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Andromeda had just finished restocking the potions on floor four and was considering ducking up to the tea room for some lunch when the doors to the Beatrix Loughty ward burst open with a crash, thrown open by Ted Tonks, who stormed through them with an uncharacteristic face like thunder. He didn’t notice her as he moved quickly down the corridor and disappeared round the corner.
That wasn’t the Ted she knew. He was endlessly optimistic, always with a friendly smile and a nod when they passed in the corridors. Wondering what had put him in such a mood, Andromeda quietly opened the door to the ward, carefully peeking through and instantly finding her answers.
She couldn’t see the body, but she knew whose bed it was. A hard lump formed in her throat that she struggled to swallow around. Joey O’Riley was a bright and happy six-year-old boy who had come in with Fwooper’s cough a couple of months before. He had responded to the initial treatments but after a week at home, had been brought back to the hospital, his cough worse than before. Ted had been working tirelessly to come up with a solution, endless days and long nights in the research library, trying to come up with anything that would work.
And now it was too late.
Andromeda backed out of the ward silently, careful not to draw attention from Joey’s parents or the Healers that were with them. It didn’t take long to find Ted. In the months that she’d known him, she’d learnt of his favourite places for some peace and quiet in the hospital. He was where she expected him to be, in the basement, sitting on an old bed that had been stored there, his legs drawn up and his head buried in his knees.
He didn’t look up when she lifted herself onto the bed beside him or when she rested her hand lightly on his shoulder. But he didn’t tell her to leave, so she settled silently beside him, her hand slowly moving up and down his back. When he finally looked up at her, he made no effort to stop the tears silently streaming down his face, and Andromeda had to blink hard to stop her own from falling.
They were close, so close that she could see Ted’s eyes darting back and forth across her face. They fell to her lips, and for one long, breathless moment, she had a wild thought that he might close the gap between them. A fleeting thought crossed her mind that if he did, she might not stop him.
But the long moment ended when he turned to face the wall across from them, ‘It’s not fair.’ He said finally, his voice breaking as he spoke.
‘I know.’
Roughly running a hand over his face, Ted stood up and started pacing back and forth between Andromeda and the wall across from her. ‘I thought we had it. I thought I’d done it. His results were good. He was improving.’ He turned sharply and slapped his hand hard against the wall. ‘It was WORKING!’ He shouted, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor.
Without thinking, Andromeda slipped off the bed and crossed the space between them. It was easy to stand on her toes to wrap her arms around him. For a terrible moment, Ted froze, and she thought that she had made the wrong move. But then his arms wrapped around her, and his head dropped onto her shoulder.
They’d never been this close before, never touched like this. Andromeda couldn’t remember holding anyone like this, not even her family. She could feel his heart beating with hers, his warm breath against her neck. Andromeda closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, leaning completely into him, wanting to give him any comfort she could.
She didn’t know how much time passed while they stood there, holding each other, but no matter how much she might want to, Andromeda knew that they couldn’t stay there forever.
‘You did everything you could for him,’ she said quietly, breaking the silence surrounding him.
Ted lifted his head. She thought they’d been close before, but it was nothing compared to this, and she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into his sad eyes.
‘I should have done more,’ he replied, defeat clear in every syllable, ‘we’re magical. How is it that a six-year-old kid can just…die?’
He was right. Why hadn’t someone come up with a solution for Fwooper’s Cough? Narcissa had had it when she was little. Andromeda could still remember the honking coughs in the nursery, tears streaming down Cissy’s face with every attack. They’d been lucky, and her case had been mild. But there were too many children dying from it each year, their little lungs unable to handle the constant attacks.
But she knew that wasn’t what Ted needed to hear. ‘Magic can’t solve everything,’ was what she said instead, something the hospital constantly repeated in training. For moments like this where even magic wasn't enough.
But her brain was already beginning to turn over.
Silence fell over the corridor until Ted spoke again, ‘I need to go speak with his parents,’ but he didn’t make any attempt to move.
So Andromeda helped him. She stepped out of his arms and held her hand out to him. He looked at it for a long moment and she worried that she may have crossed a line until he took it, letting her lead him up the back stairs to the fourth floor.
They separated only when they reached the doors to the public area of the fourth floor. Ted turned to face her, his hand releasing hers, and her fingers curled against the loss.
Another silent moment passed between them, ‘I should head back to the lab–’ Andromeda started to say, but Ted cut her off by leaning down to kiss her cheek quickly.
‘Thank you,’ he said softly, her face grew warm and her heart thudded loudly in her chest.
‘Anytime,’ she managed to say breathlessly.
A small, grateful smile spread across his face, and he pushed through the door. Once he was gone, Andromeda brought her hands up to her cheeks, pressing against them as if that would do anything to reduce her blush.
She slowly made her way back down to the lab. Taking her time to savour Ted’s warm, spicy scent that clung to her robes, swirling around her as her mind swirled between him and ideas for just how she might improve the chances of kids with Fwooper’s Cough.
She should look at the pepper-up composition first, which had a cough suppressant in it.
Why hadn't she ever noticed that Ted’s eyes had a little bit of gold right near the iris?
A cough suppressant probably wasn’t the right solution. Plants with anti-inflammatory properties would be more useful.
What would his lips feel like against hers?
Andromeda shook her head as she arrived in the lab. Thinking about Ted Tonks was pointless. She had more important things to worry about.
Like curing Fwooper’s Cough once and for all.