Andromeda Tonks

// 22 // Referee at the The British Wizard Duelling Association // Columnist at The Daily Prophet // Slytherin Alumna // Puddlemere United Fan

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Tempestas Ignis II Aaron & Andromeda

The dementor invasion had left Andromeda in a fit of anger very few people knew she was capable of. When she heard of it, she did the only thing she could think of… short of going out and hunting down those responsible for the lack of response. Andy put a quill to parchment and felt her fiery anger flow through her easily. The result was a strongly worded op-ed piece that walked the fine line between free speech and treason.

She hadn’t put her name on it; Ed had allowed it to be published anyway. The response from the public hadn’t been the rally Andromeda had hoped for, but she supposed something was better than nothing. For every positive response, there were at least three condemning her. Now, a week later after the publishing the article, the public response was starting to die down. On this night she sat her desk, shifting through the final letters from members of the wizarding community.  Across the room, the clock on the wall told her it was 23.00. 

Finally, when her head dipped forward with sleep for the third time in the last 10 minutes, Andromeda decided to call it a night. Had she been heading home, it would have been an early evening. But as things stood, Andromeda prepared to make her way to the Association for a late night referee shift. The rest of the Prophet was quiet as she walked towards the exit. Across the floor, only a few owl faced employees were left taping away at their typewriters. With the front door locked for the night, Andy proceeded to back employee exit that snaked out into the alleyway behind the building. The night air hit her hard as she pushed out into it. Summer or not, it was still fucking cold when the sun went down. She turned the collar of her coat against the chilly night air and used her wand to light the otherwise pitch black. The moon was merciless and provided minimal moonlight. The dark had never bothered Andromeda but now, as she made her way through the alleyway, she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that tonight she should be. She felt the figure before she saw them. It began with that unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. It then spread so that slow, creeping sensation of being watched took hold of her. Sure enough, there, in the shadows - blink and you’d miss it – was a tall figure. Face obscured by a mask and body entrenched in a cloak. If the grim reaper decided to show up in Andromeda’ life, she supposed its entrance would be none too different.

Andromeda was a fighter. So if her heart was in her throat, her body didn't show it. Her hand was firm on her wand.   

“It’s a little late to be out and about isn’t it?” Whose voice was that? Oh fuck – that was her own. The words had jumped from her lips with a strength she didn’t know she had. Andromeda should have just kept walking without saying anything, but she supposed she wanted them to know that she was very aware of their presence. It was something her body did without the consent of her brain more often than not; it liked to face its nightmares head on. And what was in front of her was nothing short of the boogeyman.

(@aaronflint)

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Believe in Me // Andy & Helena

As a child Helena lived her in her fairytales. Even at a young age, Helena needed to escape from her reality. She would dream of someone coming to rescue her, and taking her far away from her family. As she grew older, she realized no one was coming to take her away from her life. Octavia was the closest thing to a savior she had. Evan was always the golden child, the one that was going to uphold the Rosier family pride. Octavia was the first victim of their mother’s abuse. Every now and then she would get a slap for mouthiness, or for something of the sort. There were the hanging comments of criticism, comments that were ever flowing. 

Octavia protected her for as long as she could, but being fourteen years older than her, meant that she did not live with them for most of Helena’s life. The older she became, the harsher her mother got with her. Helena never tried to fit the bill, she was always stubborn, and silently rebellious. Her mother always had something negative to say to her, ‘Helena don’t eat that, you won’t fit in your dress’, ‘You’re not even trying to make friends with them’, ‘Why can’t you understand the importance of being a pureblood’; the list was never ending. Of course that wasn’t the worse of it, the more she rebelled, the angrier her mother became, the more forceful she became. 

Eventually, Octavia became the savior that she needed. She would spend weeks at a time with her older sister, slowly but surely escaping her suffocating mother. When Helena made the decision to leave her family, Octavia stood behind her completely, even if it meant her living with a different family member. But Octavia wasn’t there anymore, no matter how much Helena still needed her. She left her without an explanation, without a goodbye. Not that she could have given one anyways. Helena had pushed the death out of her mind. With all the chaos happening at school, she couldn’t attempt to deal with the loss. Instead, she coped in a different way. 

Sitting at the kitchen table, Helena smiled at Andy as she walked into the room. “Morning Andy,” she greeted happily, “There’s eggs on the stove.” Helena enjoyed cooking, and she knew it wasn’t something Andy particularly cared for, so she generally took the initiative to make one of the meals during the day. “If it’s alright, I’m going to go to Diagon Alley today,” she asked. 

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Andy was an early riser. Her heavily scheduled childhood meant early mornings. When they first started sleeping in the same bed, both Andy and Ted had hated the mornings. Andy would toss and turn restlessly the second the sun rose and it would drive Ted, the one who liked to sleep in as long as humanly possible, insane. Since then, they had found a middle ground. Sometimes though, when the dawn broke, Andy would still find herself awake and staring at the ceiling with a sleeping Ted next to her. In those moments, she would slip off the study, settle down with a parchment and quill, and work on the her next assignment till the rest of the house woke up. This particular Saturday was no different. Andy sat down in the study chair, put her head down, and got to work on her next article. It wasn’t until the smell of a wholesome breakfast hit her nose and her stomach grumbled that she finally looked up. She followed her nose to the kitchen and, sure enough, Helena sat at the table, breakfast behind her. The sight of the girl brought a small smile to Andromeda’s face. It was nice to have Helena back in the house again, even though the circumstances leading to it were anything but desirable. News of Octavia’s death had brought a moment of intense grief for the two of them, but that storm was finally passing. Or at least, Andy hoped. Andy groaned with content at the mention of prepared edible food. “Helena, Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” She padded over to the stove to grab herself some eggs. “No really, by keeping me from cooking a meal you are definitely saving lives.”  After a brief pause in which Andy debated whether or not she trusted herself and her cooking abilities, she went about preparing some toast to go with the eggs. She continued the conversation as she carefully handled the bread. “Of course! Diagon Alley sounds fun. Are you meeting someone there?” From early on Andromeda had decided that she would never stand the way of Helena’s choices, no matter how small the choice. It was Andy’s way making sure that Helena didn’t have the same upbringing that she did. Or, at least, not in the realm Andy was concerned.

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Sirius gave a small smile at the child, slowly reaching out and taking her into his arms. “Yummy, my favorite, did you know I was coming over?” He blinked a few times as the pounding in his head increased and carefully he put Dora back on the ground. “Let’s go eat.” 

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Andy watched as Sirius take her daughter from her arms. His movements were sluggish and it look like his equilibrium was thrown off. If she had an inkling earlier, she was certain of it now: the boy was showing signs of a hangover. She sighed, walked over the cupboard and pulled out a potion. She returned shortly. 

“Drink this.” She gave him no option, just took a hold of his chin and tipped the potion back into this mouth. 

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“Food, that’s a good idea, I think that’ll help.” Sirius was mildly confused about whether he was slightly drunk or very hungover, he didn’t remember doing any drinking, so he was leaning towards the latter. “Is it toast?” 

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“You’re about 1/3rd right.” She scooped up her daughter that excitedly waived at Sirius. “Why don’t you tell Sirius what you’ve cooked up for us Nymphadora?”  

The toddler exclaimed without hesitation: “Peanut butter jelly sandwiches!” 

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Sirius looked around, frowning and clearly confused. “Oh no, I thought this was James’ house, this is not good, I’m going to sit down.” 

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Andy watched her confused cousin with mild amusement. She sighed.“You might as well come sit down at the dinner table. Don’t worry. I didn’t make dinner. Dora did.”