swallow the stars

Andromeda Black | mother to Nymphadora

[andromxdae-blog]

Date: February 19 Location: Hogsmeade Partner: @fabianprwtt

Andromeda had never enjoyed shopping. Not the way her sisters and mother did, at least--she’d been the one sulking in the back, making snide comments to Bellatrix about so-and-so’s garish frock and looking for any opportunity to escape the Druella-mandated fittings for every set of robes they ordered. The Blacks had not yet embraced ready-to-wear culture; not when their family could still afford custom-fitted regalia. But those were her teenage days, and Andromeda had learned to extract satisfaction from browsing the shelves--usually for things more useful than a new brooch.

Nymphadora liked shopping, though. Likely because it allowed her time outside of Hogwarts’ restrictive walls. Childcare wasn’t exactly built into the school’s benefits package. Little Dora spent her days finding stimulation where she could get it, and Andromeda was wracked with anxiety more often than not when she saw her daughter--who was used to days in the open air, plenty of room to run and places to explore, children in the towns to befriend--sitting quietly in her office, knees bouncing as she tried to control her impulse to fidget. So Andromeda took frequent trips to Hogsmeade, stocking up on supplies for her classes and running errands she sometimes invented that day.

Her daughter gaping at owls, Andromeda posted the letters she’d penned recently--she was wary of the school owls these days, and still lacked the extra funds to purchase a private one--and consulted her list to see what was next.

“Ready for lunch, Nymphadora?”

[camilleprevker]

[jaspenor]

[vegasdarcy]

Girls like her were born in a storm. Lightning in their souls, thunder in their hearts and chaos in their bones.

[liveasheroes]

(insp.)

[collector-of-thoughts]

[the-write-ideas]

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character

They’ll have to:

Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question.

Answer that question.

[andromxdae-blog]

tovjovrspur:

February 13, 1979 9:30 am Festival Grounds @andromxdae

Narcissa let out a startled yelp as an unruly adolescent barreled past her, causing her to lose her balance and stumble to one side. The rare good mood that she had found herself in quickly faded as she paled, nauseous for what had to be at least the fourth time today. She gripped the first sturdy thing she came to – a fence running the circumference of one of the rides – and concentrated on fighting the urge to empty whatever meager contents were left in her stomach after her episode earlier this morning. 

As her nausea subsided into anger, Cissa stood up straighter, glancing around to make sure no one important had witnessed her momentary weakness. Her eyes fell on the source of her distress as he was herded back into a group of Hogwarts students by none other than her special snowflake of a prodigal sister. Narcissa pressed her lips together and walked towards her, not really wanting to engage now (or ever, really), but too irritated to leave without saying anything. “Don’t you have any measure of control over these…” she curled her lip, disdainfully eyeing the pack of students who were swarming around the face-painting stall, “…prepubescent miscreants?”

Once upon a time, little Cissy had been the gentlest of the Black girls. Hellions that they were, Bellatrix and Andromeda had never been called demure or kind; they were dark and sharp where Narcissa was light and smooth. As different in color as in personality, Andromeda had imagined her little sister growing up to be glamorous and as close to kind as a Black could be. Narcissa would be the daughter their parents would be proudest of.

Some time in her absence, Narcissa’s jawline had sharpened and her throat coated with frost. Andromeda had run out of justifications for the icy woman who had replaced her sister--Lucius’ death, the change in regime, Bellatrix’s disappearance, her own betrayal--loss had made little Cissy bitter, but it went beyond that. Narcissa enjoyed bringing people down: snapping at them until they cowered at her feet. Andromeda had yet to reconcile the woman who looked like her sister with the woman Mrs. Malfoy had become, so she avoided her whenever possible.

Certainly, encountering the imperious blonde in the crowd of the festival was not ideal. Andromeda was herding children again--the Hogwarts students that, for some reason, the Ministry had decided would assist with running this farce of an event. As far as she was concerned, it disrupted classes and turned the professors into chaperones, and Andromeda was not pleased as she ordered teenagers into their places.

She counted heads, snapping her fingers in irritation at the one wandering off toward the back of the group. He rushed back toward the group, knocking into a familiar-looking blonde Andromeda did not immediately notice. Not until the woman started to lean over, as if ill, and she jumped to the assumption that the boy had hurt her--but the woman straightened up, and Andromeda forgot her again as she read off names and directed her charges to set up the booth.

She could have done without recognizing Narcissa before she approached, because it set her on edge before her sister even opened her mouth. She never knew what to expect from Narcissa anymore--sometimes she was aggressive and hostile, other times a faux-friendly syrupy placating. Everything she did was bound to be some sort of trap, and Andromeda was briefly grateful Dora was not beside her (she was being experimented upon by the designated face-painters, visible but not in earshot).

"Good morning,” she answered, channeling all the polite pureblood learning she’d tried to forger after leaving school. “I apologize for Iain--I hope he did not injure you. They are teenagers, and they do outnumber me. Even the finest students from the best families are bound to be rambunctious when placed in charge of a festival.” Merlin forbid any of them hear Narcissa’s insults and tell their perfect pureblood parents that Mrs. Malfoy was rude to them.

[andromxdae-blog]

anecdotalprewett:

Something about that little girl just made Molly’s heart soar. When her hair shifted to the same tone as Molly’s, her smile flickered ever so slightly. Her heart went out to Andromeda, it really did. Having a child that was different, especially in times like this, was difficult regardless of what your surname was. Her smile widened, warmth growing behind her eyes as the little girl spoke, nodding enthusiastically. “The pink one, hm? Excellent choice.” 

Molly glanced back at the mother when she spoke, focus turning to her now instead. “What a lucky girl - and what a great opportunity to bring her to.” It was strange, the hint of jealousy that Molly felt as she spoke. Andromeda had something that she wanted - a daughter, blood of her own to hold and protect. As much as she liked to think that teaching gave her that opportunity, it wasn’t the same. And her brothers - well, there was one too far past protecting, and another who would tell her not to worry. But times like this, it was hard not to worry. 

“Everyone behaving themselves so far, Andromeda? I swear, I’ve been handing out detentions as if they’re candy.”

She thought she heard wistfulness in Molly’s tone as she answered, but Molly was practiced enough to hide it in her next response. Dora was satiated with her ice cream and ate it with careful determination, looking calm enough for Andromeda to relax her eagle eyes. Molly’s encouragement made her feel oddly warm--her family had never been the encouraging type, and what was left of them now were even less friendly now. She couldn’t remember any Black ever complimenting her maternal actions.

But Molly was a professor, so it made sense that she had skill at small talk and making others feel comfortable around her. Andromeda was constantly on edge; Molly would have picked up on that, at least, by now. And the festival was keeping her nerves strung high. “Three threatened, but none given out,” she answered. “I’m saving them for the worst offenses. As long as we can get through the day without any of the animals escaping...”

[andromxdae-blog]

restrainedxlliance:

Arthur found it rather surprising how much color there was. With the past year being rather gloomy and depressing, it was a fresh change to see these bright colors. It was like he has in his childhood again with the paint his mother would use to paint his wooden toys to make them more appealing. A slight smile appeared on his lips, watching the smiles on people’s faces at the rides and the food. Oh, the food. Even though Arthur already ate breakfast before he came, he couldn’t help but find the sight of ice cream appealing. Might as well get something childish and delicious to keep his mind away from work and life for a few minutes. 

Upon arrival at the stand, Arthur looked at everyone who was waiting for ice cream. Little children, young adults, maybe the more older adults like himself. He didn’t know if he was out of place or if he just felt like he was being awkward and nobody noticed. He stood in line behind a mother and her child, admiring how enthusiastic she was. So full of life, he remembered such times. It wasn’t that he wanted to flirt but the woman was pretty from the occasional side glances she would give to her little one. So Arthur just had to talk.

“I think she is a napoleon type of gal but that is just my observations.” He suggested, leaning in slightly so the woman could hear him. 

A few people were giving the gaggle of children crowding around the ice cream stand fond looks, and it made Andromeda more nervous than she had right to be. She hadn’t spent much time in crowds like this since leaving London with Ted. There was an anxious smog hanging around everyone, as cheerful as they looked. This festival wasn’t fooling anyone.

She’d spent the morning herding her students, trying not to snap at them when they cracked jokes or tried to sneak off; ensuring they didn’t let the petting zoo animals go into the crowd had taken most of her energy for the day, and it was still early in the morning. Luckily for her, Dora was a fairly well-behaved child, though spirited. Andromeda obliged her the treat as the man behind them in line spoke to her.

Automatically, she smiled, looking up at him from her half-kneeling position as she handed the ice cream to her daughter. He looked vaguely familiar, in the way most purebloods did--someone whose face she likely knew from a decade ago, or perhaps a similar-looking relative who visage was known to her subconscious. He looked, mostly importantly, harmless and congenial. “What is a napoleon?” Slightly embarrassed, she had to admit she didn’t know the term offhand.

[legendsinspo]

it’s a holly volly jolly holiday and it’s live like legends secret santa 2k16:

@rossiignol gives to @andromxdae

If Legends were a Netflix show: Andromeda Black

[legendsinspo]

it’s a holly volly jolly holiday and it’s live like legends secret santa 2k16:

@rossiignol gives to @andromxdae

If Legends were a Netflix show: Andromeda Black

[legendsinspo]

it’s a holly volly jolly holiday and it’s live like legends secret santa 2k16:

@rossiignol gives to @andromxdae

A Softer Legend: Andromeda Black

[legendsinspo]

it’s a holly volly jolly holiday and it’s live like legends secret santa 2k16:

@transfigurare​ gives to @andromxdae and @heaven-sent-hellion

[andromxdae-blog]

itsy-bitsy-wolfie:

As of late, Remus sort of hated every single aspect of his life. But most of all, he hated being sober - using alcohol to navigate through his days made things a little easier, maybe just the fact he had no perspective or nothing to look forward to. Being a doormat to anyone and everyone had started to feel old but he was alive and wasn’t starving, mostly, he couldn’t complain. The whole festival shtick was sort of draining him a bit more than his regular life would and by a ‘bit more’ it meant he couldn’t really keep himself all that sober during no moment. At any given moment Fenrir would push him around, someone would make a snide remark, give him the nasty look, anything that reminded Remus every waking moment he was a monster and he wasn’t supposed to belong. 

He was begrudgingly helping with another tent - Trelawney’s, actually, for a few moments and trying not to get sick with the overtly sweet scent of her incenses when only a few meters down he spotted Andromeda with Nymphadora in toll. He couldn’t be spotted around Hogwarts any time Andy needed his help, he couldn’t be caught acting like they were friends but at least he could always pretend to be nothing more than an employee to someone who was a friend, or at least the closest thing to a friend he could have nowadays. Ditching Sybil’s tent, Remus slid aside, not quite sober but not as drunk as he had managed to be the day before and Nymphadora immediately left her mother’s hand as she dug into her robes to head his way. 

He bent down to pick the girl up in his arms - not a lot of reasons to smile as of late but for the kid, he would. “Hey lass, don’t go stray from your ‘ma.” He couldn’t help picking her up as her hair changed into bright pink and Remus tapped the little girl’s shoulder to warn her, carrying the child back to Andromeda. He gave her an amused look over his glasses. “Why hello Lady Black, needing help with this critter?” He sounded as polite as possible, there was no one really close enough and paying attention to him acting so friendly near Andromeda. 

Andromeda had few friends and fewer allies. Everyone who had respect for blood purity was wary of her, and everyone who had disdain for the supremacists had disgust for her. Nobody respectable wanted to be associated with someone so thoroughly blemished with the faint mark of blood traitor; furthermore, in her determination to win the trust of those “respectable,” Andromeda had alienated anyone who may have agreed with her teenage rebellion all those years ago. Nymphadora fitting in meant that her mother, for the time being, certainly could not.

When it came to babysitters, then, she had few options. Slughorn would have been pleased to watch Nymphadora from time to time, and Molly had expressed mild interest, but Andromeda was wary of leaving her four-year-old with anyone who might attempt to coax information about her past from the girl. Nymphadora was trained not to speak of her father, but a few sweets or new toys might loosen her tongue or she might, as children do, forget herself when her mother was not around. And Andromeda was going insane constantly watching her daughter while trying to teach classes.

Remus became her saving grace, albeit a secretive one. Andromeda had been friendly with her cousin and his friends for as long as she could remember--Remus and Sirius had once come to visit her and Ted shortly after Nymphadora’s birth--and, thankfully, Remus had not forgotten that relationship after she came groveling back to her family. They never discussed their choices regarding the sides they chose; they had an unspoken agreement not to address survival instinct. But Remus knew how to get in an out of the castle without detection, and he was gentle and good with Dora, so the arrangement they had of exchanging childcare for money, food and an occasional bed was enough to keep Andromeda from jumping off Ravenclaw Tower in desperation.

Nymphadora spotted him while Andromeda had her head turned away, and a moment of panic stopped her heart when she looked back up and her daughter was gone. A yell started to rise in her throat, but the sight of Dora’s pink hair in Remus’ arms quelled that instinct. Some of the anxiety remained--associating with a werewolf and halfblood was bad for her reputation, but as long as she treated him as an employee in public she would be safe, she hoped. Andromeda was out of practice when it came to being haughty and imperious--her sister had managed to overtake her in her absence--but she attempted to fit one of those looks on her face now as she retrieved her daughter from Remus.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding still genuine despite her aloof expression. “She hasn’t had much time out of the castle lately.”

“I saw pixies,” Nymphadora informed Remus, wiggling until Andromeda set her down. “Blue ones.”

[andromxdae-blog]

anecdotalprewett:

The students had been entirely out of hand ever since the announcement of the festival. Molly had spent most of the morning trying to herd them into cohesive groups, but it was just as difficult as herding cats. She’d finally managed to get everyone in their assigned postings for the day - after telling Horace that he had to keep a close eye on the boys around the pixie enclosure. She didn’t trust the adolescents any more than she did the mischievous pixies. 

Now it was just a matter of making rounds, and keeping everyone both happy and in their place. It was, needless to say, a difficult and delicate affair. She rounded the corner, a short way away from the Carousel, eyes searching for any possible wrong-doing by a student - but instead, she found only ice cream and a colleague.

Despite what rumors and whispers there were about the middle Black daughter, Molly had always found that she quite liked Andromeda. The fact that they were now colleagues made the relationship all the more enjoyable - especially when little Nymphadora was around. Say she was strict with her students, say she could be a little bit overbearing at times, but she had a fondness for children. Though her mother may badger her constantly about when she was going to get married and start a family (and Molly wasn’t even considering that route at the moment), there was always a twinge of something when Molly saw Nymphadora and Andromeda together.

Approaching the pair, Molly smiled down at the young girl first asking, “Mum’s going to get you a treat, hm Dora?” Fondness was thick in her voice, before glancing up at Andromeda. “The little one enjoying herself more than the rest of us, Drom?”

If Andromeda trusted anyone, Molly Prewett would be on her list of those she trusted. Like Andromeda, Molly had been a black sheep in her family, Sorted into Gryffindor to set the precedent for Sirius years later. Her life’s trajectory had not been that of the typical pureblood daughter even after school; most aimless children took their parents’ money or found a rich spouse and avoided working jobs more difficult than planning parties. Molly had acquired her job through real means, and not by simply being wealthy and pure. Andromeda respected her, even if she didn’t yet trust her.

Dora was grinning at Molly, her hair shifting red in response to visual stimulation--Molly’s hair was distinct, and Nymphadora was fond of distinct. “The pink one,” she told them both, pointing to the ice cream as well as she could from her height. Andromeda obliged, handing over coins while giving Molly a smile she hoped looked friendly. “This is her first festival--that she can remember, at least.” She could vaguely recall stopping by a few local festivals in her travels with Ted, but her years as Mrs. Tonks were not ones she ever mentioned to people in her life now. She handed the strawberry ice cream cone to her daughter, who stared at it with awe for a few seconds before starting to lick it.

[jamesvaldez]

They started this epic, earth-shattering love affair, quietly, secretly, quite scandalous, but it didn’t matter to them. And they would write the most romantic, aching love letters and hide them in a hollowed-out book, this book.