hokum."

"Listen to me boy: everything you have gone through, all the suffering you endured, even having to walk into the Forbidden Forest to face your own death—all of that happened because of Albus Dumbledore. Because he couldn't bring himself to kill Tom Riddle when he had the chance. Dumbledore thought he was too moral to take a life. And how many die because of that towering arrogance? Too many, including my daughter Nymphadora who was foolish enough to place her trust in the old fraud."

Andromeda closed her eyes and tried to get her temper under control. "Harry, if you attempt to follow Dumbledore's path—his vision of how you should live your life—then you are going to die. And Teddy will die right along with you."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked with genuine concern.

"You must understand that Dumbledore was one of the few people holding our sick little world together, and now he is dead. Amelia Bones was another. I don't know if you ever met her, but she was a powerhouse of a witch. Even more so than Bellatrix. I've seen grown wizards trembling at the thought of facing her wand, and now she is dead. Rufus Scrimgeour might have been a scheming politician, but he could fight and everyone knew it. And now he is dead."

"The great leaders of our side—of the Forces of Light, if you will—are dead," Andromeda explained. "There is no one left to protect you if you aren't willing to protect yourself. We can't afford to just sit back and react to the pureblood's political agenda. We must attack them first. If we don't, it is only a matter of time until they come for you. And for Teddy."

It was all too much for the boy to take in. "I am starving. Let's go and see what Quin has made for dinner."

Andromeda knew she had done all she could for now. Her words would either make it through his thick skull, or they wouldn't. "We should invite Luna to stay overnight. It's too late for her to return to Hogwarts."

Despite everything that had happened, dinner was still a pleasant affair. The new house-elf Quin was an excellent cook, and Luna's presence seemed to calm Harry down. It quickly became apparent to Andromeda that Luna was just as damaged in her own way as the boy was. She was also madly in love with the great Harry Potter—even if he was totally oblivious to that fact.

Andromeda knew she could keep the Harry sexually enthralled for a year or two, perhaps a bit longer. But over time the age difference would become too much of a barrier between them. At some point he would turn away, and look for a witch closer to his own age.

A Hermione Potter would be a political disaster. Harry had told her several painful stories about SPEW, and anyone reckless enough to try and free the house-elves would get Harry killed in short order. Bellatrix had been the same way: intellectually brilliant, but in matters of politics a fool.

Ginny Potter... that would be a problem as well. An entire family of Dumbledore worshiping gingers—what a dreadful thought. They would fight Andromeda's plans for Harry's future every step of the way. So what to do about it? She had heard the stories about Molly. Was the daughter like the mother?

"Luna, tell me about Ginny. She wants to marry Harry, doesn't she? Is that why she has been holding out on poor boy? She figured that if his balls are blue enough he would propose?"

"I didn't share that information with you so you could use it as a topic of dinner conversation," Harry growled.

Luna ignored Harry, and turned to Andromeda. The girl was intelligent, and with a look she told the older witch that she had recognized her plan—and would play along.

"Yes, that is true. Ginny has had physical relations with her other boyfriends, but she is making Harry wait until they were married."

Yes, a Luna Potter will do nicely, Andromeda thought.

"She did what with her other boyfriends?"

"Luna, did you know that when Harry fought his battle with the Dark Lord he was still a virgin?" Andromeda asked. She was laying it on with a trowel, but what did it matter? They were teenagers, a species not known for their subtlety.

"Harry, if you were my boyfriend I wouldn't have made you wait," Luna said as she looked the boy in the eyes. "You saved us all from the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and you saved me from that horrible cell where the Death Eaters kept me for all those weeks. You should never have to wait."

Take one horny teenage boy, add in one deceitful girlfriend, and then mix with a willing best friend, Andromeda thought. And soon nature will take its course.

The dinner conversation lasted for another ten minutes, but the hook was firmly planted in the fish's mouth. Harry finally asked Luna if she wanted to take a tour of the house. The horny couple practically flew up the stairs. Teddy—who was sitting on Andromeda's lap—let out a loud burp as they disappeared from sight.

"Indeed Teddy, indeed."