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He wasn’t quite sure how she did it - managing to put him both on edge and at ease all at once. Ted had always wanted to be liked, and with his easy-going nature it had never been difficult, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to impress. To wow her. And while she didn’t give any indication that he was succeeding beyond a coy grin, the way she had accepted his crazy plan gave him hope that maybe one day he would. That he could earn her true affection and whatever secrets lie behind that smile, and it would all mean so much more because it wasn’t handed out easily. 

Special. That was the word that came to mind. Something told him Andromeda was special, and that made him feel special, too… 

If he were the romantic, sappy type (and he was), he’d think of her offered arm as a symbolic gesture - a final chance to take or reject everything that she represented. Gideon’s words of warning echoed in his head for only a moment before he looped his arm in hers deciding, once and for all, that he would put his faith in her. 

“Hold on tight,” he said. And then he felt the familiar tug at his navel, a little bit like the swooping sensation you get when jumping off a cliff. 

There wasn’t an analytical approach to all of her life, but Romie’d be lying if she didn’t say she was quite prepared for the future and whatever it brought. There’d been talk of an arranged engagement possibly, she’d finish out her studies here, and that was that. She followed the predicted course too closely sometimes, burning herself and going too hard when she colored outside of the lines. Here she stood with Ted -- thus proving that again and again as they arrived somewhere unfamiliar and more muggle than anywhere she’d been alone, that was for certain.

“You were right about the autumn.” It was beautiful and the air held a crispness she hadn’t been prepared for, much like him. She was now dealing him into her deck of cards, adjusting plans of the future to fit him in. It both scared and intrigued her how easily it’d been. How simple would it be to deal him in further and further? How long until he was half of the 52 deck? Because when it did come time to crossing the line, she crossed it.

Andromeda had known there was no going back the second they’d arrived, the second they parted themselves from the rest of the world and were just two people.

He hoped he didn’t look too obviously relieved by the fact that she’d decided to show - his shoulders relaxing the tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, an easy, goofy grin spreading across his cheeks. He’d been pushing the thought away every time it came up, but now that she was here, he finally admitted to himself that he wanted this to be a first date - and that thought alone was enough to make his stomach go all fluttery. 

“You look- beautiful,” he said, the words out before he could stop them. Not that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t like he’d ever denied that fact, but he’d also never had the courage to say it out loud. The tips of his ears turned red in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. “I mean. That’s… I researched some spells for that,” he chuckled awkwardly, not even trying to couch the subject change. “Heat bubbles, mostly. We’ll have to be sly about it, with muggles around, but hopefully, there won’t be too many of them. The park should be beautiful, though,” The heat crept to his cheeks as he used that word again. “All the changing leaves. It’s always my favorite time of year.” 

Beautiful had become dreaded. It’s what Druella insisted she presented herself as at family gatherings and it’s what boys so easily relied on to slip into her heart and other places. But the way he deflected as easily as Romie was ready to, she realized it was absolutely... genuine. As a quiet thank you, she offered an arm for apparition and brushed face framing tresses behind her ear, studded with a unique, feather ring.

“You saved my arse, you. I forgot my damned earmuffs.” She couldn’t lie that the mention of muggles had her heart beating to a brand new nervous tune. One, Andromeda wasn’t too used to being cautious. There was chaos, there was Andy, and theeeeen a few meters lower, caution. And two -- how likely was it anybody knew what they were up to? She wasn’t about to turn to mood sour by asking who he’d told. Not yet, anyway. While her thoughts clouded with worry, her tone was teasing, “Shall we get to the awaiting leaves? You’ve painted quite the picture.”

@romieblack​

A part of him worried that she wouldn’t show. That all their talk had just been drunken fantasies, or worse - that Gid was right and she was having him on for a laugh. He couldn’t believe she could possibly be capable of anything more sinister than that… 

They’d agreed to meet just outside the Three Broomsticks before apparating to their final destination. He hadn’t told the lads his plans for the day, too scared of what they might say if it didn’t work out. And also maybe scared of what they might say if it did… 

His limbs kept fidgeting nervously while he waited, the cool autumn air making him pull his coat more closely around himself. 

“Over preparation exists, Romie,” There was a glint of shyness in her eye as she double checked her pin straight haired appearance in the mirror, then hesitated between two lip colors before tossing just the one into her shoulder bag. She’d forget about it among pizza and conversation, no doubt. Though thank Godric for the extendable charm she’d placed on it already, or the lemon squares she’d picked up earlier as dessert would peaking out the top and dusting the zipper in powdered sugar.

She approached the Three Broomsticks, her palms going ice cold at a sudden breeze. Nippy air and stress sweat -- what a lovely combination for a first da-- The thought, the truth, was cut off when Ted came into sight and the chill was suddenly gone. He just had a certain warmth about him always. 

“We might be two of the most foolish people for choosing an Autumn picnic.” But help her if she wasn’t excited.

“Great. It’s a date,” he smiled cheesily. Chances were nothing would ever come of it, but if nothing else, it was fun to pretend. It was a kind of faith, believing at the very least this wasn’t some sort of pureblood trick trying to lead him on. He hadn’t known her long, but he chose to believe she wasn’t capable of it. He really, really, really hoped he was right.

“Okay,” She agreed easily, like second nature. How natural it’d been to walk into his space and sit for a chat. What would a picnic bring? She had so much to ask, and maybe at the back of her mind she knew it was the alcohol giving them both the confidence to agree to such a thing, but she went along. It was fun.

Andy rose from his bed to fetch the cup from earlier, grabbing it on her way towards the door. It was about time she headed back towards the castle, away from the party where Alecto was downstairs, and Ted had been lying out before she stumbled inside, so, she mustn't disturb him any further. “And maybe while we’re there, you can explain to me what those are.” Her eyes were drawn to the bright, crumpled up piece of fabric on the other side of the room and she laughed.

There she was, bringing it up again. We. It was enough to make him hopeful, and despite his pounding headache and the fact he felt he was seconds away from making an irreversibly embarrassing error, he let himself be swept up in it. “There’s actually a place not far from my house in Hampshire. It’s not exactly a tropical paradise, but there a park nearby. It’s got trees, and swings, and slides. We could have a picnic.” 

“A picnic with a pizza. Did I hear that right?” That was unheard of, maybe somewhat improper. Weren’t quality cheeses, crackers, and grapes meant for the wicker basket? She’d just convinced herself that odd combinations did indeed work seamlessly, however. Maybe pizza and picnics were just another to add to the list she’d started in Ted’s presence. “Because I’ll bring the napkins.”

Remus was quiet as he moved his spoon around a bowl of cereal, plain weetabix sitting in a small pool of milk. His eyes were scanning over a history of magic textbook idly when someone sat down next to him, causing the werewolf to glance up curiously.

“The replenishing spell on our milk jugs have gone absolutely wonky,” With a clothed napkin, Andy dabbed at the damp spot on her uniform’s vest. “Could I borrow your table’s? And could I also advise a pinch of sugar?” She hadn’t meant to be nosy. She’d just woken up on the curiouser side of the bed. “Cinnamon even, but I don’t favor the spice much.”

It was a goofy little tradition his father had taught him when he was small, and a part of him couldn’t believe that he’d seriously just demonstrated it in front of Andromeda - a girl who was, he could really only admit because she was currently sat on his bed, way too cool and beautiful to be sitting there. So he was even more surprised when she repeated the action back to him, looking, undoubtedly, far better doing it than he ever had. 

The air unexpectedly caught in his throat at her rather daring insinuation, causing him to sputter for a moment while he caught his breath. “I, uh, I’d never dream of forcing olives on an unwilling participant,” he assured her lamely, not quite sure if alcohol was to blame for her invitation and trying to slow his heart rate just in case it was. For some reason, the idea that she might not be serious or might just be having him on was more disappointing than it had any right to be. So much so that he had to say something just to distract himself from the possibility of it. “Did you know that muggles have started putting pineapple on pizza now? They’re calling it ‘Hawaiian’ or something…” 

“Pineapple on pizza, you say?” It was the oddest quirks that had her eyes shining the absolute brightest. Unconventional combinations sometimes worked, she’d learned, like bacon and maple syrup the one time they’d mixed on her plate and all the times she did it purposely afterwards. She heavily relied on Narcissa when it came to dining out with her family -- she always advised Andromeda what was right, and steered her away from the Welsh rarebit she so anxiously wanted to nibble at. Pineapple on pizza, Tonks and Black, sounded deliciously rebellious. And appropriately sweet. “We don’t have to travel to Hawaii, do we? My apparition’s license won’t allow me to get that far.”

He was fairly certain even the people downstairs could hear his heartbeat as he waited for her response. Ted typically hated bringing up blood politics, even around his boys, who he knew were sympathetic. It just felt… way too personal for something that was ultimately out of his control. And after a lifetime spent fighting for his existence, he didn’t want to have to justify it also. But he knew that if he didn’t bring it up now, it would be left dangling over him, like the proverbial elephant tied up by a solitary string. 

The breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding exploded from his mouth as laughter at the unexpected turn. It didn’t answer his unspoken question, but it kept it at bay long enough that he could feel himself relax again. “I sort of always liked olives. But only those big, black, pitless kind that you can put on your fingers and eat off like this.” He demonstrated bringing his fingertips to his lips in quick succession, miming eating an imaginary olive off of each one.  

“Like this?” Andy mimicked, pretending to pick little black, tangy pieces of goodness off her fingertips. This was more fun than air guitar or drums, she realized. Alcohol was having its way with her, that was for sure. “I suppose that means I’ll be suffering with olives the first time you decide to take me out for pizza, doesn’t it?” Andromeda’s forwardness was more shocking than her lack thereof reassurance on muggleborns. 

“Well, I think we’re talking now because you snuck into my bedroom,” he teased, with squinting eyes feigning deep reflection. It lasted only a moment, though, before he quieted to study her with genuine consideration. It was a good question, but he thought that maybe the answer wasn’t nearly as simple as it should have been. 

“I think- I mean, I guess we’ve never really had a reason to before,” he shrugged. Not that they really had one now. He wasn’t complaining, but if his door opened now and someone walked through, he wasn’t sure what he would say. There was nothing wrong with having a girl in his room, but something about this felt private. Almost like he wanted to keep it a secret, so it stayed just between the two of them. “You only got here last year, and I was gone for the last three months of it. Plus-” he hesitated, not sure if he should bring it up. But his instincts told him he should and, somewhat blotto or not, he decided to follow them. “I’m a muggleborn, and you’re… not. A lot of people care about that for some reason.” It wasn’t a judgment, just a statement of fact. And while he didn’t dare say it out loud, he knew well enough by reputation that her family was amongst them. 

But what remained a mystery to him was where she stood. Clearly, she couldn’t object too much if she was sitting here with him now. The door was right there. He wasn’t holding her hostage, and if she wanted to leave, all she had to do was go. But even more than that, he got the impression somehow that she wasn’t like the others. That she was capable of independent thought, and would judge someone based on their character before anything else. 

You were born and bred into the person you were today, everyone believed, but Andromeda deep down thought people were also born with a strong-willed instinct inside them, instinct called a moral compass that knew right from wrong no matter their former teachings. Or you were born with hate. Their upbringings didn’t make Bellatrix into the woman she was. In Andy’s eyes, her sisters’ destinations, and even her own, would be the same no matter their journeys --  no matter their parents. Fate was fate. It didn’t make sense, but neither did discriminating against humans because of their blood.

“I have strong beliefs, too,” Andy purposely led with something that could keep someone on edge. She found it funny, most especially when vodka was the one encouraging her to play around with the boy she shared a mattress with right now. “Like, people who enjoy olives are absolutely mental. Where do you land on the spectrum?”

Ted grinned despite himself at her gentle chiding, both unusually touched by her concern and amused because she did, in fact, sound exactly like his mum. Or, well- not like his mum. He didn’t see her and think ‘mum.’ It was just— his mum had made a similar comment once or twice, and it was funny that Andromeda seemed to instinctively know that… Coincidence. He was amused by coincidence. “I’ll, uh, I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve grown quite fond of this head, and I think it’d be rather hard to find a replacement one…” 

He swallowed thickly as she made his way to sit on his bed, thankful that he’d had the foresight to make it and that it was too early in the term for his sheets to be disgustingly unlaundered. The same could not be said for the pair of pants he’d thrown haplessly into the corner last night, and he pointedly didn’t look over at them, as though he could somehow will it out of existence that way. They were the mildly embarrassing sort - a gag gift from one of the Prewetts, though he forgot which one - with a slightly lewd pun involving wands and broomsticks patterned across it… 

He made his way to sit next to her wordlessly, not sure what amount of space to leave between them, but airing on the side of caution. It wasn’t like he had lured her up here himself, but he still wanted to be respectful - something that had always been second nature to him, but now suddenly required second thought. “Thanks. I can’t take any credit. It was all the Prewetts… They even did my hair and make-up. Made me look all presentable,” he joked lightly, playing off her compliment as he still wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “But I chose the outfit,” he added, though there wasn’t much impressive about his patterned button-down and jeans. 

“You, though,” he started, feeling the tips of his ears turn red as he though about how to finish that thought. Look beautiful? Look hot? “-Look like you should be doing a lot more than hiding out in a room with me…” 

“The outfit coordinates well with you’re alright head.” There wasn’t tension building necessarily, or even a sense of awkwardness to cut through, but Andy wished she still had the pint of a mixed drink in her hand to fiddle with and sip from. It wasn’t the alcohol she needed, she was just always fidgeting. However, the more she allowed herself to meet his gaze from the way she looked up at Ted sideways, the easier it was becoming to stay comfortable.

The compliment, though, had doe eyes adverting and boring into a loud, crumpled and discarded material of clothing across the bedroom. She would’ve made out the pattern if it weren’t for her brain existing some place else right now. There was truth to the statement Tonks spoke. She did look fit for the dance floor, and there was nothing comparable to her train of thoughts finally coming to a complete halt when gyrating her hips and blending into the base line of a muggle hook she’d never heard. God, it was a euphoric dream. There was nothing comparable.

‘Til now, it felt.

“I’ve been places. This isn’t close to even the worst of them,” Her voice was soft and it was gentle. “Why haven’t we spoken before?” Though she already knew the real answer. It was more rhetorical than anything. “And why are we now?”

“Yeah.” Alecto replied, leaning back against the tub in defeat, admitting to being rejected and talking about how she felt about it wasn’t easy for her. Emotions could be taken for weakness and Alecto Carrow was not weak. 

She watched curiously as Andromeda stripped out of her dress and transformed the bath into a hot tub. Alecto would never admit that it was nice to have someone to talk to. To have a moment where she could pretend that she had a friend instead of people who hated her. 

“Much.” Alecto replied, leaning back in the tub, enjoying the feel of the jets against her skin. She thought to leave it at that but in an effort to keep it amicable she offered a small “Thank you.” Which might have been missed if one weren’t paying attention. 

“We should do this again,” Andy murmured once settled in with eyes closed, head leaned back comfortably. It was as though it went without saying that every house had each their own backs. Slytherins would be there for Slytherins -- it was just assumed, but it wasn’t always true. Andromeda made sure it was in this instance.

Ted was not entirely unaccustomed to having girls in his room, though his current bumbling did little to support that claim. He was sure the blame lay at least partially with the alcohol, but the fact that it was Andromeda out of everyone did an extra bit to get his heart racing and his palms sweating. It was strange - it was almost like she intimidated him, though their previous meeting had proven well enough that she didn’t pose a threat. She was kind and funny, and he genuinely enjoyed talking with her, but something about her still scared him. He’d never experienced that before, and while it was unfamiliar, he couldn’t help but think he sort of liked it. 

“I’m good,” he said, waving off her offer of more alcohol with a smile. “I, uh, it’s complicated Muggle Science stuff, but basically I’m still trying to figure out my new limit. I think I might have given myself too much credit.” He smiled sheepishly. He’d passed the fun point of the night, when delightful loopiness had given way to nauseating dizziness and a pounding headache. The quiet helped some, but he knew he was in for hell tomorrow. 

“At the risk of sounding like a mum, I swear if you have medication and you mixed it with alcohol, I’ll have your head, you hear me?” A giggle followed as she pointed a finger accusingly in Ted’s face. It was obvious she’d had a bit much, too, as she swayed in place. She decided to get rid of her drink, setting it beside one of his trinkets she’d be sure to ask about later. Later. Right now, Tonks’ health seemed most important, and it was still something she was too curious about. Something, for some reason, she needed every piece of the 1,000 piece puzzle to.

She made the bold move of inching towards his bed, sitting at the edge and near the head of it, and then pat the spot beside her with no such hesitation, “You should probably keep off your feet as you were before I interrupted. Or, at the very least, I can cast a decent silencing charm to forget about what’s going on out there so you can get some sleep. Not that I think you need sleep-- You don’t look it.” Her filter was slowly deteriorating, but hopefully pausing her alcohol intake would have her acting normal again. In the meantime -- “You look great. It was a -- great party.”

Alecto smiled at the other woman’s response. She was right, people are stupid, but for Andromeda to admit something as such spoke volumes. Andromeda was supposed to be the sweet one. The understanding and accepting one. There may be hope for her yet. 

“I’m not damaged.” She countered, eyes narrowing at the accusation. “I’m just not- used to rejection- especially in the middle of it.” Alecto has had her fair share of flings. Pure blood boys she could be mean to, who fawned all over her. Sturgis was a different breed, literally. They had been having a surprisingly good time and then he just stopped. 

 Alecto snapped from her recollection of the event at Andromeda’s words. No one had ever asked her that in any sense. “No, but it’s not like I need anyone’s sympathy.”

“In the middle-- Oh.” Andromeda’s sentence was stalled and her features deflated. Maybe it wasn’t so much about typical boy problems and rather, rejection. It’d be a hard pill to swallow, and maybe slightly selfish to feel so sad your ego was bruised, but Andy had an inkling she, too, would want to hole up in a tub away from the madness and world of ‘no’s’. 

Suddenly, Andromeda was pulling her deep purple summer dress over her head, leaving her in the thin brassiere and panties underneath, “If we’re going to be upset, we’re going to do it in fashion.” A whisk and a few flicks later, the tub was charmed into a hot tub, jet streams hitting places of Dromeda’s back that had the tension fleeing almost immediately. 

“What do you say? Isn’t this better?”

Lounging on her bed, silken robe hanging off her frame, Bella was hard at work organizing the seating chart for an upcoming JWL event. Meaning, she was privately bitching about half the attendees and working her way through a bottle of dry, dark wine that stained her lips with every pull. Hearing Andromeda’s voice was a relief, causing her to look up from her work. “Come in, Andy,” she called, setting the parchment aside as she rose from the bed to greet her sister. She arched a brow as she took in her sister’s form and her reddened nose. “Sick again?” She asked, already knowing the answer as she headed towards her desk. Opening the bottom drawer, she handed her sister a basket with her favorite tea, powder for hot cocoa, and potions from St. Mungos for her cold. It was something Bella had made years ago after watching her sister suffer through her seasonal cold. Bella wasn’t typically one for nurturing others but anything concerning her sisters or health, in general, caused her to become rather protective.

“You outdid yourself this time,” Andy cooed, sniffles following as she took the basket and hugged it to her chest in one arm and pulled Bella in underneath the other. “Why don’t I put on the kettle and you tell me about your day?” As her eyes scanned the apartment and took notice of wine glass, she couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’d say you have a bit on your mind.”