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“Staring at the ceiling with you
Oh, you don't ever say too much
And you don't really read into
My melancholia”
Wintertimes at Hogwarts were a particular favourite of Professor Andromeda Tonks. The snow-capped trusses of the castle would sparkle, winking up at her window in the fading lights of a crisp, wonderful school day. In her mind’s eye, a young Hufflepuff with sandy blonde waves would run around in the snow, building sculptures of monsters to enchant the younger students, or tossing snowballs at unsuspecting Slytherin girls.
Andromeda turned away from the window with an ache in her chest, and sat to rifle through student essays on her desk, charming each piece of battered parchment to lie flat. Midway through Danika Dartmouth’s unfortunate essay on acne-inducing charms, a scroll escaped the pile and rolled onto the floor, teasing her just out of her reach.
“ Accio ,” she muttered under her breath, and the scroll flew into her waiting palm.
A frantic knock came at the door and she tucked a stray curl behind her ear, sighing. “Come on in!”
The door was pushed open more hesitantly than the knock implied, followed by a timid mop of blonde hair. “Professor Tonks?”
Andromeda’s face softened and she pushed aside the pesky scrolls, quite ready for a distraction. “Mister Lockwood, what can I do for you?” She flicked her wrist to pull out a chair for the small third year Hufflepuff.
Over the years as Hogwarts’ Head of Slytherin and Charms teacher, Andromeda had found her office no longer functioned as her own space. It was a refuge for students, and she didn’t mind it one bit—on the contrary, she had extra cushy armchairs added around her personal fireplace, and was known among the students as the teacher with the secret stash of hot cocoa if you asked nicely.
Georgie Lockwood walked hurriedly in, another boy trailing behind him. Andromeda recognized the Ravenclaw fourth year as one of her stellar Charms students, Keegan McLaud.
“Boys, welc — oh, dear, have a seat now, Mister McLaud!” Andromeda jumped to her feet and hurried over to the pair. Keegan was ghostly white and trembling, clutching tightly to Georgie’s hand. Together, they guided the Ravenclaw to a seat by the fire.
The older witch’s brows knit together as she surveyed the faces of each boy. Georgie’s brown eyes searched her face with an earnestness not unlike her late husband and her heart twinged again.
“Mister Lockwood, did you call for Madam Pomfrey?”
She had barely finished the question when the blonde began to shake his head vigorously.
“No, professor — I mean, I could, but it won’t help. He’s having a spell. He just needs a safe place to sit for a moment — and I thought — well, I thought —” Before he could spiral out, Andromeda set a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“I see. Why don’t you sit here with Mister Mclaud and I’ll make the three of us a cup of chocolate?”
Relief flooded his face, and he nodded, sinking into the chair beside Keegan. He ran circles over the other boy’s hand with a thumb and whispered soothing words.
Andromeda stepped away and charmed her kettle to boil. She set out three mugs, making herself busy, but she kept an eye on the pair of boys. Keegan’s colour was already returning, and he seemed to relax in the chair. She smiled to herself, noticing the tender look Georgie was giving to his friend. Ted had given her that look… She stopped herself midthought and breathed deeply. It would not do to dwell like this — that was not what she was here for.
The witch crossed the room and set a mug in each of the boys’ small hands. “There now, that’ll warm you both right up.”
~~
“All they keep asking me
Is if I'm gonna be your bride
The only kind of girl they see
Is a one night or a wife”
Warm, gentle fingers worked her shoulders, releasing the tension that had built up over the week. Andromeda let her head fall to one side with a contented sigh.
“You are wonderful, Ro,” she breathed.
Aurora placed a gentle kiss on the top of Andromeda’s head and moved around to join her by the fire. The flickering flames danced before the latter’s eyes and she sank back into her chair, allowing her thoughts to be overrun by the tongues of flame and the dark lavender scent that followed her partner everywhere.
If they were like other couples, maybe Aurora would have asked her what was on her mind. Perhaps, she would have pried, or found something to discuss as a distraction from the bothers of life.
But Aurora was not other people, and they were not other couples.
Aurora Sinistra was contemplative, attentive… they didn’t have to speak in order for Andromeda to feel the calming love that emanated from her partner.
Andromeda’s grey eyes followed the professor of Astronomy as she lithely pulled her knees to her chest to curl up in her seat, plucking an embroidery project out of thin air.
“What are you working on?” Andromeda asked quietly.
Aurora smiled and waved the cloth in the air. “New project. A pillow cushion.”
Andromeda chuckled softly. Yes, that was Ro, alright. She never worked on the same thing — in fact, Andromeda was quite sure she never finished a darn thing. But it brought her joy. Andromeda’s favourite thing was to watch Aurora kick her legs excitedly as she shared her new project ideas and shopped the little shops of Diagon Alley for supplies.
“Tell me about this one,” she prompted, opening the door for the other woman to dive into details. While she did so, Andromeda let her mind wander back to the fireplace and the boys from the afternoon.
“You’ll like this one, Andy,” Aurora promised. Her cheeks dimpled as she continued, “It’s the galaxy ‘Andromeda’.”
That caught her attention. The Slytherin witch grinned. “Why, that one happens to be my favourite!” she teased.
“I don’t know,” countered Aurora, “I quite like the Milky Way. It happens to be the one I live in, you know.”
Andromeda chuckled and nodded surreptitiously. “I do. You only talk about it constantly.”
“And you love it.”
“I do.”
They fell into an easy silence, the soft whisper of needle and thread the only interruption to Andromeda’s swirling thoughts. Was Keegan alright? Did he have anxiety very often? Maybe she would bring it up to Madam Pomfrey just in case. And Georgie — the boy’s heart was so big. How Hufflepuff of him to dote on another. How like Ted. He clearly cared for the Ravenclaw…Was it the early sparks of young affection? Perhaps she was reading into it…Really her students’ business was their own and she had no need being a busybody and yet…Was she doing enough? Did the students of Hogwarts know that she was a safe space for them? This was her calling , her purpose, surely —
“Andromeda.”
Andromeda looked down at her hand, now covered by Aurora’s dark one. She glanced up into her partner’s amber eyes.
Aurora set down her embroidery and moved forward on the chair. “You’re thinking in circles, love.”
Andromeda let out a heavy breath, anchored in Aurora’s gaze. She was right, of course. She always seemed to know exactly what Andromeda was thinking.
She nodded slowly. “I was,” she admitted.
Aurora smiled her gentle, lovely smile, and touched a hand to Andromeda’s cheek.
“I miss Ted,” Andromeda breathed. She watched Aurora’s face carefully, afraid that the revelation would hurt the woman before her.
Aurora nodded, her thumb moving in gentle strokes along Andromeda’s damp cheekbone.
“I know, love.”
Her chest ached. “I’m…I’m so sorry.” The hand on her cheek stilled and Andromeda held her breath.
“Don’t say that,” Aurora murmured. A couple of curls fell loose from her bun as she shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Andy.”
Andromeda’s throat felt dry as the tears fell more freely. “You deserve all of me. This…This isn’t fair of me, to only have half a heart left after so long. You deserve better.” Andromeda searched Aurora’s eyes. Did she know how earnestly she meant it?
“You loved him. You still love him, and you always will, Ann. I could never want for more of you than you have to give. The half you have to share with me? It’s enough.”
She wanted to believe that…but she couldn’t. If she were enough, her students wouldn’t struggle like this. If she were enough, Dora —
“You,” Aurora said with finality, “are enough.”
Andromeda felt her partner’s thumb run across the silver band of her wedding ring. Her deepest pain.
“How can I be enough if I can’t marry you?” she let out a pained sob, feeling the emotions she’d been carrying spill out as tears. “I can’t let go of him, Ro. I can’t. I just — can’t.”
Aurora knelt before Andromeda, their foreheads pressed together. Her warmth filled the mourning witch.
“Andy, marriage is not love. Love is not that limited. I love what we have. I do not need marriage — Merlin, a notary, to make that enough. You are enough. More than enough for me.”
Andromeda smiled and leaned forward to press her lips gently to Aurora’s.
“I am so in love with you, Ro.”
“Ditto,” she whispered back with a smile.
~~
“I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me
So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say”