starfishstar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starfishstar) wrote2013-06-07 03:50 pm
starfishstar) wrote2013-06-07 03:50 pm
Entry tags:
Saying Yes, chapter 10
SAYING YES chapter 10
Summary: At 17, Andromeda Black thought being in love was everything. At 57, Andromeda Tonks knew better. Yet the first time Kingsley Shacklebolt asked her out, she surprised herself by saying yes.
Characters: Andromeda Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Teddy Lupin and ensemble (Harry! Ginny! Molly! Kingsley's kids! All the Potters and Weasleys!)
Warnings: None
Chapters: 15
Story:
CHAPTER TEN
For the life of her, Andromeda couldn't understand why, once every generation or so, this push came to expand Aurors' powers. Did the wizarding community never learn from its mistakes?
It wasn't even wartime, when the impulse to give Dark wizard catchers carte blanche would at least be understandable, if still ill advised. Yet here they were again, with a minor string of incidents in the south of the country making everyone nervous and a proposal before the Wizengamot that would allow Aurors to make arrests on the basis of suspicion rather than evidence, then to send their suspects away to Azkaban until such time as the Aurors had collected enough evidence for a trial.
This time, though, Andromeda sat on the Wizengamot herself, rather than behind a desk in a windowless office as a lowly assistant scribbling away at minor bits of draft legislation that would likely never make their way into the final law.
On the other hand, it didn't make it any easier having to hear the insipid arguments in person.
Home from the latest round of deliberations, Andromeda found herself pacing back and forth through her house. Even after years of practice at keeping her temper, wilful obtuseness still always made her see red.
"Andromeda?"
Andromeda whirled toward the fireplace, in the sitting room where her restless steps had led her, to see Kingsley's concerned face in the grate.
"You seemed upset after the session today and I didn't get a chance to talk to you," he said. "May I come over?"
Andromeda bit back a sigh, because the last thing she wanted was to end up taking out her bad temper on Kingsley. But she said, "Yes, all right."
"I'm coming through," he said. His head disappeared for a moment, then the green flames flared and Kingsley stepped out of the fireplace, brushing a dusting of ash from his robes.
Andromeda gave him a rueful smile. "I may not be the best of company right now."
"And I was thinking that I wouldn't be able to sleep well until I knew what was bothering you," he countered. "It's fine."
"Tea?" she asked.
"Yes, please."
They took their teacups to the back patio, since the evenings were finally warm enough for sitting outside.
"The debate today over Gudgeon's proposed law upset you," Kingsley said, once they were settled.
"Yes."
"Why? I mean, beyond the obvious, which is that it's ill-conceived and won't actually make people any safer?"
"The Aurors who put my cousin in Azkaban didn't care much about whether he got a trial, either," Andromeda said, and understanding flared in Kingsley's eyes. "He spent twelve years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, not to mention the rest of his life on the run, all because no one bothered to back up the initial charges with hard evidence."
"Sirius was a good man," Kingsley said, but that wasn't Andromeda's point at all.
"Sirius was an innocent man. This law is about putting possibly innocent people in prison until the justice system gets around to building a case against them."
"For what it's worth, I doubt the proposal will pass. There are enough cool heads on the Wizengamot to look at this reasonably. And I expect you're going to make a very convincing argument against it when you speak tomorrow."
"I hope so." Andromeda glanced over at Kingsley. "What happened to Sirius, you know, I don't hold that against Aurors as a whole. Many of the people I love most have been Aurors, as you know, and I have faith that most of the others, too, are honest and brave. But attempts to give anyone unlimited power make me very nervous. And the blindness that allows people to think it's a good idea is frightening. Are we really so willing to forget the lessons of the past?"
In response, Kingsley asked, "Still working on that history book?"
She nodded. "I'm almost done with the first draft. Ackworth, my editor at the Mirror, has said he would be interested in publishing it."
"That's wonderful! Can I read it?"
"Now? The first draft?"
"Whatever draft you'll let me read," he said, eyes twinkling.
"Let me finish the last sections I'm working on now and I'll let you read it," she promised. "I daresay you'll learn a few things about me you never knew, as I can't seem to write about history without it becoming quite a personal history."
"I'll look forward to it," Kingsley said, and Andromeda knew that was true.
They sat in silence for a bit, then Andromeda said, "I tried, you know. Early on, during the First War, I tried to do it all the proper way, work for change, but do it within the Ministry. That's what Ted and I really believed, then, that prejudice was fought with laws, not vigilante groups. We knew Sirius was mixed up in something – we didn't know it was the Order, exactly – and we didn't approve. And where did that get me? I ended up so disillusioned with the Ministry that I simply gave up and left. And despite my cautious example, I raised a daughter who always ran toward danger instead of away. We were too idealistic, Ted and I. We really believed things would work out if we could just convince everyone to play by the rules."
Andromeda looked up to find Kingsley studying her. "And what do you believe now?" he asked.
"I suppose all I can say for sure is that I gave up too soon back then. I still believe it's worth working for change."
Kingsley set down his empty teacup and reached for her hand. "I'm glad you were willing to come back to the Ministry. The Wizengamot needs you."
"And I'm glad you joined the Wizengamot as well, after your second term ended. Not least because it means you're not out there on active Auror duty." She suppressed a shiver at that thought, caring for Kingsley as much as did and having to worry each evening that this might be the day he never came home from work.
He only smiled. "Are we counting our blessings now? I'm glad joining the Wizengamot led me to you."
She smiled back. "Now you're just being silly."
Kingsley raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers.
He stayed over that night, so he was there when Andromeda started awake in the early hours of the morning from a nightmare.
"I'm here," Kingsley said, reaching for her even as she gasped and woke.
Andromeda struggled to sit up. "It's fine – just a dream –"
Kingsley reached for his wand and Conjured a glass, then murmured, "Aguamenti."
Andromeda drank gratefully. She hadn't had a nightmare like that in years.
The dreams had been frequent, in those first years after losing Ted and Nymphadora. Andromeda would dream something terrible had happened – Nymphadora injured on an Auror mission, Ted cornered by Bellatrix, Sirius' hot temper landing him in a duel he couldn't win – and wake to the relief that it was only a dream.
Then, after that split second of peace, she would remember the truth, that all of them were gone.
Kingsley leaned over and stroked her hair.
"I used to dream about terrible things happening to Nymphadora," she said. "But this time it was Teddy. Already I can't remember exactly… It was something about Metamorphmagi, I think. Oh, it was something stupid, they were rounding up Metamorphmagi and taking them to Azkaban – it didn't make sense even in the dream."
Kingsley's voice was a calming rumble. "You know no one will ever take Teddy away from you as long as I'm around."
"I told you it didn't make sense." She sighed and squeezed his arm. "But thank you for the sentiment. And sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"I don't mind," Kingsley answered easily, and Andromeda allowed herself to be pulled back into the comforting curve of his arm. She still found herself amazed at this comfort – a man in her bed, a partner. Even the physical size of Kingsley was reassuring. Ted had been like that too, a big, solid presence, something to hold onto.
In the morning, with the illogical fears of the night fled and Kingsley smiling at her over poached eggs, Andromeda felt strong enough to take on any number of ill-conceived Wizengamot laws.
– – – – –
(continue to chapter 11)
Summary: At 17, Andromeda Black thought being in love was everything. At 57, Andromeda Tonks knew better. Yet the first time Kingsley Shacklebolt asked her out, she surprised herself by saying yes.
Characters: Andromeda Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Teddy Lupin and ensemble (Harry! Ginny! Molly! Kingsley's kids! All the Potters and Weasleys!)
Warnings: None
Chapters: 15
Story:
CHAPTER TEN
For the life of her, Andromeda couldn't understand why, once every generation or so, this push came to expand Aurors' powers. Did the wizarding community never learn from its mistakes?
It wasn't even wartime, when the impulse to give Dark wizard catchers carte blanche would at least be understandable, if still ill advised. Yet here they were again, with a minor string of incidents in the south of the country making everyone nervous and a proposal before the Wizengamot that would allow Aurors to make arrests on the basis of suspicion rather than evidence, then to send their suspects away to Azkaban until such time as the Aurors had collected enough evidence for a trial.
This time, though, Andromeda sat on the Wizengamot herself, rather than behind a desk in a windowless office as a lowly assistant scribbling away at minor bits of draft legislation that would likely never make their way into the final law.
On the other hand, it didn't make it any easier having to hear the insipid arguments in person.
Home from the latest round of deliberations, Andromeda found herself pacing back and forth through her house. Even after years of practice at keeping her temper, wilful obtuseness still always made her see red.
"Andromeda?"
Andromeda whirled toward the fireplace, in the sitting room where her restless steps had led her, to see Kingsley's concerned face in the grate.
"You seemed upset after the session today and I didn't get a chance to talk to you," he said. "May I come over?"
Andromeda bit back a sigh, because the last thing she wanted was to end up taking out her bad temper on Kingsley. But she said, "Yes, all right."
"I'm coming through," he said. His head disappeared for a moment, then the green flames flared and Kingsley stepped out of the fireplace, brushing a dusting of ash from his robes.
Andromeda gave him a rueful smile. "I may not be the best of company right now."
"And I was thinking that I wouldn't be able to sleep well until I knew what was bothering you," he countered. "It's fine."
"Tea?" she asked.
"Yes, please."
They took their teacups to the back patio, since the evenings were finally warm enough for sitting outside.
"The debate today over Gudgeon's proposed law upset you," Kingsley said, once they were settled.
"Yes."
"Why? I mean, beyond the obvious, which is that it's ill-conceived and won't actually make people any safer?"
"The Aurors who put my cousin in Azkaban didn't care much about whether he got a trial, either," Andromeda said, and understanding flared in Kingsley's eyes. "He spent twelve years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, not to mention the rest of his life on the run, all because no one bothered to back up the initial charges with hard evidence."
"Sirius was a good man," Kingsley said, but that wasn't Andromeda's point at all.
"Sirius was an innocent man. This law is about putting possibly innocent people in prison until the justice system gets around to building a case against them."
"For what it's worth, I doubt the proposal will pass. There are enough cool heads on the Wizengamot to look at this reasonably. And I expect you're going to make a very convincing argument against it when you speak tomorrow."
"I hope so." Andromeda glanced over at Kingsley. "What happened to Sirius, you know, I don't hold that against Aurors as a whole. Many of the people I love most have been Aurors, as you know, and I have faith that most of the others, too, are honest and brave. But attempts to give anyone unlimited power make me very nervous. And the blindness that allows people to think it's a good idea is frightening. Are we really so willing to forget the lessons of the past?"
In response, Kingsley asked, "Still working on that history book?"
She nodded. "I'm almost done with the first draft. Ackworth, my editor at the Mirror, has said he would be interested in publishing it."
"That's wonderful! Can I read it?"
"Now? The first draft?"
"Whatever draft you'll let me read," he said, eyes twinkling.
"Let me finish the last sections I'm working on now and I'll let you read it," she promised. "I daresay you'll learn a few things about me you never knew, as I can't seem to write about history without it becoming quite a personal history."
"I'll look forward to it," Kingsley said, and Andromeda knew that was true.
They sat in silence for a bit, then Andromeda said, "I tried, you know. Early on, during the First War, I tried to do it all the proper way, work for change, but do it within the Ministry. That's what Ted and I really believed, then, that prejudice was fought with laws, not vigilante groups. We knew Sirius was mixed up in something – we didn't know it was the Order, exactly – and we didn't approve. And where did that get me? I ended up so disillusioned with the Ministry that I simply gave up and left. And despite my cautious example, I raised a daughter who always ran toward danger instead of away. We were too idealistic, Ted and I. We really believed things would work out if we could just convince everyone to play by the rules."
Andromeda looked up to find Kingsley studying her. "And what do you believe now?" he asked.
"I suppose all I can say for sure is that I gave up too soon back then. I still believe it's worth working for change."
Kingsley set down his empty teacup and reached for her hand. "I'm glad you were willing to come back to the Ministry. The Wizengamot needs you."
"And I'm glad you joined the Wizengamot as well, after your second term ended. Not least because it means you're not out there on active Auror duty." She suppressed a shiver at that thought, caring for Kingsley as much as did and having to worry each evening that this might be the day he never came home from work.
He only smiled. "Are we counting our blessings now? I'm glad joining the Wizengamot led me to you."
She smiled back. "Now you're just being silly."
Kingsley raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers.
He stayed over that night, so he was there when Andromeda started awake in the early hours of the morning from a nightmare.
"I'm here," Kingsley said, reaching for her even as she gasped and woke.
Andromeda struggled to sit up. "It's fine – just a dream –"
Kingsley reached for his wand and Conjured a glass, then murmured, "Aguamenti."
Andromeda drank gratefully. She hadn't had a nightmare like that in years.
The dreams had been frequent, in those first years after losing Ted and Nymphadora. Andromeda would dream something terrible had happened – Nymphadora injured on an Auror mission, Ted cornered by Bellatrix, Sirius' hot temper landing him in a duel he couldn't win – and wake to the relief that it was only a dream.
Then, after that split second of peace, she would remember the truth, that all of them were gone.
Kingsley leaned over and stroked her hair.
"I used to dream about terrible things happening to Nymphadora," she said. "But this time it was Teddy. Already I can't remember exactly… It was something about Metamorphmagi, I think. Oh, it was something stupid, they were rounding up Metamorphmagi and taking them to Azkaban – it didn't make sense even in the dream."
Kingsley's voice was a calming rumble. "You know no one will ever take Teddy away from you as long as I'm around."
"I told you it didn't make sense." She sighed and squeezed his arm. "But thank you for the sentiment. And sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"I don't mind," Kingsley answered easily, and Andromeda allowed herself to be pulled back into the comforting curve of his arm. She still found herself amazed at this comfort – a man in her bed, a partner. Even the physical size of Kingsley was reassuring. Ted had been like that too, a big, solid presence, something to hold onto.
In the morning, with the illogical fears of the night fled and Kingsley smiling at her over poached eggs, Andromeda felt strong enough to take on any number of ill-conceived Wizengamot laws.
– – – – –
(continue to chapter 11)