Ted Tonks

TED TONKS hp indie rp 21+ ~~~~~~~~~~~ a secret to happiness is letting every situation be what it is instead of what you think it should be, and then making the best of it.

[edwardtedtonks]

misselectrablack:

Electra’s breath misted before her eyes as she dithered on the doorstep. Her gloved hand was raised, poised to knock, held aloft as if by some invisible string, pulled taut and then - cut. 

Her fist dropped to her side. 

Almost immediately it sprang back up to twitch her coat into place, and to touch up her hair. It was starting to rain. She pursed her lips in distaste and, finally, after another moment’s thought, knocked hurriedly on the Tonks’s front door. Evidently she had decided that braving the awkwardness of the conversation that was to come would be preferable to braving the elements at this time of year. 

She gave one, two, smart raps with her knuckles and then stepped back, folding her hands in front of her and casting her eyes curiously about as she waited. She had never visited Andromeda here before. In fact, she had never so much as written to her cousin at this address. 

Footsteps echoed in the passageway, just out of sight, and her heart climbed into her mouth. Would she be welcome here? Or would her cousin turn her away, shun her like so many others had done since the end of the war? The footsteps sounded closer and closer, and it took all of the resolve that remained to her not to turn on her heel and run.

Doubtless she would be sent on her way soon enough, but still, she had to try.

With her skin prickling, and the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her that the whole street was deserted, but then she heard her name, “Electra?”, uttered in surprise. In a man’s voice. 

There was a rattle as the chain on the door was removed. The bump and scrape of furniture. She had merely been spied through the peephole, she gathered, but her pulse continued to race, to rush in her ears. 

And she felt positively faint to hear that actually, after all of this, Andromeda was out. Still, trying not to let on (though her face was an even whiter shade of pale than it usually was), Electra wrapped her own sense of composure about her like a mantle, and reached for a smile.

“I’m sorry … Andromeda isn’t here.”

“I see.” She spoke coolly, and without emotion, meeting his eyes with a haughty stare. “Well, do you mind if I come in anyway, and wait on her? I have to speak with her quite urgently, you see.” Without stopping to wait for Ted’s response, without pausing to consider just what her family (what was left of it, anyway) would think, if they saw her do it, she inched one foot over the threshold. 

The rain was falling more insistently now, and besides, “In the current climate, it is hardly wise to linger on doorsteps. I know they are saying that the war is over, but really, one can never be too careful these days, can one?”

The very fact that he’d opened the door at all was proof the war was over in Ted’s mind. Sure, he felt the aftershocks every now and then, but it was like the world was too broken, everyone too tired, to carry on with old hostilities. Electra had never been to their home before–if they’d spoken in the past, Ted could barely remember it–but he knew all Dromeda’s relatives by name and face. Initially, he’d hoped the information would help him prove himself to Dromeda’s parents. Then, it became a case of knowing thy enemy. Now that the war was done, with the Dark Lord dead and his servants in Azkaban or scared into silence, where did that leave them?

Broken.

Tired.

Ted raked fingers through his hair. “I have been waiting… years… for something like…“ The words stuck in his throat. Sirius was the first of the Black family to reach out, but it was all a farce. How cruel that the one relation to seek Andromeda out was the one to betray her the most, pretending to espouse the Order’s cause, then sending half the organisation to their graves. Perhaps it would be wiser to slam the door in Electra’s face and save this family from any further betrayal and grief.

“I’ll put the kettle on.” He stepped back from the door, his body no longer barring Electra from their home. Dora’s singing had been replaced by music from her turntable. Good. Ted wasn’t ready for such a family reunion. Not without Dromeda present. “And I’ll send an owl to Dromeda, let her know you’re here.”

It sounded like a kindness to Electra, but it was as much for his sake as hers. He’d never been safe in the company of Dromeda’s family. Why would Electra be any different? Dromeda was the better fighter, the stronger wix. If Electra posed a threat to him and Dora, Dromeda would know.

He returned to the kitchen, slowly releasing the breath he’d been holding. “Just um… have a seat. And apologies for the clutter.” As he cleared the table of paper and paints, socks and crumbling half-eaten digestive biscuits, his face grew hot. He was sorry about many things, but not the mess in this kitchen. It was a home; it was supposed to be lived in. All these years and he was still bracing himself for their scorn.

“Kettle.” He quickly filled it and set it on the stove. Then he jotted down a note on a scrap of paper and crossed the room to an open cage hanging from the ceiling in the corner by the window, in which their tawny was sleeping. Ted roused it with a stroke to its chest. When it was out the window, note to Drom fastened to its leg, Ted finally returned his attention to Electra.

“Are you in danger?” He leaned against the sink, folding his arms. “Enough doors have been closed in my face. I won’t turn you away, but if you’re in danger,” lowering his voice, “if you being here puts Dora in danger, I need to know.”

[edwardtedtonks]

@misselectrablack

Ted froze, hands sunk halfway up to the elbows in dish water. Someone had knocked and it wasn’t Dromeda. He knew her knock and this wasn’t it. He grabbed the tea-towel from its hook beneath the sink, and took easy steps into the hallway. 

Had there been a time when a knock at the door hadn’t triggered an underlying feeling of terror? Ted could barely remember. Too many threats had been made in the years since he and Dromeda had married. Too many people had died during the war because they hadn’t taken threats seriously. It was a dangerous thing to open your front door. Ted would not be one of those people. He would not see his family killed because he’d been fool enough to think prejudice ended with the war. 

He wiped his hands dry, then slung the towel over his shoulder, drawing his wand from his back pocket. His mind was racing. What if Drom’s hurt? The question danced front and centre in his mind. Upstairs, Dora was singing, unaware that someone had arrived on their doorstep uninvited. Childhood ended the day you realised your parents could no longer protect you.. Dora’s childhood wouldn’t end today. Ted placed one hand against the door, leaning in to peek through the peephole. 

“Electra?” His voice broke with surprise. And pain. It was painful to look at her, and if it was painful for Ted, he could only imagine what it was like for Drom.  The war had torn the Black family apart. But it was over, and here was Dromeda’s cousin on their doorstep. All Ted’s senses told him to turn her away. Sirius was the last Black to turn up on their doorstep and look where that had lead them? But there had to be hope. A chance to mend, rise from the ashes. Otherwise, what was it all for?

“Just a minute,“ he said, unlatching the chain on the door. But he paused before turning the knob; took a step back, pulling out the drawer of the vanity Drom had found at the car boot sale, with its row of hooks, now laden with hats and scarves and umbrellas. He closed his hand on the secrecy sensor--no lies, no deceit--slipping it into his pocket. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, swinging the door open. Sorry for Sirius. For Regulus. For everything. “Andromeda isn’t here.” It was difficult to trust the people who would rather lose Andromeda from their lives than accept she loved a muggleborn. But he wanted to, had to, for Dromeda’s sake and for Dora’s. 

[edwardtedtonks]

@lycorineisdeadlyifyoueatit

Ted knew it. He was lost. This place was a literal nightmare. He wrung his hands, not wanting to touch anything lest he get hexed or cursed or worse. Narcissa and Lucius’ home was old, after all. Ted had a hard time trusting people who fixated on the past instead of looking forward. This manor was probably filled with secrets, and who knew what else. It had been a year, eight months, and twenty days since Lucius Malfoy had saved the world from Voldemort. But some scars never faded, the events that caused them cutting too deep to ever heal. Ted still struggled to see the Malfoys as people he could trust. Maybe he always would.

“Dora?” His voice echoed through the corridor. He knew he shouldn’t have let Dora run off with Draco. I’ll fetch them, Ted had offered, wanting a reprieve from the conversation. But he was useless here in this labyrinth of a home.

He stopped in the middle of the corridor, running fingers through hair. Just breathe. The war was over. He could relax. But these people had made Dromeda’s life impossible once; had objected to their marriage for reasons Ted couldn’t reconcile with, no matter how much he wanted to. It only stood to reason that he was cautious. They’ve changed, Dromeda had said, and Ted understood it was vitally important to give people the space to make better choices. And yet...

No. No buts. He let out a heavy sigh, and glanced out the window. Third floor, and there--wasn’t that the topiary he had spied through the window from his seat around the table? He couldn’t find Dora and Draco, but honestly, was he really surprised? Dora was always wandering off, hiding in various nooks and crannies, and she always crawled out safe. Ted simply hadn’t counted on losing sight of her here.

“Pull yourself together, Ted,” he said under his breath. “You’ve been here before.” And left with his life. Bellatrix Lestrange was safely locked away in Azkaban. There was nothing to fear, save for a bit of awkwardness here and there; a sharp stab of anger at the sight of the elf wearing that grubby pillow case like clothes; the burn of the tea he drank too quickly, eager for something to do with his hands.  

He took the next stairwell, moving quickly. But when he reached the doorway through which he had initially come, he paused, running fingers through hair again and straightening his expression.

“Well,” he said, stepping through. “I’m defeated. Either Dora and Draco are masters at hide and seek, or this manor is designed to bewilder muggleborns.” But he was greeted with an almost-empty table. Glancing through the window overlooking the garden, he saw Dromeda and Lucius had moved outside where they looked to be musing over one of his albino peacocks. “The first one, obviously,” he added, instantly self-conscious to be alone with Narcissa. "Dora and her knack for mischief. I don’t know where she gets it from,” he deadpanned, eyes finding Dromeda again.

[lycorineisdeadlyifyoueatit]

[volucriswrites]

lycorineisdeadlyifyoueatit :

Harts Still Beating: A Canon-Divergent Potterverse AU

On October 3, 1981 Lord Voldemort went to Godric’s Hollow to murder the Potters and their infant son based on a prophecy that warned the boy might be destined to destroy him.

         He never made it there.

Instead, just a few blocks away from the Potters’ house in Godric’s Hollow, the Dark Lord was betrayed and destroyed by two of his own Death Eaters: Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. Thanks to the somewhat-unanticipated assistance of Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the two ex-Death Eaters were able to overcome the ambushed Voldemort with Malfoy casting the final Killing Curse that ended his war of terror and coincidentally established himself as the beloved blood-traitor hero of the Wizarding World.

Magical Britain has lived in peace since that day (or at least, since a few weeks after that day, when the last of Voldemort’s loyal Death Eaters were finally rounded up and shipped off to Azkaban to rot). But now, over a decade later, as the little boy who never had to face the Dark Lord from his crib enjoys his carefree adolescence at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rumors are beginning to spread: rumors that Lucius Malfoy’s final curse may not have been entirely fatal.

           Rumors that Voldemort might somehow rise again.                                                                        But surely they are only rumors?

General Verse Background Details:

This verse was was originally created by myself and @teaspoonofginger​ for a roleplay game and is open both to new interactions here with Narcissa and for you to make use of for interactions with other characters on your own blogs if you like (although credit is of course appreciated).

The Malfoys were convinced to turn on the Dark Lord by Severus Snape, who warned them that Voldemort planned to kill all of the magical children who had been born that summer as detailed in the Prophecy he had overheard – including those born to his own loyal servants, like Draco. Willing to do anything to protect their son, Lucius and Narcissa begged Snape to help and he “reluctantly” agreed to back Lucius in a coup to secretly assassinate Voldemort and install Lucius (a wealthy, charismatic pure-blood, unlike the sulky Snape) in his place. Things didn’t quite turn out that way…

Having never been exposed as the traitor, Peter Pettigrew remains friends with the other three Marauders and Lily – but he knows he’s living on borrowed time and his secret could come out at any point…especially if Voldemort really is coming back…

Narcissa and Lucius do not know that Severus lied to them about the Prophecy’s contents. Even if they do eventually find out the truth, the Dark Lord isn’t going to be interested in excuses and forgiveness – but it would likely sour their relationship with Severus, learning that they had been pawns instead of partners.

The populace of the Wizarding World believes Lucius Malfoy to be either a hero or a blood-traitor (or both) depending on their personal beliefs. No one outside the family other than Severus knows that he meant to take Voldemort’s place rather than destroying the Death Eaters. Now requiring protection from their old allies, for their own safety they have to maintain that illusion…but Narcissa’s opinion of impurity has never changed.

In order to help sell the veracity of their “reformation,” the Malfoys reached out to the Tonkses and Narcissa effected a reconciliation with her lost sister. She isn’t sure whether or not Andromeda buys it, but she allowed Narcissa and her family into her life anyway – and it is nice having one sister around under any pretext. Bellatrix, of course, is barricaded in Azkaban and is surely convinced that both her sisters are blood-traitors now which means if she ever gets out, Narcissa’s life is surely forfeit.

The Malfoys waited until Draco was seven before they told him the truth – old enough that he would be able to keep the secret, but still young enough to be able to shake-off the false indoctrination of blood-equality they had raised him with up to that point. He seemed to understand, and to be willing to continue to play along with the ruse by befriending muddy filth at Hogwarts – at least, Narcissa hopes he is only playing along, and doesn’t really consider those creatures friends…

Interaction Notes: I am interested in both Marauders Era and Trio Era interactions in this verse.

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

“Ah, yes.” Alphard rolled his eyes. “Let me just go and become his parents. That will work out marvelously. I’ll make sure he’s kept on the family tree by becoming my sister. How do you think of these perfect plans?”

Even if Alphard could become his sister, he had very little interest in it. “Beyond that, we both know that there is virtually no chance i would ever be granted custody of one or both of those boys. First,” He threw up one finger. “I am single. And drunk.” He would not always be drunk but he would remain single, “Two–… two…it should have been one but anyway,” A second finger. “His parents are still alive.” A third finger, “And Third I would be a terrible parent and that is why I will always be single.” A fourth, “Staying with me would be suggesting he linger about until another family member wanted a go.”

He huffed and brushed his fingers away. “As for separating Regulus and Sirius–you can’t expect taking choices away from a teenager is a good idea.” Although… it might be likening taking the choice away from a teenager to pay with a sharp knife… Still, Alphard had no recourse.

He tisked under his breath and slid from his stool, “I am hardly decent.” He decided. “I’m drunk and therefore can’t consent or be held accountable for whatever you think you might have heard.” He fumbled with his money, trying to suss out in his head how much it would be–when he was really quite bad at it. He tossed it onto the bar, a mess but over paying one. He might have grinned again, might have winked. “I’ll probably be drunk at dinner, too. My poor second nephew…or whatever he is. Dratted family tree.”

Now that was an exaggeration. Surely Alphard could still help the boys from a distance. He hadn’t been exiled like Andromeda, after all. His name on that family tapestry was intact, as far as Ted was aware.

“I’m not suggesting taking choices away,” Ted clarified. “I’m talking about giving him choices. The both of them.” It had always struck Ted as peculiar that a family of such wealth and power, two things which, when put together, should have given their children every opportunity in life, seemed intent on negating that with their lofty expectations and strict social rules. But it wasn’t worth pressing the matter further. Ted had already pushed his luck. And Alphard had made a good point besides. He was drunk.

Ted slid his untouched coffee away. It was clear Alphard was preparing to leave. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you leave this pub without asking. How are you travelling? Don’t tell me your disapparating. You’ll splinch yourself.” If Alphard hurt himself and Ted was the last person to see him, and in this state… Maybe it was too strong to say he’d never forgive himself. It would take a while though.

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

“Even if you weren’t.” Alphard decided–which was probably not entirely kind but that was his perspective. He felt he was right in his assessment. “All the same, I’m hardly turning up here to get you drunk and shipped off. Thats what i mean. What is in those movies.. femme fatals?”

Clearly not Alphard, in any case.

“Regulus is too young and too quiet for this sort of thing.” Alphard offered, somewhat chiding. But maybe Sirius was, too? That was possible. He rather liked Sirius more than Regulus if only because he was a little wild and challenging. “And I don’t know what is going to happen.” He was very firm in that–or as firm as one could be when their worlds were softened by drink. “Or when.” So maybe not useful at all. “But Walburga’s temper is going to snap.”

He had seen it enough first hand–it wasn’t a matter of if but when. “And when it does he’ll either fine yours or the Potter’s. Probably both.”

It would be better to land at the Potters, Alphard thought, if only because it’d likely have more space. “I think it’ll be soon.”

“Thank you, then. I think. I’m sorry, have I offended you?” Ted hadn’t suspected Alphard of playing femme fatale–until now. But that said everything about Ted and nothing about Alphard. The only person who could pull such a move on Ted was Andromeda, and her betraying him was a thought he would not entertain; it would hurt too much. But that was neither here nor there.

“You know Sirius is in trouble.” Ted frowned, eyes on Alphard. “What will you do for him? Or is this your way of helping him? And what about Regulus, too quiet and too young. He’ll be all alone in that house. You think separating them will be good for him?”

Ted had two siblings himself. Neither possessed magic. As a consequence, a chasm had formed between them. Their lives had diverged too much, and now they had too little in common. There was a lack of understanding between them, and often a lack of empathy. Maybe one day, when this conflict was resolved, they could find their way back to each other. For now, their relationship was superficial. And yet Ted was grateful to have any kind of relationship with them at all. He simply wished it was better for Andromeda’s sake.

“Mention Drom, will you? Remind him we’re here.” Andromeda might have done it herself already. Ted had stopped asking about the letters she sent to her estranged family. Some things didn’t need to be said, and some things were better shown in actions. Ted would kiss her ink-stained hands. But should any letters fail to reach Sirius, Ted had to know something or someone would.

“And Alphard…” His coffee arrived and Ted touched the handle, before changing his mind. He licked his lips, still processing this information. “Thank you. It’s very decent of you to tell me.”

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

“Well, you can.” Alphard pointed out, “But it wouldn’t make any difference, really. Because you’re not Bellatrix or Orion or any number of people. Lucky for me: no one I’d worry about would be caught dead here.”

He gestured to the barman, “If you want to order something for yourself you can. I’m not exactly bait in a trap for you.” Ted had not seemed to pay even an wick of attention to any of his comments. It was safe to say, in Alphard’s good opinion, that Ted was tragically exceptionally straight.

As a board.

Maybe even firmer.

He took the shot he purchased and grimaced again. It still tasted awful. “Andromeda should know her cousin may be seeing her soon.” He pushed the cup across the bar so that it almost fell. “Cousin. Not uncle.”

Bait in a trap? Did he mean… A nervous laugh broke from Ted’s lips. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m a married man, Alphard. Married to your cousin.” His sexuality was complicated besides, and not something he had discussed with many outside Andromeda and his closest friends. “And I only drink at funerals.” It was hard to turn down a drink when it was given to you to knock back in someone’s honour; when he needed something to burn through the moment and ground him in it all at once.

“Wait, did you say…” Ted’s embarrassment dissolved, forgotten. He turned in his seat to face Alphard fully, brushing his hair out of his face. This was news. Good news, but… Maybe. No. Christ, Ted felt for the boy. “Sirius or Regulus?” It should have been Andromeda hearing this. Ted barely looked at the glass, sliding it a safe distance away from the edge of the bar. “What’s going on? If you care for Andromeda, please tell me. Andromeda had a home to go to. She had family.” She had Ted. It wasn’t much, not enough really, but it was something. It was more than something; they had built a future worth holding on for. “Let Andromeda give her cousin the same.” What would it take to prompt a visit from one of her cousins? Maybe Ted needed a drink after all, but when he caught the barkeep’s attention he said, “Just another coffee please.”

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck: 

Alphard leaned in close, as though offering a secrete or a warning and then asked, “What, are you going to tattle on me?” He gave Ted a grin and a wink. “Edward, really, look around you.”

He settled back on his own stool and then, actually, looked around. “I don’t see any of my siblings, in laws, parents, or nephews by marriage.” He actually looked a little smug at that. “Because you’re not–not technically. Well, I guess still legally–but thats because Druella is sloppy.”

And Alphard didn’t mind. He didn’t remind her either.

He leaned across the bar and asked for–whatever it was I had last time, be a chap– and then settled back again. “Certainly my tongue is loose.” He offered. “But if it is–no one here is going mind.” Not in the way others minded, others who knew a bit too much.

Ted leaned in to meet Alphard, offering his ear for him to whisper into. It was a reflex, leftover from his time at Hogwarts when Ted had a short attention span and favoured whispering with friends over learning. Of course, Alphard wasn’t confiding in him now. He was… Ted didn’t even know. This was just how he was, he supposed; his manner of speech.

“I wouldn’t tattle on you.”

But there were people who would, and if Ted could run into him out of the blue, then others could just as easily. It really went without saying–who would Ted tattle on Alphard to? But it felt good to say it aloud none the less. It was like extending an olive branch, declaring he wasn’t a threat. Doubtless, Alphard had never perceived him as one, but Ted knew for a fact there were Blacks who did.

“I won’t tell anyone you visit muggle pubs, or that you prefer your family tree intact, even if it means inviting a muggleborn to one of your awkward dinners.” Except perhaps Andromeda. He told her everything. “Your secret is safe with me.” Not that it was much of a secret. Ted’s word carried no weight whatsoever to anyone who might care about such things. It meant something to Ted though. Maybe he’d drawn the wrong conclusion about Alphard, or maybe Alphard was different when he was drunk, but right now he was proof that muggle and magic could exist in the same space in harmony, even the purest and most obstinate of wizarding society.

Maybe he was simply speaking too soon. 

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

Alphard snorted, then started to laugh, it took him a moment to settle again. “You’re accusing my brother of approving of pretty things.” He shook his head, sniffing a moment and then shook his head again. “Certainly his daughters are all very pretty–but its not as though he went out to the shops to pick them out. No, really. They couldn’t be more pleased and couldn’t be less intent. You would never be pretty enough for them. But that has nothing to do with your face.”

If Ted had been pureblood he would have been fine, of course, but that had nothing to do with suitability beyond that. Even if he could barely handle a wand–it would have been embarrassing but enough.

“Don’t mistake me,” He took up his cup of coffee again. “I am as much stuck in my ways as they are–but you’re pretty enough and I like my tree intact. Intact and i could give you appreciative, yet perfectly cutting glances at the most uncomfortable dinners you can imagine.” He grinned, “You might have gotten off the easy way, really. You should ask Dromie about them sometime.”

Alphard was enjoying this–it was a good distraction when he let it be one.

Oh, Ted had heard about those. He had even geared himself up for one such dinner long ago, but Andromeda had discussed it with her parents in advance, and it had gone as abysmally as expected. He would have suffered it though, for her; and yet he was glad he didn’t have to, just as he was glad she didn’t have to either. From what he gathered, they were a stark contrast from the dinners eaten bundled up on the settee, or around the small table slotted into the galley kitchen, cramped with the hum of the refrigerator at his back, but made comfortable by the fact they shared it with each other.

“If you’re so stuck in your ways, why are you here?” The question was eating away at him. Truthfully, he didn’t expect an honest answer from Alphard, but so long as they were both here, so long as Alphard was talking and laughing, did Ted have anything to lose by asking? “If it’s anonymity you’re after, that clearly isn’t working out for you.” Ted gestured at himself, then took another sip from his coffee. He couldn’t let his suspicions show, not around Alphard Black, whom he suspected was still sharp despite being intoxicated. It was annoying really. Ted had come for that very reason and here was Alphard, screwing it all up. 

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

“Of course  I know who you are.” Alphard smiled this time, perfectly at ease to be saying, “Andromeda has always had a good eye for pretty things. Boys, too, of course, but generally. Unusual things. But they are often the prettiest.”

He meant this as a compliment, too, he figured. But it likely came out wrong and warped. Wasn’t that the way of their family though? Alphard thought so. Good intentions, all wrong. He stuffed a fifty pound note in the tip jar and then the rest went into his pockets.

“And why would I do that?” Alphard mused and took up the cup of coffee. “If anything you should say I won’t tell you anything.” He took a sip and winced–reaching for some sugar. “Because you are smart. Smart and pretty. Andromeda wouldn’t–she wouldn’t…” He lost the thought there for a moment and searched for it among the bottles behind the bar, then shook himself. “Anyway, I have no interest in having anything that can be pulled from me on whatever children exist, thank you.”

He gave Ted a rather shrewd look out of the corner of his eye, then ruined it by reaching over and patting him on the cheek. “Mugging. Muggles. Quaint.”

Ted’s heart quickened when Alphard raised his hand, and he flinched with each pat to his cheek. Alphard was right about one thing; Ted was smart, at least smart enough to know better than to trust someone like Alphard Black. He wasn’t a Death Eater, as far as Ted knew, but that didn’t make him innocent. “Funny,” he said faintly, though he didn’t see anything amusing in Alphard’s wordplay, not when muggleborns were being accused of using magic that wasn’t rightfully theirs.

“Thanks for the compliment, but I’m obviously not pretty enough, or Cygnus and Druella might have overlooked my blood status.” Not charismatic enough, not smart enough… Ted had been so young and foolish to think if he presented himself a certain way, if he said the right words, they might be tempted to let Andromeda have this one. But in the end, it was the blood in his veins they couldn’t get over. No, not even that; that was tosh. It was his history, his ancestry, and somehow that was much worse. “But I’m wrong, aren’t I? They’d never do anything of the sort. Not even for the love of their daughter.”

Ted fumbled with the mug a moment, before setting it down on the bar. Sitting here with Alphard, it was like drinking with his demons. He hadn’t been prepared for this. Had he known he would run into Alphard Black at this pub, he’d have walked right past it. But he hadn’t known, and now he was here, and all his fears were surfacing. Was there anything he could have done to get Andromeda’s parents to accept him? If he was lucky, the answer was no, then he could live believing it was a hopeless, futile effort to begin with; that there wasn’t a solution he’d simply failed to see.

[kellymvrietran]

Shazad Latif for Candid Magazine, photographed by Leigh Keily

[jakubs-deactivated20230324]

[insp]

[volucriswrites]

alphard-blxck:

“You know why,” Alphard decided, because everyone knew why one kept drinking something that tasted awful. In a pub. Magical or muggle–although this was probably the worst he had ever been in. “Because you are not a stupid man.” He meat it as a compliment, the clumsy earnestness of the drunk.

Oh he knew Ted Tonks. Edwards Tonks. That mudblood–mostly known the latter from Walburga, of course, and Druella. Of course, Alphard thought similar things but he also didn’t much care for the loss of a niece–particularly one that was relatively close in age. Drink could not erase that knowledge–at least not the amount he had had so far.

And it was for that reason that Alphard went into his pocket, took out nearly two hundred pounds in a variety of coins and bills, and shoved it not into Ted’s hands but onto the bar and in Ted’s direction. “Then be a dear and make sure this man gets paid. I’m fuck all figuring it out but there’s little point in being a stiff.”

Which almost sounded steady until he repeated the word stiff and started to giggle. “Merlin I hope never to know of your wedding night.” It probably sounded like a non sequitur but Alphard thought it was very much along with the plot. “I’m sure it was delightful–you’re delightful–” Perhaps not. “But she was so so so young.”

Alphard was not married and was unlikely to ever. He also thought that he was being very clear about the fact he had known Andromeda since she was little and some things were far too uncomfortable to imagine… he was not.

Well, shit. Alphard did recognise him after all. Ted didn’t know whether to feel relieved, or disappointed. Or afraid. No, not that. He was tired of feeling that way towards the people who had raised Andromeda; had loved her once, if not still. Life was too short to let fear control him. Disappointed then. Ted would have preferred to be mistaken for a stranger. He didn’t know want to be seen through their eyes. 

He sighed. Alphard had no business talking about their wedding night, and Ted could feel heat rising in his cheeks–he wasn’t drunk enough to have this conversation. It went without saying that what was supposed to be one of the happiest days in their lives was tinged with grief. They had dared to dream, but they had asked too much of Andromeda’s family, and of life itself. So young was right. Too young to be losing family. But all Ted could do was love and support Andromeda, whatever her choice. And she had chosen him. Was he supposed to feel guilty for that? For letting himself be part of her happiness?

“You know who I am then. Good to know. You could ask about the well-being of your niece. Instead, you bring up our wedding night?” Was nothing sacred in this family? Apparently not. He supposed this was a demonstration of Alphard’s concern, but it was meaningless so long as he wasn’t present in her life. Sure, she received a letter from someone every once in a while, but they were too little too late in Ted’s opinion. Like trying to fix a leaky pipe with a plaster. And this was all assuming they deserved to be in Andromeda’s life, that she wasn’t better off without them. That particular thought was one Ted would never give voice to, but he had his opinions. No one who caused Andromeda a measure of misery had any right to demand even a minute of her time.

“I’d rather you didn’t.“ The barkeep set his coffee in front of him, a second in front of Alphard, and Ted said a quick cheers, then took a sip. “That’s a bit intimate, don’t you think? And for Christ’s sake, put this away.” He slid the money back towards Alphard, taking only a few pounds which he dropped in the tip jar. “You’re too drunk to be throwing money around, unless you’re looking to get mugged.” He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone had glimpsed the notes, which of course they had. There was something about drunk people and their lack of filters that attracted onlookers, like they’d never seen honesty before.  Wasn’t always pretty, was it? 

[edwardtedtonks]

edwardtedtonks :

alphard-blxck :

@edwardtedtonks 🍺

“Oh, honey, this is awful.” Alphard laughed and slapped the small glass onto the bar. The whole place was awful, really. So terribly muggle and so terribly–terribly…something.

Awful that was the word he was looking for. Still, he leaned across the bar, a smarm of a smile on his face as he bartered with the barkeep.

(Barter. That was something muggles still did, wasn’t it? And some wizards but not him not Alphard and certainly not any Black)

“If you give me a proper glass this time I’ll give you a proper tip.” Alphard was convinced that a couple of those small ones–nasty tasting things but working well enough if he thought about it (but he didn’t)–were nothing compared to a proper goblin ale or spiced wine. He was used to flutes of dragon’s blood champagne not this…this…

He got caught for a moment, staring down at the wood grain, the whorls and scuffs. What did muggles use to keep it so shiny? (and that made him think for a moment, for a second, of the wet, wet blood on the grass that night–it didn’t shine but looked like dark smudges. This wood was red if he looked at it right.)

Alphard popped his bottom lip through his teeth (nasty habit, that), “A Pence or what ever the fuck it is, right?”

It was normal to be embarrassed by your in-laws, wasn’t it? Ted wouldn’t know. Since graduating, he’d yet to spend more than a few moments with one of Andromeda’s relatives, and after what they’d put her through, it was no loss for him, that much Ted could say with confidence. But it was a loss for Andromeda, and for any children the future might gift them, and for that reason alone the sight of Alphard Black getting so brazenly drunk and at this hour… it pissed Ted right off. 

But that anger fizzled away, leaving only sadness in its ashes, just as it always did. With a Muslim mother and a Christian father, Ted had already seen first-hand what a marriage of different ideologies cost a family because of others’ ignorance; seen how society would turn something joyous and beautiful into their business, something to be judged. It was disgusting and it was hurtful, and Ted thought he was past this. Standing a few feet away from Alphard, it was clear he was wrong; he wasn’t past it at all. 

“If it’s so awful, why drink it at all?” And why here? Surely there was a pub in the area that stocked elf-made wine or some other wizarding concoction that Ted never had all that much interest in trying. In fact, Ted knew there was, only two streets away. Why a muggle pub of all places? It wouldn’t bother Ted if the Black family hadn’t devoted themselves to keeping people like Ted separate. “If you want to drink here again, I’d recommend tipping more than a pence or two. Try pounds, a couple of them, or you’ll be drinking more than you paid for.”

Ted had worked in a pub only once in his life and he wasn’t in any rush to repeat the experience, what with all the shit people threw at you as they drank away their problems. It had its moments of course. Ted helped where he could–mostly people merely needed a stranger to talk to–but the barkeeper was looking less sympathetic, more harassed, and two more ungrateful comments away from spitting in Alphard’s next drink.

“I’ll have another coffee,“ he said to the barkeep as they reached his end of the bar, collecting glasses. “Should I make that two?” he asked Alphard. Ted didn’t expect a Black to accept kindness from a stranger, let alone one he would assume to be a muggle, but he had to try. Coffee wouldn’t sober him up, but it would give him a break from the alcohol. And the day Ted stopped extending that kindness to the people who were so adamant to be his enemy was the day they won. Ted wouldn’t have that.