"𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗽."
♡︎☀︎︎❤︎☀︎︎♡
fate does questionable things, but andromeda had always been destined to become the black sheep.
if every door around her appears shut, and all the roads seemed blocked of...
"I keep on writing a sequel to stories I know that are not there"
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TW// mentions of child abuse
The end of summer could only ever mean one thing, the return of the school year. Hogwarts prepared inside and out; as September the first approached quickly, all the staff had their hands on deck.
While each professor had to tackle some challenges, Professor McGonagall arguably had the toughest job. As the Deputy Headmistress, she made sure all first-year muggleborns were properly introduced into the magical world before their first day at Hogwarts. However, this meant that she sometimes saw parents neglect to accept this part of their child, causing the child to miss out on a part of themself for the rest of their life. One could only imagine how saddening it was.
To blow a portion of the steam off, Minerva found herself in Flourish and Blotts Bookseller. It wasn't often she entered these stores this time of year in order to avoid past, present, and future students alike. Something could've blown the clouds differently that morning causing her to end up there if one believes in fate, or it could simply be because she felt restless in her office watching the hours tick by relentlessly.
That hot August afternoon, Andromeda also found herself in Diagon Alley. The constant rays of sun might as well have pushed Meda's shirt sleeves up themselves, the heat was really that persistent. Her curls piled on top of her head didn't seem to relieve any discomfort the sun was causing either.
Leaning against a wall in Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions, Meda reckoned it wouldn't be too difficult to ditch Narcissa and the house elves. She still needed to grab some textbooks anyway, so if she came back with a bag of books and no ice cream was to be found, no suspicions would ever arise.
This logic led her to sneak away from the argument that was brewing in front of her—Narcissa kept complaining that they were sticking the pins in too deep—and away from the house elves that were supposed to be keeping a close eye on her. They were too focused on Narcissa's predicament as of the current moment, so she slipped away easily.
Having a ring on her finger kept freedom away even when her family members weren't present. It felt like she had been put on a leash, only being able to run away so far before the person holding the leash pulled back and constricted your breathing. She was in a constant state of worry around whether or not someone was going to pull the leash back.
She found quickly that she couldn't rid of the anxiety that came with the ring. As she walked around Diagon Alley alone, Meda imagined all anyone could see was a teenage girl wearing an engagement ring. They probably thought up some horrendous things about her, and suddenly Meda wondered if anyone would report about it in the newspapers.
