Chapter Three
Remember this: Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny.
-Gregory Maguire: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
January would always be an anti-climax. Andie and her sisters had looked forward to Christmas and the holidays so much that what came after could never be very good. The three of them returned to Hogwarts in weather that was gloomy and dark. All was left of the snow was almost melted away. Mixed with mud and rain it made a dirty sight.
Classes were a dread as well. For Bella, OWLs were approaching, which meant endless studying. She set high standards for herself. Andie herself was only a fourth year, but that did not mean the end of term exams would be a piece of cake. Even Cissy was kept busy with homework; being a Black meant being a high-flyer.
On their first week back, Transfigurations was a particular challenge. The fourth-year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had the class together. Young Professor McGonagall took her job most seriously and ran a tight ship.
"Today we will be turning feathers into a single egg. I assume you have all read the theory?"
No one said a thing, but Andie suspected none of them, including herself, had read the chapter. The holiday had been too full of ice skating, Christmas and parties to bother with homework much.
"Wonderful," McGonagall said briskly. "We will be practising into pairs. One Slytherin with one Hufflepuff, hopefully that will prevent you all from thinking this is merely a tea party."
There was a murmur of disapproval when the students moved about the room to pick up a partner and a feather to practise on. Andie, formerly paired with Maeve Mulciber, moved away to collect a feather and sit back down, waiting for a Hufflepuff to work with.
"Are you free?"
"Free?" Andie stared up into the face of Ted Tonks. It took her a moment to realise what he meant.
"For the class," he grinned a little sheepishly.
"Oh! Yes. Yes, have a seat."
To her great embarrassment, she noticed there was a blush creeping up her face. She had not forgotten about the lake incident. That Ted of all people should join her here seemed like a touch of karma.
She focused on the feather in front of them and, in turns, they practised the incantation.
"So how was your Christmas?" Ted asked. The class was full of students murmuring incantations; which left plenty of room to talk discretely. Especially when Professor McGonagall stopped at the table of two girls who had managed to turn their feather into something that seemed to look a lot like a scrambled egg.
"It was all right," Andie nodded. She barely dared to look at him, afraid he would catch her blushing. Instead she fixed her gaze on the object in front of them. It looked like an egg, but it was still covered in feathers. She doubted they would be awarded full grades on that.
"Look Ted, I wanted to tell you I'm really sorry about what happened. You know, at the lake?" If she looked up now, she would flush scarlet. She would deserve it, undoubtedly.
"Are you?"
He sounded neutral; without looking at him it was hard to interpret whether he was being serious, or just teasing her.
"Defended me to your sister, did you? Made sure she wouldn't use such a word again?"
Just when Andie was doubting whether she would run away, or burst into tears, she looked up to see him grinning widely at her.
"Just kidding. I got you there, did I?" he beamed. "Don't worry about it; I can handle a bad word or two. Could have defended myself better, if I'd wanted to."
"Of course," she smiled at him. "Why didn't you?"
"I don't hex girls. Not if I can help it, anyway," he widened his grin further, and together they bent back over their feathered egg to give it another attempt.
At dinner, Andie could not help but sport a smile. There was something about Ted Tonks's face she could not forget. All throughout the day she remembered their talk, and his nice smile. In the Great Hall, she was joined by Bella and the rest of their little Slytherin group: girls and boys of only the finest Pureblood heritage. They were a tightly knit group described by others as the Slytherin in-crowd, and seldom spoke to anyone not included if they could help it. Not that this meant they were all very loyal to one another. Membership by blood purity said little of how well they got along. Some were more than ready to drink each other's blood.
"Anyone else invited to Slughorn's party?" Lucius Malfoy inquired smugly. "I hear he's invited a special guest or two this time, as a way to start the new year, so to say."
"Invited? Of course," Bella spoke up, exchanging a glance with Andie. "Going? Not sure. If the best special guest he can come up with is some second-rang Quidditch captain of the Cannons then I know better ways to spend my time."
"Too good for a school party, Black?" Malfoy scowled. "My sources tell me the special guest has nothing to do with Quidditch this time, so you may want to reconsider."
"Your sources would know all about that would they?" Bella snorted. "Well, are you going to drop us a hint or should we guess and hope for the best?"
Bella started on dinner rather casually, but it was obvious she was agitated. If Lucius knew more than she did, something had gone wrong. She sipped her pumpkin juice absent-mindedly and ran a hand through her wild tangle of black curls to force herself to keep her composure.
"A hint. Indeed," Malfoy drawled casually, his eyes wandering to see who else was present to witness his superiority in this. "You shall have to see for yourself. It isn't my place to spread gossip. But let's just say the guest has everything to do with a certain political move that means to change every aspect of the Wizarding World as it is now," he paused. "But then again, I suppose it wouldn't be very interesting to you. It's more of a male topic, I believe."
Bella nearly choked on her pumpkin juice and set her glass down with a thud so loud its contents gushed over the top. Every aspect of her face, which had every potential to look beautiful, contorted in an ugly sort of rage.
"You dare?" she panted breathlessly. "You have the nerve? You Malfoy? Of all people!" Bella's rage upon being insulted had momentarily robbed her of the power of speech, but it was returning to her quickly.
"A male topic, you say?" she threw her head back and laughed, her hand automatically reaching for her wand. "I'll show you how worthless the male part of you is!"
Andie hated to see her sister like this. Some of the others around them were laughing at the uproar, but she did not think it very funny at all. Sure, Malfoy deserved someone to stand up against his self-proclaimed superiority. Why should that always be Bella? One wrong word and Bella's mood could change completely. It was a little frightening, even to witness without being the subject of her rage.
"Bella, don't!" she hissed, grabbing her sister's free arm. "Just think for a second. Teachers all around and we're already behind in points for the House Cup!"
She kept thinking about Ted's so-called mockery about her telling her sister off. She didn't dare glance towards the Hufflepuff table, but secretly she hoped he was watching. Many students were; the possibility of an uproar was always interesting.
Bella, on the other hand, seemed to consider her options. She was still fuming, but Slytherin pride was important to her.
Suddenly she made her decision. "We're going," she announced, grabbing Andie's hand to pull her along with her, far away from the Great Hall and Malfoy's triumphant smile.
"But let me tell you this, Malfoy," she said to the blond fifth-year. He too had his wand out and looked more than ready to use it. "The last word on this has not been said."
Andie followed her sister back to the Slytherin common room and, up the stairs towards Bella's dormitory.
"I'll show him exactly what I think of his sexist ideas," Bella exclaimed furiously. "If Slughorn's invited a Death Eater, I'm going. And you should too."
"A what?"
"A Death Eater, that's what they're called."
"They?" Andie felt quite stupid at her obvious lack of knowledge.
Bella rolled her eyes in exasperation and dropped down onto the bed. "The followers of the man that calls himself the Dark Lord. We're not supposed to talk about it until he's gained a steady power, but I know Father is involved. And uncle Oreon. His intention is to regain the power of the Purebloods. He's behind the attacks on muggleborns. He's recruiting an army, they say. They call themselves the Death Eaters."
A shiver ran down Andie's spine, and not just at her sister's words. The expression on Bella's face was one of what might be called utter devotion. Her eyes turned glassy and her mind seemed in a place far away.
"I don't know about all that, Bella. Aren't we a little young for it? Why would Slughorn invite someone like that?"
"Because Slughorn is foolish enough to invite anyone that makes it seem like he's got impressive connections," Bella sighed impatiently. "This could well be our chance."
"Our chance?" Andie repeated. She wasn't all that enthusiastic about this prospective meeting. It gave her an uncomfortable sense of foreboding.
"Yes. Our chance to do something of value to the Pureblood world. To show Mother it isn't such a shame to have only daughters. To show idiots like Malfoy he's no better than us. On the contrary: he'll never be accepted into their circle. How can he be? They're looking for bravery and loyalty. People who put The Cause first, not their own arrogant little self."
"And how do you know all this?" Andie dropped down on her sister's four-posted bed. She was cold, and had a bad taste in her mouth. Bella had hurried them off so suddenly she had barely had a bite of dinner, but she was glad for that now.
"Like Malfoy, I too have my sources," Bella grinned. "So, are you in or not?"
Andie watched her sister's eager face and could not bring herself to disappoint her. "All right," she finally sighed. "I'll come with you to the stupid meeting, but it'll probably be boring." She tried to convince herself Slughorn's parties and gatherings of 'the Slugclub' had never been more than a gathering of those he thought had a certain potential. She still had a bad feeling about it, though. She didn't think Ted would like such meetings. But then again; what could it really entail? Slughorn was a teacher; it couldn't be more than a bit of political education.
Present
After her conversation with Lucia in the park, Andie had kept word and consulted the Healer on duty on her next shift at St Mungo's hospital. She had always felt at home there. She had started her training as a mediwitch when she and Ted were newlyweds still living in with his parents. Getting a job then had seemed like a good way to earn some extra money while they saved up for a place of their own. It had quickly become so much more than that. She had loved doing something useful. With the traditional and conservative upbringing she had had, she had never thought she would be working at all. It had been another thing that felt so deliberating to do, simply because she wanted it.
"So how bad is it?" she inquired.
Healer Rowdes sat facing her; his expression not exactly the most cheerful. He was one of the oldest Healers employed here at St Mungo's. When Andie had just finished her medical training all these years ago, he had been a new Healer, looking for a friendly face among the many demanding. They had worked together quite often. It seemed bittersweet her colleague of many years should be the one to deliver bad news to her. For bad news it was, considering his expression. And somehow, it was not such a surprise.
"Are you sure you don't want to message someone to come and join you? I mean, I know your grandson's still at Hogwarts, but what about your sister? Or your nephew or niece?"
"I'm tougher than I look," she grimaced. "I assure you Valerius, I can handle it, whatever it is."
She'd known for a while something was wrong, and that she was denying it. She wasn't that old; she shouldn't be tired all the time. And these pains that had kept getting worse every time, taking her breath away at the most inconvenient of moments. She'd kept her eyes closed when Healer Rowdes performed the spells to examine her, and then waited patiently while they went to check her blood. Sometimes St Mungo's compared their methods to those of muggle hospitals. After all, it was always a good thing to try and learn from other cultures. It seemed silly, though. Even the simplest things such as checking blood results could take days for muggles.
Andie pitied the man across the table. He was a fine Healer; one of the best she had known in her working life. But still he brought news like this and crushed lives now and then. Being a witch or a wizard did not guarantee eternal life, after all. She of all people would know that.
"It's cancer, then," she stated when she grew impatient with his lingering silence. She didn't really need the nod he sadly gave.
"I wish you would have come sooner," he said, no longer in the professional sense of Healer to patient. Rather: friend to friend. "Of course we'll waste no time and start every treatment there is. There are new experiments, mixing our methods with those of muggles. Some of those have been proven quite effective. "
"I don't know about all that, I'm not as young as I used to be," she murmured, her mind drifting off. Teddy. Teddy was her main concern. What would he do without her? He was only fourteen. Fourteen wasn't old enough to have no one. No age was old enough for that.
"No, but you're far from old," he disagreed. "And otherwise in good health. This isn't a lost battle yet."
A battle. Andie was much too familiar with battles. Sometimes it felt like her whole life was one big battle. This was another fight she ought to win. She didn't hear much of the Healer's words explaining more details and suggestions of treatment; everything was surreal. Somehow she had survived the talk and she was back at home, without remembering how she got there. The house was the same as it had been this morning when she left, but the feeling was entirely different.
A letter from Teddy, arrived by owlpost, was waiting for her. She couldn't even bring herself to open it. Exhausted, she sank down on the sofa and reached for her one object of comfort; Ted's picture. It was one of the muggle photographs; an immobile one. Everything in their house was a mixture between the muggle world and the wizarding world.
She traced the picture's outline with her finger and pressed a kiss towards it. How she missed him. It never changed. Years cut off the roughest edges, but moments like these her grief was worse than ever. Ted would have known what to do. He would have said something cheerful to brighten her spirits. She would have to manage it on her own now. Entirely on her own; Teddy could not be burdened with this. Nor could Draco with his busy job and young family, or Lucia with her pregnancy.
In a sentimental moment she clutched the picture to her. Of course. Never entirely alone.
