Another Night (Ted/Andromeda)

Disclaimer: No - I am not JK Rowling - I'm not her publisher, and if I were making her money, I'd have a roaring fire going right now. No copyright infringement intended, and if anyone asked, they'd get a tin of biscuits and thanks for reading this. - DG

Theodore Tonks stood at the door to his home, feeling the flutter in his stomach. He had been married years, chasing and catching the love of his life, and tonight, he was going to break her heart, possibly for the last time. The flowers would say I'm sorry once she looked closer at them.

He adjusted his jacket, looking at the knocker on the front door to their modest cottage outside of Cardiff. Moonlight from the full moon shown down on their door, showing the placard on the front door: Riverstone, residence of the Tonks – Ted and Andromeda.

The day she declared she was going to marry Ted – and not succumbing to the arranged marriage her parents insisted she go through – was the day she was kicked from her home, disowned from the family she wasn't fond of, denigrated from the sibling she couldn't stand, and given a cold shoulder from the sister she loved most of all.

From those hard months - eloping to a small chapel in Blackpool, married in secret by a Bishop late at night, to finding out months later that she was pregnant, and the only family she could tell was her baby sister, who wrote back admonishing her for betraying her family - came a love that endured so much heartache. Now, thirty years later, he was going to leave her heartbroken tonight. p

Blast the Ministry for imposing the Muggle registration laws. Marriage trumps pureblood mania, the sods. Blast them for passing this one.

He tipped his wand to open the lock on the front door. He stepped past the threshold, smelling of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. He loved how home smelled. It was warmth, of love, and indulgence in baked goodies, courtesy of his wife who had to learn the domestic side of life when she was kicked out of her own family.

Ted hung his jacked on the hat rack behind the door, keeping the flowers fresh for her. It wasn't her birthday or their anniversary, but it was sure to be memorable nonetheless. He stepped into the kitchen, and there stood his wife of 30 years, looking like a rose in full bloom. She was of taller than average height, her mouse brown hair gently waving while she worked in the kitchen. Her posture was strong, and her carriage was refined, in public or in their kitchen. Age and childbirth had spread out her hips, and she had gray in her hair from raising Dora – but everything else about her was high-born pureblood lineage.

Andromeda Black Tonks turned around, and smiled at her husband. She was wearing her summer dress, yellow with blues and browns and green, looking like she stepped out at a masquerade ball. The look was ruined by the apron she wore, puce green covered with splotches of white.

Ted stepped up, putting the bouquet of flowers in the vase on their modest table, preferring the scent of his wife's hair. She was home, and had been his amortentia since their class with Slughorn years past. She threaded her hands through his, feeling the strength in them while he peppered her face with small kisses.

"Flowers for me, love? What is the special occasion?"

"Well, a seller on the corner in Whitehall was going to throw them away, so I paid two pounds for them to bring to you. I know you like lilies and orchids."

She smelled them, finding the flowers a nice surprise. She turned to her husband, looking tired after a long day at the ministry. "Long day dear?" she asked quietly from the stove.

He stepped up behind her, threading his arms around hers, crushing her to his taller frame. "I just had a bad day at the office, and in need of my wife's love and cooking."

Andromeda turned around to her husband, seeing the sadness in his eyes. "What's wrong Ted? I've not seen you this down since the day following the return of You-know-Who at the Ministry two years ago."

Ted caressed his wife's face, looking at the soft wrinkles at her eyes, the laugh lines around her mouth, and the smattering of grey in her hair. She might look similar to her sisters, but the years had been considerably more kind to his wife, even if they weren't as wealthy or socially connected as the rest of her sisters.

"Ted, please, talk to me. Tell me what you are thinking."

He pulled her closer, catching a whiff of his wife's delicate perfume – one that he bought for her on their last trip to the Continent, stopping in Paris for a weekend. He found the smell enticing, nuzzling her ear with his nose, making goose pimples on her skin.

Andromeda stepped back, looking up at her husband's grey eyes. She searched his face, trying to find clues to his strange behavior. Quiet Ted was the one that scared her the most – when he wouldn't rant or rave or complain about his job at the ministry. Ted not talking about politics, or schemes at the ministry was frightening. But she was also well-bred and a higher standard – she never faltered.

She stepped closer, finding the look in his face that told her what he needed – he needed love, attention, affection, and solace. Andromeda looked up at her husband, her paramour, and threaded her hands into his own. A gentle squeeze and she was pulling him to their bedroom, and away from the troubles of the day.

They closed the door – a long held habit for having a precocious daughter who was preternaturally clumsy – and looked at one another. Seconds passed, and he was still silent. She stepped back, pulling the wand from her apron, and lit the candles in their room, giving some illumination.

"You look so tired, love. Let's lie down and let me comfort you tonight."

He smiled, looking bereft. "You always comfort me, if only for a night."

She smiled. "You say that every night, Ted."

"I know – and yet I wake up and there you are, snoring lightly next to me in our bed."

"We made this bed, didn't we?"

"We did - so let's go lie in it."

She kissed him, pulling him into her on the bed.

"Another night, Ted?"

"You're the one who would run back to your family."

She kissed him tenderly, the years turning from lust to love to affection to comfort to appreciation. "And 30 years of nights, feeling like a million, and yet here we are, staying another night."

He kissed her back, feeling the bones of the corset under her dress, supporting her ample bosom under the linen of her dress. He ran his hand down her side, feeling the curves and softness that the years afforded. He worked his hand down to her hip, squeezing harder than he had in years. She brought her leg to tangle in his own, feeling the bones on his hips among other places.

He broke the kiss, looking down at his wife snuggled into the bedclothes. She smiled, and pulled him back to her, turning the soft kisses frantic, passionate like they had when they were newly married.

"Please, Ted, make love to me."

He gave her another searing kiss, leaving her breathless. "My lady's wish is my pleasure."

Andromeda was chilled, having fallen asleep earlier without putting on any other attire. She rolled over in their bed, finding Ted's side cold. She opened her eyes, and found only his pillow. On his pillow was a note, in his flowing handwriting.

Dearest Andy,

By the morrow, you will get the morning Daily Prophet and see the terrible news. I couldn't stand inflicting that torment on you – so I left. I love you dearly, but I won't see the sods pester you for the choices we made. In the vase are Forget –Me-Nots, charmed to stay fresh until I return. I will return when Harry changes the world. Stay strong my love, and keep the hearth burning for me. p

Love,

Ted