Paradise Lost

When he had first signed up to be a part of the Order, Ted was willing to put his life on the line. He knew that he could — and most likely would — die out in the battlefield, and he was happy to go that way. But now; now he wanted more. “I know how to take care of myself, ‘Dromeda. I’ve made it all these years, haven’t I? I’ve been in plenty of situations where I could’ve died and I’m still here. I don’t need you to worry about me, I need you to worry about yourself.” It was selfish, wanting a happy ending for himself and wanting her to be there with him, and all he wanted to do was ignore the fact that he would be the first one to go. What he hadn’t realized, though, was how anxious she seemed with each word he spoke.

He came closer, hesitant, like he didn't want to press any of her buttons. Ted wasn't the enemy, no, he was always there for her. Andromeda took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I know." Of all the things to remain constant in her life, Ted Tonks was one of them. No matter how many times she pushed him away, or he'd tell her they couldn't see each other, they always came back full circle. She really expected the Dark Mark to be the final straw. The moment she'd shown up on his doorstep, Andromeda was sure it would be the last time they talked. But, instead of slamming the door in her face, Ted actually invited her inside and tried to help with the pain from the burn. Same was said for graduation. About an hour before they took off, she'd gotten a howler from her mother saying how she couldn't be bothered to attend the event. Andie had gone to find Ted, she needed a distraction... they'd almost missed the ceremony. The morning after the mansion, she'd met with Sirius. Identical words came out of his lips: you kept him. She was in too deep. This was a mistake.

"Christ, Andie, I lo —"

There would be no mercy, and there was a part of Valerie that was thrilled by the thought. Where blood failed her, cruelty ruled and though she’d never admit to it, her own ruthlessness was an escape from the isolation from her family and from a society she’d been working her way into. It was an excuse to release all the anger and rage she had at the world, the bits that she kept concealed under the mask of a Bulstrode daughter.

This was not the day she was going to get caught. Not the day where she was going to be stopped and searched... not with the letters still in her pockets. Little details here and there about the Ministry, all written by the Dark Lord himself. If the aurors got their hands on it, they she would definitely end up on the chopping block. She was willing to kill these three men in order to stay in the clear. "Let's move." Andromeda carelessly brushed back her hair, with her fingers firmly wrapped around her wand. This was not going to be the night she died, or was captured. Not a chance in hell. With one of the big blokes hunkering down the aisle, she brushed past him, pulling Valerie along with her. The door was only a few feet away when the auror's voice called out.

"Now what are two witches like yourself doing out so close to curfew?"

What we? Her words cut through like knives to his heart. She couldn’t help him, and he didn’t want her to help him. That wasn’t what he was asking her, and he was sure that she knew. Protecting the people he loved was something he took on as his own job, and Andromeda happened to be one of those people he wanted to protect. She could laugh in his face about anything else if she wanted,  This, though? This was a matter of life and death, and the choices they made now could — and would — affect them forever. What we. There was no we. There was no them, and Ted knew that. It didn’t have to be them, though. She didn’t have to keep entertaining whatever this was, as long as she made the right choices and did the right things for herself. If he had to let her go, he would, but only under those circumstances.

Ted constantly came through, seeing if she was alright, how she was doing. He had to know that someone like Andromeda didn't respond well to that. In fact, she didn't know how to respond at all. To lean on somebody like a human crutch? Lessons from her childhood made that whole concept look weak, and Andromeda was not weak. Andie's eyes dropped from his to the ground, feeling the tension in her body grow. "You're a muggleborn, and on top of that, an Order member." The target on his back was glowing bright red. Too many Death Eaters wanted him dead. It was hitting her nerves that he was too preoccupied with her to keep an eye out for himself. "The two of us are queuing in line for the guillotine Ted, but you're farther ahead than I am." She didn't have to go far to hear the death threats against that 'mudblood Tonks'. Bellatrix or Narcissa would kill him on the spot if they ever had the pleasure of running into him. She stayed quiet when she he talked about the Minister's party. That night had only solidified the fear the Dark Lord induced. A look of doubt cast on her face, but she didn't let one word leave her lips.

If even Andromeda was saying that Voldemort would attack again, and soon, Ted had no doubt in his mind that it really would. There was not much he could do about it by himself but to prepare for whatever might be coming their way next, “Sirius is…He’ll be fine. We all know how strong he is. I didn’t do much, I just went by to make sure he was actually keeping himself alive.” And that really was how he felt about it. There wasn’t a whole lot he could do — it was Sirius’ own battle, after all. It was easy to tell that Andromeda was worried about a certain auror, as she kept looking back, so Ted placed a small hand on her back to lead her away from that particular area to a quieter one, even though there really were guards every step of their way.

There it was again: we... our. Andromeda hadn't made the decision to join the Order, she was still bearing the dark mark on her arm. Whatever Ted was thinking, it certainly wasn't the case. Andromeda stopped, a mild look of confusion crossing her features. "We? Ted, what we?" She raised an eyebrow, taking a step back. As far as she was concerned, her name was synonymous with the opposition. She attended Voldemort's meetings, she was willing to kill for their cause like usual. Yes, the talk with Ted was resurfacing questions about her loyalties, but she didn't bring herself to make a choice. She couldn't do that. Not yet, at least. The words spilled out of Ted's lips, only making her more anxious. Her fingers tightened around the pouch, knuckles white. "I can't help you..."

She set down the quill she’d been looking at before using her wand to gather up the other scattered ones, floating them back to their original positions, more or less. “Bloody annoying.” The checks (which she’d managed to avoid somehow) and the watchful eyes bothered her. It was overbearing and she knew that if they spotted the two of them, a Bulstrode and a Black together, even just talking as they were, it would look suspicious. She suspected most of the other Death Eaters found the new laws annoying, and those implementing them even more so.

She couldn't disagree with Valerie. The new laws weren't so much as an inconvenience as they were annoying. People were paranoid left and right, even those who had nothing to hide. If Linton was attempting instill fear amongst the masses, he'd missed the mark. Witches and wizards would begin to resent him, and it would only further the Death Eater's cause. Lately, everything had been quiet. Neither sides made any significant moves, waiting for the Ministry to either fuck up. The more silence there was, the more an attack would be unexpected. Something was bound to happen. "Doubt it." She said, eyes looking from Valerie back to the aurors. Three men, tall and as burly as they came, spread out across the aisles. Even with them acting inconspicuous, it was obvious they were out of place.

Valerie was aware the curfew was in nearly half an hour but she wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet. Recently, for some unknown reason, she’d found Diagon Alley an escape of sorts, at least the less popular shops. She supposed it was due to the fact that she didn’t have to talk to people as much as she would have to at home and, really, Valerie had always been quieter if given the choice. So she wandered from shop to shop, not making any significant purchases, just enough to give her some purpose.

So what an ironic coincidence it was to run into her here in Diagon Alley, casual like nothing much had changed. It was half a relief to see her face again, allowing Ted the reassurance that she was at least alive, and apparently safe. “Andie, oh.” He blinked, after he walked up closer to her, “Here. I think this is supposed to be yours.” Carefully, he dropped the pouch into her hand, though he made sure to look around and make sure no one was watching them. At least with the new laws in place. Ted could assume things would be relatively safe, at least in such a public space like Diagon Alley. Surely even Voldemort wouldn’t be so bold to launch on attack on the new Minister, right after he’d killed the old one? But he could never be too careful. No one could be, anymore.

There was a small twinge of relief in seeing him. They hadn't spoken since her apartment, and so much had happened. Andromeda was partially trying to avoid him, though life was proving a good enough distraction for that. The Blacks were a hot mess, Bellatrix was following her, Sirius was taking Orion's death terribly, both of her parents were grief stricken. On top of that, that Daisy girl told her she'd seen Andie helping Ted at the mansion. It was all a bit much.The last time she'd properly fallen asleep was when they'd been together. Dark circles, messily kept attire; it was starting to show in her appearance. Ted talking broke her out of her head. She'd be a liar if she said she wasn't happy to see him, but Andie's mood lately was more cynical than usual. She nodded, "What are the odds?"

His point was only proven when someone bumped into him, and passed right by without saying another word. Ted was almost annoyed, until he noticed that the person had dropped something on the street. Quickly, he walked over and picked it up, immediately somewhat curious what was inside. It was heavier than it seemed, but it didn’t seem like it was holding any coins. Call it paranoia, but he was momentarily concerned that this would have something to do with dark magic. And if it did, he would be ready to take action. 

People normally stayed out of her way. It was just something she'd grown used to. Diagon was no different than Hogwarts, no one wanted to cross her. Especially now, with the whole wizarding community knowing about the Black's loss. Wounded Blacks reacted like dangerous animals, unpredictable in their actions. Venomous tongues cut through skin, and in the heat of the moment, they caused a boat load of damage. Andromeda shrugged into her coat, willing her greys to pay attention to the paper. As much as she hated her mother, Andie could learn a lot from one of her letters. How Cissa was doing, if Bellatrix was still going off the deep end- she'd promised to try and coax the environment between her family, but Andromeda was never good at that. From what she'd seen, both with her visit and through the mirror, everyone was wearing the same dark circles and angry expressions.

“Its a little off putting to be out of the office,” he agreed. “You imagination is spot on. The entire staff is running around like chickens.” Of course, there were safety nets set in place, little buffers that would keep the ministry from falling apart when travesty struck. And naturally, three men were already ready to campaign to be Minister; their speeches already written before Weymouth’s body hit the ground.

It wasn’t soothing, knowing that each new candidate was building their campaigns off of how they would end the war; how they would sniff out the Death Eaters in the ministry, namely himself. “Now more than ever. I’ll probably be nursing a pot of coffee until the new Minister is decided.” A pot of coffee, and little to no sleep. But that was the life he’d signed up for. 

The corners of her lips pulled up into a grin. There was nothing she loved more than an unnecessary chaotic scene. Politics was the perfect place to find it. Through his validation, she knew the Ministry was hit harder by the death than they were letting on. Scrambling about to find a new minister was a messy ordeal. "I have to say, it's impressive to see the candidates so... ready to campaign." There had to be someone, like her, who thought the event to be a little more than convenient. She was curious to see which minister-in-waiting was going to be on there side. If the election was actually rigged in their favor. Although they all promised to eradicate Voldemort once elected, you could never actually trust a politician. They were talented liars.

"If it's ever decided..." Andie nodded, grey eyes studying Pius. " Now if your luck is terrible enough, all three could 'mysteriously' drop dead before the ballots are counted." There was a teasing edge to her voice, but who really knew? Voldemort wasn't one to explain his choices to the Death Eaters, the mansion was proof of that. He could be plotting another attack and they wouldn't find out until the moment of.

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For a moment, Bellatrix had felt guilty for following her sister. Weren’t they supposed to be making peace? Weren’t they supposed to be growing close again? Maybe so, but it had always been a one way street, only Bellatrix had tried to stay civil.

Civil, of course, meaning being over protective and smothering her younger sisters, holding them so tightly ever since Sirius left that both Andie and Cissa avoided her like the plague. Surely, it had been a bad idea to even follow Andie at all, but Bellatrix was desperate to see her again, only to be so disappointed with the outcome.

"Most families make an effort to see each other. Or send an owl to let you know they’re alive. Whatever."

From the other end of the alleyway, a burst of light appeared from the tip of a wand. Someone was coming.

There were so many worse things she was itching the say, all of them threatening to escape her lips. And she would've done so if it her promise to Cissa didn't exist. Instead, her fingers wrapped tightly around her wand... just in case one of the minster's puppets was to appear.

She should've sent word. She really should've thought it all through. Everything had its consequences, which was something Andromeda was unfortunately finding out. Taking care of Ted, and him doing the same for her took more time than expected. She should've written a note. Still, it wasn't like she could tell Bellatrix the truth without being burned alive. "I broke my wrist- writing a letter would've only been problematic."

As much as she wanted to bicker with Bellatrix, the sudden light caught her attention. Andromeda reached out, her hand wrapping around Bella's forearm. "Well don't just stand there, move-" She hissed.

She pushed herself off the trunk of the tree and was about to make her way back to her house when she noticed some large figures on the outskirts of the forest.  “Shit,” she muttered quietly as she ducked behind a bush.  Was it already 10? She thought to herself.  She couldn’t risk making it past the men, no matter who they may be so she hurried back into the forest and made her way towards Diagon Alley.  It was a long roundabout way back to her house, and if she had gotten caught it would look more suspicious emerging from the forest to Diagon Alley rather than her town; but she ignored her gut and made her way anyways. 

When she emerged into Diagon, she noticed that she had a clear haul down the stony road to make her way back towards her house.  It would take 20 minutes to get there from here, but if she ran in the shadows she had a better chance of making it without getting caught.  Emmeline looked up and noticed someone nearing her.  Of course I know it’s ten, the real question is do you know that it’s ten? She thought.  Responding to a stranger in Diagon wasn’t the smartest idea though, so she just muttered a quick “yes, I’m getting right home.  I lost track of time,” and tried to brush her way past the girl. She looked so familiar, Emmeline’s curiosity slowed her.  Don’t talk to her, Don’t do it.  You don’t know who she is, just keep walking Em, She thought but her mouth opened before her mind could shut her up.  “I’m sorry, do I know you?”  She blurted.  Shit.  Good luck getting home tonight dumbass.

"Everyone knows me." It wasn't meant to be smug, simply the truth. Anyone with magical blood was well aware of who the Blacks were, and Andromeda had a reputation for causing mischief. The introduction was cut short, however, when she heard a crack. Someone appeared across the street, a broad figure. No doubt the Minister would cast a spell to prevent apparition, so that anyone stuck in Diagon would be caught. Smart, inconvenient but smart. Andromeda's hand shot out, grabbing the girl and pulling her away from the light. She wasn't someone who looked out for others, Andromeda always saved her own skin. Still, this stranger could be useful to place the blame on... or at least keep her close so she didn't rat on Andie.

With her wand slipping into her hand, Andromeda's words came out quiet, on the defensive. "Unless you want to get caught, try to stay hidden, yeah?" She backed away. Her eyes looked over to the main street; the Minister's man didn't seem to notice the scuffle. It was going to be a long night. On the other evenings she'd been stuck post curfew, aurors scattered about, plentiful in numbers. And she hadn't taken on any dead weight. Glancing at the girl, she smirked. "As for 'knowing me', I'm Andromeda... Black." Her voice lingered on the last word