HP:: The Blood of Ash [Andromeda/Ted::PG13]
Title: The Blood of Ash
Character(s): Andromeda Black, Ted Tonks, Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black
Prompt: 06. a broken circle
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1075
Author's Notes: There is some harsher language, but other than that it's pretty kiddie safe. This is fic has a different tone from the others, is a bit more introspective, but I do like the concept of reactions. They're beautiful things. I cannot believe I'm almost done, but trust me, number 07 is going to be a big one.
She sits on her bed, the four wooden posters carved with ancient faces and figures that would’ve have scared most children, but she found them comforting, having grown up surrounded by the grotesqueness of their features peering down at her as she slept, keeping a silent guard.
The curtains that hang from the posters are black and silver, velvet and silk, as much a symbol as anything else in this house and she stares at her reflection in the mirror hanging above the dressing table across from her bed. Shining silver eyes stare back at her in the glass and it takes more than a few blinks for her to realize that it is indeed her that she is looking at and not someone else.
The door swings open, slamming against the frame and causing the people in the portraits on the walls to flee them, and the walls to shake slightly as Bellatrix bursts into the room, a swarm of angry energy, with Narcissa following close on her heels.
“You betrayed us,” Bella rages, both seething and screaming at the time, her dark hooded eyes flashing. She’s furious and part of Andromeda is terrified that her sister is going to kill her. “You had such potential and you threw it away, you shamed the family. You were a Black, for fuck’s sake and now you at look you, you’re nothing but a mudblood’s whore!”
Bella is standing close to where Andromeda is seated on the bed, pacing back and forth, sometimes her face is inches away, other times she is as away as the dresser. Narcissa is crying quiet sobs near the doorway. She was always the more fragile sister.
“What did you think you were doing, Andromeda? Do you think that this is going to work out? That when this fails you’ll be able to come back?” Bellatrix asks, let out a cold, twisted laugh. “You destroyed the circle, you burned yourself off the tree. You turned your back on your sisters and now you’re dead to us. Dead.”
She walks over to Andromeda and stares her right in the eyes and Andromeda feels part of her heart freeze. “Dead,” Bellatrix says in a cold, whisper, before striking her hard across the face, something not even their father dared do.
Andromeda clutches her face, feeling the sting of red flesh and tears rush to her eyes, she turns her head to follow Bellatrix’s remaining actions and watches as her sister takes the photograph of the three sisters and throw it in the flames of the fire in hearth, watches the glass break and the photo burn. Bella stalks out of the room, and Andromeda stares at Narcissa with a redden face and her little sister lets out a sob and follows their sister.
Andromeda is left alone in the room.
She hears her family falling apart in the house below her. She can hear the distant sobs of Narcissa, the sound of breaking glass and broken things as Bellatrix moves to destroy any evidence of her left in the house and the sound of her parents loudly raging over whose fault it is that she turned out this way. Over whose blood cause this accident.
She turns her face back to the mirror and reddened tear soaked eyes meet her. There is a perfect outline of Bellatrix’s hand on her face and though she knows the physical mark will fade, she cannot help but think that the brand will never cease to go away.
That she will always be the dead sister of Bellatrix and Narcissa, even when she is still very much alive.
She is still lost in her thought when she hears a ping of something hard, hitting glass. It takes more than one noise before she notices and realizes that something is tapping against the window.
She stands up and gets off of the bed and moves off to the window, pulling open the drapes to see what is tapping against the window, thing that perhaps it’s an owl come to the wrong window and what she sees causes her sad face to break into an instant smile.
It’s Ted Tonks.
He’s outside of her window, hovering there on a broomstick.
She undoes the latch and opens the window. He speaks before she has a chance to.
“I had a feeling that you might need to be rescued,” he says, a smile on his face. He gestures to the broom. “So here I am. Get your things and we’ll leave this nightmare.”
She steps out onto the ledge for a moment, leaning forward and pulls him close to her, giving him a kiss of gratitude, never happier to see him than she has been right at that moment.
“That bad, eh?” he says when she breaks the kiss and all she can do is nod, before turning and going back inside.
She pulls a single black satchel out of the wardrobe, and begins to haphazardly throw what little things she actually truly cares about in needs into it. She’s too frazzled to use magic right then, but when it comes to her clothes, she pulls her wand out her pocket, and uses it a quick packing Charm to shrink her clothes and send them into the case. She pulls out the few books she actually cares about, and tosses them and a locket inside the bag as well.
She lifts up a rug, and pulls up a loose floorboard, pulling out a box that contains the key to her vault and what precious things she has. That too goes in the bag. She grabs her cloak and fastens it around her shoulders, before magically lightening the satchel and stepping back to the window, where Ted is still waiting.
He motions for him to join her on the broom, which she does, carefully and steadily, uneasy with the bag that she has to secure. She knows she doesn’t have the time to get her own broom from the rack in cupboard downstairs.
She slides her hands around his waist, gripping tightly and he pushes off and out of her balcony and away from her childhood home.
She’s no longer a Black, she realizes, and she’s not sure who she is if not that. She clings to him tighter. She’ll figure that when they land, because for now, she’s just grateful that he was there for her.
To be her new circle.
Character(s): Andromeda Black, Ted Tonks, Bellatrix Black, Narcissa Black
Prompt: 06. a broken circle
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1075
Author's Notes: There is some harsher language, but other than that it's pretty kiddie safe. This is fic has a different tone from the others, is a bit more introspective, but I do like the concept of reactions. They're beautiful things. I cannot believe I'm almost done, but trust me, number 07 is going to be a big one.
She sits on her bed, the four wooden posters carved with ancient faces and figures that would’ve have scared most children, but she found them comforting, having grown up surrounded by the grotesqueness of their features peering down at her as she slept, keeping a silent guard.
The curtains that hang from the posters are black and silver, velvet and silk, as much a symbol as anything else in this house and she stares at her reflection in the mirror hanging above the dressing table across from her bed. Shining silver eyes stare back at her in the glass and it takes more than a few blinks for her to realize that it is indeed her that she is looking at and not someone else.
The door swings open, slamming against the frame and causing the people in the portraits on the walls to flee them, and the walls to shake slightly as Bellatrix bursts into the room, a swarm of angry energy, with Narcissa following close on her heels.
“You betrayed us,” Bella rages, both seething and screaming at the time, her dark hooded eyes flashing. She’s furious and part of Andromeda is terrified that her sister is going to kill her. “You had such potential and you threw it away, you shamed the family. You were a Black, for fuck’s sake and now you at look you, you’re nothing but a mudblood’s whore!”
Bella is standing close to where Andromeda is seated on the bed, pacing back and forth, sometimes her face is inches away, other times she is as away as the dresser. Narcissa is crying quiet sobs near the doorway. She was always the more fragile sister.
“What did you think you were doing, Andromeda? Do you think that this is going to work out? That when this fails you’ll be able to come back?” Bellatrix asks, let out a cold, twisted laugh. “You destroyed the circle, you burned yourself off the tree. You turned your back on your sisters and now you’re dead to us. Dead.”
She walks over to Andromeda and stares her right in the eyes and Andromeda feels part of her heart freeze. “Dead,” Bellatrix says in a cold, whisper, before striking her hard across the face, something not even their father dared do.
Andromeda clutches her face, feeling the sting of red flesh and tears rush to her eyes, she turns her head to follow Bellatrix’s remaining actions and watches as her sister takes the photograph of the three sisters and throw it in the flames of the fire in hearth, watches the glass break and the photo burn. Bella stalks out of the room, and Andromeda stares at Narcissa with a redden face and her little sister lets out a sob and follows their sister.
Andromeda is left alone in the room.
She hears her family falling apart in the house below her. She can hear the distant sobs of Narcissa, the sound of breaking glass and broken things as Bellatrix moves to destroy any evidence of her left in the house and the sound of her parents loudly raging over whose fault it is that she turned out this way. Over whose blood cause this accident.
She turns her face back to the mirror and reddened tear soaked eyes meet her. There is a perfect outline of Bellatrix’s hand on her face and though she knows the physical mark will fade, she cannot help but think that the brand will never cease to go away.
That she will always be the dead sister of Bellatrix and Narcissa, even when she is still very much alive.
She is still lost in her thought when she hears a ping of something hard, hitting glass. It takes more than one noise before she notices and realizes that something is tapping against the window.
She stands up and gets off of the bed and moves off to the window, pulling open the drapes to see what is tapping against the window, thing that perhaps it’s an owl come to the wrong window and what she sees causes her sad face to break into an instant smile.
It’s Ted Tonks.
He’s outside of her window, hovering there on a broomstick.
She undoes the latch and opens the window. He speaks before she has a chance to.
“I had a feeling that you might need to be rescued,” he says, a smile on his face. He gestures to the broom. “So here I am. Get your things and we’ll leave this nightmare.”
She steps out onto the ledge for a moment, leaning forward and pulls him close to her, giving him a kiss of gratitude, never happier to see him than she has been right at that moment.
“That bad, eh?” he says when she breaks the kiss and all she can do is nod, before turning and going back inside.
She pulls a single black satchel out of the wardrobe, and begins to haphazardly throw what little things she actually truly cares about in needs into it. She’s too frazzled to use magic right then, but when it comes to her clothes, she pulls her wand out her pocket, and uses it a quick packing Charm to shrink her clothes and send them into the case. She pulls out the few books she actually cares about, and tosses them and a locket inside the bag as well.
She lifts up a rug, and pulls up a loose floorboard, pulling out a box that contains the key to her vault and what precious things she has. That too goes in the bag. She grabs her cloak and fastens it around her shoulders, before magically lightening the satchel and stepping back to the window, where Ted is still waiting.
He motions for him to join her on the broom, which she does, carefully and steadily, uneasy with the bag that she has to secure. She knows she doesn’t have the time to get her own broom from the rack in cupboard downstairs.
She slides her hands around his waist, gripping tightly and he pushes off and out of her balcony and away from her childhood home.
She’s no longer a Black, she realizes, and she’s not sure who she is if not that. She clings to him tighter. She’ll figure that when they land, because for now, she’s just grateful that he was there for her.
To be her new circle.