soldier on

i.

feelings aren’t part of the plan. feelings of frustration. feelings of anger. interest. connection. he is supposed to be apathetic. ted tonks is synonymous with apathy   too aloof and distant to let you into his thoughts, let alone his feelings.

but something about her words. she fights him, deconstructs every unfair argument methodically. turns over every truthful one carefully, inspecting it with the kind of caution used to handle new, and dangerous things. she strips him of his defence, of his distance. of his words. her privilege is still pervasive, as sharp as her perfume. and yet, she has him intrigued. andromeda black is more than he presumed of a pureblood daughter. she pushes, she challenges, she is haughty and speaks her mind. she is unexpected.

his feelings are a tumult, a clamouring and itching in the back of his head. worst of all he can’t even eat his bloody burger and fries without thinking of andromeda black. would she balk at his lack of cutlery? would she wipe the tomato sauce from his cheek and laugh? debate him on the ethics of supporting multinational fast-food conglomerates? ask him about muggle things like milkshakes and fries? she never ceased to surprise.

all ted knew was his burger doesn’t taste as good with intrigue on his tongue. and his feelings are everywhere.

ii.

if she is the stars, then he is the earth. grounded, fortified, solemn, steady. and the seaside is neutral ground.

the summer is kind to them. time away from the closed, suffocating network of hogwarts. with the days off from working, ted finds himself with andromeda black, by the seaside. he had always loved the seaside. it was one of those enchanted places. not with magic, but with memories. sharing it with her is sharing part of himself. as much of himself he can bear to give freely.

they create new memories. they debate, they challenge, they laugh and they walk. she truly sees him. exposes him as just a boy at the beach, and expects nothing more of him. the sea breeze leaves his hair sticking up at odd angles. the sand caught in the wind whips the backs of their legs. the sea spray dulls her perfume and makes her lips taste like salt.

but if it was enchanted to begin with, the seaside becomes ethereal. something that brings both stars and earth together.

iii.

their wedding is far more than either of them wanted.

in fact, it doesn’t happen until dora, the best parts of them distilled, prompts them with the most innocent of questions.

it never felt like the right time, nor did it feel like something they had to do. they were comfortable with their little family, married or not. independence was important to them both, and ted never felt the need to scrub black from her name. though he loathed her family, he knew it was more complicated.

from the moment dora gets the idea, she grabs it with two hands, and runs with it. that’s how he ends up with a wedding planned by lily (@kingsleyshacklebolt). jess (@steveharringtin) helps him get ready, by his side, as always. with benjy (@freesiateas) and his stupid cat, beaming from the front row, under strict instructions not to cry. emmeline (@veloravessar) takes every opportunity she can to tease him, reminding him of how he kicked and fought with the idea of feeling for andromeda black the whole way.

dora helps pick the flowers. every shade of purple, just like her hair, for andromeda. a white flower for ted from their garden, pinned to his lapel. he refuses to wear a suit, because if he was going to have a damn wedding, he was going to do it his way. black converse. ripped jeans. leather jacket.

he sees the wedding as a formality, as a distraction. he feels guilty for choosing his family over his cause, but he knew from the moment he saw dora, he had to see her grow up. as selfish as it was, he would not make andromeda’s brave choice be one in vain.

he sees andromeda, being led by a grinning dora down the aisle, and he can’t stop his smile. not a smirk, a genuine, awfully aching and longing smile.

the vows come from the heart. they’ve exchanged a lifetime of words already, but these are the easily most important they’ve ever said to one another. because she deserved to know the place she holds in his heart. and even if there are people watching, he’ll be damned. he can still be punk and have feelings.

but it’s part way through, when he’s feeling a bit choked up, that he stops. and sheds his leather jacket. it’s ridiculous, he knows it, but he needs to see his jacket in its rightful place. he drapes it over her shoulders. and of course she rolls her eyes at him for having a second leather jacket on underneath. of course she laughs, hand over mouth, graceful as ever.

but there she is, andromeda black, purple flowers in hand and leather jacket around her shoulders. there he is, ted tonks, in worn canvas converse, hair flopped over his forehead and tickling the tips of his ears.

perhaps weddings weren’t so bad after all.

iv. blood tw, death tw.

he would never register. ted thinks andromeda understands, because she knows him. she knows that it’s too high a price. it all sounds like a sham, but even if it weren’t, he would never allow himself to be discriminated against. he had experienced enough of that for this lifetime.

there’s so much left unsaid. because they both refuse to entertain any possibility that it was a goodbye, or anything final. they were both reasonable, logical people. but they allowed themselves this small inconsistency. because in it, they were defiant. they were strong. they rose to all the challenges that their unlikely life together had thrown at them. and he’d be damned if death eaters that away from him too.

he leaves their home with a kiss and the fondest of looks. he leaves her in the doorway, his jacket draped around her shoulders, without tears because she’s andromeda tonks, and she would not mourn a man who was going to come home to her.

but after all is said and done, part of him knew that it would end like this.

not exactly how. the setting changed but the important parts stayed the same. he’d die fighting, alone, but for his family.

at first, that looked like his parents. they were kind, and everything he hoped to protect in the world. they gave him everything, and expected nothing in return.

then, it was for a cause. his cause. that was before nymphadora came along. but he was prepared to give his life, because what life was there to have under a death eater regime?

but now, staring up at the stars, bleeding into the earth, he knew that this was the most fitting. both family, and cause. the selfish, greedy part of himself wanted more. he wanted that final goodbye with andromeda, to see his daughter and ruffle her hair just one more time. to meet his grandchild. but he knows life had been generous, given him more than he had expected.

that’s what he tells himself as he stares up at the stars, his bones aching for home. his eyes focus on the twinkle of the stars. and that’s when he sees, and ted can’t help but let out a breath of a laugh. andromeda, staring down at him. the stars, her namesake, visible on the clearest december night. some cruel irony, or some comfort, he could not say.

but he watches the stars twinkle and begin to fade, one-by-one. his fingers, dirt and blood crusted to his fingernails, trace patterns into the dirt like he once traced onto her back. tears in his eyes, he remembers the picture of strength she was. and it’s some comfort, knowing she’s strong, that she will endure.