Andromeda was no stranger to being woken in the dead of night by her daughter. When Tonks was six, it was the recurring nightmare about turning invisible and never coming back. She’d wail at the bedroom door, and Andromeda would try to scurry her back to bed. But instead, she’d run into her father’s arms and drift off between them. Andromeda would mutter about self-soothing. Ted would pretend not to hear. Later came the sleepovers - overexcited children laughing far past the agreed bedtime, her daughter undoubtedly the ringleader. Andromeda would appear in her dressing gown, warn that this would be the last sleepover if they didn’t quiet down, and return to bed only for the noise to grow louder. The next time Tonks wanted a sleepover, she would simply ask her father. As she grew older, she would bulldoze into the house at 3 a.m., steaming drunk and tripping over the coffee table, accompanied by shattering glass and expletives. Ted would, of course, go downstairs, fix the mess and steer her to bed. What this journey through motherhood did not prepare her for, however, was waking to the unmistakable sound of a springing mattress and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard against the wall. Her eyes opened at once. She felt every muscle in her body stiffen.It was at this moment that she heard her son-in-law gasp and the sound of her daughter’s laughter. She sat up and turned sharply to face Ted.Ted was on his side, his arm covering his other ear. He seemed intent on pushing his head as far into the pillow as possible, as though it might block out both the noise and the memory.

Andromeda:“Ignore it? This is our house! Our guestroom!”

Ted:“And it’s our adult daughter Anyway, it probably won’t go on much longer.”

Andromeda:“How long have they-?” she began, incredulously.

Ted:”I mean, I’m hardly timing it, am I? Fifteen minutes, maybe? That’s when I woke up, anyway.”

They were interrupted by the thumping growing more erratic, and a sharp intake of breath, followed by, “Merlin, Dora, you feel so good Ted froze. He covered his now-white face with his hands.

Ted:“I wish he wouldn’t say ‘Dora’ when they’re - well…”

Andromeda got to her feet abruptly, fumbling in the dark for her slippers.

Ted:“'Dromeda, don’t, They’re just kids. They’re laughing. They’ve looked miserable for weeks. Merlin knows they could do with a break from it all.”

Andromeda:“It’s one o’clock in the morning, Ted,”

she said, indicating the end of discussion. She pulled on her dressing gown and stormed towards the door.

Ted:“You’ll embarrass them.”

Andromeda:“Good,”

They had meant to be quiet. They usually were. But Tonks had said, “Go on then, prefect - tell me I’m misbehaving,” and the sheer ridiculousness of it had made him laugh harder than he had in a long time, which set her off in turn. After that, they had lost themselves. Her legs tightened around him; she whispered against his ear, nails trailing down the length of his back, and then - Knock-knock-knock.They froze.Remus had looked werewolves in the eyes as they battled a game of life and death. Became a dangerous creature once a month and lost all sense of self. Had shared a dormitory with James and Sirius, for Merlin’s sake. And yet, none of it had felt as daunting as this.

Andromeda:“Are you aware what time it is?”

snapped her voice reverberating through the thin door.Remus remained rigid and looked at Tonks in horror. She covered her mouth with her hand in surprise, but there was something mischievous in her eyes.