Rabastan Lestrange should have been an international Quidditch player. Or a rock star. Or an actor. Normally, someone who wasn't any of these things, would never have so many girls dream of them. As it was, when Rabastan deigned to attend a party, in his leather trousers or skinny jeans, many girls' hearts missed a beat. It wasn't just that he was handsome or that he was charming or eloquent, though he was all those things. He was bad. Forbidden. Dangerous. What girl does not think she can tame the wild beast? Those who had been lured into his trap came out broken. Changed. Damaged. Andromeda knew all this, but thinking about him raised her heart rate and brought a tinge of pink to her cheeks. She had been doing very well not thinking about him, but then Titus had brought him up, and once in your head, it was very hard to evict him. As it was, Titus was right. It would practically be incest. Her older sister was engaged to his brother. And she knew that he was bad news. But she could not help but wonder, if maybe, just maybe, she could be the one to capture his attention forever, not just for one night.
At breakfast the same owl appeared again, with a piece of parchment that read 'You are by far the loveliest woman I know.' Once again, she looked around to see if anyone was watching her, but to no avail. She frowned and was about to put it in her bag, when Titus snatched it out of her hand.
"Don't you have anyone else to bother Greengrass?" she snapped.
"No." He laughed as he read the note. "Who sent you this?"
"I don't know," she admitted reluctantly.
"Oh, a secret admirer," Titus cooed. "How…quaint."
"What's quaint?" Lucius Malfoy, a fellow seventh year Slytherin sat down and reached for the toast.
"Andromeda has a secret admirer," Titus grinned, waggling his eyebrows at the scowling Miss Black.
"That is quaint," Lucius said, "Quaint and cowardly."
"How is it cowardly?" Narcissa asked, coming into the conversation for the first time. "Surely it is romantic."
"If you like a girl, then tell her," Lucius said savagely. "Being too scared to say is a mark of weakness." He paused. "Are you sure it's not a Hufflepuff?"
"Ha ha." Andromeda laughed sarcastically. "Why would a Hufflepuff send me a note of admiration?"
"I'm not entirely sure why anyone would send you a love letter," Titus teased. "Unless…No, it can't be."
"What?" The word was clipped, as Andromeda took the note back, hiding it in her bag.
"Lestrange," Titus breathed. "I was joking yesterday, but what if you're actually- Look, you're blushing!"
"As if it would be Lestrange," Andromeda retorted. "As if I would want it to be."
"But he's so handsome," Narcissa interjected. "Why would you not want it to be him?"
Lucius and Titus exchanged significant glances, as Andromeda flushed. "He's going to be our brother in law. It would be-" She searched around for the right word, and when none appeared she went with "icky."
Titus sniggered and she hit him in the shoulder. "Why? Why would you hit me again?" he protested. "That's like seventeen times already and we've only been back two days."
"Keep laughing at me and I'll make it an even twenty," she threatened. "As for the note, it's probably some fourth year's idea of a joke, and if any of you-" She looked around at Lucius, Titus and her sister. "Even hint that it's Lestrange again, I will hurt you in so many ways."
Lucius smirked. "I think the lady doth protest too much."
She narrowed her eyes. "Try me Malfoy. Go on, try me. I dare you."
She could see Titus shaking his head vigorously by the side of her, and she watched as Malfoy weighed up whether his jokes were worth his reputation. He obviously liked his reputation more and, consequently didn't speak to her during the rest of breakfast, turning his attention instead to her sister.
"You should hex her." It was Anna's suggestion as Ted flicked through his transfiguration textbook without much enthusiasm.
"Or curse her." The dark haired boy from the lake stretched. "There's always crucio."
"Yeah, Tom. And there's always Azkaban," Ted replied, throwing his heavy textbook onto the table.
"Not if you're sneaky," Tom replied with a shrug.
"Ted's not known for his sneakiness." Ruth walked up behind them, collapsing into an empty chair. "What're we talking about?"
"How Ted should repay Andromeda Black for what she said about his mom," Anna answered happily. "We were thinking maybe a hex."
"Oh yeah," Ruth said eagerly. "There's this really good one that-"
"Guys." Ted laughed. "I've already paid her back, it's just that my hex hit Jenny. It's done with."
Tom sniffed. "You're too forgiving. That's your problem." He yawned, leaning back in his chair. "Far too forgiving."
"Yeah, because what this world needs is more hate," Ted muttered, glancing at his watch. "Shouldn't you be at Dark Arts?"
Tom shook his head, his eyes closing. "No. That's Wednesdays."
"Today is Wednesday," Anna said slowly. In Tom's panic, he managed to topple off the chair he'd been loafing in, and the girls and Ted burst into peals of laughter.
The detention was to be served in the trophy room and they were to clean all the trophies without magic. As a precaution, Apollyon Pringle had confiscated their wands, warning them that he would know if they used nonverbal magic. Andromeda did not doubt it and did not want to test it. Pringle was far too fond of corporal punishment for her liking, and she shuddered to think what he would do to them if they did use magic.
She glared in distaste at the bucket of cleaning materials that sat on the floor. "This is house elf work." She folded her arms and sniffed.
"Cheer up Black," Ted said, as he pulled out one of the many bottles and dusters. "We could have been put in thumbscrews. This is way easier."
She sniffed again. "Well if you've been brought up to clean."
He threw a duster at her, laughing when she gasped as it hit her full in the face. "The less you complain, the faster it'll get done."
She scowled, angrily reaching for cleaning fluid. "I can multitask. I can complain and work."
"Are you sure?" he asked with a smile, opening the first cabinet. "Because there's a lot of complaining going on, but no work."
She sighed loudly, before crossing to another cabinet. They worked in silence until he asked, "So what classes are you taking?"
"Is it any of your business?" she snapped, refusing to turn around, focussing instead on the trophy in front of her. "We have detention together; it does not mean that I have to talk to you."
"But you just did," he said in a bemused voice. She knew, just knew, without even looking that he was smiling again. It was as if all he did was smile.
"Tonks," she growled. "We are not friends. If I had my wand, you would be watching your back."
"Nope." There was a clunk as he dropped a trophy. "I'm trusting," he stated. "My mom says it's my best trait."
"Oh. Your muggle mother." She rolled her eyes and she turned around, her expression dark. "What else did your darling mother teach you? She certainly didn't teach you how to treat your superiors."
"You're not my superior. If anything I'm yours, because I'm pretty sure my birthday's before you." There was that blasted warm smile again.
"You are a mudblood. You grew up surrounded by dirt, and somehow it gave you airs and graces above your station," she spat, her hand automatically going to her pocket where her wand usually resided. "You are nothing, and if it weren't for Transfiguration I never would have spoken to you." She looked at him disdainfully. "I do not waste my time with filth."
He moved so fast she would swear it was trick, and he pinned her against the wall. "Firstly," he growled. "My parents are not dirt, and if you don't want to be hurt, you should stop calling them that." She struggled against him, but he was broad, powerful, and she was thin and graceful. She did not stand a chance. "Secondly, we have Transfiguration together, and thanks to my friends hating McGonnagall and your friends hating Transfiguration, we sit next to each other. Any time we have to work in pairs, any time we have to discuss something, we'll have to get along. I think we should be able to at least be civil." She glared at him, and continued to struggle. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you agree?" Only when she was convinced there was no way to overpower him did she nod.
He released her and smiled faintly. "Truce?" He held out his hand, and she looked at it as disdainfully as she had in Transfiguration. But then she realised the truth of his words and grudgingly accepted it.
"Yes. Truce." The words were clipped and she only held his hand for the briefest moment, but he still smiled at her.
"Great."
Andromeda looked around her with a look of disgust on her face. "You can tell Pringle I refuse to clean." She was almost out of the door when she added, "I'd rather take the thumbscrews."
Ted laughed. He'd always known that the Slytherin's had kinks, but he'd never expected one of them to admit out loud.