"The Nymph's Gift," Andromeda/Ted, PG
Title: The Nymph's Gift
Author: kethlenda
Characters/Pairing: Andromeda/Ted
Summary: An act of kindness is repaid.
Rating: PG
Warning(s): The fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed.
Originally Written: 12/05
Notes: This is what happens when I have fun with mythology, etymology, and caffeine. Definitely caffeine.


It was a beautiful day, late spring melting splendidly into summer, and for Andromeda Black, it was gilded still further by the sweet taste of subversion. If Bellatrix could see her now, backed up against the rough bark of an ancient oak in the Forbidden Forest, with Ted Tonks kissing her, one hand around her waist and the other pinning her long hair against the trunk—well, Bella would have kittens. The image amused Andromeda to no end.

She broke the kiss for a moment to laugh, and Ted kissed her throat as she threw her head back. “What’s so funny, Romy?” he said, his voice teasing,

“Just thinking,” she said.

“We’ll have no more of that,” he said, claiming her lips again, and banishing all thought from her mind.

Suddenly the quiet of the forest was shattered by a piercing scream. A girl’s scream. Andromeda and Ted jumped apart and looked at each other. “What the…” she wondered aloud, and then the two of them were tripping over each other in their rush to help.

They followed the sound, running and panting and cracking branches under their feet, until they reached a small clearing in the woods. There they saw the source of the cry. There was a vast spider web stretched between two of the trees at the far side of the clearing, and in the web was trapped a struggling figure.

Andromeda ran to her. It was a young girl, a pretty girl, with an elfin heart-shaped face and improbable leaf-green hair, dressed in a skimpy white dress. Andromeda had never seen her before. Maybe she was in some other House…

“Quick, Ted, your pocket knife,” she said, feeling in her element now that she knew what to do. Ted rushed to her side and silently handed her the instrument. She met the girl’s dark, tear-filled eyes and spoke in what she hoped was a soothing tone. “We’ll have you out of here in no time, don’t worry…”

She sliced efficiently through the sticky strands that bound the girl, trying not to think about what sort of spider would build a web big enough to ensnare a human. “There,” she said, helping her down to the forest floor. “Now let’s get you back up to the castle.”

The green-haired girl laughed. Her laughter was like the babble of a brook, the tinkling of bells, the soft peal of leaves brushing leaves in the wind. “I do not go to your school, Miss…What is your name?”

“Andromeda.”

“Chained, are you? That’s not good.”

Andromeda was confused, then remembered the Greek meaning of her name. “No, I’m fine.”

“Your family,” said the girl, and Andromeda wondered whether she knew Legilimency. “Chains of blood. Just as strong as iron. Or cobwebs.”

“Your sister is a bit of a ball and chain, you have to admit,” said Ted, elbowing Andromeda in the ribs.

“I must go,” said the girl. “But remember what I said about your family. And remember, I owe you a favor. Expect it. When you least expect it.” And with that, the green-haired girl turned tail and ran deep into the forest.

* * *

Three Years Later

“Sorry I couldn’t get a bigger one,” said Ted, casting a rueful glance at the rather scraggly Christmas tree.

Andromeda smiled, a little sadly. After all this time, did he really think she was disappointed in the humbler life she had lived since their marriage? “You didn’t put any skulls on it,” she said, “Which makes it an improvement over the ones my mum and dad used to have.”

He laughed, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Point taken. And maybe next year we’ll have toys and baby booties under our tree.”

“Maybe,” said Andromeda, feeling the evening turn grey of a sudden. She wondered when she would have the courage to tell him. She knew he would never reproach her for it, but she didn’t want to extinguish the hope she saw in his eyes, false hope though it was—

Bellatrix smiling that poisoned smile. “At least you won’t bear that boy any little Mudbloods,” a swish of her wand, a clenching pain in Andromeda’s womb…

At the time it had only fueled her anger and assured her she had done the right thing by leaving, but now she felt Bella’s curse weigh heavily upon her, and every month when she bled she could almost hear Bella laughing.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ted.

“Nothing,” she said. “Tired.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’m going to go to bed, honey. See you there?” He winked.

“Of course,” she said, smiling weakly.

He left her alone in the room, and with her thoughts. She just stood there for a few minutes, staring listlessly at the twinkling lights on the tree, wondering whether it might be better just to tell him and have it over with.

It was the sound of the wind chimes that awoke her from her reverie. They were beautiful, crystalline, just the right thing for a cold snowy night, and she smiled in spite of herself. The chimes almost seemed to be singing, laughing…They reminded her of that day in the forest, and the green-haired girl.

Wait. The chimes were singing. That was a real song, nothing the wind could have coaxed from them at random. The song was familiar somehow, as though Andromeda had known it long ago, but she couldn’t place it.

Then came the knock at the door. Soft, tentative, but unmistakably a knock. She went to the door, wondering who could come to call at such a late hour in such inhospitable weather when there were owls to save them the frostbitten toes.

She opened the door. There was no one there.

Her slippered toe nudged something rough. She looked down. There on the doorstep was a basket woven of straw and wild juniper, and inside, swaddled in a blanket of some diaphanous and shining fabric, was a baby. A baby with a delicate heart-shaped face, and hair the pale pink of a Christmas rose.

Andromeda smiled her thanks, hoping the strange girl could feel her gratitude, wherever she was. She picked up the basket and carried little Nymphadora inside.