Twenty-six.

No, wait. There were two more right past that holly bush. Twenty-eight.

. . . four, five, six, seven. Plus a clump of elephant grass.

Done counting fence pickets and bushes, Harry searched for other calculable items in his range of vision. He'd already counted the stones that bordered the front walkway and the buds on a lone rosebush by the gate. He was ready to start on the leaves of the oak tree. Anything to keep from having to walk up and knock on that door.

It was some special kind of weird, really. He'd defeated the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time, and several times, at that. He'd battled dragons, dodged Death Eaters, destroyed Horcruxes, and was dealing quite well with the fact that even Snape's death wasn't going to keep the man from torturing him.

But he was afraid of Andromeda Tonks.

Well, not afraid of her, exactly. But he would pretty much give all the gold in his vault at Gringotts not to have to talk to her just now. She had already lost her husband after being burnt off the Black family tree for having the audacity to marry him in the first place. Now Harry had to tell her that her only daughter and her son-in-law were gone, too.

McGonagall had been in charge of writing the families of the fallen. Unlike Harry, however, she'd been communicating with the Order all along, and knew that Remus and Dora had left Teddy with his grandmother for safekeeping. As a half-breed, Teddy had been especially vulnerable to the Ministry's "cleansing." The house was protected by the Fidelius Charm, but McGonagall knew that Harry would want to break the news himself. After all, Teddy Lupin was his godson. And Teddy didn't have much left in the way of family.

Arthur, the Tonks' Secret-Keeper, had provided Harry with the address. He had been here before, of course, but the strength of the Fidelius Charm was such that without Arthur's compliance, he could have been standing by this very gate, counting the panes in the front windows, without ever realising that the woman he was looking for lived there.

Finally, Harry had to admit that he couldn't just stand outside all day, flaking paint off the pickets with his fingernail. There was too much to be done back at Hogwarts, and he still had to visit Mrs. Creevey. He opened the gate, and bracing himself for the inevitable, walked resolutely up the stone pathway and thumped the brass knocker.

Harry heard movement inside the house, and footsteps skittering about the entryway, but the door did not open immediately. Instead, a harsh voice, so very much altered from the night he and Hagrid had sought refuge here, barked, "Who's that?"

"It's Harry Potter, Mrs. Tonks," he answered. "Arthur told me where I could find you."

He heard the sharp snap of a bolt being hastily disengaged, then silence.

"You can ask me something if you need to," he offered. Andromeda, of course, had no way of knowing that things were safe now. And really, there were still Death Eaters at large.

There was a pause, then, "Which Portkey did you and Hagrid use to leave our home last year?"

Harry frowned. He could barely remember what he'd had to eat before leaving this morning. And he'd been slightly distracted on the night in question, possibly a side effect of falling out of the sky on an enchanted motorbike after being ambushed by flying Death Eaters. "Erm . . . let me think," he hedged. Her hand jostled the bolt. "Oh, wait, it was a hairbrush, right? That's it," he said, relieved.

The latch clicked as Andromeda threw the door open the rest of the way. "Harry," she exclaimed, pulling him into the front hallway and wrapping him in a hug. "Harry, thanks be to Merlin, you're all right," she murmured into his hair. Harry was taken aback at her warmth, as his behaviour toward this woman at their last meeting had been anything but courteous. After all, he'd been rather disconcerted by Andromeda's strong resemblance to her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange. But she was greeting him as a long-lost son who had finally come home.

"Mrs. Tonks," he began awkwardly.

"Oh, honestly, Harry," she chuffed, pulling back from the embrace. "Andromeda."

"Right, well . . . see, Andr— . . . well, I'm here to —"

"You'll get used to it," she said, dismissing his awkwardness with a wave of her hand. Harry could see that all her fingernails were ragged, bitten right down to the quick, and the inky hair that framed her face was losing its own war to the grey invaders. Andromeda was probably about forty-five, but looked ten years older. Her trembling hands were now smoothing his hair away from his face. "Your hair is so long," she said.

"Yeah, I know, I need to get it cut," he said inanely.

"Have you seen Nymphadora?" she asked him suddenly, her fingers tightening against his head. "And my son-in-law? Are they all right? They haven't been here in three days, and I've barely slept, worrying."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He cleared his throat before speaking. "See, two nights ago . . . there was a battle at Hogwarts. Voldemort is dead now, but . . ." Her eyes were piercing him to the core. "Remus and Ton— . . . and Nymphadora were both, um, they were killed. In the battle." He tensed up, waiting for the explosion.

Andromeda surprised him. She let go of his face and began wringing her hands, but didn't cry or anything. "Now, Harry, that hardly makes sense," she said in a reasoning tone. "They only left the baby here for his safety. They're always over here. Why, Nymphadora just came by a few days ago! She was holding Teddy, and every time his hair changed colour, she'd change hers to match. You should have heard him laugh!" She turned and headed toward the kitchen. "They should be here tonight, even. I'm making Remus his favourite dinner, although I imagine the steak will be too well cooked for his tastes. I can't have him getting sick over raw meat, really."

"Andromeda," Harry tried to interrupt, but she was having none of it.

"You'll stay to tea, too, won't you, darling?" Andromeda continued. "Teddy's asleep just now, but you just have to see him. You've only seen pictures, but he's getting so fat! Dora — she hates it when I call her Nymphadora — thinks I spoil him too much, but it's not as if I'm feeding him sweets, after all!" She was pacing the length of the kitchen as she blathered on. "Why, I puree fresh vegetables from the garden, and Dora would breastfeed. He only gets the formula if she's kept away too long; real milk doesn't keep too well, even with magic." She saw Harry's face and stopped. "I'm sorry, dear, that's probably more than you wanted to know, wasn't it?" she laughed nervously. "Well, anyway, I don't stuff him, poor baby. When he gets full, he turns away from the food; it's that simple."

Harry took advantage of her needing a breather to step in. "Andromeda, please, if you'll just listen for a second —"

"Don't tell me to stop talking," she said, in more of a bewildered voice than an angry one. "Can't you see if I stop talking I'll start screaming?" She fiddled with the towel hanging from the oven handle.

"Go ahead," Harry answered her gently. "But I think you'll just end up scaring Teddy, and that's not going to help us."

"Oh, yes, Teddy," Andromeda rejoined nervously, flitting towards the stairs. "Come see Teddy, Harry. Come see your godson. I'll expect you to spoil him, now, just spoil him rotten. He'll need you around, because . . . because . . ." She stopped on the first stair, and Harry was horrified to see her sinking down onto the carpeting, still clutching the banister. He hurried over as she finished with, "Because he doesn't have any other family now." With that, she burst into tears.

Harry hopped up onto the stair above her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Andromeda's hand slipped from the railing and gripped his forearm with her bony fingers, her thin body wracking with sobs. Harry, not knowing what to do, shushed the crying woman as he fought back his own tears.

They stayed like that for a long time. Harry felt odd holding a woman old enough to have a grandson as if she were a child, but it seemed to comfort her. Her tears were dwindling when Teddy woke up and the sound of his fussing came from upstairs. Andromeda pushed against Harry and stood up. "Come see Teddy," she repeated, wiping her eyes and giving him a small smile. "He's so sweet, Harry. Just like . . . like Dora was."

Harry followed her upstairs, noting how her hands still shook as she clung to the railing. Teddy's room was decorated with a vintage Winnie-the-Pooh motif; the curtains, wallpaper border, and crib canopy depicted Tigger, Piglet, Pooh, Rabbit, and pots labeled "Hunny" tilted at various angles. The walls were painted a very pale gold, which shone brilliantly in the sunshine that spilled in the room. Harry could smell talcum powder and lotion. It was such a happy room, and Harry felt a tiny bit better. His godson would at least have a loving home.

Andromeda was lowering the side of the crib. "Gaaaaaaaah!" Teddy yelled, and Harry could see his little feet kicking, though the rest of him was blocked by his grandmother.

"Did you say 'Grandmum'?" she cooed, picking him up and cuddling him to her chest.

"Gwum!"

"Close enough," Andromeda laughed, turning around so Harry could see the baby. The minute Teddy saw his visitor, he burst into giggles, holding out one tiny fist.

"I don't look that funny," Harry said, pretending to be injured. He came closer, and Teddy's hair, which had been blue, changed to green. Andromeda started to hand him the baby, but he didn't want to take the tiny bundle. "I've never held a baby," he said uncertainly.

"Oh, don't be silly," she chided. "Here, see?" She kept one hand under Teddy's head and one under his diapered rump. "Just hold out your arms as if he's there." Harry complied, and she deftly deposited the baby into the little nest Harry's arms made. His bicep made a natural pillow for Teddy's little head, which wasn't any bigger than a coconut. Teddy reached up and pawed at Harry with his tiny little fingers, and Harry felt himself falling instantly and irrevocably in love.

Andromeda watched with a smile on her haggard face. She indicated the rocking chairs behind Harry, and they both sat down. "Dora didn't want Teddy out of her arms when she was here," Andromeda said, settling back against her chair. "We'd just sit in here and talk for hours. Remus would sit on the floor, and sometimes he'd wrestle his son away, but he didn't get to come as often as she did. The Order didn't want to work her too hard, because of the baby."

Harry carefully slid the hand not supporting Teddy's head out and experimentally tickled his stomach. Teddy squealed with laughter, his little knees curling inward to protect his tummy.

Andromeda was drumming her fingers nervously. "Harry, please come and stay here," she suddenly urged. "For tonight, at least, but from now on if you want to. There's plenty of room, and it'll be better for Teddy to grow up with some male influence. After all, what does an old woman who only ever had a daughter know about raising a boy?" she asked wistfully.

Harry was touched. "I'll have to think about that," he said delicately. "Right now, there's just so much to do at the school, and as for tonight . . . I have to visit Vera Creevey. Her son Colin . . . he died that night, too." He swallowed. How could he deal with Mrs. Creevey after this? Andromeda had been upset enough, but her daughter was an Auror and her son-in-law a werewolf. Surely she'd known their deaths were a distinct possibility even before things went to hell in a handcart last year. But Colin was only sixteen, and most of the kids had gotten out fine. Dennis would be home now, in fact.

Andromeda stood up. "I'll go with you," she announced decisively, reaching under the changing table and pulling out a diaper bag. As Harry watched, she began filling it up with Teddy's things.

"You don't have to," he began, but hoped she would, anyway. He hadn't thought of her coming, but surely having a woman there would be better for Colin's family.

"Neither do you, really," she rejoined, tightening the cap on the talcum bottle. "But you're going in person. Why?"

Harry found it hard to explain. "He was my . . . my friend." But was it true? He hadn't been as nice to Colin as he could have.

"And you're mine."

The Creevey house was an old-style Tudor with a very well-kept front garden. Harry had his doubts about Apparating with a baby, but Andromeda turned on her heel and vanished as if she'd done it frequently, and Harry simply followed suit. Now they were standing at the front door, Teddy gazing at the tinkling wind chimes hung from the archway in wonder.

"I kept meaning to get wind chimes for Teddy," Andromeda said in a low voice. "They're supposed to help a baby sleep." Harry nodded, understanding that, far from being flippant, she was helping him delay knocking on the door. But he felt so much better now that he wasn’t alone, and he didn't have to count the leaves on the hanging ivy plant before thumping on the door.

There was a small rectangular window on each side of the door, and the thin curtain that covered the right-hand one twitched. Harry stood back so whoever it was could see him, and almost immediately the door opened inward. A woman who couldn't have been more than thirty-five but looked twenty stood there, and she looked so much like Colin and Dennis that Harry wondered uneasily if the boys had a Squib sister.

"Harry Potter," she said. "My sons talk about you so much, you'd think we were related."

Harry was taken aback. "Erm, thanks," he stammered.

"Dennis came home two nights ago and said there was an attack on the castle, that Colin pushed him through the Floo. He wanted to go back, but I closed up the fireplace." She looked right into Harry's eyes. "He's dead, isn't he? My boy." Harry nodded, and her face crumpled. "I felt it," she whispered, "but I kept hoping I was wrong." Vera stood back, wiping at her face with one cotton sleeve. "Come in."

Harry followed Andromeda, whose arms were full of Teddy, into the hallway, where he deposited the diaper bag. Vera led them into the parlour, where she'd evidently spent the night, as the throw pillows were all disarranged on the sofa and a blanket lay carelessly thrown back. Harry noticed that the sofa faced the fireplace, and as he passed, he could feel a heaviness in the air over there.

Vera noticed his hesitation. "I placed wards there so Dennis couldn't get through," she explained. "I told you I knew Colin was dead, but I slept here ever since anyway. I just thought that maybe . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she sank down onto the sofa cushions. Andromeda sat next to her, and Teddy reached out until Vera took him in her arms. She held him tight against her chest, rubbing his back gently as she cried. Andromeda had an arm around the woman's slight shoulders, and the two mothers grieved together over their children that would never call them "Mum" again.

Harry wandered away, leaving the two to comfort each other. His hands in his pockets, he made to sit down on the main staircase. But before he could sink down and lean his head against the balustrade, he heard a sniff above him and looked up to find the source. Dennis was sitting on the top step, his face tracked with tears.

Filled with compassion for Colin's young brother, Harry climbed the stairs and sat next to the skinny fifteen-year-old. Both boys stared at their hands for a few moments in silence. Finally, Dennis spoke.

"Colin really liked you," he said. His voice was stuffy, as if he had a cold. "Couldn't shut his trap the summer after his first year. He could be annoying."

Harry didn't know what to say. "I . . . sometimes I got cross with him, like when he tried to take a picture of Ron spitting up slugs. But he was just eager. Not mean like some other people. I wish . . . I wish I'd gotten to know him better. He was really nice."

"That's right," Dennis agreed. "Not a bit of meanness in Colin. Even to me. Mum couldn't understand it; she said her brothers always fought like magpies. But he never teased me or hurt me. When I got to Hogwarts, he'd already told me all about it, every little detail. Wrote to me all the time. That's why I wasn't afraid when I fell in the lake; Colin even told me about the Giant Squid."

"I remember," Harry said, smiling for the first time that day. "You came in all wet, bundled up in Hagrid's coat, but smiling like your face would crack. I wasn't in the least surprised the Hat put you in with us Gryffies."

Dennis smiled back, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "One of my roommates was all flipped out that night. Said his brother told him that House Prefects picked their students out, like choosing teams for games at school, and that if there was an odd number, the remainders got sent home. He always used to get picked last, so he was sure he'd get chucked." Harry could certainly sympathise; he'd always been the last one chosen, too. Dennis picked at his trouser seam. "Colin was never mean like that. We'd wrestle and stuff, and he'd hide my homework until we were about to miss the bus back in primary school, but I was never scared of him, and he never made me cry." Fresh tears were running down his face, and he ducked his head in shame. "Until now."

Harry reached over and pulled the little guy close in a one-armed hug. "I cried, too, Dennis," he said reassuringly. "When I saw him, I felt like sicking up. He was so brave."

"At least Mum can be proud of one of her sons," Dennis mumbled.

Harry was shocked. "How can you say that?" he demanded.

"I should have stayed, too," Dennis rejoined with another sniffle.

"You're only fifteen!" Harry exclaimed. "Only those of age were supposed to stay."

"Colin stayed," Dennis argued. "I would have too, honest. But I was trying not to get separated from him, and he kept pushing us along. I had his camera; he'd dropped it on the way, but I picked it up for him." Dennis gave a derisive snort. "Mum always said Colin would probably take his camera to Armageddon. Then when I came out of the Floo here, he wasn't with me. And then she came rushing into the room, and I couldn't go back, 'cause she was clutching at me, and . . ." He put his head in his hands. "He must have turned back once he knew I was safe."

"So you each wanted the other home safely, but if you'd known his plan, you would have stayed," Harry summarised.

Dennis nodded. "I could have saved him, maybe," he sobbed.

Harry gave him an exasperated swat on the back of the head. "Dennis, we said no under-seventeens for a reason. It's not about age per se, or even size or strength; it's the magic you've learned. You're two years behind the youngest fighters, and even the adults were sometimes no match for the Death Eaters!" The young boy didn't look convinced. "How do you think your mother would feel if she'd lost you, too?" Harry asked as a last resort. "You'd want her to be all alone?"

Dennis looked appalled. "Of course not," he exclaimed. "Dad died four years ago, right before I came to Hogwarts, and she was so sad. She cried enough when Colin left for school, but when I went, she had to go stay with Grandmum for a while. Said she couldn't stand the empty house."

"Sometimes being brave doesn't mean fighting," Harry said, wondering where the insight was coming from. It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what . . . "Sometimes it means not doing what's exciting, because other people need you with them. You're the only one your mum's got left now, and I'll bet she's so grateful."

Dennis looked pensive. "Guess so," he muttered. "I just feel useless."

"I know the feeling," Harry sighed, thinking of how Voldemort had taunted him with his greatest fear: that Harry had always let others die so that he could live. "But you know, there's a lot to be done right now. The castle's a mess, and there's almost no one in the new Ministry. Maybe you could come back with us and help with the castle, and your mum could get a job at the Ministry. That'll take your minds off things."

"Wicked!" Dennis shouted. He wasn't leaking tears anymore, and actually looked excited. "Mum had a job for a while as a Muggle liaison, but they chucked her when she protested an attack on the Prime Minister . . . you know, the other Minister." Harry smiled and nodded; Vera was just what they were looking for. "Let's go tell her!" Dennis exclaimed, vaulting off the top step and thundering down the staircase. "Mum!" he shouted, running into the parlour. "Harry says I can go help clean up the school, and maybe you can help the Ministry! Can we, Mum? Can we?"

Vera's and Andromeda's conversation halted. Vera looked uncertain. "I don't know, hon," she said slowly. "I don't like the idea of you being off where I can't see you, even though Andromeda says it's all over." She looked to Harry for help.

"Well, I'm not going to lie to you, there're probably still a few Death Eaters around," Harry admitted. "But let's face it, last time Voldemort" — Vera's face blanched — "fell, they didn't do much afterward. He's like . . . the master switch or something. The others don't work without him." Vera nodded, and seemed to understand the essence of his weak metaphor well enough.

"Kingsley, the new Minister, has only a few people he can trust to rebuild the Ministry," Harry continued. "Almost everyone that was there right at the end was either in league with the Death Eaters or at least willing to go along with their little Holocaust." His eyes darkened as he remembered that poor Mrs. Cattermole on trial, surrounded by dementors as she pleaded her blood status. "He'd be so happy to have you."

Vera nodded. "I understand," she said. Dennis was practically foaming at the mouth, and she glanced over at him. "And you said Dennis would help at Hogwarts?"

"That's right," Harry affirmed. "We're cleaning up the mess, and we're going to have to reconstruct the student roster to include all those that got banned over blood status. And . . ." He blew out his breath. "Hell, the list goes on."

"Mum, come on," Dennis pleaded. "Colin wouldn't want me to sit around. And I have to go back to school next year; how can I let other people do all the work?"

His mother smiled fondly at her remaining son. "I just want to keep you close," she said, and his ears turned pink with embarrassment. "But I guess I'm being selfish. You'll come home every night?"

"No, he won't," Andromeda spoke up, and they all looked at her, surprised. "Because you're both moving in with me." Vera opened her mouth, but Andromeda put her hand up. "I'm going to work at the Ministry, too. Kingsley won't mind my bringing Teddy along. And we'll all go home together at night. I don't fancy staying alone, either."

Vera looked relieved. "Well, that sounds like a plan," she said.

Harry took out the watch Mrs. Weasley had given him on his last birthday; it was already noon. "Why don't we head back to the school? The elves have been feeding us up like you wouldn't believe lately. I don't know what Ron and Hermione have planned for today, but at least you won't be here alone."

It was agreed, and Vera took down the wards around the fireplace. Harry saw a couple of tears steal down her cheeks; he knew she'd finally let go of the hope that Colin would step out of the grate. One by one, they took a pinch of powder and shouted, "Hogwarts!" Dennis was so excited that he caught his head on the low-hung mantel, but he just laughed and threw down his handful of powder.

Harry went last, and as he turned in the fireplace to face the room before leaving, he caught sight of a camera lying on the cocktail table. On an impulse, Harry pocketed the small item, which had to be the one Dennis grabbed from Colin. Whatever pictures were in there, he wanted to develop. If there really were some from that night, they should be published.

It was all Harry could think of to do for Colin, who would have walked through fire to hear Harry call him his friend.