Blackbird

Chapter 47

It seemed like the universe had no shame, as the very next day in Defense Against the Dark Arts they were studying inferi. At the end of class, Andromeda decided she herself was an inferi. Not truly dead, but not truly alive either.

She'd felt too alive yesterday. Somehow, she'd managed to keep herself together until Rabastan had led her back to the common room. She'd even managed a tired smile as he kissed her goodnight. Once she made it upstairs, she barely had time to perform a silencing charm—the very charm she and Ted had practiced together all those months ago—before the sobs started ripping their way through her body. She'd never thought sobbing itself could hurt so much, but it did. She could barely breathe, her insides were so tight, but each sobbed managed to claw its way out anyway. She was grateful for the physical pain though, it was a distraction, even if a small one.

She would never be able to forget his face. The betrayal, the pain. She would never forget his scream when her sister tortured him. The broken, defeated look he gave her afterward. Rodolphus had been watching her the whole time, so she dared not give him any sign that she cared. It was the only way she could keep him safe. She supposed she should be grateful it worked, but a part of her wished it hadn't. Because now she wouldn't be lying here, knowing she could never speak to Ted again.

It was sometime before the sobs subsided, and then she just laid there, her raspy breathing the only sound in the unnervingly still night.

She wasn't going to be able to live like this, this constant state of regret and longing. It would break before she even made it out of Hogwart's. It would better to feel nothing at all.

She closed her eyes, and let images of Ted fill her mind. His smile, his laugh, his voice, his touch. She let it all wash over her. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and a soft smile played on her lips.

And then she pushed it away, all of it, until she could felt nothing but emptiness.

She passed the rest of Defense Against the Dark Arts in a blur, the numbness making everything feel dull. As class approached its end, she felt her heart pumping. Her next class was charms, the only class she had with the Hufflepuffs. The only time she would have no choice but to see him.

He might not even be there. He had gone through the cruciatus curse yesterday— that took its toll. She should be grateful that was all he got, all things considered. She wondered if he would report it, but she doubted it. Bellatrix wasn't the one who had truly hurt him, after all. She doubted Sirius would either. Bellatrix was far less likely to go after Sirius than Ted. It was one thing for a muggleborn to disrespect her family—that was unfathomable—but with Sirius it was expected. And as twisted as it was her sister would rather a pureblood like Sirius be responsible than a lowly muggleborn, no matter how much she detested that particular blood traitor. Still though, this was bigger than anything else Sirius had done, and he was going to have to watch his back. She doubted he'd throw fuel on the fire by getting her thrown in Azkaban, as that would bring her friend's wrath down on him.

Was it strange that this brought her a sense of relief? For all her sister had done, she didn't want her sent to Azkaban, even though she should. The idea that she didn't want Ted's tormentor brought to justice sent a new wave of guilt through her.

She walked to Charms as though in a trance, but at the same time she was steeling herself. She couldn't afford to make a mistake now, when she saw him, she had to treat him as a stranger. It was the only way.

But just as she began to ascend the stairs, a figure stepped in her path.

"My dearest sister," Rodolphus drawled, that dark, easy smile on his lips. "May I speak with you for a moment?"