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Sirius Black ([info]first_sirius) wrote in [info]_firstwar_hist,
@ 2009-11-30 22:03:00

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Entry tags:* complete, 1977, andromeda tonks, sirius black

Characters: Sirius Black and Andromeda Tonks
Date: July, 1977
Location: Tonks Residence
Rating: PG?
Summary: In which Sirius and Andromeda attempt to sort out how to interact without Sirius leaving in a huff. It mostly works. Sort of.
Status: Complete



The first conversation had gone well. Had been easy. Almost natural. It was reasonable that she would have sought him out. She'd left. He'd left. For different reasons, really- or maybe, deep down, it was the same reason. It was still strange to try to frame it in that terms, though, that his leaving had been like hers. In his mind, there was some sort of intrinsic, undefinable difference vested in the circumstances. But they'd both left. He'd eventually relented to her gentle inquiries though he'd have much preferred the conversation to stay centered around her explaining her own departure. All in all, it had gone well. He'd been happy that she was happy.

So it was strange when their second conversation had gone so poorly. Intellectually, he knew that they way her leaving had been treated, the way it had been explained to him had been a little warped. She'd tried to owl him, to explain things, but his mother had found those letters in short order. And then it had been six years of silence. Six years of behaving as if she had died. His family's view of her leaving may have been skewed, but the pain of it had been real. A pain they weren't allowed to acknowledge, let alone talk about. Bella had only ever talked about it once, one last time to explain the way of it to him, and then she'd never said her sister's name again. It was supposed to have been like Andromeda had died, only they'd never been permitted to grieve the loss. At ten years old, it had been difficult to understand apart from the hurt of it. Even though he thought about it differently now, understood that she'd needed to leave, it didn't erase the past hurt.

And it didn't help that James's wariness of all things Black apart from Sirius did little to put Sirius at ease. He relied on James's moral compass, especially when it came to matters of his family. Under the name Tonks, despite her being disowned, James still saw a Black. The third and fourth conversations had been equally awkward, also ending with Sirius leaving. He just had no idea how to be, how to behave around her. She was a Black, only she wasn't. He'd renounced her, but only because she'd left and he'd been too young to know to do any differently. Only he'd left, too. So they were the same. Only they weren't. And it had been six years. He was so different from the ten-year-old he'd been when she'd left. And she was... a mother. A wife and a mother and a Tonks. It wasn't like with Bella, who had so easily, so visibly still been a Black under the name Lestrange.

But it had been a month. A month since they'd tried doing this, since they'd said much of anything to each other. He got the feeling she was waiting. Or giving him space. Or something- the not knowing, the not understanding how or what she was thinking just by looking at her felt strange.

But he was at her door. The why was still a little ambiguous. But he was there. He wanted it to work. He wanted for there to be something between them, he just had no idea what it might look like. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he knocked on her door, his brain trying to concoct some way to keep his haphazard impulses in check, to keep himself sociable.

Maybe he should have thought this part out beforehand.



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[info]first_sirius
2009-12-03 07:13 am UTC (link)
He couldn't help wondering how much Andy knew about the things he'd learned from Bellatrix. How young he'd been when it had started. How even when he was a child, he wasn't just a child. He wasn't just a son, he'd been an heir. He'd been set on a path to the head of a family, a position that would have eventually put him in authority over her, if things had worked out differently. It was a position not the least bit served by naivety, though a Black childhood was enough to strip that much away by age six or seven. Autonomy, independence, the drive to forge a way for himself, they were functions of who he was. Those were the pieces that he wondered if Andy understood, if she ever would.

Sirius feared, truly feared, that she would invite him into her home. He didn't want her to have to hear him decline. It would have felt too much like moving backwards. And it was a lifestyle... the husband, the kid, that he didn't know if he could stomach. With the Potters, they both knew him, both liked him, and tension was never an issue. Sirius was simply too eager to be grateful, to do right by them. Staying with Andy might have- he didn't want to trample on the life she'd chosen. He wanted to protect it. Preserve it for her. And in his core, he knew that meant giving it a little distance.

"It's sweet," he said softly, trying to be reassuring, to indicate he didn't mind while still dismissing the implication that she needed to worry.

She was sweet. Without armor. There was some, sure, but it wore more like braided leather than layered steel. Part of him couldn't help a little worry of its own. And she had so much to loose, he couldn't help noting as his gaze shifted over to Dora. No part of him liked considering a child a liability, being able to see it as a weakness, a vulnerability. Those sorts of observations belonged locked in the Black family cellar. Not fit for the light of day, or the warmth of Andy's kitchen.

"How much do you follow the news?" he heard himself ask, the sound of it a little flat, a little too pointedly casual, before tearing his eyes from Andy's daughter.

It was hard to not wish ignorance for her. There was a softness to Andy that was worth protecting. It was almost ironic to him, the idea of her worrying over him when he was so very much safer than she.

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[info]first_andromeda
2009-12-03 07:26 am UTC (link)
Her gaze had drifted back to her daughter as well watching as she played in that way that all children do, without a care in the world. Dora didn't have to worry about a daughter and a husband and a family that was as vengeful and blood thirsty as it was protective of its own. She didn't have to know that every time she left her mothers sight or every time Andromeda dropped her at the baby sitters or with her grandparents that she feared coming to pick her up and finding nothing but blood shed and chaos because her former family decided to finally take its payment for her leaving them. Andromeda hated the constant worry and struggle and fear. She hated thinking that if it all came down to it that she would not be strong enough nor would she be enough to protect her daughter and her husband from those she used to call kith and kin. It was a terrifying thought for Andromeda but it was her reality. She knew what she was getting into when she chose Ted over her family and as they say you must lie in the bed you make and Andy was doing just that but not without a ton of worry and fear that one day it would all be ripped violently and painfully away from her.

"Depends on what news you refer to. The new they print in the Prophet or the whispered news that is passed from person to person because people are too afraid to print it and draw attention to themselves and their family." Her gaze slid back to him, a blank look upon her face as she wondered what he was getting at. It was one of the perks to working at Mungo's. She learned all of the news both that was printed and that which wasn't printed regardless of whether she wanted to know it or not. The hospital was the largest place of gossip, far more than Witch Weekly ever could be and there were days she wondered how they ever managed to get any work done what with as often as they all stood around at the water cooler so to speak gossiping about this patient or that and the family and incidents attached to them. As healers they weren't supposed to talk about their patients but everyone did it. You just made sure that when you did do it that no one of authority was around and that no one ever attached your name to the beginning of the rumor that turned vicious and got someone fired or led to an article in the paper about someone getting arrested. They were their own secret society of sorts. A society of the worlds biggest gossips.

Andromeda arched a brow at him in silent questioning as she wondered what he was getting at. She couldn't read him as well as the others could and as such had no idea what he was hinting at or there was something she was supposed to already know and if that were the case a cold feeling of dread washed over her instantly as if it were the latter she had no idea what it was she was supposed to know and she feared that it would not be a good thing nor would it lead to a good outcome either.

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[info]first_sirius
2009-12-03 07:47 am UTC (link)
She had to know what a nice looking target she made. Her breeding was too good, and bother her defection and her husband too notable. Plus there was a that child. Sirius didn't like the way he could see it from a Death Eater's perspective, didn't like understanding how optimal the situation was for turning it into a political message. It was like the greedy wheezing of a starving dog that had just caught sight of raw meat, and had every one of Sirius's nerves slamming on edge.

Though his posture didn't change, he was instantly more alert. He went still, the sort of still that seemed more poised than tranquil. He didn't understand why he hadn't seen it before, why he wasn't aware of it instantly. If it weren't so disconcerting he'd have flat out laughed at the sound of Moody's rants about constant vigilance echoing in the back of his mind.

"There are people who can help you, if you ever find yourself... in trouble," he said, putting it as delicately as he was able, in part because secret societies only really worked if they stayed sort of secret and in part because he didn't feel he needed to define 'trouble' in front of a child. He didn't know how well Andy would be able to handle herself if Death Eaters ever got it into their heads to come after her. Or Ted. Or Dora. "It doesn't matter when. You come to me. Or James. There are people who can keep you safe."

Okay, so he'd have to talk to James. But Sirius knew James- for all his concerns and mistrust of Andy there was no way in hell that if she turned up on the Potter's doorstep with Dora in tow that James would be able to turn them out into the night. Not fucking possible.

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