for Writing2StayHalfSane
Hers First
Andromeda sips her coffee as she gazes at the recently married-and-engaged section of the Daily Prophet. There is a large photo of her baby sister (former sister, really) staring adoringly at Lucius Malfoy, along with an article gushing about their oh-so-beautiful love story. Andromeda puts down the paper without reading it. She thinks vaguely that witches across Britain will be cooing and sighing at the pretty romance splayed across the page, but what they won't know is the most important part: he was hers first.
It has been over a year, and Andromeda is happily married to Ted and from the looks of it, Lucius is now enjoying a wonderful honeymoon with Narcissa. She shouldn't care anymore, but the thought is still a sharp pang in her chest.
She had been engaged to Lucius before Narcissa even noticed him. This could have been her, Andromeda thinks wryly, as she stares at the paper. But she chose to leave, she chose to run away and marry Ted, she chose to end the romance with Lucius. And it had been a romance, it had been gifts of roses and sweet, lingering kisses; eager promises and whispered secrets. She had thought she loved Lucius, but then Ted came into her life and whisked her away, promising freedom and escape, and she left Lucius and chose Ted.
Lucius would have waited for her, would have fought for her. But in the proper pureblood society, that simply was not done. Their engagement was quietly broken, and the next day, Lucius was betrothed to Narcissa. He hadn't had a choice in the matter; the decision was made for him, and Andromeda, still high off of her escape from pureblood society, looked down on him for that.
At the time, she had thought she was the only one that was hurting. Yes, she had Ted, and she had freedom, but the memories of Lucius' piercing gray eyes that seemed to stare straight into her soul and his elegant whisper in her ear, making promises he could never keep, burned. They kept her up at night; they made her feel as if her heart had been carved out of her chest. She loved him, and she chose to leave him, and knowing that she had brought this on herself hurt, it hurt so bad.
But then there's Lucius, who had been forced to move on from Andromeda, and to marry Narcissa. He had no choice; he had to marry a cold imitation of his first love.
And looking at the picture in the Prophet, Andromeda isn't sure which one hurt more.