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"Time and tide wait for no one." They can't. For if they could, then Time would've stopped the moment the sun rose on that fateful Halloween day. But she did not. She kept going, going till innocent lives were taken, till innocent lives were destroyed. The infants who emerged as survivors of that day, weren't destined for peace anywhere in the near future. The worst traumas of their lives were yet to come. They'd lost a lot, true, but they'd been spared a lot as well, for they were yet to learn the epistemology of loss .
Marianne Elmore, in other words the mother of the young boy in our story, had surely outlived her best friend Lily, but that was much more painful than death would ever be. Dumbledore didn't let her have her godson, her husband was thrown into Azkaban for crimes he did not commit, and almost all of her loved ones were dead. That was enough to take a toll on her health. There was no disease in her no physical ailments at least, but she'd lost her sleep at night. When asked how she felt, she'd always say, " It's like the darkness cradling me in his arms. He has this romantic way of placing me on the kitchen counter, muttering in my ear the reasons to stay awake as though they were tender nothings. He reminds me how the moon is such great company and how justice is just utopia."
That was how she'd slowly turned neurotic and exceptionally thin as a result of eating nothing healthy and after countless sleepless nights. She wasn't dead, her body was alive. But her soul had died. That darkness and hopelessness had grown like a parasite inside her, and now she was unable to leave her hospital bed. Most of the wizard kind believed she was something on the lines of soulless, for they did not yet know that something called 'depression' existed. Marianne saw now light at the end of the tunnel. Only darkness,all around her. The last words she'd spoken, before turning completely quiet were to Andromeda Tonks, Sirius's favourite cousin "Take care of him, please. Don't let the Malfoy woman take my son away. She'd do everything in her power to get hold of him. I don't want my son to turn out like the rest of his family."
Thus, time is ruthless. She doesn't care who or what she destroys on the course of her journey. She continues, blindfolded, on her eternal path, with no rest and no sympathy.
"Tell me a story then," the young boy demanded.
This was a relief for Andromeda Tonks who hadn't been able to figure out Ophiuchus' bed time habits. She'd been trying for at least an hour before boy finally put forward one of his usual demands before going to sleep.
"Did mum always tell you stories?" the woman laughed, patting the child's head.
" No," came a cold reply, "Not really. "
The boy turned to face Andromeda. His bluish grey eyes met with Andromeda's deep brown ones which came from her mother's side of the family. Most of the Blacks including her own sisters had those steely grey eyes, which with the exception of Sirius were almost always unnecessarily cold. They believed it would ruin children if they accidentally shown affection. The witch pulled the young boy close and laid his head on her lap.
" After they took my dad away," said the boy matter-of-factly, " Mum forgot to be happy. She just kept muttering to herself on how the ministry was full of doddery old fools, who are biased. She stopped eating or sleeping. She forced smiles, but I knew they were fake."
Andromeda pressed her lips into a thin line. She didn't know what would be the suitable reply to this statement. First of all, Ophiuchus didn't sound like he was a five year old at all, and second of all, how could she assure him of anything when her own thoughts about Sirius were entangled into mess of countless possibilities ? Instead she just stared at him, with a feeling of odd admiration.
Nymphadora, no matter how much she loved her had always been a bit clumsy and impulsive. Ophiuchus however seemed to be significantly matured for a boy of his age. Even Narcissa Malfoy had admitted that the boy hadn't thrown a single tantrum for the five days he spent at Malfoy Manor.
Ophiuchus Edward Black, obviously named after the one random constellation that turned up in Sirius' impulsive mind and his mother's deceased elder brother, was calm, mindful and a very matured boy.
Andromeda ruffled his brown hair, which he himself described as the result of his mum's bright blonde hair clashing horribly with his father's matted black.
" Aunt Cissy calls him a bloodtraitor," Ophiuchus told her, slowly turning his eyes away from her. "What is a bloodtraitor, Aunty Andy?"
Andromeda smiled kindly at the boy. She knew her younger sister well enough to expect anything better. Her two sisters were always the more suitable daughters for the Black family, always worshiping their pureblood mania. Sirius it had appeared would turn out to be something else, maybe the brightest star in that Black Sky but know, he too appeared dimmed. But unlike most others, Andromeda never blamed her family for remaining strict on their own ideals. To them, their actions were for reasons, reasonable and even moral in their violent immorality. "Nothing child," she said, then changing her tone to a much stricter one she said, "Just never ever use the words blood traitor and mudblood ever again will you ?"
" I know they're bad words," The boy said cuddling close to the woman. " Mum told me that. Before she fell ill and they took her to St. Mungo's ."
" Of course she did," said Andromeda, lifting him up and helping him put his head into the crook of her neck. " Then let me tell you the story of a family,a family of stars."
" Where they a large family ,full of love ?"
" They were a large family for a while," Andromeda heaved a deep sigh, dodging the part about love. " And they believed that their children should always believe what they do."
"And if they don't ?"
" They would be banished from the sky."
Ophiuchus listened, completely intrigued. For some reason Aunty Andy's story sounded vaguely like the family Aunt Cissy tells him about, his father's family. Just Aunty Andy's story had stars instead of people, and the little boy couldn't have been more fascinated about it.
