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My Name Is Andromeda Black by Nessa Elendil
Chapter 1 : In My Dreams
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6


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My name is Andromeda Black, and I am a witch from what I consider to be the most hated and hateful wizarding family in England. My parents are disgusting, they care not about me or my sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, but of our so-called "pureblood" ancestry, and that our lineage continues to be so.

I've locked myself in my room just to get away from them, all of them. My entire family, from what I understand, is wrapped up in the sick belief that half-blood and Muggle-born witches and wizards are unworthy to study magic. I don't believe it, and I don't believe them, yet it seems they still control near every aspect of my life.

It all started with the Sorting Hat. What does that dumb piece of cloth know anyways? It tried to put me in Slytherin, and I let it, I let a hat control my life; because I don't belong in Slytherin, I know I don't.

My parents were pleased, but I didn't care; Slytherin had made my life a hell, a hell I was unable to escape, and still am bound to. I was foolish, I thought Hogwarts would be my escape from the prejudice, but I was wrong. I was foolish in my dreams of Hogwarts, of my expectations. It's foolish to dream; dreams only bring up hopes, hopes that come crashing down with each passing day.

But in my dreams, I still hope, as I did when I was younger. I used to dream of having a friend, someone I could talk to and laugh with; but that hope had been vanquished within the first few months of my first year. Contrary to my belief, I discovered that houses do make a difference. Any potential friends I had made were too prejudice to overlook my being in Slytherin, and those that could, judged me for being born a Black. The Slytherins, I knew, would accept me, but first, I'd need to embrace their beliefs, which I could never do. Those beliefs have dominated my life for far too long.

Now, I'm in my fourth year, yet in my dreams, I am still a fool. Now I dream of more than friendship, now I dream of love.

My mind and my heart, perhaps the only parts of me still within my own control. I know this, because I love.

Ted Tonks, the wizard of my dreams, it's him I love. It's him I dream of. He's smart, funny, loyal, fairly popular, outgoing, and handsome, at least in my eyes. I fantasize about running my fingers through his thick, brown locks as he puts his arms around me, holding me close. In my dreams, I can almost taste his lips, warm and moist, upon my own. Every time I pass him in a corridor at Hogwarts, I cast my gaze away, using my dark hair to shield my face, to try and slow my racing pulse, revive my shallow breathing, settle the butterflies that take over my stomach; and so that he won't see how my eyes light up at the sight of him, or the blush that creeps onto my face, or how I bite my lip to contain the smile and sigh that would otherwise escape.

Love. An emotion foreign to me, yet I know it to be what I feel for Ted. For him, I feel something wonderful that never before I had experienced. Indescribable, unobtainable, I want to feel it, forever, I want to feel love. I want it so badly that I've created an outlet for my own love in which I can see no hope reaching my dreams, but at the same, it feels as close as I can ever get.

I wonder if I'll see him on the train ride tomorrow?

Oh, why can't my mind wonder to anything, anyone, but him? I've only been here for a week, for Spring Break, which my parents "requested" I spend at home, and I find it hard to think of anything else. I don't even have the courage to tell him how I really feel. Then again, I doubt he even knows my name. He's a Gryffindor, what reason would he have to look twice at a Slytherin? Especially a Black, who's supposed to hate Muggle-borns like himself.

But sometimes, I think Ted is the only reason I go back to Hogwarts to dwell on lost dreams. After all, I have no friends, and an education will do me no good; all I've ever really wanted to be was a Healer, but I'm terrified of seeing a dead body; badly mutilated, bloodied, and broken, I can handle, but not dead.

Sometimes, I even consider running away, but the thought of Ted holds me back, and I have no place to go. Here, at least, I can occasionally see Sirius. My little cousin is different from them, I can tell. He understands their ways are wrong; but he's only six, he doesn't understand like I do, no one can. No one sees the world as I do.

A/N: Well, that's the end of the first chapter, more of an introduction, really. The rest is written a bit differently.


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