Symphony | Andromeda Black

The Baby

Bellatrix was suddenly the favourite daughter. Druella took her shopping, bought her treats and gifts. Most of all, she was now allowed to sit with the adults at dinner, even though she wasn't even twelve yet. She basked in the attention, though Andromeda got jealous and told her it was just because the visitor had invited her into the dining room.

"What did he say to you anyway?"

"You're too young," Bellatrix said loftily, as she sorted out her new things after yet another shopping trip. "You wouldn't understand."

Andromeda sulked. "He's creepy."

"He is not. He's a real gentleman, really kind and nice, and –"

"You have a crush on him," Andromeda said, realising. She had only a faint idea of what a crush was from books, but it would explain the sudden interest, the flushing, the praise. Bellatrix blushed red.

"No I haven't!"

"Yes you do! He's older than Father!"

"No he isn't," Bellatrix spat. "You're jealous because you're a sad little girl, and nobody would ever look at you, not least somebody as refined as The Dark Lord."

"Is that was he calls himself? You're pathetic!"

Bellatrix shoved her. Hard. Andromeda lost her balance and fell back against her dresser, banging her head.

"Andy?" Bellatrix sounded worried. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Andromeda said, though she was dazed. The sisters rarely fought, and certainly never pushed each other. Bellatrix offered her her hand to pull her up, but Andromeda ignored it, and she pulled it back. "Fine," she snapped. "Be like that."

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It wasn't fair, Andromeda thought as she kicked the wall in her bedroom, then stopped because she was worried about getting in trouble. It wasn't fair that Bellatrix was suddenly the favourite, just because a friend of their parents had invited her to join the meeting. And Bellatrix liked the attention. Usually she hated when Druella was syrupy and fawning, and said that she was after something. But now she readily accepted all of the gifts and praise, all of the new clothes and books. Bellatrix didn't like reading, so just shoved them into shelves in the library. Andromeda had peered at them hopefully, but they were all thick and complicated, with titles like The Natural Rise Of Wizardkind and A Short History Of Mugggleborns.

It didn't look very short. It was about the width of your average thesaurus.

Narcissa was sick of it too, especially since Druella never let Bellatrix share her things with her sisters. She looked enviously at her pretty new dresses, her jewelled hairpieces, everything Andromeda and Narcissa were not allowed to so much as touch.

"You're the special one," Druella told her reverently, like it had been God himself who had beckoned Bellatrix forward. "He really took to you, didn't he, dear? Grandfather wrote to say how proud he was of you, and Candida Bulstrode was absolutely green with envy."

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The day before Bellatrix was to go back to school, the entire family was woken by her screaming. Andromeda got to her bedroom first, worried something bad had happened. By the sounds of things, her sister was being murdered. But she was lying in bed and crying.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm dying, Andy!" She sobbed. "I'm bleeding! There's so much blood!"

"What is the meaning of all this noise?" the voice of their mother came from behind Andromeda, she stepped to the side to let her through. "Bellatrix?"