Two and a half months after the morning of the Howler to end all Howlers, and Andromeda's life was slowly returning to normal. She had patched things up with Narcissa after plenty of self-flagellation. Things were as they always had been with Imogen. Even Bella was on speaking terms with her now, presumably having heard from Narcissa that their sister had seen sense.

But if things were so normal, then why did Andromeda feel so dead inside? She went to lessons, ate her dinner, did her homework, laughed at Lucius Malfoy's jokes, played wizard chess with Imogen or Evan, and went up to the dormitory where she performed her evening beauty rituals, then sat on her bed and gossiped with the others. She did all of this; but she was doing it as some sort of deep seated reflex. If someone had told her to jump in the lake as part of her daily routine, she would have done it, just so things could be normal.

When I leave school, Andromeda said to herself, I'll come back to life. But until then... until then... Until then, she had to toe the line. She had to maintain a face, a life, a family name. She was of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and she had to be toujours pur. Ted was... well, he was there, but it was like nothing had ever happened. Andromeda didn't know whether to be pleased, or upset. She knew which one she was supposed to be. She also knew which one she would rather be.

In one of those ironic twists of life, he seemed to be everywhere she went. She'd lost count of the number of times she had gone into the Great Hall for meals and ended up sitting directly in his sight; the number of times they had met in corridors and passed without a single word or even a smile; the number of times she'd replayed that kiss in her head. Always her point of view was as if from some disembodied head, hanging above the two of them, watching as first she hugged him, then they kissed...

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Did Ted have any thoughts on the subject? If he did, he was the only one who knew them. He didn't speak about his feelings with Gideon or Sam; he was a man, he didn't need to, wasn't supposed to.

Ted spent the better part of two weeks after the arrival of Druella Black's Howler wondering if there was something he should do. He saw Andromeda in the corridors, her face pale and strained, dark circles under her eyes. Somehow, it made her seem even more beautiful and fragile than ever. But what was there he could do? He had stepped into her life once, briefly, and this was the result. And so, after a fortnight, Ted stepped back, moved on, and tried his best to forget about Andromeda Black.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. Not least because he saw her everywhere - in meals, in classes, between them. He saw her working between stacks of books in the library, her quill scratching away at the parchment before her. Every time he saw her, he wondered for a moment if he should say anything. Even a hello, or a how are you, would have been something... but then he remembered. Step back, move on, forget her.

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In November, everything changed.

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"Ted! I've been looking for you everywhere!" The whisper sounded like a shout in the silence of the library, and Ted's head whipped up from the plant dictionary before him, to see a breathless and slightly muddy Sam standing before him, grinning like a lunatic.

"What's up?" Ted said, a little surprised. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the last time he'd seen Sam had been at lunch, when he'd declared he was spending the rest of the afternoon playing Quidditch with Gideon and scratch mixed teams from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

"Gid wants to see you," Sam panted, "he's had news from home." It can't be bad news, Ted realised, or Sam wouldn't be so happy...

"Molly!" Ted exclaimed, and Sam nodded, still grinning. Without stopping to collect his things, Ted ran out of the library with Sam, on their way to congratulate Gideon Prewett on becoming an uncle.

As they left, Andromeda stared after them, wishing she could share in their excitement - whatever it was. Her head ached; she'd been writing an Arithmancy essay since ten o'clock that morning, with only a brief pause to bolt down a plate of Sunday roast. It was now half past four, and getting dark outside. Andromeda cast a critical eye over the essay. It wasn't due in until Thursday; perhaps she should just put it away, and get out of the library. Yes; that was a good plan.

Andromeda disliked the corridors at Hogwarts on winter afternoons. The lamps, candles and torches were only lit when it became truly dark; in the twilight, the corridors were gloomy and miserable. She walked quickly along the familiar route to the common room, but as she came to the top of the stairs of the Entrance Hall, she froze. There below her was a noisy group of most of the Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in her year, as well as dozens from other years, all of them crowded around Gideon and Fabian Prewett, clutching bottles of butterbeer or firewhiskey.

She could see Ted in the thick of it all, and it was Ted who was shouting, "OI! OI! SHUT UP!" The group quietened down. "I would like to propose a toast," Ted said loudly, "to Mr Gideon Prewett, and Mr Fabian Prewett - uncles!"

"To the uncles!" the crowd roared, and bottles clinked. Then Gideon, his voice full of emotion, said,

"I'd like to propose another toast - to my new nephew, William Weasley!"

"William Weasley!" More clinking, more drinking. Andromeda suddenly realised where she was, and rapidly began to walk down the stairs. As she did, she looked up, and her eyes met Ted's.

Time slowed down, and stopped. For the first time in months, their eyes met, and held. Andromeda could hardly bear it, and looked away, continuing on down the stairs. But something caught her, and as she walked past Gideon Prewett, she stopped.

"Congratulations," she said shyly to a clearly drunk Gideon, who grinned at her. He hasn't realised who I am, Andromeda thought to herself.

"Thank you. Can't believe it, I'm an uncle!" Andromeda smiled back, and then started to walk on. "Hey!" said an indignant Gideon. "Stay! Have a drink!" He definitely hasn't realised who I am.

"Oh, I couldn't..." But suddenly her books were being forcibly removed from her arms, and replaced by a bottle of firewhiskey. "No, really!" Andromeda protested, but the crowd were urging her on, and suddenly she saw Ted's face again. He was smiling at her, and suddenly she didn't care any more. She swigged from the bottle, and people cheered.

"So you Blacks can loosen up then!" one of the boys exclaimed, and Andromeda smiled politely. The drink had set her throat on fire... Blindly, she swigged from the bottle again. More cheers... this stuff wasn't that bad, after all.

"Easy there," came a voice at her elbow, and suddenly Ted was beside her. "That stuff's strong."

"I know what firewhiskey is, thank you," Andromeda said tartly.

"Ouch," Ted said lightly. "That put me in my place." But he was still smiling. Still smiling...

"WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON HERE?" The shocked voice of Professor McGonagall came from the top of the stairs, and even though none of them were doing anything wrong, someone in the crowd shouted

"IT'S MCGONAGALL! RUN!"

The crowd fragmented like a broken mirror. In the confusion, Andromeda didn't know quite what to do, but suddenly, through the crowd, a hand grabbed hers, and pulled her away. She ran with the hand through a tapestry, into a gloomy corridor. All around her was noise and confusion, and then suddenly there was another tapestry, and total darkness, and her heart was beating wildly as the hand she was holding squeezed her tighter than ever. "Who's there?" she gasped, frightened, even though she already knew; perhaps she was merely clutching at the last straws of innocence.

Then came the response, as lips met her own, a kiss which tasted of butterbeer and firewhiskey, hands snaked round her back, pressing her to another body. If this is how losing my innocence feels, the voice in her head said, make it go on forever.