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nest_of_spiders Day 6
Apr. 9th, 2007 10:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: A Feast of Fools (6/14)
Wordcount: 1308
Date: 1972
Pairing: Ted/Andromeda (eventually)
Rating: PG (for language)
Prompt: Something's here, but something's gone...
Disclaimer: If you recognise it from the books, it's not really mine to play with.
1 2 3 4 5 6
Now spring had slipped out of the shadow of winter, the evenings were stretching out again, hinting at summer. Andromeda looked up from her books for a moment to look out of the window at the long shadows stretching towards the forest. The greenhouse roofs gleamed and she could see the breeze running over the forest, lifting the spring-bright boughs in a slow rise and fall.
She had cracked the window open earlier and she could still hear distant shouts from outside. She ignored them. With the younger years running wild, she had abandoned most of her own lessons and was trying to fit private study around keeping order.
The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw prefects were on patrol at the moment, so she had locked herself into the study beside the Prefects' room that she shared with Tonks. Although the stone floors were cold, she had put the fire out and transfigured some of Tonks' quills into slippers. She was sick of Floo-orientated mischief.
The breeze was getting cold, so she rose to close the window. The view was a little dimmer through glass, and she found herself fighting off the urge to press her forehead against the window and just watch the evening fade. Shrugging it off, she turned back towards her desk in time to see the portraits around the door burst into chaos.
Portly old wizards and stern young witches in wimples went scrambling to the sides of their portraits as a knight in full armour charged through their pictures, bellowing, “An attack! A cowardly attack! To arms!”
“Sir Cadogan?” Andromeda said. “Sir Cadogan?”
The door rattled as someone tried to open it from the other side.
“Who's there?” Andromeda called, picking up her wand. “Tonks?”
“It's Alice! Let us in!”
She unlocked the door quickly and gasped as Alice and Tonks stumbled in. Both were bloodied and he was leaning on her shoulder, his face pale.
“What happened?” Andromeda gasped, darting over to help them.
“Jinx,” Alice snapped. Her eyes were wide with worry and her hair had slipped out of its clip to straggle around her face. “Ted took the worst of it.”
“Get a fire lit,” Andromeda said, wrapping her arm around Tonks' waist and pulling him towards the couch. Alice relinquished him to stagger towards the fireplace and Andromeda swayed for balance as she took his full weight.
“I can walk,” he gasped.
“Course you can,” Andromeda said, towing him sideways. “Get the Floo up, Alice.”
“I'm fine,” he insisted, trying to pull away. “I- fuck!” He grabbed at his arm, curling around it with a cry as his fist clenched into her robes.
Andromeda flung her other arm around him and backed them both into the couch. A push had him dropping down, still shuddering. His fist was still knotted into her sleeve so she was dragged down with him to kneel beside the couch.
“What's wrong?” she said, twisting round to look at his arm. His hands were bleeding, but the blood was crusted on his wrists, thick and black. When she touched it, it crumbled into dust.
“Tonks,” she said, her shock turning cold and hard. “You're bleeding mud.”
“What?” Alice said on a breath, spinning away from the fire.
“Get that lit!” Andromeda snapped, flicking out her wand. “Finite Incantatem.”
Tonks flinched again, biting back more swearwords. “Didn't, fuck, work.”
“Who hit you?” she asked, looking down. His fingers looked grey. If his blood was really turning into mud-
“Never saw them. Behind us.”
Alice hissed in triumph as the fire flared up. “Floo powder, Black?”
“On the mantelpiece. Did they miss you?”
Alice shook her head, scrabbling the lid off the jar. “Blasted us both in the back. Winded me, but they sent Ted into that old suit of armour on the corner.” She got the lid off and hurled powder into the Floo. “Hospital wing!”
“You cut your hand on something?” Andromeda asked sharply.
“Yes. Fuck. Can't feel my fingers. Wouldn't put a cursed statue in the corridor.”
“Oh, he would,” Andromeda said, not pushing at the puzzle too hard because if she did she'd lose the solution. Instead she busied herself with pulling his outer robes off. Pomfrey would need to get at his arm.
“I could get the wrong id- shit.”
She patted his shoulder absently and felt the answer click into place. It was the work of a moment to grab his shoulders hard enough to roll him so his arm dangled off the couch, though she wasn't expecting his whole weight to come crashing into her shoulder. She shoved his legs back as he yelped something incoherent into her neck.
His ear was by her mouth so she lowered her voice to say, “Shut up. I think you've been poisoned. Now get out of my way so I can get to my wand.”
He lifted his head, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“Constringe! she murmured and smiled as his arm frosted over.
“Bloody hell! Frostbite!”
“New arms are easy,” she told him, tipping him away gently. “If your heart turns to mud, that's it. Stay still.” She didn't know a spell to make bandages, so she tugged the broad ribbon out of her hair .
“Tourniquet?” Tonks asked. “Won't your spell work?”
“A back up never hurt,” she said, trying to shake her loose hair out of her way.
She jumped when a warm hand slid around her cheek to scoop it back. “What makes you think it's poison?”
“Logical deduction,” she said, tightening the ribbon around his upper arm. “An alien concept to a Gryffindor, I'm sure.”
“About as alien as explanations are to Slytherins,” he said mildly.
She snorted, eyeing her work dubiously. He'd stopped convulsing, so she'd done something right. If they were lucky it would hold. “You were both hit by the same hex, but you cut yourself open. The spell seems to be centred on that cut. Most cursed objects would work on all your extremities in order to reduce the chance of you casting a counterspell, and if you make one slur on my bloodline I'll poison you properly, Ted Tonks, so stop looking at me like that.”
“I wasn't going to say a word,” he assured her, and the ripple of amusement in his voice made her look away.
“In addition, poison is a cautious weapon, and as I imagine most of your enemies are-”
“Devious Slytherins who'd gladly see a muggleborn dead?” he suggested.
She wished she could argue with him, but she knew better. Blood mattered and there were always young fools in the world who would try to turn that knowledge into action. She would have to watch her house carefully over the next few days, until she could identify the perpetrators and take appropriate action. If it was one of the younger ones, it should be enough to make them realise the end of their nastiness could have been murder. If it was one of the older ones...
...she hoped it wasn't.
The hand in her hair shifted to cup her cheek. “Andromeda?”
“I apologise on their behalf,” she said quietly. “We are not uncivilised.”
“Unless you did it, it's not your responsibility to apologise.”
That made her laugh. “The actions of one reflect on us all.”
“Slytherins,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Gryffindors,” she said back in the same tone.
Behind them the fire flared up. Andromeda untangled herself and went to help Madam Pomfrey.
It was not until she was alone again that she let herself sit down. Now, ridiculously, her hands began to shake and she closed her eyes to gather strength.
And tried not to take comfort in the faint ghost of his touch on her cheek.
Wordcount: 1308
Date: 1972
Pairing: Ted/Andromeda (eventually)
Rating: PG (for language)
Prompt: Something's here, but something's gone...
Disclaimer: If you recognise it from the books, it's not really mine to play with.
Now spring had slipped out of the shadow of winter, the evenings were stretching out again, hinting at summer. Andromeda looked up from her books for a moment to look out of the window at the long shadows stretching towards the forest. The greenhouse roofs gleamed and she could see the breeze running over the forest, lifting the spring-bright boughs in a slow rise and fall.
She had cracked the window open earlier and she could still hear distant shouts from outside. She ignored them. With the younger years running wild, she had abandoned most of her own lessons and was trying to fit private study around keeping order.
The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw prefects were on patrol at the moment, so she had locked herself into the study beside the Prefects' room that she shared with Tonks. Although the stone floors were cold, she had put the fire out and transfigured some of Tonks' quills into slippers. She was sick of Floo-orientated mischief.
The breeze was getting cold, so she rose to close the window. The view was a little dimmer through glass, and she found herself fighting off the urge to press her forehead against the window and just watch the evening fade. Shrugging it off, she turned back towards her desk in time to see the portraits around the door burst into chaos.
Portly old wizards and stern young witches in wimples went scrambling to the sides of their portraits as a knight in full armour charged through their pictures, bellowing, “An attack! A cowardly attack! To arms!”
“Sir Cadogan?” Andromeda said. “Sir Cadogan?”
The door rattled as someone tried to open it from the other side.
“Who's there?” Andromeda called, picking up her wand. “Tonks?”
“It's Alice! Let us in!”
She unlocked the door quickly and gasped as Alice and Tonks stumbled in. Both were bloodied and he was leaning on her shoulder, his face pale.
“What happened?” Andromeda gasped, darting over to help them.
“Jinx,” Alice snapped. Her eyes were wide with worry and her hair had slipped out of its clip to straggle around her face. “Ted took the worst of it.”
“Get a fire lit,” Andromeda said, wrapping her arm around Tonks' waist and pulling him towards the couch. Alice relinquished him to stagger towards the fireplace and Andromeda swayed for balance as she took his full weight.
“I can walk,” he gasped.
“Course you can,” Andromeda said, towing him sideways. “Get the Floo up, Alice.”
“I'm fine,” he insisted, trying to pull away. “I- fuck!” He grabbed at his arm, curling around it with a cry as his fist clenched into her robes.
Andromeda flung her other arm around him and backed them both into the couch. A push had him dropping down, still shuddering. His fist was still knotted into her sleeve so she was dragged down with him to kneel beside the couch.
“What's wrong?” she said, twisting round to look at his arm. His hands were bleeding, but the blood was crusted on his wrists, thick and black. When she touched it, it crumbled into dust.
“Tonks,” she said, her shock turning cold and hard. “You're bleeding mud.”
“What?” Alice said on a breath, spinning away from the fire.
“Get that lit!” Andromeda snapped, flicking out her wand. “Finite Incantatem.”
Tonks flinched again, biting back more swearwords. “Didn't, fuck, work.”
“Who hit you?” she asked, looking down. His fingers looked grey. If his blood was really turning into mud-
“Never saw them. Behind us.”
Alice hissed in triumph as the fire flared up. “Floo powder, Black?”
“On the mantelpiece. Did they miss you?”
Alice shook her head, scrabbling the lid off the jar. “Blasted us both in the back. Winded me, but they sent Ted into that old suit of armour on the corner.” She got the lid off and hurled powder into the Floo. “Hospital wing!”
“You cut your hand on something?” Andromeda asked sharply.
“Yes. Fuck. Can't feel my fingers. Wouldn't put a cursed statue in the corridor.”
“Oh, he would,” Andromeda said, not pushing at the puzzle too hard because if she did she'd lose the solution. Instead she busied herself with pulling his outer robes off. Pomfrey would need to get at his arm.
“I could get the wrong id- shit.”
She patted his shoulder absently and felt the answer click into place. It was the work of a moment to grab his shoulders hard enough to roll him so his arm dangled off the couch, though she wasn't expecting his whole weight to come crashing into her shoulder. She shoved his legs back as he yelped something incoherent into her neck.
His ear was by her mouth so she lowered her voice to say, “Shut up. I think you've been poisoned. Now get out of my way so I can get to my wand.”
He lifted his head, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“Constringe! she murmured and smiled as his arm frosted over.
“Bloody hell! Frostbite!”
“New arms are easy,” she told him, tipping him away gently. “If your heart turns to mud, that's it. Stay still.” She didn't know a spell to make bandages, so she tugged the broad ribbon out of her hair .
“Tourniquet?” Tonks asked. “Won't your spell work?”
“A back up never hurt,” she said, trying to shake her loose hair out of her way.
She jumped when a warm hand slid around her cheek to scoop it back. “What makes you think it's poison?”
“Logical deduction,” she said, tightening the ribbon around his upper arm. “An alien concept to a Gryffindor, I'm sure.”
“About as alien as explanations are to Slytherins,” he said mildly.
She snorted, eyeing her work dubiously. He'd stopped convulsing, so she'd done something right. If they were lucky it would hold. “You were both hit by the same hex, but you cut yourself open. The spell seems to be centred on that cut. Most cursed objects would work on all your extremities in order to reduce the chance of you casting a counterspell, and if you make one slur on my bloodline I'll poison you properly, Ted Tonks, so stop looking at me like that.”
“I wasn't going to say a word,” he assured her, and the ripple of amusement in his voice made her look away.
“In addition, poison is a cautious weapon, and as I imagine most of your enemies are-”
“Devious Slytherins who'd gladly see a muggleborn dead?” he suggested.
She wished she could argue with him, but she knew better. Blood mattered and there were always young fools in the world who would try to turn that knowledge into action. She would have to watch her house carefully over the next few days, until she could identify the perpetrators and take appropriate action. If it was one of the younger ones, it should be enough to make them realise the end of their nastiness could have been murder. If it was one of the older ones...
...she hoped it wasn't.
The hand in her hair shifted to cup her cheek. “Andromeda?”
“I apologise on their behalf,” she said quietly. “We are not uncivilised.”
“Unless you did it, it's not your responsibility to apologise.”
That made her laugh. “The actions of one reflect on us all.”
“Slytherins,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Gryffindors,” she said back in the same tone.
Behind them the fire flared up. Andromeda untangled herself and went to help Madam Pomfrey.
It was not until she was alone again that she let herself sit down. Now, ridiculously, her hands began to shake and she closed her eyes to gather strength.
And tried not to take comfort in the faint ghost of his touch on her cheek.
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Date: 2007-04-10 06:29 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment :)