Disclaimer: I am rightfully entitled to absolutely no part of the Harry Potter series.
Summary: "To quell my fears, I have to go. I need to know that this country is far, far removed from the perpetual horror of my former life."
Warning(s): This story contains interludes of coarse language and suggestive themes.
Author's Note: This is dedicated to the Ethiopia's nationals who volunteered with me at orphanages in the Horn of Africa and want Westerners to know that the images of Africa shown on television aren't representative of the continent as a whole. And yes, this does contain some aspects of the Greek tale, though certainly not all. And finally, for all who have become victims of violence in Addis Ababa.
~Ethiopia~
I.
For seventeen years, I'd been led to believe that I, like my elder sister, was named after a constellation.
I had no reason to question the validity of my parents' words, and so, posed no questions on the matter.
Until he entered my life, my interest had never truly been piqued.
N.E.W.T. courses were notorious for driving some Hogwarts students to the brink of madness. However, such was uncouth for a pureblood lady.
And so, I abided by every Ravenclaw's guidelines of frequenting the library more than my own dormitory.
In the process, though, I'd failed to escape the eagle's watchful gaze and could not slither from sight as he swooped down upon me.
Ted Tonks was a conceited arse.
His blonde hair was limp, ordinary—a trait I couldn't help but detest. It held no tangible sign of life; it practically screamed, "someone groom me, please!"
His blue eyes were plain, void of distinctiveness—common.
In retrospect, it was this innocence, these qualities, which implored I tolerate the repulsive creature.
Well, those and the audacity that, given the political climate, a mudblood was bold enough to sit across from a person of my lineage and casually strike up a conversation—seemingly indifferent to the foggy disappearances of the time.
I cursed myself in that moment. My mind demanded that I leave that table and the idiot immediately, but my legs betrayed me.
And so I indulged him, my younger sister's trademark scowl darkening my features as I stared at the emblem upon his robes.
Ted relayed a story which his mother, a literature scholar, told him of another Andromeda—one whose parents ruled over Ethiopia—one who was chained to a rock.
Always a lady, I sought not to further swell his ego with the knowledge that I was intrigued. Hence, I averted my eyes to the parchment and continued scribbling Potions notes.
It was late and we were the only two students in the library. Subsequently, we were the only two subjected to Irma Pince's eyeballing.
"Did you like that, Andromeda?" My hand froze, the quill leaving an unsightly inkblot on the thin paper, much to my dislike. His tone irked the hell out of me. It was like a husband, on his honeymoon, begging his exhausted wife for compliments on his performance.
I wasn't daft. I knew what he was implying, and the suggestive raising of his eyebrows further incensed me.
My eyes snapped up to meet his, and seeing his poorly concealed smirk, I fought to suppress the urge to snap his neck in two. All proper decorum, all ladylike standards of behavior, all Blackness flew out of the window.
"Fuck you." I hissed pointedly as I swept from the table, but obviously not discreetly enough to escape the ears of the overbearing buzzard.
"What foul language!" Irma Pince shrieked, carrying far more books than her thin arms could possibly support for much longer. "I expected more from you, even if your sisters—"
"If only you should be so lucky!" I turned, mouth agape, gaping at the defiant Ravenclaw. He looked scandalized, his expression one of outrage.
I tilted my head, smiling at the blonde simply to provoke further anger before I turned, gracefully, and left the library.
My brain ached for further explanation as I entered the common room. Narcissa rushed to greet me upon seeing my profile, but I couldn't afford to let her sabotage my train of thought.
I would have to wait until morning, as there were no Slytherin mudbloods I could assault for clarification.
"Well, I never!" Narcissa exclaimed into the wee hours of the morning, loudly enough to wake the dead.
Nor have I, Cissy, was my only thought as I lay restless throughout the night.
II.
"Good morning, Ted." I angelically spoke, advancing beside him the following morning as we exited the Great Hall.
"Good morning, princ—what are you doing?"
Luckily, as the majority of students were torn between class and breakfast, none one saw as I pushed him into the nearest broom closet.
"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday." I said hastily, not meeting his eyes as I nervously ran a hand through my brunette locks. I don't know what came over me, why I felt the need to speak first?
Did I fear he would berate me?
And why, in Merlin's name, would I feel the need to apologize to a mudblood?
He nodded. "No problem, Black. We have to learn to get along for the sake of prefect duties, if nothing else."
Why did I suddenly take issue with him addressing me by my surname?
"Tell me more about this Andromeda."
Ted hesitated, but quickly obliged upon closer examination of my eyes. I then realized how much the dim light must have enhanced my similarities to Bella.
Theories raced throughout my head when he finished.
Cepheus and Cassiopeia are the king and queen of Ethiopia…
Mother and Father hold dominance over Black Manor…
Andromeda was chained to a rock as punishment for her mother's arrogance…
Mother's boasting has done nothing but backed me into a corner of scholastic expectations and joining the Dark Lord's ranks while presenting myself a lady to the world…
"I'm her!" I gasped out, in between sobs. "I'm so her! I'm….oh God…"
Ted looked absolutely mortified. "What do you mean, 'you're her'"?
"I'm her!" I repeated, grasping his collar, needing him to understand my words. "I'm Andromeda!"
Ted's eyes grew wider as he stared at me in confusion. He probably thought the effects of all the incest were starting to take their toll on me. "Yes. Yes, you are. You're Andromeda Black, seventh year, prefect, student at—"
"No! No! No!" I argued, waving my hands erratically. "I'm your Andromeda!"
"Jesus Christ!" He wrapped his arms around me protectively, allowing me to cry into his chest. I guess we were more than hostile acquaintances now. "Andromeda, I was just trying to talk to you because you're always so distant. That myth is not meant to be taken seriously. If I had had any idea it would upset you—oh, what the hell."
Ted kissed me, clearly aware that reasoning was futile.
I didn't even bother to struggle. I enjoyed it—the gesture was strangely fulfilling. The whole thing was like an out of body experience, honestly. It was so unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Ted Tonks was warm and gentle, a stark contrast to Rabastan Lestrange, a great brute not shy to shove his tongue down my throat, an action cold in terms of genuine affection, and, I'm certain, he has no inkling of what it means to be gentle, much less how to spell the word.
"Don't ever feel like you aren't perfect."
He smiled encouragingly at me, the flash in his eyes conveying pity and incredulity—unsure of how a person of my stature could be so insecure.
"Benjy." My ears registered Ted's call from the hallway as I remained in the small, cramped space. "How do you stop a stop a Black from crying?"
Footsteps ceased immediately.
"How the bloody hell did you end up in Ravenclaw again, Tonks? As a Gryffindor, I won't say I don't enjoy Slytherin suffering, but I'd advise you not to go fucking around with anyone in this school carrying that surname. Bellatrix is one nasty piece of work, and she'll not take kindly to you even looking at her relatives. So, unless you wish to be the one crying…"
III.
It had not come as a great shock to Ted when I selected Ethiopia as our honeymoon destination.
Thus, he tried every excuse in the book in hopes I might just reconsider.
"It's not exactly safe, 'Dromeda."
"Neither are we, Ted. A muggleborn marrying a Black? We have a death wish."
"They don't always get along with their neighbors."
"Nor do I! Nor do you!"
"Ethiopia is practically at war, Andromeda!"
"Muggle Ethiopia, Ted!"
He was cracking. I could see it. I relished my ability to wear him down.
Ted ruffled his hair, furious with himself.
"Morocco is—"
"No."
"Djibouti has—"
"Absolutely not."
"Somalia—"
"Ooh, Somalia!"
Ted halted, eyes bright with gratitude.
I folded my arms, annoyed, and backed away as he attempted to administer a relieved kiss.
"Does Somalia have a legendary princess bearing my name?"
IV.
The sunlight mercilessly crept its way through our blinds.
I rolled over, examining the snoring figure beside me, and smiled, remembering.
"Fuck you."
"If only you should be so lucky."
Last night was….amazing. It was beautiful; it was blissful; it was euphoric.
It was long overdue.
Merlin, I was lucky.
Ted's eyes fluttered open. "Morning, princess."
"Shower, my sweet prince." I pushed him playfully. "The princess wishes to go sightseeing."
V.
Before finalizing our wedding preparations, Ted once more inquired why I had my heart so set on visiting Ethiopia.
I had felt like a teenager again during our engagement—running about his mother's house in efforts of keeping him from snatching the book of fables from me.
"To quell my fears, I have to go. I need to know that this country is far, far removed from the perpetual horror of my former life."
Heading into marriage, I was still heavily scarred. I didn't feel like a woman—I felt like a frightened, helpless puppy tossed to the wind, required to fend for herself. But Ted had been wonderful, through all the crying, through all outbursts, through all screams resulting from recurring nightmares.
I'll admit coming to Ethiopia was a risk, as its Andromeda's life was a reflection of my own. Coming here could've been…triggering. I'll also admit that although not the most skilled Legilimens, I read my husband as easily as a book. His theory was should I encounter an Ethiopian Bella or an Ethiopian Cissy, his broom closet argument would be proven invalid.
He was right.
….this country could potentially destroy me.
But, it became evident, this country was nothing like the confines of Black Manor.
Ethiopia was flawless, a 360o turn from my life as Andromeda Black.
It is unadulterated, from its mountains, to its savannahs, to its wildlife, to its people.
Amare, a handsome young boy with dark skin and thick, curly black hair, soon approached us in the city and offered to escort us about.
He was vaguely arrogant and I was instantly reminded of Sirius.
"….and there's another volcano over there." He informed us, pointing off in the distance as we entered rural landscape. "And over there is—"
"Amare." I interrupted. "What does your name mean?"
He turned around, a sly grin etched onto his face. "It means 'handsome' or 'good looking.'"
I raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Really?"
A fire not present before now burned in his eyes. "Yes, 'really.' What do you want me to say, lady? That I'm not serious? Because I am! I'm serious!""
He couldn't have been more than thirteen, and his attitude, coupled with dark grey eyes, was comforting. Beside me, Ted inhaled sharply. I knew he was waiting for me to collapse at the "I'm serious!" remark; the homonym would surely be too powerful to endure.
VI.
"If I wasn't on my honeymoon, kid, I'd kill you." I overheard Ted snarl as the boy pushed him into the water.
"You'll have to catch me first, old man!" He laughed, dashing into the forest.
I gazed into the distance, at the sunset, striding along the shore of Lake Abaya. I was grateful the beauty of this place and the spirits of its people were not shrouded in waves of discrimination. I was now assured that Black Manorwas the kingdom of Cygnus and Druella—their jurisdiction did not extend beyond the walls of the mansion.
I was then cognizant of how childish I had been—to truly believe the material within a myth paralleled such a spectacular location. I had been foolish to believe that Black Manor was even vaguely comparable to this.
"So." Ted said simply, still soaking, as he wrapped his arms around me. His chin rested on my shoulder. "How does it feel?"
"Ethiopia…" I began carefully, searching for the appropriate words to properly articulate myself. "Ethiopia is where the heart is."
This was true, after all.
Andromeda Black's heart remained hidden in London, in Black Manor.
But Andromeda Tonks' heart belonged, unreservedly, in Ethiopia.
Fin.