This one-shot was written for Round 10 (Soapies) of the 2018 Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Season 6. I'm writing as a Chaser (3rd Position) for the Wimbourne Wasps.
Position Prompt: Write about a fight within the family (such as over marriage, finance, property, etc.)
Optional Chaser Prompt #1: (pairing) Andromeda Black/Ted Tonks
Optional Chaser Prompt #2: (picture) A man kissing a woman's hand
Optional Chaser Prompt #3: (object) Television
I'm also a Slytherin in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments). This was written for Assignment #4, Women's History: Influential Queer Women, Task Ten - Write about a relationship that might be considered scandalous.
The list of Hogwarts prompts/challenges used are listed at the end of the story.
Warning: Mention of nonconsensual abortion, but it does not actually occur. Also, this arguably involves teen pregnancy because Andromeda is 19, but 19 is still an adult, if a young adult, so it feels like a grey area.
tomorrow starts tonight
"Have you taken complete leave of your senses?"
Her little sister's tone was sharp, but Andromeda had known it would be. Bucking centuries of tradition was enough to ruffle feathers, and Cissy did always prefer for her feathers to be smooth. The arguments of the past few months must have floated in one ear and out the other, for all the impact they had made.
"You cannot be that surprised," Andromeda said, running a hand over the swell of her stomach. The loose flow of her dress robes formed to reveal the bump, which grew more and more evident with the passing days.
Pinching her expression, Narcissa refused to look down. "It's just that-"
"Cannot be surprised about what?" Their mother rounded the bannister with their father close behind. Grimacing, her eyes flicked down to Andromeda's stomach, but she held back a comment, which was more restraint than usual, as of late. "You are both ready for the gala, I trust?"
"Yes, Mother," Narcissa responded in a much sweeter voice—a far better match for the delicate image she projected. Tonight, tiny white blossoms were braided into the golden plaits of her hair like a frosted crown. She always took on the look of a whimsical snow princess as the winter solstice approached, but when Narcissa's gaze sharpened to grey daggers, there was nothing whimsical about it.
"I was saying that I intend to stay with Ted," Andromeda announced. For a startled second, no one said anything. Perhaps they were choking on their own breath, but to their credit, there was no immediate change in their expressions. "I understand it's not what you want-"
"Come along, girls," their father said imperiously, his tone far more clipped than usual. Stepping back from the bannister, he dropped his hand from the final pillar to link an arm with their mother as they moved towards the front door. Beside him, Druella Rosier Black was a portrait of stony disapproval, looking so much like Cissy probably would in a couple of decades. It made Andromeda's chest twist.
"That's it, then?" Andromeda had combed the hesitation out of her tone, but her heart pattered like some frantic rabbit.
"You identified our displeasure, which I take to mean you have come to reason on your own." Their father paused in his step, though he did not turn around to look at her. "Come. We do not want to be late."
"I'm staying with Ted," Andromeda repeated, and this time, she saw Narcissa stiffening out of the corner of her eye.
"You will not dignify that Mudblood with a name in this house." There was a chill in his voice now, the tone dark, though she still could not see his face. "We have already discussed a plan for dealing with the Muggle parasite inside of you, but-"
A flash of anger boiled hot in her stomach. "That word is so coarse. For that matter, Ted isn't a Muggle, and this is a baby, not a parasite."
"Do not test my patience, Andromeda."
"If you will just listen-"
"We have been exceedingly understanding," he said as he twisted a hardened glare back to her. Andromeda would beg to differ—they had been far from conceding in this situation—but she bit her tongue as he spoke again. "More understanding than we ought to have been with a daughter who degraded herself with a Mudblood. If you had been born to my sister, you would have been nothing more than a scorch mark on the tapestry months ago, so do not insult our good will by bringing this up again. You ought to count yourself lucky that Demetrius Travers is willing to consider you after an embarrassment like this-"
"Travers is a cretin." She scowled, hands clenching into fists as she leveled her tone. "I already told you that I refuse to marry him, so it really doesn't matter what he's 'willing' to accept."
"When you demonstrate an inability to make reasonable decisions, those decisions will be made for you." The condescension in his tone made Andromeda's blood simmer, and her frame went rigid. "You made a mistake, as some foolish girls do, but we would be irresponsible parents if we allowed it to continue. Travers is a good name."
"You speak as though I ought to be desperate," Andromeda remarked with a deadpan press of her lips.
"Is there another Pureblood man you have your eye on?" their mother interjected, though Andromeda thought it sounded more like a challenge than a point of support.
"I've expressed my intention."
"Therein lies your problem." His tone was clipped, drawing the conversation back. Their mother had slipped her arm from his to instead take Narcissa's hand.
"Come along." Gently, their mother tugged Narcissa to the front door, trying to make a wall with her body, but Narcissa had managed to maneuver a glance. Andromeda could not tell if her little sister was more upset or angry or some other tangled up emotion, but as much as it hurt to see their parents' disapproval mirrored in her eyes, Andromeda knew she didn't understand. Cissy was only seventeen, not even out of school yet, and hopelessly enamoured with that idiot Lucius Malfoy. He was—upon confirming a connection to the Pureblood branch of Malfoys—just the sort of pompous fool their parents were willing to accept.
When the door shut heavily behind them, father and daughter locked eyes again. What he wanted was a chameleon, a daughter who could take on the colour of her world, and for some time now, Andromeda had tried—genuinely tried—to do just that. She saw no compromise in his icy stare, and as much as she hated to think it, the pattern weaving through all of their lives suggested that compromise was unattainable.
"I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you wanted," she began, hating the thick quality in her tone, "but I just can't do it. I can't disappear for a few months, have a baby, and give it away. I can't just marry Travers because 'he'll have me.'"
"You were the one who refused the potion."
Bile roiled in her stomach. Andromeda had been half-afraid her mother would slip an abortive potion into her drink when she wasn't looking, regardless of what Andromeda wanted, but the baby continued to thrive, so perhaps it had been an unfair thought.
"That's not what I meant," she said with a bite in her voice.
"Mind your tone, Andromeda."
"This is your grandchild you're talking about!" she said, her voice shaking, however fiercely she tried to calm it again.
"That thing is not my grandchild," he corrected sharply. "This Mudblood has manipulated you into thinking you have some obligation to him. It's easy to believe that when you are yet so young, but I assure you, Andromeda, that you will someday be grateful that we put a stop to it. Purge these foolish ideas from your mind. I will not tell you again."
Andromeda held his gaze with eyes forged from steel and a face cut from stone. "I won't ask again."
The way he nodded made her insides turn, sending a surge of hurt rushing through her body like a crashing wave. Her father would never budge. None of them would. They would sooner she snuff out her baby's life—or at the very least, put that life in someone else's hands—than welcome an 'impure' child into the family. She had known as much from the start, had known it was utterly naive to even dream that they would bend the stuffy traditions or could ever accept Ted. She had just wanted it so badly…
"Let us be on our way," her father said crisply, starting towards the door.
From their disillusioned front steps, Cygnus Black would apparate to the gala, where he would then pull her mother aside to inform her of the continued dramatics. They would sip wine and socialise as if it was any other winter's night, making small talk with the same people they always made small talk with. Cissy would undoubtedly seek out Lucius and ask after his first autumn away from Hogwarts while Bella, in turn, made a point to look exceptionally bored.
The same pattern, the same routine, ruled them all. The same people filled their lives. The same expectations drove their lives.
Behind her father, Andromeda stepped outside, but when she vanished with a decisive crack, it was not a winter gala that met her; rather, it was a sizable family home surrounded with a swath of trees, tucked away in the muggle city of Worcester. Ted's house—his home—so much warmer than her own.
As a bitter breeze raked over her, Andromeda realised then that she had left her shawl on the table by the stairs. Shoving her hands into the belled sleeves of her dress robes, she stepped out of the cover of the trees. Off to the right, ivy swept across red brick to dangle over the window where she could see their Christmas tree, decked in full festivity. Upon reaching the door, she took out her balled fist just long enough to rap four crisp knocks against the door. Rocking on her feet, she willed away the chill.
The door soon opened to reveal Mr. Tonks, dressed in a garish Christmas jumper covered in reindeer. The largest among them had a flashing red nose, though it looked to be charmwork by Ted rather than any doing of the jumper itself. More comfortingly, Mr. Tonks wore a warm smile as he looked her over and opened the door wider.
"What a surprise. Was Ted supposed to meet you somewhere?" he asked, undoubtedly confused by the deep blue sweep of a gown, but she could not blame him for it.
Before Andromeda could respond, she saw a head of curly blonde hair poke out from the living room. "Dromeda!" Ted began as he jogged a few steps over. "I thought you had that party tonight."
"I decided not to go," she said, lifting her chin and pointedly ignoring the horrible lurch in her stomach. Ted's eyes flashed with the sort of knowing look that suggested any speculations spinning in his mind were probably accurate. "May I come in?"
"Of course! The more the merrier," Mr. Tonks said, stepping aside for her to enter.
"Is that Ted's girlfriend?" came a voice from somewhere on the other side of the stairs. If Andromeda had to guess, she would say that his mother was cooking stew in the kitchen; it was the sort of smell that eclipsed whatever she would have eaten that night. "Andromeda?"
"Yes, she had a change of plans," Ted called back, clasping their hands tightly.
"Make yourself at home," Mr. Tonks said cheerfully, eyeing the two of them before disappearing around the corner. Perhaps it was to assist in the kitchen, or perhaps it was to gossip. Truthfully, she didn't know them well enough to say for sure; maybe it was just a projection based on the people she had nearly spent the evening with. Ted wasn't one for gossip, so his parents probably weren't, either.
Meeting her eyes, Ted offered a playful smile and lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles that made her stomach flutter. "Come with me, m'lady," he said with a posh accent that was so put on that she had to snort.
Ted's smile grew into a grin as he led her into the living room, decked to the brim with holiday decor. The 'telly' was turned on, playing what appeared to be some sort of Christmas-themed music program. She had only been to the Tonks residence once before: a brief visit to meet his parents a few months prior, back in the summer. They had called it that, the 'telly,' but it had not been showing any pictures at the time. She hadn't wanted to ask, at the time, but she was struck with a sudden curiosity—one that Ted read perfectly.
"They've left us to it this time," he said, sitting on the floor next to the strange box and tugging her down to settle between his legs. He was wearing a Christmas jumper, too, coloured red with white snowflakes, but however cold a real snowflake might be, his chest was warm as she rested her head against it.
"It's a telly, right?" she asked, tapping a finger against what felt like glass. Beneath her finger, there was a young lady with a red 'Santa' hat.
"A television, yes. But it usually gets called a telly," Ted said as he rested a casual hand on the swell of her stomach. When she dropped her own hand from the box to rest on his, Andromeda thought it might startle from its spot. Only after pressing Ted's palm more firmly against her stomach did she feel him relax around her. The stabbing in her chest persisted as she wondered if he had told his parents about the baby. Ted had promised his silence until she said otherwise, though he hadn't liked the idea of secrecy. Months had passed since then. Loose and flowing as her dress robes were tonight, she had to wonder if speculation had kicked in.
"Television," she echoed quietly, eyes flicking over all of the metallic knobs. Breaking her stare, Andromeda pressed back into his chest with a more steely expression. "I'm not going back."
Ted followed the shift in subject admirably, lifting her hand and clasping it so that they were palm to palm. "I suspected the conversation might not have gone well."
"They still want me to give up our baby and marry the cretin." Scorn had crept back into her tone, but Ted just squeezed her hand and pressed another kiss to her knuckles. It had upset her a little, at first, how relaxed he remained, no matter what madcap story she told about her family, but at the moment, the resulting comfort was without parallel.
"I take it the answer is still no."
"Obviously."
"Are you okay?"
For a moment, Andromeda wasn't certain. Her father would have realised she wasn't coming to the gala, by now, though it was unlikely that he or anyone else in the family would draw attention to it. Bella… Her elder sister was an explosion waiting to happen, and whatever restraint she had been holding herself to was unlikely to last. Cissy would be upset, no doubt, but there was no way to avoid that now. The truth of it was that Andromeda's family supported the harmful ideologies that would put Ted at immediate risk, and not even her own supposedly 'noble' blood could protect her baby from some of the maniacs she had regularly shared hors d'oeuvres with.
"I'm free," Andromeda responded, pressing his hand to her stomach again. "No going back now."
"Do you want to stay here? I know it's not very romantic, living with my parents…" His smile was a little sheepish, but it made her heart skip, all the same.
"If they don't mind the intrusion. It is better than living with my parents," she said dryly, once again ignoring the pang in her chest. "Do yours know…?"
"Not yet." Ted paused. "Probably. I didn't say anything, but you might be showing a bit, even in that dress."
"Are you saying I have a big stomach?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, though he only smiled wider.
"It's the most beautiful stomach I've ever seen," he said, threading their fingers together, then poking a spot near her belly button. "With a beautiful baby inside of it."
"Hopefully not in my actual stomach."
"Don't know... with the way you talk about your family…"
She snorted. "We can tell them tomorrow, if that's okay. I don't think I want to talk about it quite yet."
"To tomorrow," Ted confirmed with a smile, bringing their woven hands up, as if in salute.
"And all of the tomorrow to come."
Dressed in a set of overlarge pyjamas—Ted's, of course, though his mother had offered a gown—Andromeda settled at the writing desk. Several times, she had started her familial suicide note, but nothing felt right. To address the issues at hand felt so melodramatic, so overwrought, and with how extensively they had fought for their perspectives, to rehash it now would only be redundant.
On the desk was something like a self-inking quill (a pen, Ted had called it); with such a weapon in hand, she began to write:
'Mother, Father, Cissy,
You must have noticed I took my leave tonight.
My baby and the state of my marriage eligibility are no longer
something you need worry yourselves about.
I won't be coming back, so it's probably best if you send my things.
How terrible it would be if my taint were to infect the family home.
I left my shawl on the table by the staircase.
I wish you well. I wish more that it did not have to be like this.
Your wayward daughter and sister,
Andromeda'
Closing the pen cap and putting it in the cup at the corner—not amongst the clutter where she'd found it—Andromeda felt strangely content. She read the letter one last time before folding it up neatly. A morning delivery was probably best.
She could hear Ted snoring softly behind her, and the sound brought a soft smile to her face. Though his parents had probably intended for her to sleep in the guest room across the hall from Ted's, the temptation to curl up in his arms was not one she had the willpower to resist tonight.
"All we have is each other" she whispered, snuggling up against his chest and pulling his arm around her, though it didn't seem to disturb the soft sounds he was making in his sleep. With determination, she added, "Here's to all the tomorrows to come."
Additional Author's Notes
Applicable Hogwarts Prompts:
Assignment #4, Women's History: Influential Queer Women, Task Ten - Write about a relationship that might be considered scandalous.
Insane House Challenge - 149. Andromeda/Ted
365 Day Challenge - 87. "All we have is each other."
Writing Club, Character Appreciation, Queenie - 18. (skill) Cooking
Writing Club, Disney Challenge, Characters, Baloo - 2. Write about someone who always seems relaxed, no matter the situation
Writing Club, Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair - 20. Write about being treated in a subhuman manner
Writing Club, Showtime, Phantom of the Opera, The Point of No Return - 11. (dialogue) "No going back now."
Writing Club, Amber's Attic - 12. "Let's fall in love as if the world is on fire, and there is nothing left but ash and us."
Writing Club, Lyric Ally, "First" - 21. You're going silent, the silent treatment
Writing Club, Em's Emporium, Ug the Unreliable - 7. (word) Chameleon
Writing Club, Angel's Arcade, E-123 Omega - 9. (color) Metallic, (word) Dark, (action) Walking
Writing Club, Lo's Lowdown, Character Based Prompts, Mai - 9. (word) Deadpan
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Birthstones, Onyx - (dialogue) "I'm sorry that I'm not the daughter you wanted."
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Fire Element, Fire Prompts - (word) Scorch
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Shay's Musical Challenge, Anything Goes - Write about someone risking their own neck for love
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Gryffindor Themed Prompts - (trait) Feisty
Summer Seasonal Challenges, Summer Astronomy Prompts - (word) Solstice
Word Count - 2,998