Inexorable

I'm only half surprised to see Hermione at my door. She's smaller than I last saw her - frail and thin in a way that looks decidedly unhealthy. "Hermione, how lovely to see you." I don't let my concern bleed into my voice - she'll tell me in her own time, if she wants to. "Come in, I'll put the kettle on." She thanks me with a voice that is as weak as she looks, then shuffles her way in. "Teddy's asleep, sorry to say, but maybe he'll wake up while you're still here." How long has it been since...? Two years already? I bite back the pang of pain in my heart. Already two years since Dora...

"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks." She's being consumed by the couch, it looks like. Sinking into the plush cushions so far I'm worried she won't be able to stand up without help. Is the couch that fluffy, or is she just that small? "I'm sorry for not coming by recently. I've... had a lot on my plate."

"Don't worry yourself too hard, I'm sure everyone's been quite busy recently. And please, call me Andie." I have to remind her every time we speak. I wonder if she still thinks of me as 'Tonks's mum'. "How've you been holding up?"

Her eyes fill with sorrow, and I see her swallow harshly. It takes her several seconds to respond, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm dying, Andie." Something inside me snaps, rent in two by the weight of the war. I feel like I've been thrown off a cliff, though I try my best not to show it. Of all the people that took part in this, shouldn't Harry, Hermione, and Ron get a break now? She takes a deep breath, speaks again with a clearer voice. "They thought they could find a cure, but... today, my healers gave me two years, tops." For the first time since she arrived, she makes eye contact and fixes me with a forced smile. "I was hoping I could borrow the Black library, try and find something they don't know about, or- or a family cure, or- something. " She breaks down into sobs, crumpling inwards as her voice cracks on the last word.

I find myself kneeling on the floor in front of her in less time than I thought it would take, pulling her shaking hands into my own and offering comforting words. I know that the words I'm speaking aren't just for Hermione. It will take me time to put myself back together, but I can at least pull up enough of a face to help her through today. Once she's no longer crying, I sit on the couch next to her and pull her into my side. It reminds me painfully of Dora, of offering her comfort when she needed it. With great effort, I pull my mind back to the young witch sitting next to me. "I would be more than happy to let you into the Black library, Hermione, but only the head of house can do that. That dubious honor fell to my sister, when... when Lestrange died." I stomp out the flicker of grief I feel over my older sister's death. She doesn't deserve it, not from me. "I believe you know her as Lady Malfoy."

She tenses sharply at the mention of Cissy, then leans her emaciated frame entirely into me, boneless. Her voice comes out as barely a whisper, barren and empty. "Then I suppose I should start getting my affairs in order. There's no way she'll help me."

Seeing this young woman's hope shattered so thoroughly... I have to try. I keep my voice warm and comforting. "Nonsense, Hermione. That just means I need to send a letter to her." It's a long shot, and I'm sure Hermione knows that, but it's still a sliver of hope for her. Something to hold onto.

The sound of crying breaks us from our solemnity - Teddy. Hermione looks up at me with hope shining in her eyes. I wonder if she's just hoping to distract herself from her reality. When I stand to go get Teddy, I see that Hermione hasn't touched her tea.

Writing a letter to your family when you're the estranged, disgraceful sibling is surprisingly easy. Five minutes after I threw away my first draft for being far too angry, I have a usable letter in my hands.

Narcissa

We need to talk. It's about the library. Floo to the Tonks residence. You've been keyed into the wards.