Everything was a bit hazy. Her journey back home to the Black Manor was a lot blurrier than she recalled the trip to Charity's home being. She regretted, perhaps, that one last glass of champagne she had undertaken per Molly's request. The Knight's Bus had been a wonder itself, the fast turns and abrupt halts had all but made Andromeda lose the food she had gluttonously devoured at the party in her excitement for once not being watched by her mother's sharp eye. She regretted the sheer amount of hors d'oeuvres she had eaten as well.

The Knight's Bus, however, had been the least trialing part of her journey. She had not realized, until she had arrived, that she would once again have to scale the ornamental gate that separated the rest of the road from the property, but also climb up the tree that had almost been her undoing upon her escape. She was thus, starring up at the gate with a sense of dread and confusion as she tried to imagine a way to get herself back to her room.

Perhaps, she concluded, she ought not to have spurned Ted's offer to assist her home. She had pointed out he would not be the safest on a pureblood estate, and she still thought that was a good assessment of the fact, but as she looked up at the large gate that loomed before her she could not help but wistfully recall Ted's height and faint grasp of sobriety. She was absolutely certain that she would gauge herself upon one of the spikes that sat upon the very top. She, perhaps unfairly, blamed her mother for her predicament, finding it was her mother who had probably insisted on the sharp spike, for show as it were.

Swallowing any last regrets, Andromeda began a blurry climb up the gates, jamming her feet into any hole she could find. Not too long after she began, and stumbled a bit up the gate, clumsier than she had been when she was scaling to escape, Andromeda reached the top. She looked at the spikes with a sense of foreboding, imagining the worst. It was almost inevitable that they would cut her, Andromeda would just have to try and minimize the damage. This was not easy, however, due to her relatively intoxicated state and lack of motor skills. How had she let herself get so besotted anyways?

Taking the plunge, Andromeda grasped the base of the spikes and tried to lift herself over. She was successful, in that she made it over, but less successful in preserving her own wellbeing. Her skirt caught on one of the spikes and Andromeda, awkwardly positioned on the other side, tried to wrestle herself free. She managed it, just barely, and her skirt ripped, startling Andromeda as she stumbled against the gate, barely holding on at the sudden force. Dimly Andromeda hoped that there was no remaining fabric on the top of the gate from where her skirt had ripped. She went to check, but in her attempt to free herself she had momentarily lost grip of the gate and fallen, grasping back on lower than she had at first realized. In short, the spikes were no longer in her reach.

Although aware that a single piece of fabric left behind could be her undoing, the thing that tipped her mother off of her late night excursion, Andromeda could not bring herself to climb back up the gate to the spikes to check to be sure if they were all free of any scrap fabric. It seemed, when she looked up at the top of the gate, to stretch up forever, perhaps aided by her unclear mind, and Andromeda decided it was altogether pointless.

She finished her descent down the rest of the gate and found, to her own satisfaction, that she had come out of the event relatively unscathed. Now she would just have to make up the tree, through the window, and her nice bed would be waiting for her. The thought of her bed is what kept her going. She began the trek across the expansive land, cursing the large estate in her mind, when she realized, to her own alarm, that the guests of the ball were only just vacating her home. They were trickling out, slowly and drunkenly, to where the cleared apparition point was on the expanse of lawn. This point was, of course, in direct eyesight of the path she had to take and therefore she would be seen. Andromeda groaned at her misfortune.

Even in her poorly functioning state, Andromeda was still a thinker and she began to devise a way to get back inside. Perhaps, she concluded if she doubled around and followed the edge of trees on the property then she could make her way back to her window unseen. Disgruntled, she began her journey back down the hill and towards the edge of the property. She made it to the trees and began to pass from tree to tree. She had not taken into account, however, how close the trees passed to this apparition point and, with a sharp intake of breath Andromeda neared terrifyingly close to some of the witches and wizards who had been in attendance. They were gathered about a port key, apparently too drunk to trust themselves to apparate, and were all chatting amiably.

Andromeda stopped behind a tree and poked her head out slightly, watching to see when they would be paying the least attention. To her dismay there was always a wizard positioned just so that they would catch her if she tried to cross to the next tree. Wishing she could just be back in her bed, asleep and happy, Andromeda tried to think of a way out of this jam. She supposed, given the state of these wizards, that they were drunk enough to not be believed if they saw a movement in between the trees, or to write it off themselves. She would have to hope, at least, that they would not at once presume to investigate. She surveyed the group one last time, before picking the optimal moment to go. She crouched down and began an army like crawl between the two trees, keeping an eye at all times on the assembled group who were still trying to negotiate the portkey between them.

Letting out a breath of relief Andromeda stood up against the tree and stuck her head out slightly once again. The witches and wizards had finally made it out but another group was coming from the ballroom. To her dismay part of this group included not only Walden MacNair, but Persimmon Nott and her brother Theodore as well. Andromeda admired, despite herself, how well Walden was getting on with the two Notts considering they had only just gotten in a fight a few hours back.

"But do you think she's all right?" She heard Walden ask, loudly and drunk.

"Just ill is what Bellatrix said." Theodore replied, equally as loud.

Andromeda realized with a feeling or misplaced flattery that they were concerned about her. She ducked back behind the tree and held her breath, stupidly perhaps as there was almost no chance that they would see her.

"D'you think she'll be cross about before though?" Walden continued genuine concern etching into his voice.

"If I remember correctly, she will definitely be cross." Another voice remarked.

Andromeda whipped her head out from behind the tree to match the voice to the face, and to her shock found it was Charles Parkinson. What were the chances?

Andromeda was about ready to give up hope and wait until they all left, before being overcome with the overriding need to pee. The amount of alcohol and various other drinks she had consumed in the evening had finally worked their way into her bladder and she winced against the tree, hating her life. She had no choice, she would have to try and make it to the next tree now.

Taking in a big gulp of air Andromeda began her army crawl once more between the trees, trying to be as quiet as possible. She was, of course, still drunk and clumsier than usual, and so she was unsuccessful.

"Oi. Did you see that?" Walden asked, cutting off Persimmon and looking exactly where Andromeda had stumbled over a stick.

Andromeda stared back, wide eyed, unsure to keep going or to wait it out.

"See what?" Theodore Nott replied looking over to where Walden was gesturing.

"Something moved over there." Walden proclaimed taking a step forward. "We ought to check it out."

Charles and Theodore shrugged and took a step forward as well, to Andromeda's horror. Andromeda stared for a few seconds before her fight or flight instincts kicked in, and abandoning all sense of self-preservation got up, remaining slightly stooped, and began to run as if her life depended on it. Tripping over sticks and rocks as she went.

"The fuck was that?" Walden declared, eyes wide.

Andromeda, for good measure, let out an animal-esque noise, attempting to imitate the call of a hippogriff. The effect, although not very similar to a hippogriff, was terrifying enough to hold the wizards back for a second.

"Should we follow it…?" Theodore Nott asked unsure at Andromeda's retreating figure.

"I don't bloody think so." Charles replied at once. "I'm not going after some hell-spawn."

"Definitely not." Walden agreed casting a wary eye at the spot Andromeda had emerged from.

Andromeda, panting, reached the tree that sat outside her window and, still assuming the boys had given chase, jumped at the tree, grasping onto a branch and pulling herself off. She took this opportunity, seemingly safe, to check and see if any of them had followed after her. Upon finding that they had not, she allowed herself a few seconds to regain her breath before beginning to climb the tree. She reached the branch and made her way slowly towards her window, so close she could almost taste it.

She reached the end of the branch, and terrified she might lose her balance, carefully stood up before leaping towards her open window, hoping beyond hope that she would make it safely to the other side. To her disbelief, she landed safely on the plush carpet of her room and had to refrain from letting out a whoop of relief. She turned around, closed the window as it was freezing, before speeding off to the bathroom to pee and take into stock the horror she was sure was her appearance.


At least the winter holiday had ended and Andromeda found herself back on the Hogwarts Express sitting in a compartment with Bellatrix. It was incredible for her to look back and think of how only three months prior she had boarded this train with Bellatrix closer than best friends. Only three months back they had been inseparable almost and now, after a series of unfortunate events she wished she were anywhere but in that compartment, sitting across from Bellatrix who looked like she would occasionally try to open her mouth to say something, apologize maybe, only to shut it again and continue to stare at the wall.

Andromeda was looking pointedly out of the window wondering what her friends were up to in their own compartment. She imagined it was more fun than the awkward air that filled her own. Andromeda and Bellatrix had not talked since the incident and Andromeda didn't see herself forgiving her sister anytime in the near future. Bellatrix, still feeling guilty about going too far, had tried to speak up to her sister but had not been able to due to her Black pride. It did not help that in her heart of hearts still believed she had been in the right, even if she had been wrong to use the Unforgiveable. She had not been incorrect to chastise Andromeda, and as Andromeda did not seem to show any sort of regret over her actions Bellatrix would not give her the satisfaction of cracking first.

Andromeda glanced at her watch and saw to her relief it was time for the Prefects Meeting. She did not particularly enjoy the mundane meetings, but considering a number of her growing friends were prefects and it meant she could leave the compartment where Bellatrix continued to remain stoic; she looked forward to it with a weird sort of glee.

"Prefects meeting." She said to the compartment, the most words she had said to Bellatrix since the incident before getting up and leaving.

A weight seemed to have lifted almost as soon as Andromeda left the compartment. She hadn't realized just how tense she felt within the compartment with Bellatrix. She hoped that it wouldn't be so tense for the rest of the year, although soon Bellatrix would be graduating and getting married and Andromeda technically wouldn't have to see her ever again. It was odd that, three months past she had looked on Bellatrix's graduation and marriage with a sense of sadness. She still did, if she was honest with herself, but she also felt a sense of relief, aware of how much more freedom she would have without Bellatrix breathing down her neck nonstop.

She arrived at the Prefect's Meeting earlier than she had realized and for once had prime seating. She sat down next to Persimmon and was sure to steer clear of Penelope Penrose, who was once again emitting more perfume than any human being could ever need. Andromeda felt bad for whoever ended up sitting next to her.

"Andromeda." Persimmon said once she was seated. "I think you might have some demon spawn living at your estate."

"Well, I know Bellatrix is perhaps a bit angry but I do think that is going a bit far." Andromeda replied confused by the sudden comment.

"Not your sister." Persimmon said laughing slightly. "When I was living the ball on New Year's there was this weird animal and it made this weird sound. Kind of like a dying hippogriff?"

Andromeda tried not to laugh.

"How odd." She remarked frowning. "I didn't hear anything. My window is fairly close to the apparition point, you'd think I'd have heard."

"Well, you were sick, weren't you? You might have been asleep." Persimmon mused. "You are looking much better by the way, I'm glad you got over whatever it was quickly."

"I think it was just one of those twenty-four hour flus, New Year's Day I spent mostly in bed." Andromeda replied, leaving out that she had stayed in bed due to a hangover.

"It's too bad you had to miss the festivities." Persimmon said. "Trevor and I had a great time."

"Certainly a better time than I did." Andromeda agreed with a laugh. "There's always next year."

"That's a whole year away though!" Persimmon cried. "Next year I'll be married. We'll be in different social circles. Weird to think about, innit?"

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that." Andromeda realized reflecting on how much her life was going to change over the next year.

It was odd how one could never quite be aware of what the future would hold. Certainly this time last year Andromeda had not expected her life to have been where it was now. How could she have? This time last year Andromeda had been expecting what exactly? Another year with her sisters, certainly. Another year of limited freedom before she got married off to Walden, she hadn't really been expecting much if she looked back. This year, however, held so much in store for her, things she could not even begin to fathom. She'd be learning to apparate, she had a whole new set of friends of which she couldn't even talk to openly, she was leading a double life, as it were, and she had no idea where her life would go over the next few months.

Andromeda, for possibly the first time, was afraid. Her whole life had been planned out for her, this time last year she had known exactly what was going to happen, but now, she had no idea. In a way she knew she would still end up where she was meant to be, she would still end up married to Walden, unhappy but getting by, but there was a whole two years of her life left that was being left unaccounted for. While pureblood occasions were marked on her calendar, specific events that would rule and govern her life, they were far and few. For nine months out of a year she was at school, a place ungoverned by her parents and expectations. Given, she still was limited by her sisters' monitoring, but there was a certain freedom she lacked at home. She could do anything, be anything for this last stretch of adolescence.

No longer tied down by Bellatrix or worries of what Bellatrix would think, no longer going back to a sister who seemed only more and more to tolerate her, Andromeda would be able to be herself in a way she had never had before. It was odd, that upon meeting Ted Tonks and Hestia Jones and Xenophilius she had met a group of people that could accept her as she was, perhaps always slightly racist, perhaps a bit uptight, but they did not judge her on expectations that had been put forth for her. It was odd but Andromeda had somehow managed to find herself a proper group of friends, something, she realized now, she had never actually had before. Bellatrix and her had been friends, yes, reliant on the other, but even then she had had to conform to Bellatrix's ideals, mind what Bellatrix wanted.

She was free, free for once in her life, and she realised with a sense of foreboding that this freedom that seemed to give her hope and an odd sense of belonging would be taken away from her in two years' time. Less than that even. She would have to go back to being miserable, barely contented of what life would give her. Would she be able to? Would she be able to go back and be at all happy after experiencing what it was like to be a normal person, someone who didn't have a set of rules and decorum to follow? Before she had thought that she could at least get by, but now, now she hadn't the slightest idea.

Why did it seem, that every time Andromeda found herself happy in life, finally felt like she was doing something right, finally getting the experience that teenagers seemed to brag of in their later years, she had to bring herself back down by reflecting on the inevitable and miserable end? It seemed most people could go on and ignore the future, enjoy life as it was, but Andromeda always had one foot in the future, minding herself. She always had that strange pessimistic ideal that she would eventually be doomed, and how could one truly enjoy themselves in the present if they were always aware of the fact that they were doomed in the future?

She couldn't commit to going further and further down the rabbit hole if she knew that it would be harder to climb back and accept her life on the surface. She couldn't experience the wonders of life, a life of freedom and friendship, knowing that she would have to give it all up once again. If she were to experience this life she would never be able to go back to the humdrum of pureblood society, could she?

It would be best then, wouldn't it, to stop now, before she got in too deep, to pretend it had never happened, to ignore her blooming friendships and try and fit back into a world that she had momentarily vacated. She couldn't help but feel, however, that she had changed too much since then. It would be like finding a puzzle piece that fit well enough into the puzzle, that if enough effort was put on it would fit between the pieces and give a false sense of accomplishment, but eventually the puzzle would be well enough formed that it was evident the piece didn't quite fit, it had been masquerading well enough, blending in with the other lavenders or clouds, but it had never quite seemed right. It had been a bit off, it was easy to ignore, when the focus was just on finishing the puzzle, trying to find the most pieces, but impossible to ignore once it was obvious that hit had never really fit in the first place.

Andromeda had become that puzzle piece, it would be impossible to go back now, she couldn't truly. She could try, but she would always be changed. Her Uncle Alphard was that puzzle piece, and it was only a matter of time before he too showed his true colors, when it was realized he hadn't belonged in the puzzle at all. This was why people were burned off the family tree, they simply no longer belonged, possibly had never been wrong, there had been something defective about them from the start, easily missed in their youth, but made increasingly obvious over time. Andromeda was beginning to feel with a sense of horror that she fit into that group, that she had never really truly belonged, if she thought about it she hadn't, that perhaps her life was always going to end this way.

Wouldn't that just make her mother deliriously happy? To get rid of the off little weed that had grown into her picture perfect family? There would be the shame, of course, of raising such an outcast, but it seemed her mother had always hoped that she could be easily forgotten, ceased to exist. In a weird way however, Andromeda would miss her mother, she would miss her whole family, as screwed up as they were, she loved them, and she felt, even if they could never really show it, that they loved her too.

Ted Tonks words rang with Andromeda, from all those months back. They seemed to have been ages ago. He had said, in an almost all knowing tone, to her confusion, that she had been different. She had been confused ,then, mystified by the idea, but now it just seemed to fit so perfectly. Perhaps she had been right when she had mused there had been something genetically wrong with her during one of her solitary patrols, maybe there had been. Maybe after years and years of inbreeding the Blacks had managed to not get something right. Maybe, perhaps, instead of insanity or deformity, inbreeding within magical families lead to odd defections. An inability to accept life as it was. This would explain, in an odd way, why so many people had been struck off her family tree. Andromeda had just been unfortunate enough to be the one born with the disability.

It had been inevitable, therefore, from birth that this would happen to her, destined even. It had been almost impossible for her to have strayed any other way, hadn't there? Certainly she had made enough ruckus as a child for this theory to be believable. Her life was always going to end in one of two ways, disgrace and banishment from her family, an overpowering obviousness of her difference, of her inability to keep on the family path, or a life of sorrow and discontentedness, where she would look back on these few months with a sort of longing and nostalgia, the happy times of her life.

Andromeda did not want either of those lives to be her reality, why could one not just be happy with the people they cared for? It seemed so simple for everyone else. Molly had easily gotten out of her arranged marriage, Charity and Hestia seemed to be overcoming all odds and were happy, Xenophilius was, well Xenophilius, and evidently enjoying all the wonders that that seemed to possess. So why, then, could Andromeda's life not be so simple? Why could she not just wake up one morning and have all of her problems easily fixed? Why was everyone thing that happened in her life a crisis?

Her life might end in one of those two paths, leaving her ultimately miserable even in her slight happiness, the misery outweighing any good that could come of either scenario, but damned if Andromeda wasn't going to try her hardest to find some middle ground between the two. If she tried hard enough, then she could have everything she wanted, couldn't she? She was a Black, after all, and a Black always got what they wanted. Even if what they wanted was as unorthodox as Andromeda's wants.

Andromeda, lost in her own thoughts had missed nearly the entire Prefect's Meeting, and had therefore missed Molly's final address. Molly was therefore, looking at Andromeda expectantly, as if she had just asked her something, or perhaps made a point involving Andromeda and expected Andromeda's confirmation. Andromeda, too overwhelmed with her seemingly miserable future and barely withstanding resolve, one that she did not put much faith in, did not care in the slightest about any withstanding humiliation that may come to her via this awkward moment. She was well past caring what one measly debacle would have on her, when the rest of her life seemed so complex. She therefore, blinked at Molly, coming back to the world, before standing up and clearing her throat.

"Pardon me," She declared straightening out her dress, "but I am in the middle of an existential crisis."

With nothing left to say, and no idea what else to do, she made her way to the exit of the compartment and walked out of the door. She felt bad for perhaps putting Molly and Arthur in a difficult situation at her sudden departure, but she had too much to sort and revise, to plan and try, to be too bothered at the moment. She therefore continued on her way to the compartment that she had previously been inhabiting with her sister, where she knew it would be quiet and would offer no distractions or interruptions.

Upon arrival, however, Andromeda found that the compartment was filled with Bellatrix's new friends, those she had briefly glimpsed at the Knights of Walpurgis meeting, who Andromeda had no wish to consort with in the least. It seemed, in an odd way, the final drawing of a line between Bellatrix and Andromeda. Bellatrix had replaced her, quite easily, and seemed to be engaged in an excited dialogue with one of the wizards that filled the compartment. Andromeda felt a pang of loss, one she was sure would never really go away, it was the definitive end, one that she had not been expecting. Even if she had been irate at what Bellatrix had done, she had always assumed that the bridge could be rebuilt slowly over time, she would forgive her eventually, but that did not seem so.

It was possible that such a simple thing as offering their compartment to fellow Knights members had not seemed a definitive end to their relationship to Bellatrix, the proverbial nail in the coffin, but in some odd way it was. Bellatrix had always waited in quiet impatience for Andromeda to return from her Prefect's meeting, often griping about how Andromeda was really the only one she could stand upon her returning, but it seemed Andromeda had been entirely replaced.

It was the first real knock of reality that she could not tread in this middle ground, find a place between these two paths. Andromeda and Bellatrix were done, they would never be again, they couldn't be. In some odd and unforeseeable way the two had grown apart, become too different to be recognizable to the other, and Andromeda would have to accept this fact, even if it left a hole in her heart that would possibly never be filled. Andromeda would still love who Bellatrix had been until the day she died, much as Bellatrix would love the sister she had lost until her last moments, the one she had spent all those days together with, they had planned a life together, imperfect in reality, but perfect because they would be together. They had changed however, somehow, and it would never be.

It was for all these reasons and more, that Andromeda found herself occupying a compartment with confused first year's, mourning her first real casualty in what would, without a doubt, be a lifetime of loss.


Life went on, as it is apt to do, and even if it felt to Andromeda that she had lost something more precious than could even begin to be fathomed, she was forced to keep on. It was easier, as each day went, to ignore the gnawing hole in her heart, some days it was entirely ignorable, barely even recognizable, but rather a vague feeling. Other days however, the days she saw Bellatrix laughing or smelt Bellatrix's perfume, that she was reminded of times lost, time that had been, times that could have been, that would never be. She tried, however, to keep on through the pain, and each day it was eased more and more.

She figured it would be easier when she was not faced with the visual reminder of what had been taken from her, if she did not have to look upon this person who had taken over her sister's shape. This cruel being that was barely recognizable as the girl she had once loved. As it was, Andromeda had spent progressively more time with Persimmon Nott, an odd ally and friend where she had not expected it, and, to her slight horror, Zelda Greengrass, a girl until recently she had not been able to stand.

It was beneficial, however, in that Zelda Greengrass was a sixth year where Persimmon was not, and therefore had most classes with Andromeda, or at least the standard ones. Zelda was not necessarily academic, and had perhaps five NEWT classes, but in the classes where Andromeda lacked Zelda she could spend time with her proper friends, or if that failed her, as it at times did, pay attention.

Class was, after all, not a social occasion but one where the student was to pay attention and learn, particularly if they wanted to pass their NEWTs at the end of their career.

It was in this state of half-living, trying to move on and being unable to, still worried about her future and feeling as though her life was spiraling out of control that Ted decided to address the issue at hand.

Ted Tonks, never one for being afraid to discuss topics that no one else wanted to mention, lacking the tact or at least politeness to respect when someone wanted to be left alone, had no quarrels with prodding Andromeda when she was visibly upset. Where everyone else had been treading with a certain respectful distance from whatever it was that seemed to be bothering Andromeda, Ted was of the sort that believed it was better to air one's issue than to mull over it endlessly, how else could one move on?

It was for this reason, that upon their second patrol of the new year, Ted had promised to be respectful and let Andromeda be for the first patrol after the continuing badgering of his friends that he brought up the issue at hand. As best he could without actually knowing what the issue at hand comprised of.

"You all right Dromeda?" He asked, breaking the silence that had weighed between them.

"Peachy." Andromeda replied at once. "Yourself?"

"Oh, I'm doing all right. I don't think I did too well on that Defense Against the Dark Arts exam we had, but in fairness I don't think Bones really expected any of us to study over holiday." Ted answered. "Bit worried about you though."

"About me, whatever for?" Andromeda asked looking up slightly startled.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dromeda, but you've been positively catatonic since we got back from holiday." Ted answered worry evident on his face. "You didn't get caught sneaking back in did you?"

"Oh, no, that went off without a hitch." Andromeda assured. "Mostly, at least."

"Mostly?" Ted inquired eyebrow raised.

"Well I got stuck on the gate and then I almost got caught by Persimmon and that lot, but I made it back undetected." Andromeda said. "They do think some odd hell spawn exists on my property now though.

Ted laughed despite himself, before noting the complete lack of humor in Andromeda's voice.

"What's wrong, then?" He asked smile dropping from his face.

"Nothing is wrong." Andromeda replied waving him off. "I don't know why you think something is wrong, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Ted pointed out.

"Well thanks for that, mate." Andromeda retorted.

"First time I even began to believe you there." Ted remarked. "That was the first time since we got back you've even begun to act like yourself."

Andromeda, instead of responding, fixed her eyes forward and went back to pretending Ted did not exist, as she had been doing with most people since she had gone into her reflective mourning. Ted let her be for a few seconds, deciding that perhaps she was just thinking up a good explanation, before becoming impatient and trying again.

"What is going on?" He demanded, stopping abruptly and grabbing Andromeda's arm.

"Why are you so pushy? I told you nothing is wrong." Andromeda exclaimed, annoyance edging into her voice.

"It's called being a good friend, there's clearly something going on in there." Ted replied, gesturing to Andromeda's head.

"I told you nothing is wrong! Just leave it." Andromeda ordered, wrenching her arm free from where Ted still held it lightly. "I'm done patrolling for the day, you can finish up by yourself if you want."

"We aren't supposed to patrol alone." Ted called as Andromeda began to stalk off.

"Then go get Molly or Arthur, I really don't care, Ted." Andromeda spat over her shoulder. "I don't think you could even begin to fathom how much I don't give a damn about some patrolling rules right now."

Andromeda turned around the corner before Ted could reply, and he considered for a few fleeting moments to go after her, but he was thrown by her reaction. In most of his instances in life, if he pushed then the person would give, it would often just take a bit of time before the person let go what was bothering them. Andromeda, however did not seem to be of that sort of person.

He considered for a moment, the responsibilities of the patrol, of abandoning it, but he had never much cared about being a prefect, it had been accidental at best, mostly at Ted's being well-liked by everyone, and he had never taken the job quite as seriously as other prefects. It was thus, taking a deep breath of preparation of the onslaught that was sure to befall him that he took off after the irate Andromeda.

He came upon her rather quickly, she had seemed to be expecting him and had not made off as quickly as she could have under the circumstances, almost perhaps if she had hoped to be stopped. This was a good enough sign for Ted.

"Andromeda." He began, hesitantly, not sure what would meet him.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" Andromeda responded at once, whirling around. "I'm fine, for Merlin's sake I've never been better!"

"That is entirely believable. My apologies." Ted remarked at once, unable to stop himself. "It's clear you are not at all upset, so I'll just be going now."

He made a move to head off, something that had often enticed a reaction when his sister's had been unwilling to share their own distress, and to his relief, Andromeda seemed to be hesitant on whether or not she actually wanted him to leave.

"Wait-I-I don't know." Andromeda faltered, biting her lip. "Why do you have to be so pushy?"

"I can't help it." Ted said with a shrug. "Everyone else has been leaving you alone though and that obviously isn't working, so I figure it's about time we tried my approach."

"That sounds ominous." Andromeda pointed out.

"Less ominous than you'd think, my approach has always been talking stuff out. It's worked out pretty well in the past, I can give you references." Ted explained, smiling slightly.

Andromeda looked at him horrified.

"Purebloods don't talk about your problems do you?" He asked knowingly.

Andromeda shook her head curtly.

"I am not surprised at all." He declared. "The pureblood method obviously isn't working though, it might just be time for a change."

"No." Andromeda disagreed at once. "I'm not going to change again because that's the problem. That is the whole bloody problem in this whole bloody tragedy that is my life. It never will end well, I don't fit anymore. I don't fit anymore and I'm slowly losing everything. I've already lost Bellatrix, who knows what's next."

"Haven't you gained some things too, though? Ted offered, taking a tentative step forward.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't make up for the losses. This only ends in two ways, I either try and affix myself back into pureblood society like my uncle or I end up burned off the family tree like everyone else that have been different." Andromeda exclaimed.

"That's pretty pessimistic." Ted observed. "I feel like you could very easily exist in both worlds and be happy."

"How many purebloods have you me that pulled that off, hmm?" Andromeda retorted, crossing her arms. "I haven't met a single one, so if you could think of anyone that would be brilliant."

"You're not like the average pureblood though-." Ted began; aware this was probably the most complicated problem he'd had to help deal with.

"I'm aware of that! It's kind of the root of the problem here." Andromeda bit, rolling her eyes.

"Let me finish." Ted ordered catching Andromeda off guard. "You're not like other purebloods in a good way, if anyone could pull off this sort of coexisting it's you. You've been doing pretty well so far haven't you? I'm thinking you could manage."

Andromeda snorted.

"I think your lack of faith in yourself is appalling." Ted declared.

"I think your boundless faith for me is misplaced." Andromeda retorted.

"Mine is based on past examples, though. Yours is based on pessimistic expectations." Ted pointed out.

"It's all your fault you know." Andromeda said, seemingly from nowhere, sliding against the wall into a sitting position.

"I do. You love to point it out anytime you have a crisis." Ted replied, smiling, joining her on the floor.

"Why couldn't you just leave me alone?" She groaned, placing her head in her arms. "If you'd just left me alone then my life never would have spiraled out of control.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that bit." Ted apologized. "I hadn't meant for it to get to this."

"What exactly did you mean to happen?" Andromeda asked her knees.

Ted reflected on this for a few seconds.

"I haven't the slightest idea." He said finally laughing slightly.

"Then why couldn't you just let me alone?" Andromeda demanded again, slamming her head against the wall and letting out a disgruntled sigh.

"I don't know, I just couldn't." Ted answered with a shrug.

"That's not an answer." Andromeda pointed out, turning her head slightly to look at Ted.

"It's the best I've got." Ted replied. "Sorry I can't give a better one, I just couldn't."

"Not satisfactory. Please come up with a better explanation." Andromeda said.

They sat in silence for a bit, Andromeda expectantly and Ted without the slightest idea what to say.

"Well?" Andromeda prompted, eyebrow raised.

Ted remained stoic.

"Answer me Theodore." Andromeda demanded.

"I can't." He replied with a laugh. "I don't have a reason, I really don't. I couldn't leave you alone though, I tried, I really did, but then you started talking to me and then I just couldn't help it."

"Are you blaming me?" Andromeda asked baffled.

"Actually, yes I am. You're the one who started talking to me during rounds, I had all but given up by then." Ted mused, thinking back on it.

"Rubbish." Andromeda replied. "You just said you had 'given up' which clearly you had some sort of intent. Which means you still have to explain why you wouldn't leave me be in the first place."

"Not everyone has such a detailed explanation for every single thing that they do, Dromeda." Ted remarked with a roll of his eyes.

"I disagree." Andromeda said at once.

"Of course you do." Ted proclaimed, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't have expected anything else."

"Stop trying to distract me. You still owe me an explanation." Andromeda ordered, looking pointedly at him.

Ted looked her in the eye trying to express that he had no proper reason, nothing he could fathom into words, he hadn't thought about it much when he had done it, never evaluated every action he had committed, it had just sort of happened that way. He hadn't woken up one morning and decided to change Andromeda Black's mind about life itself, it had just happened, and he certainly couldn't explain any underlying motives he might have had to explain his ongoing resilience to achieve this outcome.

Andromeda did not seem to understand this though, the girl who carefully plotted everything she did, evaluated every move she made, she was certain there was a reason, there was always reason, and so she looked at him with questioning eyes expecting a well thought out explanation. Ted was not the sort to think things out, and he couldn't provide one, no matter how much he wished that he could.

It was for this purpose, this desire to answer Andromeda's question in a way she could understand, that he did something he had never planned on doing. Something he had certainly repressed on many occasions. He knew it was horrible timing, a bad idea even as he was enacting it, but it was the only proper answer that he would ever be able to supply, and it was only an adequate answer at best.

Andromeda made a noise, as if attempt to prompt him on as her impatience grew. Ted shook his head slightly, as if trying to express that there was no answer one last time, but Andromeda, predictably, did not accept this idea, and he was left with no choice.

Ted Tonks leaned forward the few inches between them and pressed his lips against Andromeda Black's. It was unreal, possibly a dream, impossible even, for muggleborn Ted Tonks to be kissing pureblood Andromeda Black sitting on the floor of the fourth floor corridor on January seventh, but the year was 1969 and it was the first of several impossible things that would happen that year. The kiss lasted only a second at best, two if one was generous, but it was one of those kisses that one could ever forget.

Andromeda pulled back, startled, and Ted, now separated from Andromeda's lips, felt an overwhelming feeling of remorse and pride. Andromeda stood up abruptly, partly confused and extremely flustered.

"I can't handle this right now." She declared, to her or Ted it was impossible to tell, before turning around and running off.

This time, at least, Ted did not follow Andromeda, unsure of what to say if he did and caught up with her, unsure if he even wanted to catch up with him. Instead, he groaned, slamming his head against the wall and wishing he could undo the last ten seconds, aware it might have been the biggest mistake of his life.

Andromeda, back in her dorm, collapsed onto her bed, fingers lightly touching her lips, a range of emotions flashing through her mind, predominately confusion. She had no idea of what to make of her life and the turn it had taken. She had no idea if she even wanted to begin to decipher the mixture of emotions that had sprung up, to wade through the confusion. She was right in her original assessment, she simply could not handle it right now.


I've gone back to the original title because I've decided I like it better. Sorry for any resulting confusion.