Holy hell, I thought I would never finish this… Sorry Sam, I'm more than a little late, but this didn't want to come out the way I wanted it to…
Anyway, a while back I wrote a Jily!AU with the same basic idea, and I loved it so much it gave me a lot of ideas for other pairings. You don't need to have read the other story to understand this one, just know that it stands in the same verse.
Also, in this Ted is a Muggle. For reasons (mostly because I was curious as to how I could make this work with a mixed magical/Muggle couple). You're warned.
This was written for Sam, who is amazing, and for the Hunger Games Competition.
Please leave a review on your way out.
Word count: 3276
there's a halo in your mouth (step a little closer)
.o.
When Andromeda tells her mother about the metal heart that hangs around her neck and beats in unison with the one of flesh and blood inside her chest, her mother throws the most amazing party.
To celebrate their daughter 'being a true Black witch', whatever that means.
Of course, she was so young that she barely remembers it, just flashes of pretty dresses and sparkling jewelry, of faces smiling down at her and mutters of assent floating in the air.
And a voice. A voice telling her this fantastic story about blessings from the gods and souls worn for all to see.
She gets the full story growing up and she even tells it to her sisters a few times – Narcissa to help her sleep at night after nightmares, Bellatrix while they were playing in the gardens, back when they were still young enough to be allowed free reign in the gardens - but somehow, the memory that comes to her mind every time she touches her neck is the one she barely remembers, of words whispered like a secret by some relative she hasn't seen since then.
(it goes like this:
'Once upon a time, a woman who was about to die prayed for the life of her unborn child. Her soul was so pure her plea reached the heavens and the ears of the gods. They couldn't save the woman, for she was too ill, but they were able to save the child by binding her life to another like her.
That was how the first bonded pair was made – only even the gods, with all their wisdom couldn't comprehend what they had just created. It was a new race, better and stronger than all others on this Earth, with powers never seen before, and they called themselves wizards.
And so they wouldn't spend their lives searching, they were gifted with the ability to see their own souls so they could find the one who completed them.')
.i.
What so clearly baffles Andromeda was how despite all their talks of being somehow chosen by the gods, no one in her family, or in fact no one she knows could even pretend to have found their match through the necklaces everyone knew hang from the necks.
That they are meant to help them find their match is the only thing every story she's read agree on, and she's read a lot of stories since she's first been taught how to read. She just doesn't understand why no one she knows is as happy as the couples from the tales of old were.
And then she turns ten and her father summons her to the living-room to introduce her to Rabastan Lestrange, who is to be her husband, and she understands.
Her heart doesn't skip a beat when she meets him, and around her neck the metal seems to only grow colder and heavier. If this is how it feels for her parents, or her cousins, or anyone else in their family, really, then she understands how they find it so hard to spend more than a few moments together. Just the perspective of an afternoon with him makes it hard to breathe.
That night, after everyone goes to bed and she knows even the House Elves are asleep, she tiptoes to her window. She opens it and climbs halfway through, her legs dangling in the darkness as she lets the wind caress her skin.
She looks to the sky and the stars she's named after, and for the first time she thinks of running far, far away.
And then she steps back inside, closes the window and slips back into her soft and warm bed, fantasies of freedom almost forgotten but for dreams where she breaks free of her chains and runs with the wind.
.ii.
Hogwarts is somehow both everything she hoped for and everything she feared.
She is Sorted in Slytherin, and she thinks she could fit there, if only she didn't have to deal with all those people only after her money and her father's influence. It may be the only time she's glad she can say she's betrothed, because that at least keeps some of most annoying 'suitors' away. As if she'd ever consider spending a single second more than strictly necessary with them if she had the choice.
But she feels right at home in the green and sliver themed Common Room, and every night she could swear her soul grows lighter with every step she takes toward the Great Hall. It's not a feeling she's used to, and she'd give anything to hold onto it.
She's still alone though, and it seems like even if every year brings more members of her family to Hogwarts it also separates them. Bellatrix is just a year above but she refuses to talk to her little sister on her best days, and well, her worse days really don't bear thinking about, Sirius gets Sorted in Gryffindor and becomes the family pariah, and when they get there, Narcissa and Regulus seem perfectly happy minding their own businesses and no one else's.
She can't help but to remember sunny days spent hiding from grouchy old adults with Sirius every time he sneers at her (or her uniform, she can never be sure), or that one time she tried to teach Regulus and Narcissa how to draw, with more success on Regulus' part than on Narcissa's, who had quickly declared that this 'plebeian activity was beneath her' when she sees them studying in the dorms, or even the way Bellatrix used to love listening to her stories when they were younger.
When she feels cynical, she blames the too-pretty heart hanging around her neck, because it made her – made them – special and without it they'd never have had any reason to grow apart this way.
When she's realistic, she thinks it probably wouldn't have made any difference.
.iii.
One summer, when staying inside the house listening to her parents singing her future husband's praise became too stifling, she sneaks out and wanders in Muggle London for an entire night.
It is ever so exciting – if anyone from her family ever finds out where she has gone, or even that she has gone at, she could be in a lot of trouble. But she had needed air, and the last thing you can do in a Black home is breathe freely.
With each step away from her home she feels just that little bit lighter, and she doesn't even notice that her pace had quickened until she's running through mostly empty streets toward a place she hasn't found yet, her heart thumping against her chest a music she's the only one to hear.
Andromeda feels like running forever and never turning back would be the greatest gift she could get, but she also knows just how dangerous it would be to try to escape her own family: they are ruthless, but more than that they are so very proud of their status as a perfect Pureblood House, and there is a reason why no one hears of those who tried to jeopardize that status.
Still, she thinks as the sun comes up slowly, drowning the last moments of this eye-opening night in a soft golden light, it would be nice to have somewhere to run to.
It's then, when she re-enters inside the house and feels the jeweled heart around her neck grow heavier, that she realizes that somewhere along the past few years, her home has become a prison she only wishes she could escape.
.iv.
When Andromeda's sixteen, Rabastan kisses her at her parents' Yule dinner. His grip is a little too tight, his hands a little too sweaty and his lips press against hers a little too strongly – it's awful, but she smiles and kisses him back because their parents are watching, and she has to put on a good show.
Later, she'll hex him so hard he'll wish he'd never touched her, but for the rest of the night she pretends she feels right at home sitting with a man she can't stand and sisters she no longer even recognize.
Her soul shines more dully after that evening, and that missing spark only returns two days later when she ventures for the second time in the Muggle world alone, this time in broad daylight.
She wears a heavy coat with a fluffy Slytherin scarf, and she blends perfectly in the crowded park two blocks away from the house. It's exhilarating to be there, and once again she wishes she never had to leave.
The sky is clear and though the air bitingly cold and she might as well be sitting on ice instead of that frozen wooden bench, this place somehow still manage to emit a certain kind of warmth she has only witnessed in Hogwarts before.
To her right children are playing in the snow under their parents' watchful eyes, and further to her left a group of adolescents barely older than she is are laughing at some kind of joke one of them made. It all looks so normal, so simple, that even she can't quite believe that she has never experienced this for herself.
It sounds so sad now that she thinks about it, but there is nothing she can do – were she to act any less dispassionate than she did, most of her House would see it as a sign of weakness and it wouldn't take long for the matter to get back to her parents who would be take it as a betrayal of their sacred Black ways.
It's in time like these that she envies her cousin Sirius. He, at least, is free of their family's expectations, since every adult has agreed that there isn't a greater shame than to be Sorted in Gryffindor.
She sneaks back a glance toward the still laughing group of youths standing by a frozen water fountain. They look far happier than any of her 'friends' ever has at Hogwarts, and she feels a pang of envy for their carefreeness.
They're Muggles though, whispers the part of her mind that she associates with her pureblood upbringing. They don't have magic – they weren't chosen, not like we were.
Andromeda looks down at the jeweled pendant supposed to represent everything she is. Lately, it has begun to dull, and what was once polished metal seems now tarnished. What is the point of being blessed if you can't be free to choose what to do with that blessing? Besides, nothing she has seen of Muggles thus far confirms what most people in her family claim to be true, and the few Muggleborns she has met at Hogwarts have been nothing but kind and enthusiastic about magic – a far cry from her aunt's descriptions of filth and narrow-mindedness.
Maybe her family is wrong about the Muggles. After all, she's pretty sure none of them have ever even talked to one. Perhaps they just don't know what Muggles are really like and they only retell stories they've heard – or perhaps someone just met the wrong person. That happens. Some wizards she knows would be the worst kind of person to send if you wanted to introduce someone to the magical world, so why couldn't this situation work both ways?
She moves to get up – and who knows, maybe find the courage to go introduce herself to that group over there? – but she barely gets to make a single step before she crashes into some guy.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, are you hurt?"
The guy is taller than her, but not by much. Andromeda can't see much of him, wrapped as he is in some kind of coat; scarf and cap letting only a few tuffs of blond hair free framing brown eyes and bushy eyebrows. He looks so apologetic she can't even bring herself to be annoyed at him – in fact, something about him makes her want to smile.
"I'm fine, thank you. Are you alright?"
"Ah-yes, yes I am. I'm good. Great even." He shifts on his feet, looking highly uncomfortable. Silence settles between them.
Andromeda is the first one to move. She has to get back home at some point after all, and it wouldn't do for anyone to realize she had left.
"I'm sorry, but would you mind letting me go? I should really get going…" She trails off, unsure of what to add.
Immediately, he takes a step back. "Sure. I should, hum, just – there you go," he says as he hands her back her scarf. She hadn't even noticed it had fallen.
"Well, thanks," she answers as she takes it. "It was nice meeting you, I guess."
He nods, smiles and lets her leave. She's halfway to the exit of the garden when she hears him call after her. She stops and turns around, and here he comes, looking as ridiculous as possible, leaving behind small strips of white vapor with each breath he takes in the crisp air.
"Wait! Wait, please don't leave! I haven't even asked you your name!"
Andromeda waits until he catches up to her, his breathing slightly ragged before she quips with a smile, "You still haven't. But I'm Andromeda."
He blinks, looking almost shocked for a second. "Like the galaxy? That's pretty neat. I'm Ted. Ted Tonks. And I'm really sorry if this seem too forward or anything, but I saw you sitting there alone, and I thought you might want some company – only then you tried to leave, and I walked right into you which probably really messed things up, sorry about that – so we decided to invite you to come over. That is, me and the guys over there," he rambles, gesturing at the mixed group she had watched earlier.
"We're having a snowball fight and wondered if you might want to join, but I guess if you have to go then you have to go…" He finishes with an almost disappointed sigh. "Still, have a happy holiday!"
"Actually, you know what? I have nothing better to do. I would love to participate in this snowball fight of yours."
"Really?"
"Really." Some part of her mind alerts her that this is a bad idea, but she ignores it easily. This is probably the last Yule holiday she has before she's supposed to marry Lestrange, so she might as well enjoy it while it last.
"Awesome! Come with me, I'll introduce you to everyone. You're going to love them..."
They walk back toward the group who has already clearly separated into two teams, each one busy making snowballs. With each step she takes, she feels her soul grow lighter, as if she has finally taken a step in the right direction.
Ted Tonks, uh…
.v.
Ted is amazing.
He's funny and smart, nice to her and he shows her a life she never really knew she wanted. His friends are pretty great too, and if anyone finds anything weird with the way she looks at the strange vehicles they call 'cars', well they don't mention it.
Around him, she feels part of something in a way she hasn't since she was first Sorted, and even that is nothing compared to the way she feels when she sneaks out every day to meet with them.
The heart around her neck could as well have grown wings it feels so light, and as the end of the holidays draws near – far too quickly – she realizes that if she could capture moments and etch them in stone, she would choose those days.
Ted's not a wizard. He's not able to accomplish wonders with a wave of a wand, he will never be able to see the wondrous sight that is Hogwarts in the winter despite loving that season the most, and she will never be able to tell him every little thing the authors of the fantasy books he's reading have gotten wrong about werewolves and vampires.
He doesn't know the privilege and the burden it is to see your own soul in your every waking moment – but she thinks he might be able to understand it. One day.
She hopes.
(Andromeda promises to write him during the rest of the school year - which leads to a funny discussion about the owls they'll have to use for that – and he swears he'll answer.
On the morning the Hogwarts Express leaves, he sneaks into King's Cross, and taking advantage of the crowded platforms, steals her second kiss right under the nose of her Muggle-hating family to 'give her something to remember him by'.
It feels heavenly and tastes like victory.)
.vi.
They manage to date for two entire years before anyone finds out.
Here's what happens: they get caught up in a Death Eaters attack, which is just about the worst way to introduce Ted to the magical world - her world - she has ever envisioned.
They both narrowly escape with their lives when the woman in charge of the group reveals to be Bellatrix – and isn't that a surprise? Her own sister, killing people like it means nothing at all. How did this happen? How did she miss it?
They don't even escape because Bellatrix lets them leave, no. They escape because the witch is so surprised to see her little sister mingling with Muggles that her concentration slips for a moment, allowing Andromeda to grab Ted and Apparate as far away from the fight as she can.
She realizes her entire world has just crumbled before the adrenaline has even left her system.
.vii.
Ted doesn't leave her but it takes time for him to trust her as much as he used to again, and the next day she finds she can no longer access the Black's vault.
She doesn't see Bellatrix again, but one day Narcissa shows at her doorstep and gives her everything she had left behind in her room, from childhood photos to the hairbrush her grandmother gifted her when she turned seven, and then she tells Andromeda that she's marrying Lucius Malfoy and that this is the last time they see each other.
A year later Ted asks him to marry her in the park where they first met, and she says yes. Of her family, only Sirius comes – he brings his friends with him, and they introduce Ted to an aspect of magic that interest him much more than the Potions she's so skilled at and that he finds disgusting: pranks.
It seems like the start of an unholy alliance – magical pranksters helping a Muggle prank his unsuspecting friends – but it works.
In the church, Sirius walks her down the aisle, and though it does feel weird to be escorted that way by her much younger cousin, there is no one else she would rather have there to do the job.
The day is perfect, and her soul shines with some kind of inner light she has never seen before for the entire day (and night).
Early the next morning, as they lay in bed together, both still slightly out of breath, she takes his hand in hers and closes it around the necklace she has worn since her birth.
"This is my soul," she says. "I'm sorry you can't ever see it, but I know you will take a good care of it anyway."
"Don't worry, I don't need to see it to know it's beautiful."
She smiles and closes her eyes. Life is good, and she wouldn't trade hers for anything in the world.