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Burnout by JamesPotterLivesOn
Chapter 1 : Stargazing
Rating: 12+Chapter Reviews: 7

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gorgeous ci by ahoythere@tda





Ever since she was able to reach the shelf of her father’s bookcase dedicated for astronomy, Andromeda loved the stars. Her head had always been up in the heavens and her feet attached only by the thinnest of threads to the earth. She was hopelessly living in a dazed state. The stars had blinded her eyes and she could not see reality anymore. She wandered aimlessly through life thinking that no harm would come to her if she couldn’t harm others. She now longed for that innocence.


She heard a child crying in the distance. She instantly thought of a wonderful young boy left with his emerald-eyed god father. Maybe another day, she thought. Would it be today that she would have to finally grow up? To stop her wonderful dreams of perfection; that was an objective she had ever since her father had no guilt in yelling at her from a surprisingly young age.


              Walking down the old beaten path, she noticed the sky had darkened. The sun had gone to slumber as the clouds turned the sky into a lifeless gray. Not that it was a depressing sort of gray, it was calm, peaceful even. Silence had set in and the scene seemed like the start of any classic horror movie. Oh, how interesting it would be to be stuck in one, she pondered. She would actually take being in a horror movie over what she would have to do in a few moments. A perfect catalyst, beautiful in its own respect had been avoided by her. A prolonged life living in her dream world - was it worth it?


                Ted. Ted was her thread to earth. He was the heart line that she had to follow. It was terrible to believe that someone as warm, someone that shone as bright as him could be cold dead. That was the point of this trip. She did not believe such an absurd statement. It’s just a dream Andromeda, she tried to reassure herself. You’ll find Ted up the next morning with the smell of eggs and bacon wafting from the kitchen. But he would never return, and deep down, she knew that.




                Her life had a new beating force.


                Her heart was no longer the main beat that governed her life anymore. She did not feel the same urge, the same compulsion to keep it pumping. No, it was something much stronger, much faster, something that burned brighter and steadier.


                It started with a simple phrase, sometimes not even considered a sentence. Three letters that somehow magically arranged to make such an impact on her life, to change the course of her orbit.


                Those three letters were the project of two people. It took two to tango. It took two for most stars in a universe. She thanked the fates that she found just the right star. He was her goldilocks complex.


                She didn’t need planets. She needed no moons. They had abandoned her early on in her life in reaching this decision. She just needed him to never let her go. He was her anchor to Earth. He was her pulse.


                “I do.”






                She could only hide it for so long.


                The sky was twinkling as the heavens smiled upon her. His hand was clasped around hers. It was so much larger than her petite size, yet it fit so perfectly.


                She had always thought of herself as a romantic, a dreamer. She was a child’s soul living in a changing world. So the obvious answer was to invent a new one. Was he part of reality or her dream world?


                It had not been her first outing with a boy. It had just been the first with a boy who wasn’t from her house. It was the first that was hushed up. No one could know of this date with Ted or she would forever be scorned by her family and shunned. She pitied Sirius and her uncle Alphard for that.


                It wasn’t as if this relationship was going to last anyways.


                Reality had shown its face for the first time in her mind. Strange as it was, she learned it spoke the steady truth. It didn’t have the same numbing saccharine taste of dreams that sometimes suffocated her. It was a fresh mountain breeze, pure dizzying oxygen to her lungs.


                She did not comprehend.




                “What do you mean your family knows nothing of this?”


                Something had struck her. It was the blunt weight of his words.


                “Did you expect to keep this relationship a secret from everyone?”


                The pain brought stinging tears to her eyes. She wanted to escape, to breathe, but most of all she wanted to yell. She could not find her voice.


                “Are you ashamed of me?”


                Far from it, the complete opposite; she hoped he would understand. She wanted to say something but an asteroid crashed down her throat. Paralyzed in fear, her whole body shook in a new wave of fresh tears. I wish I could tell you everything, she thought. I wish I could show you where I stand.


                “Ted, please don’t leave me.”


                Reality was not a breeze but a shower of debris.


Red Giant.


                She was literally swollen in bliss.


                No, bliss wasn’t a fitting word to describe her state. Bliss was a miraculous state of madness, of ecstasy. She always thought bliss was unfair. Bliss only came to the lucky in the universe. She had as much chance as a losing poker hand. But he was her reward.


                She paid with blood and sweat for this.


                Was she euphoric? No, euphoria overcomplicates the minimalistic and simple beauty of the scene. Was she joyous? Well, tears of joy did stream down her face; however, she decided she had a bit of a grudge against the overwhelming number of vowels in the word.


Her mind rolled around for a proper word that could really describe her feelings when she noticed a man’s hand clamped on to hers. His hand was slightly too large for hers, yet it fit as snug as Cinderella’s shoe.            


                She let it go. No word could really describe that moment.


But happy would be close enough.


                That day, Nymphadora Tonks took her first breath.


                Andromeda wasn’t a rabbit-hearted girl anymore.


Core Collapse.


                As she was a dreamer, logical approaches were never her strong suit.


                “You will be married to a filthy mudblood?”


                She cringed at the vocabulary her father insisted on using.  Her family always had a strange aversion to wizards not born to magical families - an aversion her sisters shared, her estranged mother shared and shared most passionately with her father, Cygnus Black.


                He always spoke of something that she didn’t understand whenever he scolded her. Honour. Well daddy dearest, what honour would there be if you scorned others by their bloodline?


She had never thought of herself as snarky or any other traits attributed to Slytherins.  For a while, she contemplated the idea that her father bribed the sorting hat.


                She felt herself shrink at the immensity of her father. Anger was radiating off of him but something new was bubbling under the surface of her skin too.


                Atoms began colliding. Hydrogen was turning to helium. Fusion began to build.


                This was her life. They were no longer her family. Families didn’t simply look away and disown. Families didn’t prune their bloodline. Families didn’t blast their children off their family tree.


                She didn’t give a damn for the world anymore.




                A mind of a six year old was simply a reincarnation of innocence.


                Looking into one was similar to looking into a looking glass. The world was strange and charming. Everything seemed so large and overpowering. She felt so miniscule compared to the others around her.


                She had an aura of energy. But how could it be compared to her two sisters?


                Bellatrix was quite older. She was the epitome of contrast: pale skinned, dark haired, heavy lidded with lips tainted to the shade of blood. From the first taste, she had always suffered from bloodlust. She wanted to be powerful. She wanted change. She was a star, bright but burned young.


                Narcissa was younger. She was the epitome of a porcelain doll: pale, fair, blonde and shy. She was a perfect lady, never failing in manners. She was her mother’s pride as Bellatrix was her father’s. She was a blooming flower in a family of stars.


                Andromeda was the middle. She was the family disappointment. She was not passionate, nor focused, nor the epitome of a perfect wife to a powerful pureblood in her future years. She had an odd obsession with astronomy that no one seemed to understand. She seldom paid attention to reality and was normally at the other end of the whip.


                The three Black sisters were of the same bloodline yet completely different. No one understood. No one comprehended. No one wanted to.


                She was the remnants of a dying star.




                Stars normally had a counterpart. Stars were normally one of a pair.


                People tended to follow that concept as well.


                “Andromeda is it?”


                She looked up from her telescope. Staring at the stars for so long had blinded her a bit so she stopped to regain her composure.


                “I’m Ted. I’m from your astronomy class.”


                She stared, dumbfounded. She couldn’t regain her eyesight. He blinded her. He was a spectrum of colours. He burned as bright as a blue star.


                Most of all she noticed, he was beautiful.


                Was this gravity at work?




                In her hand was a bouquet of orchids.


                 Her mind went spiralling off into a tangent again. She had a rather short attention span leaving her mind to go to Wonderland and back. This time she was thinking of what or if there was any etiquette for flowers for a tomb. She chose orchids because she knew they were always Ted’s favourites though she fondly remembered mocking him on several occasion for choosing a rather feminine flower. Suddenly, she passed a familiar shape made of luminous marble. The grave stone was far more polished than all the others indicating a difference of date. She remarked that, of course, it was Ted’s.


                The space seemed to close in around her. Her throat started to constrict from the pressure of the outside world pushing against her. Tears of pain flew from her eyes. She started to see spots. Her vision was becoming blurred. The only thing she could see clearly was “Ted Tonks 1953-1998”.  She fell to the ground.  The only thing that was on her mind was Ted. She could hear the sound of dreams shattering to pieces. The wind scattered those broken shards into oblivion.  She was finally waking from her slumber. The sweet numbing taste of illusion flew to her nose again, not wanting to lose without a battle. She had to wake up. It was time. She couldn’t pretend anymore. She had to escape for Ted and for her sanity. Ted was gone.


                She took in a breath of reality, so sweet to her deprived lungs.



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