Andromeda and Ted
In the grand dining hall of Noctis Veil, every member of the Black family was assembled beneath a vaulted ceiling of flickering candlelight and stern ancestral portraits. The atmosphere was as oppressive as it was elegant, every face fixed in a mask of impeccable decorum. Tonight, however, the silence was shattered by the trembling determination of Andromeda as she rose from her seat at the head of the long ebony table.
“Father, Mother,” she began, her voice soft yet resolute, “I must tell you a truth that I can no longer hide.” For a moment, the hall held its breath. Cygnus’s eyes narrowed imperiously, while Soleil’s refined features betrayed a flicker of alarm. At the far end, Narcissa and Hyacinth sat silently; Narcissa’s perfectly manicured hand clutched her napkin a bit too tightly, and Hyacinth’s gaze darted between her parents and Andromeda with a blend of worry and silent protest.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Andromeda continued, “I’m married. He is a man of remarkable kindness and honor. His compassion and unwavering support have shown me a life beyond our oppressive traditions. I love him deeply, he sees me for who I truly am. His name is… Ted..Ted Tonks”
A ripple of shocked murmurs passed through the dining hall. Portraits began murmuring to each other, wondering who exactly was this Ted Tonks. Soleil’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward, her voice measured yet laced with concern, “Ted Tonks? And what virtues does this man possess that compels you to forsake our tradition? Are you with child? Why have you gotten married without the proper courting rituals?”
Andromeda’s eyes filled with tears, but her voice grew firmer as she pressed on, “He is gentle and wise, with a heart that is open and pure. He treats me with respect and kindness, never trying to mold me into someone I’m not. His strength is not in blood, but in his character—so profound that it makes me feel free.” For a moment, her words hung in the air like a fragile promise of a different life.
At that, Cygnus’s previously bored expression hardened into cold fury. “And what family does this Ted Tonks come from?” he demanded, his tone rising imperiously. “Speak plainly, Andromeda.”
Swallowing hard, she whispered, “He is muggle-born.”
The word hit the room like a thunderclap. Cygnus’s eyes flared with outrage as he bellowed, “Muggle-born? You would dare sully our pure blood with such filth? You dare betray the legacy of Black?”
In the charged silence that followed, Hyacinth’s eyes welled with tears—tears she fought to hide behind her long lashes. Though bound by the strict code of decorum, her trembling fingers betrayed her inner turmoil as they gripped the edge of her porcelain plate. Narcissa, too, showed subtle signs of distress: a slight tightening of her jaw, a fleeting, pained glance exchanged with Hyacinth that spoke of shared sorrow and unspoken regret.
Cygnus slammed his fist down on the table, the sound reverberating like a death knell. “You have not only betrayed us—you have shamed this house! Just as I punished Bellatrix for her insolence, so too will you feel the consequences of your treachery!” His voice, now seething with a wrath reminiscent of darker times, filled every corner of the hall.
Bellatrix leaned forward from her seat, her tone low and cutting, “I warned you, Andromeda. Defiance always comes at a cost.” Her words, though few, were as sharp as broken glass.
Soleil, eyes glistening with unshed tears, pleaded once more, “Andromeda, please, think of your sisters—of the family. Has that man imperiused you? You could be bespelled by a man whose lineage you know nothing of?”
At this, a storm of fury and sorrow broke over Andromeda. “No!” she cried, her voice rising in a raw, anguished outburst. “I am not stupid, nor am I controlled! I love him, and he loves me—without manipulation or deceit! I have chosen my own path, and I will not live a lie for the sake of your archaic ideals!”
In that moment, as her impassioned words rang out, Hyacinth’s eyes shone with silent, desperate empathy while Narcissa’s gaze flickered with equal parts sorrow and fierce disappointment. Their hearts ached but bound by duty, they remained silent witnesses to the unraveling of their family’s carefully maintained façade.
Unable to endure the crushing weight of her father’s rage and the bitter sting of rejection, Andromeda’s resolve crumbled. With a final, anguished look that mingled sorrow, defiance, and fierce independence, she turned and fled. Her bare feet pounded the cold stone floor as she dashed through the corridors, the echo of her sobs trailing behind her like shattered dreams.
In the wake of her departure, the dining hall fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
-
Hogwarts, Andromeda’s second year
In the dark classroom lit by the soft glow of suspended candles, Andromeda found herself paired with Ted Tonks for Potions class. Andromeda’s potion sputtered unevenly, and she bit her lip in frustration when she saw Ted’s brew glowing with perfect consistency.
“Hey, you okay with that stirring?” Ted asked, leaning in with a friendly grin as he demonstrated the steady hand movement he’d perfected.
“I always mess up the timing,” Andromeda admitted, cheeks flushing. It was improper for a lady of House Black to be this terrible at potions. “How do you do it so effortlessly?”
Ted’s eyes crinkled in an easy smile. “I just take my time. It’s like making a cup of tea—slow and steady. Here, try this.” His gentle guidance and playful tone made her unconsciously laugh. She raises her right hand to cover her mouth, eyes widening at her outburst.
In that moment, as they exchanged quiet laughter and whispered tips about brewing the perfect antidote, their mutual friendship began to blossom.
-
Hogwarts, Fourth Year
On a crisp autumn afternoon, Ted invited Andromeda to the Hufflepuff common room, and they sat in a small alcove, away from prying eyes. He opened his robe and pulled out a well-worn book of classic muggle fairy tales and a peculiar, shining gadget he called a “portable music player.”
As they sat by the fireplace, Ted passed her the book. “This is one of my favorites,” he said softly. “It’s amazing how stories carry such simple, beautiful truths.”
Andromeda flipped through its pages with wide-eyed wonder. “It’s so... ordinary,” she remarked in her polished, posh tone, unaware of the sting her words might carry. “I suppose muggles are content with such trivialities.”
Ted’s smile faltered for a split second as hurt flashed across his face, but he quickly steadied his voice. “I know it may seem trivial to you, but to me, these stories are what I grew up on, it reminds me of my childhood. Muggle things have their own magic, too.”
Realizing her unintended insensitivity, Andromeda’s eyes softened in genuine remorse. “I’m sorry, Ted. I didn’t mean to belittle something you cherish. Please, tell me more about why these stories matter to you.”
Ted’s gentle smile returned. “Thank you, Andromeda. I’d love to share, maybe we can listen to some music together later. We should really talk about what you think of muggles and muggle things…”
-
Hogwarts, Sixth Year
In the Astronomy Tower on a cool autumn evening, Ted was finishing his round of prefect duties when he noticed Andromeda sitting quietly by the tall, arched window. The ancient stone walls of the tower framed the glittering night sky, and a gentle breeze stirred the pages of a forgotten notebook at her feet. He paused for a moment, then walked over casually.
"Hey, Andromeda," he said, his tone light and warm. "Fancy a bit of stargazing? It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?"
Andromeda offered him a small smile and looked up at the endless sky. "Oh, hi, Ted. I…I just needed some air." she replied softly. "And the stars... they always help me breathe."
They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, simply watching the twinkles in the sky. Ted leaned against the window sill next to her, his gaze casually drifting from the stars to her face. "You've been quieter than usual lately," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything all right?"
At first, Andromeda hesitated, her eyes fixed on a bright constellation. The quiet of the tower gave her space, and she fiddled with a loose strand of hair. Finally, she exhaled slowly. "I don't really know, Ted. Lately, I feel… torn. Like there are these two sides of me pulling in opposite directions."
Ted's expression softened further as he turned to face her fully. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly, his concern genuine but casual as if he were discussing the weather rather than matters of the heart.
Andromeda's gaze drifted back to the stars as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, when I look at you, I feel this pull. A part of me wants to run free, to choose my own path, but then I remember my family's expectations. It’s like I'm caught between the life they demand and the life I wish I could have."
Her eyes filled with conflicted emotion, and for a long moment, she simply stared at the shimmering night. "It scares me," she admitted, "because every time I see you, I feel this intense tug in my heart, and then I'm reminded of everything I'm supposed to be. I feel like I have to choose."
Ted rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Andromeda, listen. I’m not here to force you into any decision. I care about you too much for that. Whether you decide to stay with your family or follow your own path, I’ll support you every step of the way. I just want you to know that I’m here, no matter what.”
She hesitated, her voice quiet and tentative. “It scares me, Ted. I’m so confused. I love you, and I love the idea of our life together, but the pressure from my family… it’s overwhelming.”
Ted smiled softly, his eyes sincere. “I understand, truly. Sometimes life’s a piece of proper shit, isn’t it? But I’m not going to try and sway you either way. I just want to be by your side while you figure things out. Whatever choice you make, I’ll be there for you, if it’s with your family or if it’s away from them.”
For a long moment, Andromeda gazed out at the stars. The silence was filled with unspoken hopes and quiet understanding. Finally, she offered him a small, uncertain smile. “Thank you, Ted. It means more than I can say to know you’re willing to stand by me, even if I’m not sure of who I want to be.”
Ted’s smile was warm and reassuring as he replied, "That's what I’m here for, taking things one step at a time, together."
Under the vast, starlit sky in that quiet tower, amidst the soft murmur of distant winds and the steady glow of ancient stone, Andromeda felt a fragile hope begin to bloom.
-
Hogwarts, Seventh Year
After the Quidditch match, the courtyard was a soft mix of laughter and low murmurs, with a modest celebration of treats and punch. Prefects roamed about, keeping an eye on the students as they mingled. Ted and Andromeda, on duty that evening, gradually drifted away from the main crowd toward a quieter corner beneath an old oak.
They strolled slowly along the cobblestones, the chilly autumn air carrying whispers of laughter from nearby. Ted, with a playful smile, broke the silence. “That game was something, wasn’t it?” he said, his tone easy and warm.
Andromeda managed a small smile, but her eyes seemed distant as they followed the drifting leaves. “It was… interesting. We should take a seat… from all the noise for a bit.”
They reached a secluded bench where a few lanterns cast gentle pools of light on the ground. For a while, they sat side by side, watching the remnants of the celebration fade into the night. Ted’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he spoke again, his voice softer and tinged with genuine concern. “You’ve been quiet again, Andromeda. Everything alright?”
She hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I’m not sure,” she admitted at last. “Lately, I feel… split. Sometimes, when I’m with you, I feel a weight lift off my chest, you know, like I can finally laugh and be myself. But then I think about what my family expects, the life they’ve planned for me… and I feel like I’m being pulled in two very different directions.”
Ted’s eyes met hers, warm but tinged with worry. “You mean, you’re torn between the life you want and the life they expect you to lead?”
She nodded slowly. “Exactly. The life my parents want for me holds so much uncertainty, what if my husband doesn’t allow for me to see my sisters? What if I’m not allowed to go into my Potions Mastery? He would have every right to choose for me. I can’t even imagine waking up one day, completely separated from my sisters and my dreams because I followed a path I didn’t really choose for myself.” Her voice broke slightly as she continued, “But when I’m with you, I feel like there’s a chance to write my own story, one where I’m not just living out someone else’s dream.”
Ted’s arms wrapped around Andromeda, pulling her into a warm embrace. “Andromeda, I care about you so much,” he said softly, his voice imbued with sincerity. “But are you sure about this? I mean, do you really think that choosing a life with me is what you want? I’d be over the moon, of course, but I worry, what if you end up resenting the decision someday? I can’t change what your family is, and it would be impossible for me to be what they want for you.”
Andromeda looked down at their intertwined hands, the gentle lamplight reflecting a mix of hope and fear in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” she whispered. “I remember sitting with my sisters on quiet evenings, laughing about the smallest things, Bella’s sharp words, and Narcissa and Cinthie being so..” she trails off reminiscing her childhood.
“ I can’t bear the thought of never sharing those moments with them again. Yet, every time I’m with you, I feel lighter, things feel easier. You make the future seem a little less daunting, a promise of a life where I’m not bound by old expectations.”
Ted exhaled slowly, his expression conflicted as he searched her face. “I want you to be happy, Andromeda—truly happy,” he said. “if that means choosing the life we dream about together, then I’ll support you every step of the way. But I need to know you’re not making this choice lightly, that you’re not only running from something but also running toward something real.” His voice softened, almost pleading. “I love you, and it scares me sometimes that I can’t fix these things. I can’t change the expectations that weigh on you. I can only promise to be here, to help carry that burden if you let me.”
For a long, fragile moment, Andromeda gazed out at the darkened courtyard, where faint echoes of the celebration mixed with the rustle of leaves. Finally, she spoke, her voice trembling with the intensity of her inner struggle. “Ted, I’ve never felt so conflicted. I’m terrified of losing my sisters. But I’m equally terrified of living a life where I’m forced into something I don’t want, where every day is a reminder that I didn’t choose my own path.I want to choose you, because our love feels... inevitable, like it was meant to be. I can’t imagine waking up one day and wondering what life would have been if I had followed my own heart, even if it means leaving behind what I’ve always known.”
Ted’s eyes softened with both relief and a quiet sadness. “Then, Andromeda, if that’s what you truly feel know that I’m here, no matter how difficult the journey might be. I’ll be here when the weight of the world feels too heavy, and I’ll stand by you, every step of the way.”
Under the gentle glow of the lanterns and the watchful light of the full moon, Andromeda felt the tumult of her emotions settle into a fragile resolve. Though the thought of leaving her sisters still tugged at her heart, the certainty of Ted’s unwavering love and understanding offered her a glimpse of a future where she could finally be true to herself.
-
Shortly after the graduation ceremony, the Hogwarts grounds were bathed in the soft glow of a fading summer afternoon. The graduates had the rest of the day to themselves and tomorrow the Hogwarts Express would be arriving. The celebration had quieted down, and laughter and chatter had given way to a peaceful calm. Andromeda’s parents had left the grounds and were probably already back at Noctis Veil.
And amidst this gentle atmosphere, Ted and Andromeda walked together along a secluded garden path, away from the remnants of the festivities.
They strolled side by side, Ted’s easy smile and quiet confidence made the world feel a little less overwhelming. As they approached a low stone wall lined with lanterns, Ted cleared his throat, “Hey, Andromeda,” Ted began casually, glancing at her with his familiar, gentle concern. “I’ve got a little something to share with you.”
Ted reached into his worn cloak and slowly produced a silver skeleton key.
“I bought a house in London.”
For a moment, Andromeda’s eyes widened in shock. She had half-expected news of him getting accepted into the Ministry position he applied for or some other academic achievement, but a house—this was entirely unexpected. “A house?” she murmured, uncertainty mingling with hope.
Ted continued, stepping closer so that his words could be heard over the quiet murmur of the evening. “It’s not extravagant—nothing like a palace—but it’s perfect. There’s a big yard out back, spacious for your gardening. I think it would be perfect for tending to potion ingredients, and I thought you’d adore having a space that’s all your own.” He paused, his eyes lighting up as he went on, “Right beneath the garden, there’s an clean new potions lab with plenty of space for you to experiment without any disturbances. And the living room… it has large windows that lets in a flood of light, and! I’ve bought matching armchairs so we could sit and read together. I even made sure there’s a balcony—so you can always have a quiet spot to sit and gaze at the stars.”
Andromeda’s heart pounded as she listened. The vision of a humble, shared home—one that embraced both her passions and their quiet love—began to take shape in her mind. For a long moment, silence hung between them as she considered the promise in his words.
Finally, Ted spoke again, his voice soft but earnest. “I know I won’t be able to offer you an extravagant lifestyle, Andromeda. But I promise you a home built on love, a place where every detail is meant for you. I want you to be part of my everyday life, to wake up in a place that we’ve made our own. I want you to have a space where you can nurture your garden, experiment in that lab, and always have a quiet balcony to watch the stars.”
Her eyes shimmered with a mix of surprise and hesitation. For a moment, she felt a twinge of fear, wondering if she would be leaving her sisters so soon. But then Ted’s gaze softened further, and he took her hand in his.
“I don’t want to force you into any decision,” he said gently, his voice quiet with sincerity. “I just want you to know that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No matter what you choose, you’ll always have a place in my heart.”
Andromeda’s thoughts swirled. Ted had thought of everything, he had planned everything for her, but he wasn’t trying to give her this to make her choose him. He was giving her the option, for if she wished to spend her life with him, she would have a place to do so.
After a long, breathless silence, she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. “Ted… I’ve thought about this so much. I’m terrified of a future where I’m forced into a life I didn’t choose. When I’m with you, everything feels possible. I can’t imagine waking up one day filled with regret, knowing I never followed my own heart.”
Ted’s eyes glistened with hope and a touch of vulnerability. With a slow, deliberate motion, he knelt on the soft grass, still holding her hand. “Andromeda,” he said, his voice steady and full of quiet determination, “Will you marry me? I promise that, I want to give you a life that’s truly ours. I want to spend every day by your side, supporting you and loving you no matter what challenges come our way.”
For a long, suspended moment, Andromeda stared into his earnest eyes. The gentle light of the lanterns and the warmth of the evening wrapped around them as she allowed the truth of her heart to rise up. She could feel her heart thumping in her ears, and she had never wanted something more in her life. Every ounce and particle in her body wanted to spend the rest of her life with Ted. With a trembling smile and tears glistening in the soft glow, she whispered, “Yes, Ted. Yes, I choose you.”
Under the soft glow of the lanterns, Andromeda and Ted sat quietly on a stone bench in the courtyard. The night was calm and the distant laughter of graduates had faded into a gentle murmur.
Andromeda’s eyes still shimmered with unshed tears as she spoke softly.
“I choose you, Ted. But…I need this summer to get my things in order with my family. I need to say goodbye in my own way, so I can truly follow my own path.”
Ted squeezed her hand gently and replied,
“I understand, love. I don’t want to rush you into anything. I know the bond you share with your sisters means everything, and I’d never ask you to leave that behind lightly.”
Ted hugs her again, trying his best to give her his strength.