Perhaps something more, a short continuation, on this one? It's been five years, and I always wondered what happened afterwards... for hallonboat
Wow, it's hard to pick something up after five years or so! We got a different age spread, and I've decided to go along and get along ont he Andromeda's House issue (though I don't find Slughorn's comment particularly convincing, there's certainly nothing else to go on).
Andromeda ground her teeth and watched Sirius disappear into the night. "I'm sorry," she told Ted. "That's not entirely how this particular conversation should have gone."
"Who knew your cousin had an Invisibility Cloak?" Ted asked, shaking his head. "Is that from your family?"
"If it were, they'd never give it to Sirius. Too many dreadful possibilities." She smiled faintly. "I saw Sirius and his little friends all over Diagon Alley at Christmas. I imagine they found it in one of those secondhand shops and pooled their gold for it." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Ted, I need to make sure Sirius doesn't do anything... rash. We've always been friends, and I'm afraid--"
"That he'll think I'm taking his only family friend away?"
"Well, tell him he's not losing a cousin. He's gaining a... well, cousin."
She nodded. "Right. And I'll come back out, and we'll properly celebrate our engagement."
"As properly as you like, I think." She kissed him. "Wait here."
She was nearly back to the castle when she realized she had never put her shoes back on. She considered Summoning them, but it seemed like too much trouble. Instead, she went to the great door, did a Disillusioning spell on herself so she wouldn't be seen sneaking in, then slipped inside. A set of damp footprints from the dewy grass led up the stairs. They faded more and more as she went up, but held out long enough that Andromeda was reasonably sure that Sirius had headed for the owlery.
She broke the Disillusionment, then went up the narrow stairs that led to the high tower room. The pungent smell of dry feathers and owl excrement met her as she entered. Sirius was sitting at the launch window, a tawny owl waiting impatiently for him. Andromeda thought it was James Potter's owl, the one the boys called Garters. Sirius had a piece of parchment and a quill in his hand, but he wasn't writing.
"Where were you planning to send that?" she asked quietly.
He didn't jump, or even seem surprised. He just shrugged. "I thought about Uncle Alphard."
Andromeda pulled a crate over and sat near him. "Interesting choice."
"I could tell on you, but you wouldn't really get in trouble. Uncle Alphard can keep secrets sometimes."
Sirius nodded. "I told him once that I hid Mum's scrying bowl. He never said a word to her. Just told me he thought it was a good idea."
"Really. And when Regulus broke the salad bowl, Uncle Alphard just fixed it and never said anything."
"I may have to re-think who I can trust. I would be good to add someone."
Sirius turned and looked at her. "If you get married to a Mudblood--"
"Right, sorry, I forgot. If you marry a Muggle-born, then none of us will be allowed to talk to you."
"So it won't matter whether you can trust us or not."
Andromeda felt her anger rising up. She'd just got engaged, and really ought to be down with Ted, enjoying the perfect moonlit night, but instead, she was here with her sulky younger cousin, hoping he wouldn't spoil it before it got properly started. But when she looked at Sirius, she could see misery in his face. They'd been good friends in the midst of a family that didn't care much for either of them, and, while she was going on to something she hoped would be good for her, she was leaving him behind amongst the wolves. Of course, he had his friends, but they would hardly be invited to all the tedious family events they'd kept one another's spirits up through.
And he was right--the moment she ceased to be Andromeda Black and became Andromeda Tonks, the whole family--Sirius and Uncle Alphard included--would be forbidden to talk to her on pain of exile.
But surely, even Mad Auntie wouldn't exile her own firstborn, not when he was only eleven years old. Probably not ever. He was actually quite spoiled, and...
She couldn't convince herself of it. Mad Auntie spoiled the boys, in her way, but she saw them as extensions of herself. When they refused to behave accordingly, she saw it as a personal affront.
"I wish it were different," Andromeda said. "But I can't stay there, Sirius. I can't just sit there and listen to Bella's bile anymore. She's been writing to me all year with one mad raving after another. Narcissa eats it up, of course. I argue, and she starts talking about how it's perfectly simple, and I'm just in denial about what this influx of 'filth' is doing, and so on. I'm afraid of what will happen if I keep listening to that."
"You don't imagine you'd... believe her?" Sirius asked, horrified.
"Of course not. But now that I'm of age and I carry my wand all the time, I'm a bit worried about what I might do with it if she pushes me too far." Andromeda considered this. "All told, the world might be more pleasant if I did, but I don't think I could live with it."
Sirius nodded. "Well," he said, "I suppose it's all right, then."
"And it's not like I'll do what Mum says anyway."
"Sirius, you could be in real trouble if you don't."
He grinned, and the dark shadow that had been falling over his face disappeared entirely. "Even better. I'll see you all the time. And if she wants to kick me out, I can come and live with you and Ted!"
He stood up and started pacing. "It'll be great. I'll sneak out during hols, and come see you. And I'll write to you, but not let Narcissa see. I'll bet James will help. I can say I'm at his place, and really go visit you. And then when she finds out and tries to kick me out, I'll give her what for!" He turned with a mad smile. "This is great! Can I help you? Does Ted like me? Would he let me come and stay?"
Andromeda shook her head, and let Sirius go on with his fantasy.
Hmmm... Please can we see some teenage Dora? Maybe with Remus. Or her parents. Possibly talking about her plans to become an Auror. for Anon
"Remus, could you teach me something?"
Remus looked up from the book he'd been lazily perusing while Andromeda set the table for Easter. Dora--who'd been working diligently on a paper when he'd arrived--was now standing in front of him, one scabbed knee on the ottoman. Her final year at Hogwarts was taking a toll on her; she seemed tired and drawn. "What do you want me to teach you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Anything." She sat on the ottoman. "Some good Defense spell from the war. I have a meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour and Alastor Moody on Tuesday about an apprenticeship--if I get the N.E.W.T.s, of course--and I want to show them something spectacular."
"Mad-Eye won't be impressed by anything showy," Remus told her. "He'll want to see you noticing things. Spells aren't going to help."
She sighed, seeming to deflate. "What about Scrimgeour?"
"I haven't dealt with him very often. All I know for sure is that he's not overly fond of Dumbledore."
"Not fond of Dumbledore!" Dora shook her head. "He's not evil, is he?"
Remus laughed. "Not that I know of. As far as I know, they just don't like one another. I've never heard anyone, including Dumbledore, say that Scrimgeour's anything but an honorable man."
"Well, that's good."
"Dora, you'll do fine. I saw Mad-Eye last week, and he said he was looking forward to your interview. He was quite taken with you when he went to Hogwarts."
"Really. And no, I'm not going to tell you everything he said, but suffice it to say, he's fond of you."
"I like him, too. He's a bit mad, but I like him."
"That's about the sum of it."
"So, will you teach me something? I'm of age, so I can use my wand."
"Well, I don't think it'll make any difference..."
She shrugged. "Just for old time's sake. I'd love to take something with me that you taught me."
"Can you do a Patronus?"
"Best in my class!" Dora said, then drew her wand and, with a flourish, cried, "Expecto Patronum!" A wild storm of butterflies flew around her. One alit on Remus's nose before they faded away.
"Very good," he said. "That's a useful one, and not many witches and wizards can do it."
"I know. There are only three of us who can get one at all. And it didn't seem that hard to me." She grinned. "My boyfriend Daffy says it's because I'm so happy that I'm half-Patronus myself." Her face fell. "Well, he was my boyfriend. We broke up."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Oh, well, he's still a good mate, right?"
"Perhaps a good Curse?"
"Is there a good Curse you know that they haven't taught at Hogwarts?"
"Quite a few, none of which would be appropriate for an Auror. They're wartime Curses."
"Do you know anything better than the Shield Charm for defense?"
Remus thought about it. "Well, there's a Chimera Charm..."
Her eyes lit up. "What does that do?"
"It creates a visual distortion, so that the Dark wizard you're dealing with aims at the wrong place."
"Perfect," Dora said. "Let's do that. And I'll try it on Moody."
"Well, Mad-Eye invented it."
"So he'll be all the more impressed that I know it."
Remus shook his head. "All right," he said. "First, you need to concentrate on your own location..."