November, 1959

Rain poured heavily upon London, drowning the night-dwellers of the city with frigid droplets. Andromeda Black, a formerly proper, pureblood witch, was luckily not among the many souls freezing in the downpour, though she would be drenched soon.

Neither was Ted Tonks, the Muggleborn wizard who had given Andromeda a taste of freedom, but it was time to return to her cage. He could stay in his cozy, shabby world and give another woman a wonderful life, the kind of life Andromeda didn't know she wanted until she tried it out for herself.

She was nestled in Ted's bed, after having spent the last few hours doing some truly sinful things with him. When they were together like this, it was as if she was being worshiped; his lips would reverently skim across her sensitive flesh, her name became a prayer on his tongue, and his eyes were always in awe, beholding the feminine vision she was proud to reflect. No one had ever made her feel so beautiful, wanted, or adored.

This night would be the last time she'd feel him against her body; how she was going to explain it to him was eating away at her soul.

"'Dromeda," Ted murmured, his breath tickling the back of her neck, "will you swing by tomorrow?"

It was as good an opening as Andromeda was going to get.

"No."

"No?" Ted asked, the playful edge to his voice already breaking Andromeda's heart. "Should I show you why, if you come see me, you won't regret a minute of your time?"

Andromeda's breath hitched. She couldn't do this with his warm, naked body flush against hers, stroking her skin lovingly, pressing the softest kisses to her shoulder blade.

"Could we discuss this over tea, Ted?"

The temperature in the flat plummeted.

"Of—of course," Ted stammered. He got out of bed and summoned his bathrobe, haphazardly wrapping it around his body. He shuffled out of the bedroom and began puttering about with his dented kettle.

Andromeda sat up and began redressing herself. She took her time, pausing every few seconds to let her gaze linger on a part of Ted's room: his stack of unread medical journals, a pile of broken quills he insisted on fixing himself, his Muggle suit jacket, which made his broad shoulders look even more enticing, and several Freddo wrappers that hadn't made their way into his rusty wastebasket.

It was a far cry from everything she'd grown up with, and everything that her future inevitably held. If Ted were like her, a house elf would've taken care of the rubbish at once, but he wasn't like her, and he was all the better for it. She would have gladly mastered any household charm necessary to have a life with him.

The kettle whistled just as Andromeda finished tucking in the last strands of her hair in a neat chignon. She lifted the quilt on Ted's bed to her nose and inhaled deeply, hoping she his scent would be branded into her memory. Determined to make it a clean break, she stepped into the tiny kitchen, where Ted was waiting with two steaming cups of tea.

"A pinch of sugar and a splash of milk," he said, offering her a cup, with a smile on his face that didn't meet his eyes.

"Thank you."

Andromeda took a seat in one of his mismatched chairs and took a sip. It was divine, just as good as the posh loose leaf blends she grew up with, but at a fraction of the price, and given to her by a man who made her feel alive. The thick, pounding rain and howling gusts made the windows rattle.

"Darling, what is it?"

Ted's gentle concern made Andromeda want to give in, to take the greatest risk of her life, but she couldn't risk his life as well. Her father made it perfectly clear that if she continued her illicit affair, Ted would be nothing but a pile of bone fragments, to be stuck together and sold as a trinket at Borgin and Burke's.

Pollux Black had the Minister of Magic in his pocket and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at his disposal and Ted wouldn't stand a chance.

"After tonight," said Andromeda, feeling her chin quiver, "it's over between us. I can't see you anymore."

"Pardon me?"

"Ted, please. You knew this couldn't last."

"But—"

"I'm getting married tomorrow." Andromeda felt a tear fall down her cheek. "I can't—I can't run away from this."

"Married?" Ted's voice cracked. "To whom?"

"It doesn't m-m-matter." More tears streamed down her face. Her throat felt like it was swelling; she had to remain in control. Standing abruptly, she half-sobbed, "I've got to go."

She didn't wait for Ted to acknowledge her exit. She was out of her seat, thundering down the stairs, and walking out to the street below by the time she realized Ted was calling her name.

"ANDROMEDA BLACK! STOP!"

The icy rain soaked into every inch of Andromeda's body. Her hair fell away, sticking to the sides of her face and neck, and she crossed her arms, aching for warmth.

"Don't do this," begged Ted, taking her face in his hands. "Please, 'Dromeda, we can find a way."

"We can't!" Andromeda cried, letting him go. "I c-can't see you anymore! Don't you see? We could never be together! Never!"

"You—you said you loved me—"

"I didn't—I don't! "

Ted's face contorted into an expression Andromeda had seen only once before, the day he learned his father died.

"You don't mean that," he said, straining. "You don't—"

"Goodbye, Tonks," Andromeda said coldly. "I never want to see you again."

The last image of Ted Tonks, the one that would haunt her for the next eleven years at least, was of him, with his shoulders hunched, his beautiful face twisted in agony, and her own reflection staring back at her, with nothing but hate in her heart.