No idea why I decided to use the archaic language, but it fits somehow. Sorry if I've used the wrong word in the wrong place.

Blood Damage

Her heart beat furiously as Ted looked into her eyes, as he made promise after promise and declared his love. As he told her he would wait until her family were willing to accept him, or let her go if that was her wish.

(Thy love was undeserved, but welcomed.)

She fought back tears as her mother yelled, her voice now so loud and screechy the words were undistinguishable. But Andromeda understood, all the same. She was no longer welcome, no longer loved, by the family she would have to leave.

(Thou take away thy love so easily.)

Ted seemed to want her to forget them, but of course he couldn't understand. His family had not abandoned him, hadn't disowned him. He seemed to think she could let go of them, just as easily as they had let go of her. So she cried at night, and couldn't help but wish for some contact from her family. But none came.

(Thou let go so quickly, and yet I struggle.)

When Nymphadora was born, she finally realised she had all she needed. Her daughter, her husband, were all she needed. And after a while, she mostly believed it. But still, she couldn't help but think of them, once in a while.

(I wonder, doest thou still think of me?)

She stared at the paper in shock, in horror, because it was lies, all lies, that littered the front page. Sirius was one of the few shreds of good her family had, Sirius was not a Death Eater, Sirius loved his friends, and would not have let them die. Sirius, she knew Sirius, and they were wrong, all wrong about him. Weren't they?

(Thy darkness spreads so far, sinks so deep, touches so many.)

She smiled at her daughter, said all the right things, but she wasn't really happy. Her daughter, an auror? Her daughter, risking her life to fight the darkest wizards? Her daughter, placed in such danger? What if, what if, her daughter was killed. What if she was left with nothing, again? Did Dora not understand how much her mother's family would love to kill her?

(Doest thou understand the danger I have placed thee in?)

Once again, the newspaper brought horror. Her big sister looked out at her, her once beautiful face edged with madness, hollowed by her years in Azkaban. Bella was dangerous, and Bella was free, Bella was out there. Bella, Andromeda knew, would love to destroy her, even after all these years. She tried to warn Dora – who told her that surely Bellatrix would have long forgotten her, would not care if she did remember. And Andromeda tried to convince herself that Dora was right.

(If thou still remembers me, thou still hates me.)

She tried to stop him, then tried to convince him to let her to go with him. He refused, telling her she needed to stay with their daughter. He refused, also, to leave the country, because he wanted to be near Dora. Wanted to be able, somehow, to see his grandchild when it was born. He refused to listen to reason, and she despaired.

And then she was told, her worst fear confirmed. He was dead.

(How shall I survive without thee? Thy death, thine end.)

She held her grandson, a bittersweet moment, because Ted so badly wanted to be here. He would have loved the child so much, would have spoiled the boy. And instead, this child with never know his grandfather.

(Thy life has just begun, yet thee have already lost.)

Remus left. He told Dora to stay, but no one truly believed she would. Andromeda tried to stop her, but Dora kissed her baby, looking tearful, because she understood she may not return. She asked her mother to look after the boy, and both knew she wasn't talking only of tonight. But the thought of her Andromeda told herself all would be fine.

(I bid thee goodbye, and await thy return.)

Her daughter. Her daughter was dead, her sister the murderer. How – How was she supposed to survive this? Ted, she had lost Ted, and now her Dora?

Bella had killed her. Were her family this desperate to see destroyed? They had pushed her from their midst, then taken all she had.

(Doest thou seek to break me?)

No, not everything. She had Teddy. She had the child, her grandson. She had a remnant of both Ted and of Dora. She had something, some kind of life left, some kind of family.

(Thou are mine, all I have.)

(I will love thee, like they never loved me.)

(They will never hurt thee, I will never let them.)

(Thou is loved, my child, thou is safe.)

(Thy life is marred, already, but nothing else shall hurt thee.)

(Thou is safe, thou is loved, remember that, for always.)