Notes: This was written for the fantastic Paula (Exceeds Expectations) for the Gift-Giving Extravaganza.

Paula: I know Ted/Andromeda isn't one of your super all-time faves, even if it was on your list. I have no excuse other than I started shipping them hard recently, and I must confess that I'm quite happy with this this story. I hope you consider this one a worthy gift, and that it manages to get at least a smile out of you.

A million thanks to Marissa (TeddyBear334) for beta-reading this piece!

Enjoy!

Not Your Choice

He knew that the truth wouldn't suffice, so he hoped she wouldn't ask for explanations.

"It's over," he said, expecting his words to devastate her, but she only raised her chin arrogantly.

He scanned her expression, searching for a sign of distress in her features. Predictably enough, there was none. She looked as composed as ever. If anything, her angelic looks made her seem even detached - the pallid moonlight that filtered through the window danced on her neat curls as it always did, and it gave her white skin an eerie glow.

(Briefly, he wondered why the library –of all places- was so dimly lit at night. Then again, when he was looking for a quiet place in which to freely converse and do other things with his girlfriend, it hardly mattered.)

"It's not over until I say it's over," she finally answered.

Andromeda could be so commanding, so proud, so Black. No other girl could carry herself with the poise she displayed. And when she acted like that, she wasn't his Andromeda, the one who laughed, cried, and asked him so many questions that it made him feel that her inner self just had no limits.

But Ted Tonks loved her anyway, even at her worst.

When she acted so smugly, he could see her upbringing through her manners. He could recall the girl that used to call him Mudblood and swear they could never be friends. She saw that girl that was so curious, but so scared, and let her preconceived notions make the best of her.

In their earlier years at school, they'd coincided in the library a few times. Being the kind of social person he was, he used to sit next to her and try to make conversation – at least, when he was feeling brave. All his friends said he should give up, and he would have if she hadn't smiled so much around him, or if she hadn't let her questions about his Muggle upbringing escape her lips.

By their fifth year, they were sort-of friends. Though, true to her nature, Andromeda still liked to deny it.

You're charming, Ted, she said the first time he dared to ask her on a date. A very charming Mudblood indeed – and that's not going to change.

His blood didn't change, but her heart did at their beginning of their sixth year. However, still in a very Andromeda fashion, she made sure to give him hell before then. Ted could've sworn that she'd engineered her studying schedule to match his, only so he would ask her out again and again and again. Only so she could say no again and again and again.

That was Andromeda sometimes.

And maybe it was for the best.

"You can't force me to stay," he protested.

"Two weeks ago, Bellatrix cursed you just so you'd stay away from me."

"Thanks for the recollection."

"You didn't end things after that." She was immune to his sarcasm. "Is this about my sister?"

"Not at all," he said, wishing he could just lie.

"Then I don't believe for a single second that you don't love me anymore. So what is it?"

Had Andromeda been insecure, she would've doubted his love, making it easier for him to end their romance. But she knew she was beautiful, clever and loved, and she wasn't willing to start doubting. Ted had to admit that she wouldn't have loved her so strongly if she hadn't been so eager to accept and secure his love.

And he knew that the truth wouldn't suffice, but he had no other choice than to be open about it.

"We've been two years together and we both know… 'Dromeda, this relationship can't be," he said. "Here we are, hiding like filthy criminals…" He breathed deep, looking at her in the eyes. "I've always known that eventually, you'll have to choose. And I-I can't bear the thought of you turning your back to me. I need to leave on my own."

"Well, I've made my choice." Ted raised his eyebrows, ready to show his disbelief, but Andromeda rolled her eyes and kept talking. "A sister that dares to raise her wand against my very best friend –not to mention my boyfriend- isn't a sister that's worth keeping."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. On his sleepless nights, he'd tortured himself with the idea of her turning around to leave him, fading back into her family, getting herself a new Slytherin boyfriend, and assuming her ancient ways.

Was she implying that she could easily choose him over her family?

"But what about your little sister?" he asked. "And what about your parents?"

"My parents didn't teach me a single thing worth remembering," she said. "And why would you be under the delusion that Narcissa and I have anything in common? You know me better than that!"

"But don't you love her?" Ted had no siblings, but he'd always thought that brothers and sisters loved each other by default, no matter how despicable they could be.

"All I know is that I love you, Ted, but I don't love them. Is that wrong?"

He'd never asked her if she loved her sisters, assuming that part of her did. But when he truly gave it a thought, he understood that someone as pragmatic as Andromeda wouldn't think love could be granted undeservedly

Ted knew she liked neither of her sisters – no one really liked Bellatrix and her cruel ways, and Narcissa was as vapid and vane as she was beautiful. Andromeda wasn't the kind to love someone she didn't like; she'd built her own moral compass and she wouldn't waste time on nurturing a relationship with someone who she thought was completely wrong.

When the realization came to him, Ted only respected her more for her strength.

But he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"It's not wrong, but... but we're too young, 'Dromeda. You'll regret the choices you want to make, if I let you. You'll learn to love them."

"Sadly, I still have to make a choice. And I have an adult's choice to make, no less: either go back to a life I loathe, forever, or take a risk at a life I know I will love. Forever. It's my choice, not yours. It's not as easy as I'm making it sound either. But ever since the day I finally accepted... finally accepted my feelings for you, you became a hope. I was hoping in the end, I would want to choose you. And I believe I just did."

Ted felt his throat go dry, so he swallowed hard.

They'd never really sat down to discuss a life together. Andromeda had never brought up the subject, and Ted had always thought that their relationship would end sooner or later because of her Pureblood family. But just then, she was naming him as a choice as valid as any. It all seemed wonderfully, miraculously crazy.

And all the dreams he never allowed himself to have bloomed at once, and for the first time, he felt a kind of twisted hope that he'd never attached to her mighty figure.

"You're insane, did you know that?"

"No, Bellatrix is insane. I'm the normal one."

Ted admired her ability to joke in the middle of a serious conversation (and she used to be so humorless when he met her!) He rewarded her efforts with a laugh, and he could practically feel her melting at the sound, becoming soft and sweet and his again.

Then he remembered that accepting his wildest dreams as valid would put his girlfriend through hell. And that's what he'd been trying to avoid all along.

"I just can't do this to you," he said weakly as a last resort. He stared into her unyielding gray eyes, and he knew he was begging to win a lost battle. "I just can't."

"Don't you get it?" Her voice was high-pitched and piercing, and her features didn't look dignified anymore. Ted could only stare in awe as his girlfriend lost her composure, letting her emotions flow through her veins. "I'm running away anyway, sooner or later! If you choose not to follow me, don't do it because you don't want to make me choose. That is not your problem. If you choose not to follow me, make your choice because you don't love me, or because you'd be in danger thanks to my psychotic sister… Do it because the fact that I'd run away means that the only thing I'd have left for you is myself. No money, no reputation, no family or friends – just my own person. But don't you dare do what you think it's best for me because at this point, I'll only accept an 'I don't love you enough' as a valid excuse"

She was out of breath by the end of her rant, and once she did finish speaking, Ted let himself observe how her cheeks had reddened and her hair was, for once, less than perfect because of her desperate gestures. He took in her unrestrained passion, her impulsive words, and understood quite quickly that he'd never had a chance to win the battle.

He did love her. Ted was only eighteen, but he already knew that no matter what, he would never love any woman the way he loved Andromeda. Whenever he tried to describe it to himself, he just found that there were no words – so taken and mesmerized he was by her scent, her sight, her very name and the soul it contained…

Then she said that she could give him nothing more than her beautiful self.

And he knew that the truth wouldn't suffice but, for him, that was more than enough.

"I'll go to the end of the world with you, 'Dromeda, if that's what will make you happy."

She looked at him in the eyes in a way she never had before. She had never looked as vulnerable as she did just then, all passion and feeling, and very little Black remaining in her image.

"Ted, you're my only joy," she admitted softly. "You taught me to see life in a way I didn't think existed and if… if you go away, I won't ever be the same person I was before I met you. I would be happy in the end of the world, Ted, if it means that you're there with me."

Once again, he was left without words. Andromeda wasn't the kind to make such confessions. It finally dawned on him that she did want to spend a lifetime by his side, and that he'd agreed to an idea that minutes before he had thought impossible. A sense of wonder filled him, along with the understanding that he was agreeing to something very big, very risky, something that was out of his control.

She seemed to read his mind, because she avoided his gaze and spoke thinly.

"So what now?" she asked hurriedly, as if she hoped he'd forget she ever spoke of her feelings. "I know we've never discussed marriage but-"

"Say no more, 'Dromeda. Just wait." He couldn't let it happen so softly, quietly, as they'd been holding their relationship for those two years. As if they were doing something wrong. "We're not engaged just yet. Ted Tonks' future fiancée won't get out of this without one hell of a proposal. Just wait for it."

The way Andromeda smiled and laughed and let tears of mirth and relief escape her eyes made Ted look forward to the rest of his life. He wanted to let out his elation somehow, but the words evaded him. So he kissed her sweet lips, as he'd kissed them so many times, and as he hoped to kiss them until the very last of their days.

And he knew that the truth wouldn't suffice, but he loved her, and that's all there was to it.