Symphony | Andromeda Black

Christmas

It was fair to say that Druella was not pleased by the plans for Christmas. But she could do nothing, and dutifully added Orion and Walburga to the list of guests that was already populated by her own family, the Rosiers. Baby Sirius would be left at home with the house elves and the nurse, though the girls pleaded to have their cousin with them, especially Narcissa, who was known as the baby on the Rosier side. As December began, their mother spent her time striding about the house, muttering darkly about her in-laws, and barking orders at the house elves.

It was a cold Wednesday two weeks before Christmas Day. Cygnus was in his study, as usual, and Bellatrix was in her room. Andromeda was doing her work for Miss Travers the governess, listening to the rain that pelted the high windows of the dining room and wishing her mother had ordered a fire. Druella sat with a hand at her forehead, quill in hand, frowning at her list.

Narcissa tried to climb up on her lap, but she pushed her off, brushing down her skirt.

"Not now, Narcissa," she said, though as far as Andromeda could remember, she had never let any of her children sit on her lap. "You'll dirty my skirt. Andromeda, calculate this for me, please. If we have twenty six people, how many turkeys should we get in?"

Andromeda didn't really know, but obediently guessed, going for a low number because she knew her mother and the other ladies wouldn't eat much. "Perhaps three or four?"

Druella sucked on the end of her quill, then stopped, because that was a Common Habit. "Four may be too much, but then again, three may be too little, especially if Walburga's there. Too much is better than too little, and Papa always likes a good meal. We'll get six."

"Yes, six," she nodded to herself and wrote it down. "And you must be sure to eat properly, Andromeda. You ate far too much at dinner last night. You don't want to end up like Aunt Walburga, do you?"

Andromeda looked down at her schoolwork. "No, Mother."

"And keep your mouth closed. It's such a shame we can't fix that ugly tooth until you're fully grown," she sighed, looking at Andromeda's snaggle tooth like it was a personal insult.

Her daughter blushed and quickly shut her mouth.

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Christmas arrived with no snow. In the Black house, it was very subdued. Christmas was a muggle holiday after all, and the only reason they celebrated it was to bring the family together. There was no tree, no gifts, no Father Christmas, and no decorations. The children didn't mind. They had never known any of those things. Instead Andromeda and Narcissa snuck into the kitchens, where the house elves let them lick out the bowl for the pudding, and they got freshly baked cream buns. Unfortunately, this also meant they got into a bit of a mess. Their mother wiped cream off Andromeda's nose with slightly more force than necessary, and wrestled them into clean dresses with more than a little annoyance.

"I have told you countless times not to go into the kitchen. If you do it again, I shall have to tell Father. It's not a place for young girls."

"But why not, Mother?" Andromeda asked, her voice a little muffled by the dress that was being tugged over her head.

"It's not an appropriate place for you."

"But we like it there, Mother," Narcissa protested, wincing as her fair hair was attacked by a hairbrush. "They're nice."

"Don't be ridiculous, Narcissa. Our blood is pure, theirs is tainted. House elves aren't even human. They're animals, just as mudbloods and bloodtraitors are," the brush was yanked through a particularly vicious knot, and Narcissa let loose a hiss of pain.