As children in the Black family, Bellatrix, Narcissa and I were raised to be proper pure-blooded witches, to uphold the family name, and make nice marriages to nice pure-blood men when we came of age. Bella and Cissy practically lived off our family’s prejudices, always walking through the home, repeating the sayings Mother had told them were true, and doing anything to gain our parents’ approval. Always, I was the different one; the spotless puppy in a world of Dalmatians, it seemed. I would rather read a book than go to fancy balls and dinner parties. Instead of going to Diagon and Knockturn Alley with my family, I preferred to tell them what I required and stayed home, having the house to myself. In these moments, I was at my most peaceful.

My parents were worried. I was unique. I was different. They thought going to Hogwarts and being in Slytherin would reaffirm my beliefs, would be an impetus to my “seeing of the truth.” Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I grown up in a loving household who were open to their changing surroundings as opposed to where I was in reality.

It got even worse when I was sorted into Ravenclaw. I was immediately estranged from my family. Being the middle child, and a girl at that, I was… expendable. My family could go on without me in their presence, merely coexisting. During the first few years, I was upset. I couldn’t understand why they did not want me, just because I was Sorted into a different house, or why Mother sent me Howlers so often, Dumbledore began screening my mail and letting them all go off in a soundless room somewhere in Hogwarts.

My sisters turned their backs on me. I was completely ignored by Bella in school, and eventually, when she arrived, Cissy acted like I was nothing but a bit of dust on the flood, nothing better than the “Mudblood scum” that roamed the school.

People in my own House were scared of me because of my name.

“How could a Black, of all people, be sorted anywhere but Slytherin,” they thought, “unless she knows some really dark magic and tricked the Sorting Hat?”

I never spoke of my family to anyone but my one, true friend, one who would never turn his back on me. If only my parents knew then he was a Mudblood Hufflepuff, I’m sure they would have arranged for some kind of “accident” to occur and unfortunately affect his family. They would do anything to ruin my happiness, yeah?

***

I met Ted in my fifth year, long after my estrangement. He was sloppy, yet charmingly handsome. His shirt tail was never in place, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his tie always hung loosely around his neck. As we were both Potions scholars, we often met to brew potions at a more advanced level in Professor Slughorn’s dungeon.

One night, Slughorn left the textbook open to the recipe of Amortentia, our toughest challenge yet. Normally I was felt numb, unfeeling. That night, I saw something in his smile that caught me off guard. His smile was warm, and inviting, just like his deep brown eyes. I relaxed and looked at the book, flushing a bit.

Amortentia was recognizable by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen and by the fact that its steam rose in characteristic spirals. The scent of the potion, as our textbook stated, varied from person to person. I smelt cinnamon latte, a Muggle drink that I had tried in a small shop in London when I visited my roommate one summer.

Taking a leap of faith, I asked Ted what scent he smelled on our potion. I think he was surprised, considering I never said anything but a cordial ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’ to him when entering and leaving the classroom. There was always the formality, the formality that reminded me of my old life. His smile grew wider as he answered me simply.

“Rain.”

Now it was my turn to act slightly surprised. I cautiously smiled.

“Why is that? Rain doesn’t smell,” I responded matter-of-factly, looking a bit smug.

Undeterred, he pressed onward.

“Yes, it does, and I’ll try to describe it for you in a couple of minutes. I need time to take in that I, Ted Tonks, am going to prove a Ravenclaw wrong.” He smirked, but quickly looked nervous again. He noticeably relaxed in his chair as I laughed, relieving some of the new-formed tension.

“Well, where to begin? The smell of rain is crisp, comforting, and refreshing. It is pure and clean. It smells like renewal. I always like when it rains. I feel like for that day, or however long it does rain, I can slow down and start over. To me, rain is a renaissance in and of itself. I feel like it is okay to start over. Rain symbolizes reassurance.”

I sat there, slightly gaping, and realized then that there was much more to Ted Tonks than what met the eye.

***

After that one day things became different. I now felt I had a reliable friend. One I could share opinions with without being judged. One I could tell my secrets, or tell stories about my family. I could trust Ted, and our bond grew stronger.

The bond we shared through sixth year was purely platonic. He dated a few girls from his own House but they came and went with the changing of seasons. I asked him why he was so picky, and he always responded with something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t feel anything other than physical attraction, so I stopped it. I need to be able to talk with her without walking away feeling as if I gained nothing from that empty conversation.’

Always one for an intelligent conversation myself, I generally let the topic drop.

***

By my seventh year, when I began feeling even more of an attachment to Ted than the attachment normally associated with friendship, I got scared. How could I tell him without ruining our friendship? Sure, we talked multiple times a day, and sure, he knew almost everything about me, but our bond was too special for me to discard so abruptly.

One day in December, close to Christmas, Ted sent me a letter.

It read:

Andromeda,

I would have told you in person, but since you were no where to be found, I decided to write. I’m staying for Christmas break at Hogwarts. Since you stay every year because of your awful family, I’ve decided that we will have our own little Christmas celebration.

Ted

That Christmas celebration was single-handedly the greatest gift I could ever ask for.

Being two of a small number of students, Professors didn’t care where we went, so long as it wasn’t forbidden. Ted and I snuck down to the kitchen, like we had on many previous occasions for late night snacks and chats about our busy lives. He had a basket ready on the table and carried it in one hand.

He and I walked side by side, through the Grounds, to a willow tree near the lake. He placed a blanket on the ground, muttering the incantation for a Warming Charm. Gesturing for me to sit down, he began to nervously fidget with his hands while I complied.

He soon joined me on the blanket, opened the basket and began unloading it. There was roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a large assortment of vegetables inside. We loaded up our plates in comfortable silence and ate, looking at the snow fall onto the frozen lake. It was breathtaking.

Once we finished eating, Ted silently cast a Cushioning Charm on the trunk of the tree and we leaned our backs up against it. We sat together for few more minutes before he cleared his throat. “’Meda?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Really, how surprising!” I responded, as my ‘playful smirk’ crept onto my face.

He smiled, and retorted, “Hey, I’m trying to be serious!”

“All right, continue.”

“Well, as I was saying, I’ve been thinking, lately. I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“What about?” I asked.

“Us,” he stated tersely.

“Really?” I responded, genuinely intrigued.

“Well, yeah. Something seems different now than it did in fifth year.”

“Besides the fact that I can actually speak to you now?” I joked.

He chuckled softly, before continuing. “I feel differently about you, too, you know. Before, you were a good friend, but now you’re my best. I can tell you things I can’t tell anyone else. You’ve helped me mature, and restart when certain things spin my life out of control. Basically, what I’m trying to say now is… be my girl?”

The last line was almost a whisper, his voice shook with nervousness, and he was showing me a side of him I had never seen before now. Every aspect of him was kind, and gentle. He was everything my supposed family was not. He had always been there to fill their gap when I was at my lowest, and made me feel rejuvenated and new.

I brought my eyes up to meet his, understanding dawning.

“I’ve never been anyone else’s,” I whispered back to him.

Slowly, I tilted my face upward, and our lips met. For those few seconds, our love of each other was evident, even though it was unspoken.

He pulled away and looked at me once more before speaking.

“You have always been my rain.”