Who: Fabian Prewett & Andromeda Black (soon to be Tonks) What: Old friends catch up after their disgraces When: Fall 2010 Where: Andromeda's home Warnings: None significant but dysfunctional family talk
The incident had been all over the Prophet and the WWN, and ultimately, so had Fabian's resignation from the Auror Office. Fabian's personal troubles had been kept more quiet, as had his trip abroad to get the persistent flashbacks he was having dealt with. And now he was home again, supposedly cured--or at least under better control--and considering what he should do with his life.
Which was how he came to be on Andromeda's sofa, enjoying a cuppa, and telling her everything that had happened. Fabian had never quite let himself fall out of touch with Andromeda even when she'd abandoned her engagement and gone into disgrace, and if he was in disgrace in Society now, well, he and Andromeda would make it more tolerable together.
"--and then Gideon went on leave and that was the end of that. And I've no idea whether he means to go back to Mysteries or not, because from what he's said, they were fast to replace him when he left. And he's been grumpy about the sort of work they've been assigning him for ages, anyroad, so--" Fabian spread his hands and shrugged. It was about all he could say about Mysteries because it was about the limit of what he was allowed to know. "So how are things with you?"
Disgrace was actually quite a freeing place to be, Andromeda discovered. There were no fewer eyes on her, of course, no fewer tongues ready to wag about whatever it was she did, but. It wasn’t like those wagging tongues could get her in trouble with her mother any longer, could they? Whatever news made it back to her family, they could all look terribly disappointed now but say, in good conscience, they’d cut off that particular diseased limb from the family tree, and how it rooted now was no business of theirs.
“Well,” she mused, lips quirking, “Not half so exciting as all that. It’s mostly been family politics and rearranging my social calendar. It’s quite a bit emptier than it used to be, I’m relieved to say.” She picked up a biscuit with a shrug. Fabian’s visit was really the only one she’d gotten from anyone of particular consequence since she’d been disowned. Well enough, considering he was one of the only people she still cared to talk to anyway.
Fabian, who might not be getting disowned but was certainly a lower priority on the social list these days, smirked. "A lot of those parties are boring anyroad, so it's not like you're missing anything. They just want to breed us like abraxans and the whole thing is aimed at that: the proper distribution of money and power and bloodline. But you know that."
It was supposed to be Fabian's job to marry a bright young heiress like Andromeda. For all that Fabian thought that under other circumstances they might not have been unhappy, the aspect of it that involved shoving them together like a under-eleven's dollies and telling them to make the best of it lacked appeal.
"So what are you going to do to show them the bras d'honneur, as it were?"
A wrinkle of Andromeda’s nose betrayed exactly what she thought of that particular mental image. Fabian wasn’t wrong, of course. She grew up knowing that her duty was to marry well, hang prettily upon her approved husband’s arm, and produce at least one acceptable heir. Preferably a spare as well, of course. It was always better to have a backup plan, in case of mistakes like the one Andromeda was making now, obviously.
Not that Andromeda felt it was a mistake. It felt a lot like one of the smarter decisions she’d ever made, if only because it was one of the first she made on her own, without relying on her family to do the thinking for her.
“Well,” she began, a smile crinkling up the corners of her eyes, “I thought I’d start by marrying Ted, then move on to the next logical step of building a family with him.” She paused, that expression tilting into something rueful before Andromeda confessed, “Only we’ve gotten a little out of order, so I suppose we’ll have to rush the wedding to avoid additional scandal.”
Fabian's face lit up with pleasure. "Oh, congratulations!" He raised his teacup in salute to Andromeda. "Should I ask when? And can I tell Gid or do you want me to tell him he has to visit you and let him drop it in your lap?"
Given that she had rather lost friends and family in one fell swoop, Andromeda hadn’t been able to share the happy news with anyone but Ted. It was nice to say it to Fabian and get a genuinely happy response. She brightened up into a grin. “Summer, next year. We’ve only just found out. It… did sort of hasten my leaving home.” The grin faded by slow degrees. “Can you imagine when they find out? A half-blooded Black.”
Fabian was still amused. "Perhaps Aunt Walburga will have an aneurysm and that can be her christening gift to us all. I won't let on, though." Since Fabian's Aunt Lucretia had been a Black before she'd married into the Prewetts, he understood the family dynamics. Especially since his own sister had married out of the charmed circle as well, for all that Arthur Weasley was a pureblood himself. Just not the right sort, Sacred Twenty-Eight designation notwithstanding. "You should talk to Molly, if you haven't done already. She's raising up a housefull so she'll be a good resource for you. And also inclined to tell our stuffier relatives where they can shove their breeding plans."
Andromeda made a thoroughly unladylike noise into her teacup, caught herself, and then set it aside with a little hiccuping laugh. “Oh, Merlin. She might very well at that.” She wasn’t even sure anyone would be sad about it. Was that cruel? If it was, she would worry about it later… or possibly blame it on hormones. That was meant to be a thing to say for the next several months, and Andromeda didn’t mind taking advantage of any excuse that would let her get away with not crying over the idea of shaming any family member to death.
“Should do,” she agreed with a nod. “I’ll get in touch with Molly. We can all have a nice lunch, compare notes on going terribly off the family script.”
"Good, because you're not the only one who could use a friend."
Molly's quarrels with their mother had been an open secret in their set. Fabian thought they ought to be able to work it out and that it was more of a personality clash between Molly and Mum than a proper disowning of the sort Andromeda had got. The Prewetts didn't even have a tapestry to get blasted off of, for crying out loud. But Molly had put distance between herself and her old friends because she didn't want to give in to her family. So she was short on women of her own class and breeding, and not entirely, Fabian thought, because she wanted it that way.
"But don't tell her I said so," Fabian concluded, "because I don't want her to hex me."
“Cross my heart,” Andromeda offered with a little gesture over her chest, her eyes bright with merriment. As if she’d ever purposefully get Fabian into trouble when he did it so well himself. She didn’t even have to say that. He knew it, and her look probably made it obvious.
She picked up a biscuit to nibble in the hopes it might make her look more innocent. Really, it did something of the opposite. As usual, Andromeda was absolutely terrible at hiding how she felt. At least there were biscuits to nudge across like a consolation prize.
Fabian, who'd lived in the other half of their year's dungeon with her for seven years, took a biscuit. But the way he arched an eyebrow and tilted his head and quirked the corner of his mouth in a familiar smirk demonstrated that her attempts at unimpeachable virtue, or at least its appearance, had failed. "Good. And we'll have to see what we can do about you having a proper wedding, not just an exchange of vows and filling up forms in the Ministry. Just because it won't be the way the Blacks would do it doesn't mean you can't have one."
Andromeda’s lips curled, sweet if a little teasing, behind the biscuit she was using like a flimsy shield. “Going to exchange your old stresses for trying your hand at wedding planning, then? I don’t know that it’s a wise career move, but if anyone can pull it off, I suspect it’s you.” She was almost sure that the motivation there was to prove that they could keep living well and happily without all the old support network in play, but it was kind regardless. Andromeda had never considered putting together a wedding before. She’d always been assured that her mother would handle it and just let her know when and where to show up on the appropriate day.
Fabian had never really considered putting a wedding together before, either, but he could certainly manage to throw a shindig with style and grace. And this was a challenge to which he could rise, and he could get the music together easily enough and-- "I'll see what I can do," he said with the sort of nonchalance that told anyone in their set that he was planning furiously. "We'll work out the invitation list--the real one--and consider the venue choices. Somewhere that Muggles can go. And we'll need to ask Ted what his customs are, because they may be very different to what we're used to. But we can do this."
Andromeda was right. Living well was the best revenge, and Fabian intended to have hers, and his own.