#ted: 04

[ofandromedas-blog]

— 25th of june. 11:30 pm. the leaky bucket. @atted

It’s been a day. 

Sacred 28 gatherings are always an affair, and funeral processions are no exception; this is hardly Andromeda’s first run around the block, and yet she still finds herself winded once she finally extracts herself from the Black estate. Exchanging niceties about her dead cousin, tension crackling between and only visible to the Black sisters, the stupid House of Black dress her mother had guilted her into donning: it all leaves Andromeda queasy. And if that doesn’t do it, the notification on her phone that Albus Dumbledore has been pinned as Regulus’ murderer does. 

Andromeda feels herself slipping through her own grasp with every passing hour, and it irks her to feel so vastly out-of-control of her own circumstances. The last thing she wants to do (for once) is drown at home alone. Busy hands, she thinks, couldn’t even distract her from the her  cousin’s death and the resulting ripple effect. And more than usual, the company of the other Sacred 28 members seems to suck her dry of any residual sympathy. Regulus Black is dead, but his legacy - and the press, the funds it’ll garner - matter the most. 

Lily Evans’ invite to The Leaky Bucket after the wake manages to stick, and Andromeda finds herself appearing at the threshold of the pub late in the evening, primarily with a mission to set eyes on her living cousin. Sirius, she thinks, serves as a reminder that their genetic pool is not entirely incapable of full human emotion but also hope that survival after severing ties is possible. At any rate, Andromeda is one of few people who could understand how Sirius could be feeling. Checking on him is the least she could do. 

The warmth of the Leaky Bucket envelops her the moment she steps inside. It’s distracting just for a moment, and Andromeda hesitates, feeling both out-of-place but also like she could stand there for at least an hour, just listening to orchestra of laughter and clinking glass. Then, her goal manages to creep its way back in. Grounded with a newfound sense of purpose separate from her own flimsy stability she weaves through the milling crowd to the bar, eyes searching for Marlene’s familiar shaggy hair bobbing behind the countertop. What Andromeda finds instead actually seems to clear the breath straight from her lungs, surprise settling in and threatening to upheave her. In the wake of their last conversation, Ted is one of the very last people Andromeda wants to see tonight. Face-to-face with the journalist whose easy smile shifts with her appearance, she’s at a loss for words before she manages to scrounge something up. “Hey. I’m, uh, looking for Sirius. Have you seen him around?”

[andromedablackism-blog]

dust to dust ➤ oct. 1978

The moments following the meeting between the Blacks and the Rowles passed in a dizzying blur. Even with things having been hammered out somewhat cordially with Thorfinn himself, it had done nothing to alleviate Andromeda’s burning frustration with her mother intervening so thoroughly in her affairs. Arguments between mother and daughter had grown common long ago. But that argument - Druella with her arms folded in detached exasperation, Andromeda’s wrath channeled through sharp, icy words after they had disapparated back to the Black mansion - had ended differently from all the rest: “We are doing this because it’s what’s best, Andromeda. Because we love you.” If the statement itself hadn’t been enough to bring her anger to a screeching halt, the embrace that followed had left her shocked into stillness. Arms circled around her shoulders, delicate silver bracelets cool against the back of her neck, her nostrils filled with the scent of her mother’s musky perfume - somehow, that had been enough to quiet the restless, pacing beast.

The attention left her dazed for than anything else. She was nearly ashamed of how she drunk up the affection like she had been suffering in a drought all these years, only now getting her first sip of water she’d forgotten the taste of. The well wishes began to trickle in instantly as Druella sent word, owls tapping on the glass every now and again with a new sheaf of parchment delicately bound to their feet. It was foolish for Andromeda to be caught off-guard by an announcement being published in the papers so soon, really, considering how eager her mother had been to tell anyone who’d listen that her middle daughter had finally secured a proper match. If circumstances were different, the fact that her mother only chose to brag of her now would have made her bitter. 

All the same, the article in the paper caught her by surprise. Seeing her name in black print alongside her morning coffee was jarring. And it was then that the thought of Ted ran through her mind, a jolt of horrifying realization that he would have to find out this way. Suddenly, it seemed incredibly important to reach him (even if he probably couldn’t have cared that much, she reminded herself). The intense urge had propelled her through her morning routine quicker than usual, enough so to be out the door nearly an hour before her usual work shift would begin. Enough so to delude herself into thinking showing up at the highly-public Ministry, of all places, was a good idea. 

It all worked out better than she could have hoped. With her bag slung over her shoulder, Andromeda had just been clicking across the busy atrium when she caught a glimpse of familiarly tousled blonde hair towering over the rest. Edging past a woman chattering on to what appeared to be a goblin, she weaved her way across the polished dark wood to touch Ted’s arm. “Hi. Sorry - did i scare you? I didn’t mean to,” she greeted. “And this saves me the trouble of having to find your office.” It was then that it occurred to her just how public they were, how absolutely absurd of an idea it was to show up like this - perhaps even more assaulting than it was to show up on his doorstep, honestly. Her cheeks warmed. Perhaps he had already read it, and this was all even more ridiculous than it already seemed. “I - er - well...I’d wanted to talk to you about something quick before I went into work, too. But if now isn’t a good time...”

@abouttonks​