boy working on empty

Looking up at the other Regulus wondered if only momentarily why the other boy was talking in his general direction. He was a Muggleborn after all, and most muggleborns avoided the Black family like the plague. Not that it really mattered, Regulus didn’t carry his prejudices like the others did, so it was probably for the best that the hufflepuff directed the comment to him and not one of his cousins “Well Edward” He said non chalantly folding his own copy of the wizarding newspaper neatly down to a manageable square. “I hate to break it to you like this but if you had actually read the paper you’ve been staring at you would know it most certainly is not. Wimborne is on a 5 game losing streak and the English national team just lost its second player to long term injury.”

“Oh but I greatly disagree, you haven’t even seen how truly fun I can be…”

Ted had to make a choice. He could either run from her, stand his ground, or fight back and then run from her. If he ran, she’d come for him. He could feel her malice like pins in his skin, demanding blood he loathed to part with. “Black, enough of this. I’ve no quarrel with you.”

She would laugh, despite the trembling to her voice a smile would spread over her lips, “It can be confusing.”

“The brain or the boy? I’ve been told both by a few people, my little sister in particular.” Ted liked that she smiled at his jokes. Sybill always seemed so out of it. “Do you have siblings?”

She kept moving towards him, eyes growing narrow, “And miss all this fun?”

“Nothing you offer is going to be fun.”

She continued to follow after him, eyes moving to the way his feet stepped away—smile growing twisted at the sound of his fear, “Something wrong there Teddy-Boy?”

He flinched, but not because of her presence. His sister called him teddybear when she was being sweet or wanted something from him, and hearing such a smilar phrase from someone who terrified him put Ted on edge. He didn’t want those associations. He wanted to keep his worlds separate. “Nothing really, just thinking I ought to head out now,” he tried to sound firm, but the righteousness was gone and there was no drawing it back.

She gave him a nod, “You would be surprised w-what you may find back there.”

“You should help me sometime. Because I’ll tell you now, I don’t quite know what we’re talking about still.”

Ted knew he made a mistake when Bellatrix got that look. He had a mouth on him when he was being righteous, but he had never done this before -- never so openly spoke against the people who hated his kind, who thought him lesser for being born to muggles. He swallowed roughly and backed away from Bellatrix. “I’ve been told it gets me into trouble,” he offered, unable to be quiet but his tone so different, very much laced with fear.

There was something about a challenge that made Amos eager to straddle his broomstick even more so when it was his dearest brother initiating it. He knew that joining the team when his brother was captain was just asking for trouble but he ignored that. Amos rolled his eyes, kicking off and leaving the rest of their team below him. Once he was up in the air and across from Ted he tilted his head back, grinning widely. “Are you going to make me do circles around the pitch again?”

“Enough circles to set your mind to spinning. You’ll have a permanently curved broom!” The banter came easily to Ted when he was near people he could be comfortable with. Amos was much that person, most of the time. It helped that Quidditch was the one place Ted could be wholly in control, just like when he practiced magic. 

“It’s so sweet that you really believe that. I’m definitely looking forward to proving you wrong though, not going to lie.”

“I thought all Slytherins could lie.”

A wide bright smile burst from her lips when she realized who she had stumbled upon. Unconscious that her inner feelings, her secret affection for the boy in front of her was transparent across her face and her body language. It didn’t even dawn on her that he had called her ‘Andy’; a nickname that she rarely let anyone use, but somehow she didn’t mind it so much with him. Andromeda relaxed in the closeness, her eyes for once not darting around them, and breathed out a sweet laugh, “Yes yes, talkative like the birds that chirp in the morning and sing in the night, like the nightingale who sings for her supper. Or is that another creature. Perhaps unlike the Thestrals that are hidden, hidden from the likes of you and me.” The nonsense continued to spill from her even as she simply wanted to ask him how he was and if he was enjoying himself, “And you? Is the body intact? The mind like cogs in a clock? Nothing missing, nothing lost?” 

Andromeda was not herself, but neither was Ted, not wholly. The part of him elated to hold onto her blossomed small, subconscious feelings until the weight of warmth and growing affection that rested in his chest only made his inebriation worse. Her words made little sense, but he loved to listen to them for that moment, even when he knew she could annoy as easily as entertain sober. If this happened any other night, he would not be this open, caring not wanting of it, but tonight just... it meant more.

“Simply shift the broken pieces, focus on…” she told him, “Well…l-look beyond them if you can.”

“To the beyond of them, you mean. There’s got to be a space after all that memory and quirks.”

She laughed, “And who pray tell would even attempt doing that?”

“Someone who has better morals.”

The effects of the fizzy love, a ridiculous name in her sober opinion, was beginning to influence her behaviour. The potion in her drink must have been the Babbling Beverage as she discovered the inability to stop rambling on about nonsense. Andromeda would be horrified in the morning for making such a fool of herself. But at the moment, she was rather enjoying herself as she swayed to the music. She babbled underneath her breath before stumbling and reaching out for the nearest person, “Oh what a tumble, did you hear about the tumbling that the moving staircase does when we’re all asleep? The knight in the red castle told me the staircase dances and dances,” She blinked and smiled serenely, “Your arm is very soft, you must let me borrow your House Elf.”

‘Fizzy love’ let Ted float. He was not touching the ground emotionally, not grounded mentally, and if it could translate to actual physicality, he would be at the ceiling. He was mellow for the first time in a few days, relaxed and happy and enjoying hanging around with a few of his fellow Housemates. He could have happily stayed there, a drink in hand, until an arm slipped through his and a familiar voice called out in a very funny manner. “Andy?” he asked, caught up in confusion too much to realize he’d voiced a pet name he’d only ever said in his head. Andromeda was a mouthful. ‘Meda sounded too intimate. Andy was just... short enough to define an impossible person. She clung to him and he acted without thinking, drawing her closer. A wide smile lit up his face, the relaxed feeling tenfold with euphoria as she held onto him. “You’re very talkative tonight.”

“Oh you believe I should pause for the footstool we all use in our advancement?” she paused eyes narrowing as that smile grew more twisted, “How quaint.”

“And what about when you’re someone else’s stepping stone, Black?” he muttered, trying to play off the sharp edge to his voice.

Amos moves his lips, mocking his words wordlessly. “I would have more fun if we were up there,” he responds, gesturing up. “We aren’t going to stand a chance against Slytherin if we stand down here gossiping.”

“Then get your arse on your broom and fly your talk,” Ted challenged good naturedly before climbing on his own. He was in the air immediately, swerving as he steadied himself a few feet about Amos.