Human beings are funny… they long to be with people they love but refuse to admit openly.
“They can’t all be like that.”
Professor Binns looked up at the interruption. His drone on giant wars and the brutality of the giants drew to a halt.
Ted ignored the elbow he received to the ribs and the eyebrows currently wiggling in his direction. Aside from his friends, the rest of the class looked shaken out of their daze and were either grateful or annoyed “ depending on their current occupations. Those intent on taking a kip and those daydreaming wore the scowls.
Ted had been one of those daydreaming, but somehow, something in Professor Binns’ whirring words punctured through him.
“We can see proof in Hagrid sure enough, can’t we? I suppose there’s always this odd kitten in a family, in a society, who’s just inclined or willing to go against the ‘mores’.
“At least, I hope so,” Ted added as an afterthought, and as a cue for the professor to continue his droning. With a curt nod and nothing more, the droning was indeed resumed.
Ted fought the urge to turn his head slightly to the right. He could look at her later. Right now it would be too obvious and too pointed.
And he couldn’t afford to be either of the two.
Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear.
“You’re the only Hufflepuff here.”
“Yeah. You don’t mind if I partner with you, do you?”
“I suppose not.”
“You won’t get in trouble with your family?”
Andromeda’s estimation of this boy’s nerve jumped another notch. Her chin went up another centimetre. “Even if I will, that’s not for you to concern yourself with or even ask about.”
He gave an apologetic smile and turned his whole attention to setting up his cauldron, and then the whole lesson afterwards, not speaking to her again. Andromeda didn’t know whether to be affronted or not. Frankly, she felt his choosing to work with her in Potions was quite bold and presumptuous on his part, but Ted Tonks was perhaps the most decent boy in their year, notwithstanding his being a Mudblood and a Hufflepuff. Nor was he an idiot, as proven by his being in their NEWT Potions class.
And she had initiated the conversation, too, had she not? And hadn’t he shown resilience against her condescending and deriding tone?
Perhaps that was why she was a little unsure what to feel now.
She frowned at her pomegranate juice as she held it up in its glass vial to the light, making certain it had no pulp or rinds whatever, only pure, pure juice.
No, she was quite incensed. But was it because he ignored her or because he refused to be intimidated?
And what had Bellatrix’s being out of school to do with the matter? Why was there this gratefulness in her that her elder sister was gone from Hogwarts?
Days passed and they remained partners, they remained silent, and she remained ticked off, though she always found herself returning his smile every time he sat down at their table and every time he left.
It didn’t last, of course. One day, Lucius Malfoy, the conceit! ” actually felt it his duty because of his imminent connection to the family, to warn her away from any liaisons, however seemingly insignificant, with any riffraff.
Her indignation was so great she forgot she was on her way to class. She just stood there and glared at Lucius’s back until long after he had disappeared.
Hence, she arrived late in the dungeons. Professor Slughorn only waved her in and told her to take what she needed from the store cupboard. She immediately went that way after scanning the ingredients listed on the board. Scarab beetles, hawthorn berries, hawthorn bark, newt eyes, aconite roots, essence of Samhain, essence of Beltane, doxy legs, bezoar… There was not a stone left in the box.
This was all Lucius’s fault.
She re-emerged from the cupboard intending to ask Slughorn for a spare but the professor was gone. She went to her table and dumped her ingredients beside her cauldron with a vengeance.
“Don’t worry; we’ll wallop him with Bludgers tomorrow.”
She blinked and stared at Ted Tonks. He smiled at his roots as he chopped them and added, “I saw him stopping you outside the Great Hall.”
Andromeda sat down, nodding without realizing it.
“Make sure you wallop him good.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head to look at her. He studied her for two, three, four seconds, grinning, and then turned back to his aconite. Thankfully.
Another second and he would have seen her blush.
“Oh, here.” His hand was suddenly there, reaching for hers. Andromeda panicked. She drew back her hand so fast she almost fell over backward from her stool. He caught her hand and pulled her upright. He let go immediately almost as if he was burned by the contact as she was. The thanks which was at the tip of her tongue evaporated. To be replaced by fear.
For some reason, the fury Lucius had sparked in her earlier roared to life again. “Don’t you ever touch me again! Mudblood!”
The entire class heard her outburst, but for all Tonks cared, she could have shouted the school had a hundred and forty-two staircases. He only gave her another of those smiles “ this one definitely not bright, however “ and gestured to her fist.
She opened it and a bezoar innocently gleamed up at her from her palm.
Fear that their feelings may not be recognized or worse, not returned.
“Mr Tonks, you must give this a try or you will have no marks at all for this lesson! This is NEWT level! What did you expect, flobberworms?”
There was an outbreak of sniggering and taunting at Professor Kettleburn’s words. The Hufflepuffs glared at the Slytherins, but also shot indignant looks at their housemate, who had always been their tough guy until that day.
What was he finding so intimidating about the hippogriffs? Well, aside from the talons and that beak?
“I’m sorry, Professor. But I’ve had enough of bowing and being nice. She still would claw me open anyway, more than likely.”
His voice held so much conviction that Professor Kettleburn frowned but nodded. The class all stared at Ted Tonks, wondering where his philosophical drawling came from.
But there was one of them who wasn’t piqued. Instead, she looked stricken.
But one thing about human beings that puzzle me the most is their conscious effort to be remotely connected with their object of affection...
They unwittingly sat back to back in the Great Hall that evening.
The Great Hall was always a good place in which to ponder. In there, your thoughts were just muted enough by the chatter for you to be comfortable analysing them without being overwhelmed. And the food served to temporarily distract anyone from questioning you.
So Ted and Andromeda sat there, thinking, of each other.
After what seems like only a second of such luxury, however, they were simultaneously jarred away from their hearts into the mundane.
“Please, please, Andromeda!”
“You’re going with us tomorrow, aren’t you, Ted?”
They both took deep breaths before answering.
“Sirius, there are probably a handful of ways I can disobey the rules and smuggle a first year to Hogsmeade, but it just isn’t done, and nor have you presented me with anything that will persuade me to do otherwise.”
“Nah, I’m just communing tomorrow with the giant squid. He can probably teach me a thing or two about being detached.”
And then, hearing each other’s words, both paused.
“I’m not going anyway, Sirius. We can have a lovely time by the lake. It’s probably the last warm day of the year. I can help you with your homework “ just kidding! We’ll eat all the dainties in my hamper I can’t finish myself. They’re all still untouched in my trunk; Grandmother Rosier sent them. Is that okay?”
“It is. Fun, I mean. To join you guys. But I have stuff in my mind, you know.”
...even if it kills them slowly within.
The next day, they sat back to back again in the grass by the lake, this time knowingly, this time with more distance between them. They were safe from hearing each other, but not from seeing, they weren’t”
”and the temptation was heeded every time they subtly contrived to look. Oh, checking the squid, hearing a bee, or feeling mischief from the various loungers armed with wands...
The lakeside was always a good place to dream. The grass made you run your hands through it, making you wish it was somebody’s hair instead. The water glittered and sparkled in the sun, making you think of somebody’s eyes, and making you wish you’d see them scintillate like that while looking into your own. There was no noise to cruelly snatch you from your dream and the warmth of the sun made you drowsy, giving you an excuse for your flushed cheeks and dazed expression.
The lakeside was also a good place to pine. If your eyes watered, you could always say it was the brightness of the day... though in truth it was sorrow at the wishes being wishes and not yet, nor could be” it seemed ” realities.
Hints by lucilla_pauie
Chapter Endnotes: The quotes in italics are from one whole paragraph written by Sigmund Freud.