What's The Story Of The Month?

Chapter 22

THE BLACK SISTERS

Toujours pur.

Always pure.

Pure of blood and status, that is. Not pure of heart, certainly, and in the Black household, Narcissa Black knew exactly how important it was to keep that distinction.

See, purity to the Blacks was a careful state. It should always be pruned and trimmed to be purely perfect. 

If someone happened to go and, well, disrupt the balance… they would be disowned for the sake of the family.

That had happened twice before.

Once, with Alphard Black.

And the second happened five minutes ago in front of Narcissa’s very eyes, when Druella Black pressed the tip of her wand onto Andromeda Black’s portrait on the Black Family Tree, burning a scorch mark to sever the tie.

She could feel the snap. It was like a thrum that had been in her blood, a silent acknowledgement of the coven of sisters. Now, it was only two. Andromeda was gone.

Not physically, but emotionally—gone.

With a bitter sigh, she wondered how Andromeda had managed to change so drastically.

—

Narcissa glanced up as Andromeda entered. “Romy,” she said immediately, jumping up. “Andromeda, you’ll never believe it.”

Andromeda quirked a grin and sat down on the bed opposite. “What happened, honey?”

Narcissa placed her hands in her lap, her eyes sparkling as she recounted. “I saw a Muggle today! They were—they were really nice, actually.”

Andromeda’s smile disappeared in a whit. “You saw a Mudblood? You spoke to one?”

Narcissa carried on, unperturbed. “Yes! I dropped my purse, and he picked it up, and then he started talking to me. His name’s Daniel and he was ever so lovely, d’you think I could ask Mother and Father to let him come over? I told him I lived in a mansion and he said I was so lucky and—”

“Enough,” Andromeda’s voice carried a tone of finality, her face as still as stone as she rose elegantly. “I’ve heard enough. Claudette!” The family house-elf appeared obediently, already performing a bow. “Take her purse. Wash it thoroughly, do whatever you need to scrub it clean.”

Narcissa watched in confusion as Claudette took the purse and vanished obediently.

“An—”

“Shush,” Andromeda interrupted imperiously. “You are not to speak of that Mudblood again. And you are not to interact with Mudbloods at all, do you understand? They are filth, they are horrible. They are not worthy of us.”

The familiar spark of defiance rose up in Narcissa’s chest. “You aren’t Mother,” she retorted quickly. “I can talk to whoever I want!”

Andromeda regarded her coolly, speaking with that patronising tone of hers. “If I told Mother, I can guarantee you that she would tell Father and then, Narcissa, do you know what they’d do?”

Sulkily, she shook her head.

“They would curse him,” Andromeda said carefully. “Curse him very badly. Him and his family. Do you want that to happen?”

Eyes bright with fear, she shook her head a second time. 

Andromeda knelt down to meet her eyes. “Then you’re not going to interact with a Mudblood, are you?”

She shook her head a third and final time.

—

When Andromeda tossed her hair, she could see the lovestruck gaze of half a dozen young wizards.

Not that any of them were suitable.

Nor that any would ever dare to approach her. She strode to the library, taking a neat seat at a table and flipping open her Arithmancy textbook with a painful sigh. After a few endless minutes had rolled by, she let her gaze lift, trail around the room. The library was fairly empty today, as a matter of fact. A couple students were studying. For some reason, one caught her eye—a rather messy-looking fellow.

His hair was mussed, not quite artfully, but rather just tousled and messy in a way that simply looked tangled. Her own hair tingled at the thought. He was a little brown, a tanned boy, and he looked quite casual. His robes weren’t on, which was a strange thing because it was still a school day. She felt the strangest urge to march over and reprimand him.

Technically, she could do so as a Prefect. But that would be wasting time, and Blacks don’t waste time. 

With a sigh, she got back to her Arithmancy book, but in a few minutes, the boy shifted, and her gaze immediately went back to him. This time, he looked up, looking rather smug to have seen someone staring at him until he saw Andromeda’s face. Then it morphed into startled, before changing back into smugness, infuriatingly male smugness.

Ugh.

Arithmancy, Andromeda tried to tell herself. That’s what’s important.

When the boy lifted his book again, she noticed the cover.

Arithmancy.

Stop. Focusing. On. Him!

He was annoying her tremendously. 

Arithmancy, arithmancy, ARITHMANCY. Numbers, equations, and graphs. That was more important than a boy. 

After a good quarter of an hour staring at the book, she gave up.

I’m definitely going to fail.

Then again, Professor Bingam was a nerdish fellow. Always eager to please and technically kind of strict, but he had his favourites. And thanks to Andromeda’s endless sucking up to teachers, she was one of them.

Maybe I can convince him to raise my grade. I only really need an Acceptable, anyway.

—

The room was silent as the students worked hard on their tests. Andromeda bit her lip, staring at an equation. She could’ve sworn that she’d seen it before, but her brain evaded her with the solution.

Her eyes drifted around the room and—

The boy! The boy who’d been studying Arithmancy the other day was working feverishly on his test. Right before he turned his paper, Andromeda craned her neck to see what he was writing before quickly copying down the same.

Cheater, her brain sang. I’m not a cheater, she argued back furiously. That implies plurality of the action, and really, it was just that one time.

Except the next page was also full of numbers she didn’t know.

And the boy looked to be writing awfully quickly…

By the end of the test, half of Andromeda’s paper was copied from the boy.

I’m still not a cheater, she defended herself to her brain. It’s just one test. So it only counts once. Therefore, not a cheater.

It was very annoying to argue with herself when she knew she was lying.

Two days later, she flushed a deep red when Professor Bingam gave her a disappointed look and pushed down her paper. “Acceptable, Miss Black. Normally, you’d get an E. What happened?” He peered at her, clearly worried.

She cleared her throat, having already prepared her plea. “I’m so sorry, Professor. I’ve just been terribly distracted, you know…my uncle has taken ill recently and I am quite worried for him. I simply didn’t have enough time to study.” She gazed up at him as forlornly as she could manage.

As she’d expected, the professor’s eyes softened. “Well, if it’s just this one time, Miss Black…tell you what, your grade was only a couple percentage points away from an E. The grade boundaries might just magically switch in my drawer, but do take care not to vanish that red pen and write an E.” He gave her a kind yet mischievous wink before distributing the rest of the papers.

Andromeda slumped her shoulders in relief. That’d keep up her straight-E average. Technically, she wasn’t really lying in her plea either. She had dozens of uncles; surely one of them was at the very least down with a cold.

Anyway, it was worth it when she vanished the ink and wrote a clear red E on her paper at the top and felt pride inflate her lungs.

—

It wasn’t every day Andromeda was pulled into a side corridor. Her mouth opened in an indignant cry as she yanked her arm back and came face-to-face with—

The boy.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of caramel brown, and he had that awful smirk on his face again. “What’s the matter with you?” She demanded imperiously. “Do you always pull girls into corridors?”

His mouth lifted in a teasing smile. “My apologies, milady.”

She gave him a scathing look. “If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working.”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” the boy drawled. “I simply am, it’s a gift.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You are supremely ungifted.”

The boy tutted and shook her head. “It’s wrong to lie, milady. And you’ve now done it thrice.”

“Thrice?” she stared at him in surprise.

“Once on your test, when you copied my paper.” He flashed a grin that did not make her heart speed up. Four times, her heart sang gleefully.

She squashed it.

“A second when you gave Professor Bingam that excuse to bump up your grade,” he continued, and her jaw dropped, ready to interject.

He stopped her. “And the third just now, because I am most definitely gifted.”

Andromeda gave him a heated glare. “I did not cheat!”

“Oh, really?” He quirked his brow playfully. “So, copying a bunch of my answers on the test isn’t cheating?”

“I did not copy!”

“I could see you!” He laughed. “You weren’t terribly subtle about it, either. Professor’s just half-blind.”

She crossed her arms defiantly. “I was not cheating. And it’s horribly ungentlemanly to accuse me of doing so.”

He laughed again. He had a rather pleasant laugh. “I think Professor will disagree, milady.”

Her eyes widened, and she shot him a deadly look. “You’re not to tell him a word.”

“But you didn’t cheat?”

“But an accusation would make it seem like I did!” She protested.

He grinned again, spinning her around as she cried out in vain. “Then I guess you’re going to have to make sure I don’t tell him, Miss Black.”

“What do you want?” Andromeda demanded furiously. “Money? I’ve plenty.”

“Money!” The boy wrinkled his nose. “What use have I for money? How terribly ridiculous. No, I’d appreciate something better.”

“Like what?”

“How about…” The boy tapped his chin mischievously, and his eyes widened. “A date? Hogsmeade weekend’s coming up and I think it’d be lovely.”

Andromeda gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Not at all. You, me, Hogsmeade, next weekend, Madam Puddifoots,” he wiggled his brows.

“No!”

“Three Broomsticks?” He pleaded. 

She glared at him. “No to the date, you—you—”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” he interjected smoothly, snatching her hand and planting a quick kiss before she could withdraw it in disgust. “That’s my offer. Date for me hiding my exposé.”

He began to saunter away. “Wait!” She called hurriedly. “What—when—”

“The Three Broomsticks, next weekend, milady! Ask for Ted Tonks!” The boy disappeared around the corner.

Ted Tonks.

What a supremely horrible name.

—

Andromeda felt utter resentment brew within her as she stirred her Butterbeer, glaring furiously out of the window of the Three Broomsticks. Not only had that absolute hooligan of a wizard—and whose name was Ted Tonks, anyway? Sounded ridiculous—blackmailed her, but he was late. An unforgivable offence, in Andromeda’s not-so-humble opinion.

As she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, somebody slid into the booth, beaming that infuriating smile. “Dromeda, milady. How wonderful to see you on this fine Hogsmeade day.”

Andromeda gave him a scathing look. “You’re late.”

“My deepest apologies.” He tipped an imaginary hat, tapping Madam Rosmerta nearby. “A butterbeer, please, darling.”

Rosmerta looked rather miffed at this but simply moved away. 

“Let’s not bother with pleasantries,” Andromeda began, or at least, she tried to before Ted butted in.

“Oh, no, do let’s. I love pleasantries. And I’d love to see the excellent ones that her lady highness Andromeda Black was brought up with.”

She scowled. “You’re mocking me.”

“Am I?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Ever so sorry about that.”

“You’re not, are you?”

“Not at all,” he grinned gaily at her. “Why don’t you want to bother with pleasantries, Dromeda?”

“Do not call me that.” Her patience was rapidly thinning. “You want something.”

“Yes, this date.”

“No, I—” She rubbed her temples, already tired. “You want something besides this date and besides money. What is it?”

“Can I not simply desire your company?” Ted questioned sweetly, reaching for her hand. She jerked it back, looking at him with utter disdain.

“You cannot.”

“But I do.”

She scowled. Annoying, impossible, incorrigible…of all the people, this was the one she was stuck with. “Well, something else, then.”

He hummed curiously, sipping from his Butterbeer. “Well, now that you mention it…”

“I knew it.”

“There’s a Slug Club party coming up soon, and I hear that a very ravishing Black was invited.” He beamed at her.

She wrinkled her nose. “...I’m not part of the scummy Slug Club; that’s my sister, who doesn’t attend any one of those anyway.”

“Oh,” his expression dimmed before brightening again. “Well, I am, and I’d really rather I have a date this time so that Slughorn doesn’t pester me too much.”

She recoiled immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Who said I was asking you?” His expression was madly, annoyingly delighted. “Perhaps I wanted you to persuade a friend.”

“Oh,” Andromeda furrowed her brows. For some reason, there was the strangest swirl of disappointment in her heart—in the complete depths of it, where absolutely no one could see.

Ted started to laugh. “Dromeda, don’t look so heartbroken. Of course, I’m asking you,” he blew her a teasing kiss. “I’d be a right prick if I didn’t after that.”

She gave him a rather deadly-looking scowl that only seemed to make him laugh harder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you’ll be coming, won’t you?”

She heaved a sigh. “I need a date.” He opened his mouth, and she gave him a glare. “Of the party, idiot.”

He shrugged, as if to say you didn’t specify.

It was maddening.

—

Andromeda folded her arms outside the Slytherins’ common room, looking rather annoyed. She checked her watch for the time. Ted was almost late. Give it two minutes and he would be. Right as another minute ticked by, Ted darted around the corner. “Hello, milady.”

She scowled at him, but she couldn’t help the almost-tug of a smile. His annoying tendencies were just slightly growing on her. “Quit it, Tonks.”

“Charming as ever. And—” He let out a whistle as he eyed her outfit. “Looking like a real charmer too, aren’t you?”

Andromeda rolled her eyes. She had consulted Narcissa for what to wear to the party (not to look good for Ted, she clarified to herself), and Narcissa had proceeded to tell her that the one time she had attended, it was a semi-formal and so that was exactly how Andromeda chose to dress. Lilac dress robes draped over her figure, pearls at her ears and a simple chain on her throat. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

Ted beamed in response and took her by the arm, much to her irritation. He was warm. All smiles and sweet, his skin heating next to hers. It was unusual in the generally frigid dungeons.

Ted grinned as he steered them toward the party, his fingers light on her arm but steady, like he knew she’d bolt if he gave her the chance. “So, tell me, do I get the honour of at least one dance, or am I doomed to watch from afar while you glare at anyone who so much as steps on your hem?”

Andromeda scoffed. “What makes you think I’ll dance at all?”

“Oh, come on. You went through all the effort of dressing up, pearls and all. Might as well make it worth your while,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “Besides, if you don’t dance with me, I might have to ask ol’ Sluggy instead.”

She stopped short, shooting him an incredulous look. “You wouldn’t.”

Ted smirked but didn’t push his luck. “Relax, milady.” He tugged her forward again, and before she could protest, they stepped into the party.

Slughorn’s office had been expanded and completely transformed, draped in silver and emerald, the torches dimmed to let enchanted lanterns cast soft, flickering light. The music thrummed at a respectable volume—not too wild, not too dull—and the room was filled with elegantly dressed students, their laughter and chatter weaving through the space.

Andromeda held her chin high, scanning the crowd. Narcissa was speaking with Lucius near the fireplace, while Bellatrix lounged on a green-velvet settee, her sharp eyes watching everything, missing nothing. A few glances flicked in Andromeda’s direction, some approving, some skeptical, but none daring to comment aloud.

Ted, on the other hand, looked around with open amusement. “Huh. Not bad. I was expecting more brooding and ominous chanting.”

Andromeda pinched his arm, but he just laughed, unfazed.

Then, before she could say anything, a voice cut through the room.

“Andromeda, darling, what is that on your arm?”

Bellatrix’s words dripped with exaggerated sweetness, but Andromeda could hear the steel underneath.

Ted, the absolute menace that he was, squeezed her arm tighter and flashed his most charming grin. “That would be me.”

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Andromeda gritted her teeth, giving Bellatrix a forced smile. Over the years, her younger sister had grown bolder, too ingrained into their parents’ rule. Sometimes it scared her. 

Sometimes, Bellatrix scared her.

“This is Edward,” Andromeda introduced, a slight bit too hasty. Ted is short for Edward, isn’t it? Ted gave her a rather bemused look. She gave his hand a sharp squeeze, like let me handle this, please.

“Edward, what, Andromeda?” Bella questioned menacingly.

“Edward Tonks,” she returned.

A triumphant look came into Bella’s eyes. “That’s a rather unusual name,” she purred. “Edward, where is your family from?”

Ted blinked. “Er…Suffolk?”

“Suffolk,” Bella repeated, drawing out the syllables in a way that not-so-subtly suggested her utter disdain. “And which family, pray tell, are you descended from?”

Ted gave Andromeda a sidelong glance, like what is your sister doing? Before answering, “The…Tonks' family.”

Bella’s expression transformed into poorly-concealed delight hidden under a mask of rather pretentious-looking outrage. “Andromeda,” she said in a scandalised tone. “He’s a Mudblood!”

Ted’s hand dropped from hers, and Andromeda shot him a quick look before turning to Bellatrix. “He’s not a Mudblood,” she said quickly. “You’re half-blooded, aren’t you?” With an awful sense of realisation, she remembered that she’d never actually bothered to check what he was. But his name should’ve been a giveaway. She’d just been so very distracted by his presence.

“No,” Ted’s voice had gone curt and cold. “Muggle-born,” he shot Bellatrix a nasty glare.

Well.

Now she was really in trouble.

Ted’s terse reply hung in the air like a curse. Andromeda’s pulse pounded as she watched his hand fall from hers. Bellatrix’s smile curdled into something cruelly satisfied. For a long, breathless moment, the room’s chatter faded into a low murmur, and Andromeda felt the weight of her family’s expectations press in on her.

“Edward,” Bellatrix drawled, voice dripping with disdain, “how can a Muggle-born carry such a name?” Her eyes glittered with malicious mirth. “One might hardly expect him to be worthy of our company.”

Ted’s jaw tightened, his gaze snapping into Bellatrix’s with an icy glare that silenced even her mocking tone. His retort, terse and final, had been enough. He walked away from them, and gradually, the party picked up again.

Narcissa had walked over, leaving Lucius behind.

“Andromeda,” she said in warning. “You can’t possibly not have known of his status.”

“I certainly didn’t,” Andromeda retorted, trying to remain calm. “Why else would I be with a Mudblood?”

With a wince, she realised her tone had gone higher—and louder. For a moment, Ted looked back, and for those few seconds, she faltered.

Because his eyes weren’t angry.

They were disappointed.

And that, she realised with a heavy heart, hurt quite a good bit more.

“Good,” Bellatrix’s voice drew her gaze away. “Because we all know how that would look to Mother and Father,” her smile was icy-cold, almost like a sneer. “I’m going to find Rodolphus and Rabastan.”

She turned to stride away, the crowd parting.

When did she go from a sister to something I was scared of? Andromeda thought in despair. She was meant to be the oldest, the one who knew everything. The one who did everything right. The one who would never, ever question the Blacks.

So why was she doing so now?

—

Andromeda hadn’t seen Ted since the party.

By that which she meant, Ted had clearly not wanted to even look at her.

In Arithmancy, he remained stubbornly turned away, and in the library, no matter how intensely she glared at his figure, his head remained stubbornly bent over his book.

It was slightly hurtful. Slightly. But not more than that, of course, because she was a Black and he was a Mudblood.

The two most definitely did not mix.

Except for some reason, she sort of wished that they did. Because Ted was kind of nice. In a very strange, real, and funny sort of way.

He wasn’t the sort of nice that she’d grown up with. The perfect smiles, the extravagant compliments, the heaping of gifts. No, Ted was nice in a friendly sort of way. It seemed much more real. The teasing he did, the silly way that he moved and pranced about.

Unfortunately for Andromeda, the two did not mix, and she was resigned only to the brief memory of his weird tendencies.

—

“Meda!” Narcissa trilled, sweeping into their dorm room. Andromeda turned. 

“What is it?”

Narcissa practically glowed with delight. “Lucius and I’s engagement party has been set. It’s to start on the 6th.”

Andromeda ah’d in realisation. “Oh, that’s lovely, Cissa. I’m happy for you.”

Narcissa beamed at her. “Right, but I have bad news.”

Andromeda cocked her head. “Do tell.”

“Well,” Narcissa began. “You know how Illura Malfoy is, right? Terribly uptight–” She threw a cursory glance towards the door, just to ensure nobody heard. Andromeda suppressed a smile. “And so she wants the reception on the 6th to be quite private, just the Malfoys and us.”

Andromeda paused, thinking. Why was that date so familiar? Then she realised. “Oh, but Cissa—”

“Your N.E.W.T.S. start on the 6th,” Narcissa finished for her. “I know. I already told Mother. She’s not too pleased, but there’s nothing quite to do about it; you’ll have to miss the reception.” She made a little pouty face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Cissa,” Andromeda sighed annoyedly. Damn those exams. She did think the reception might be nice to attend.

Then she remembered the Malfoys and thought, well, the exams can’t be that bad.

“But you’ll come to the rest of the party, right? It’s on the weekend, anyhow,” Narcissa peered at her in worry.

“Of course I will.” 

—

Andromeda was pretty sure that if she read another number, her eyes would drop out of their sockets.

She’d been tirelessly studying for Arithmancy the past few days. If she didn’t get an O on the exam, her mother and father would be furious. 

She felt a hand tapping her shoulder, and she wearily looked up to see Rabastan grinning down at her. Unlike his brother, Rodolphus, who made for the perfect fit to Bellatrix, Rabastan was generally quite pleasant to be around.

“Come on, Meda,” he laughed, flipping her book shut. “You can’t study all day. Come to the lake with us. We’re not swimming, but the weather’s divine.”

She wrinkled her nose. “But–”

“No buts!” Rabastan interrupted, pulling her out of her chair. “Up you get. Don’t you see how deserted the library is? Everyone is studying outside.”

Andromeda groaned, but allowed herself to be pulled up and hauled outside, though she did grab her Arithmancy textbook with her. 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the weather really was quite nice. She lay with her legs sprawled out against a tree, textbook in hand. Bellatrix and Rodolphus chatted aimlessly, with Narcissa and Lucius discussing Astronomy. 

All of a sudden, Rabastan eyed someone walking along the lakeside. “Oi, Mudblood!” Bellatrix called out loudly. Naturally, Andromeda lifted her head and paled when she saw Ted. This is not going to end well.

Ted turned their way, his eyebrows raised. They drew together in a frown upon seeing the Slytherins. He continued silently on his way, and Bella exchanged a look of glee with Rodolphus. Andromeda knew that face—it was the face Bella used when she liked to play. And not in the fun kind of way.

“Come on, Mudblood! Don’t ignore me when I talk to you,” Bellatrix drawled mockingly. “Who said you can walk along here? We’re using this space.”

“Clear off, Tonks,” Narcissa called out, a clear warning in her voice. Get out before she gets worse.

Andromeda’s book snapped shut.

Ted continued walking and damn him because he was starting to whistle.

Bellatrix’s look melted into clear, unbridled irritation. “Mudblood,” she snapped, standing. “I said, don’t you dare ignore me.”

Ted continued to ignore them. He was almost around the lake’s edge.

“Tonks!” Lucius snapped annoyedly. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

She prayed Ted would not answer. Thankfully, he seemed to have some brains left over, because he stayed silent—except for that infernal whistling.

Bella was practically blowing steam by now. She whipped out her wand and shouted a spell: “Levicorpus!”

“Protego!” The spell came from Andromeda’s wand so fast she barely even registered that she’d sprung upright, her wand clutched in her hand.

The Slytherins—and Ted—turned to look at her. She swallowed.

“Enough, Bellatrix,” she said calmly. “We came here to study—”

“You dare raise your wand against me, sister?” Bellatrix did not look appeased. She looked furious.

Andromeda’s heart was beating far, far too loudly. 

“How dare you?” Bellatrix snarled. “You’re defending a Mudblood?” Her tone dripped with disdain.

“Don’t call him that,” Andromeda said at once. Hurriedly, she added for the Slytherin’s benefit, “Someone could hear and report to McGonagall.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you before!” Bellatrix said scornfully. “It wasn’t a mistake showing up with him at all at that party, was it? You’re with a Mudblood.”

“I most certainly am not,” Andromeda retorted hotly. “But I’ll thank you to keep things civil, Bella.”

“No, no,” Bella said, her tone trembling with rage. “You’ve made your choice. I’ve accepted all your transgressions…brushed aside the hints…covered your trail for mother and father,” she spat the words out in an ugly tone of voice, rising by the minute. “Crucio!”

This time, the Shield Charm came from Ted.

And from there—

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos.

—

Andromeda, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Lucius, Rabastan, and Ted sat in McGonagall’s office. It was really almost comical the way they were sitting—Rabastan, Rodolphus, Lucius, and Bellatrix sat on the left, Ted on the right, and Andromeda had been left the supremely awkward middle seat.

She could feel the glares from either side.

McGonagall rested her head in her hands for a few moments before she raised it.

“Duelling on school grounds,” she said finally. “Duelling. With curses and hexes. Do you all realise the danger you were in?”

“That was the point, you old bat,” Rabastan muttered quietly to Lucius.

Terrified though she was, Andromeda couldn’t quite manage to stifle a grin.

Ted scowled.

“Who started this foolishness?” McGonagall demanded.

“Bellatrix,” Ted said at once.

“Tonks,” Rodolphus, Lucius, and Rabastan snapped.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Andromeda. She sank a little lower in her seat, a flush crawling up her neck. “Who started this, Miss Black?” She questioned sternly.

Andromeda sank a little lower as she mumbled out, “Bellatrix.”

She could feel the betrayal, disgust, and utter fury from the four Slytherins to her left.

“Right,” McGonagall said calmly. “You four. Stay behind. You two—Miss Black and Mr Tonks—you may go, but keep in mind that you will have detention with me until the end of the week.”

The end of the week? It was a Friday.

Hastily, Andromeda made her way out. Ted pulled her aside as she was about to walk off, scrutinising her carefully. “Why’d you do it?” He asked finally.

“Do what?”

“All of it,” he said. “The shield charm. The duel. The don’t-call-him-a-Mudbood. And ratting out your sister.”

She avoided looking at him. “Tried to avoid trouble, I guess,” she said half-heartedly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, moving to meet her gaze. “Well, that didn’t work. And neither did your lie. You’re really terrible at lying.”

She huffed, but it was true. “Well, I—I don’t know. I just…didn’t quite think it was right, I suppose.”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” she admitted heavily. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Andromeda exclaimed irritably. “I just didn’t, alright? And clearly, it’s now cost me just about everything.” She crossed her arms, upset.

Ted’s face softened a fraction. He looked a little more awkward now. “Sorry,” he muttered. “And thanks. It was nice of you to…defend me.”

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. 

He nodded at her again in an awkward manner before beginning to walk off.

For some reason she didn’t quite know, she called out after him—“Ted!” He turned. She said the first excuse that came into her mind. “Did you study for the exams?”

A tiny smile spread on his face, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, you?”

“A bit,” she admitted ruefully. “But I might need some help.”

He peered at her. “There’s no cheating in the final exams, you know.”

His tone was playful, but still, heat rose to her cheeks. “I was not—”

“Save it, Dromeda,” he interrupted, a real grin curling his lips. “You’ll never convince me.” He paused as if considering something and then spoke again, a bit hesitantly. “I could help you, if you’d like—”

“Sure,” she blurted out. “That’d be—really great.”

He gave her another charming smile. “Great.”

—

Ted was waiting for her outside; they’d both completed their Arithmancy exams. “How’d it go?” He questioned immediately.

“So good,” she gushed, giving him a warm hug. They’d grown increasingly closer over the past few weeks—a friendship which had been rather bolstered by the entire Slytherin house’s alienation of her. Even Rabastan and Narcissa had begun to avoid her. She tried not to think about what would be awaiting her at home. “Thank you so much. I swear, half of this stuff I didn’t know a month ago.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughed, grinning down at her. Andromeda was fairly tall, but unfairly so, Ted had grown a few inches taller as of late. “I guess you’ll have your six Outstandings after all, huh?”

“Don’t give me hope!” She sighed dramatically. 

His eyes sparkled and he smiled, brushing her hair back out of her face. “I’m not, I’m serious. You’re smart, you just need to be taught properly.”

She blushed a little. “Thanks. For everything. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dromeda.” He paused, like he was considering something. “D’you…would you, er, like to…”

She cocked her head obliviously. “Like to…?”

His face was bashful. “Er…would you like to come to the Three Broomsticks with me? You know…to celebrate exams ending.”

Andromeda smiled at Ted. “I’d love to.”

—

Written by Sara Rowan.
Edited by Hazel Antler.
Proofread by Daphne Clarke.