Blackbird

Chapter 11

"And did you see what that Hufflepuff girl was wearing? Atrocious!" Marina Warrington said.

"It certainly would've been a lot more enjoyable if the younger students hadn't been invited," Claire Zabini said, examining her hails. "But Andromeda had a good time, didn't you, Andromeda?"

Andromeda didn't respond, choosing instead to focus her attention on her sculpture. Professor Flitwick had the brilliant idea to have them practice their last few weeks of lessons by creating sculptures using magic. It was a good plan, in theory, except most people couldn't draw a dog, much like sculpt one with magic. Andromeda was determined not to be one of those people. And she didn't want to think about the dance, or what kind of time she'd had, or the Hufflepuff who was sitting a few seats in front of her.

Finally, mercifully, class ended. Ted got up quickly, and after a quick farewell to his friends, scurried toward the door. Andromeda watched him for a minute. They hadn't spoken since that Saturday night, they hadn't even looked at each other, but she could still taste his kiss on her lips. A part of her wanted to pretend it never happened, but she couldn't do that. She'd kissed another man, while she was engaged. That wasn't something you could just ignore.

And there was the part of her that couldn't forget Ted's kiss even if she wanted too.

Sighing, she pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and quickly scribbled on it. She folded it up, so no one could see its contents and then hurried out the door.

To say Ted was surprised when she came scurrying up behind him was an understatement. He near jumped out of his skin, his face flushing. Andromeda scarcely allowed herself to look at him though and she handed him the slip of paper. He looked up at her, and she couldn't help but meet his gaze. His lips opened like he was going to say something, but she quickly backed away before he could.

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Hogwarts was creepy at night. Despite everything else he could or should be thinking about, he couldn't help but notice the way the suits of armor looked like deformed spiders in the shadows. Though honestly, they were far less frightening than what might await him at his destination, if he had any idea what lay at his destination. Her note has only said Trophy room and midnight.

He was still fuming at her. Fuming at her for so many reasons he could scarcely keep track. The way she'd acted at the dance, like what had happened between them was his fault. He wasn't then one going around kissing pureblood prats and then getting all defensive about it. He wasn't the one lying through his teeth to everyone and anyone. He was even still angry that she'd stopped him from punching Rabastan last week. Granted, that would've brought the snakes on him for sure, but getting turned into a wombat was better than the empty, hollowness that was knawing away at his insides right now. He couldn't forget the way she'd curled into Rabastan that day he kissed her by the lake. How could he? It was like have a corkscrew hammered through his gut. You didn't just forget pain like that.

Ted had never liked Rabastan, but not for the reasons he disliked the Bellatrix Blacks and Evan Rosiers of the world. Rabastan didn't hex people for the heck of it, even if he was a self-absorbed little prick. Because of his stunning good looks many of the girls, even his two best friends, got faint-hearted around him. He hadn't thought Andromeda was one of those girls, but clearly, he didn't know her as well as he thought he did. It was bad enough his friend Lorie had a crush on him, did he have to take Andromeda too? And why did she have to let him? Didn't she know who Rabastan was? He didn't love her, he couldn't, not the way Ted did.

He stopped. He hadn't been willing to admit it, even when watching her with Rabastan ripped him up inside. Even when he'd kissed her. Even when her dismissal after their kiss felt like dying. It was only when he finally managed to calm down, to breathe, that he was forced to face it.