Symphony | Andromeda Black

An Eventful Dinner

Christmas came quickly, and so did the snow. By the time the three Black sisters reached their house, Andromeda was glad to escape the blinding white of the outside world, and hoped the cats would be all right in their shed. Druella was visiting somebody or other and Cygnus was writing in his study, so things were as usual. Bellatrix went off to her room, and Narcissa and Andromeda had a fire lit in the drawing room and sat in there, respectively sketching and working on homework until dinner was ready. Bellatrix didn't appear, but Druella arrived home and Cygnus appeared in the dining room. Poor Narcissa still had eight months until she was thirteen, and sat out at the children's table, leaving Andromeda alone with her parents. Druella's face was caked in makeup, and she was wearing a new blue gown that matched her eyes. Cygnus' hair was receding, even more than she had seen in September, and what remained of the brilliant black was shot through with grey. He stabbed at his food irritably, clearly in a bad mood, and both steadily ignored each other.

The only sound was the gentle wind outside, and the clinking of cutlery, at least until Druella spoke at last, when Andromeda was halfway through her steak.

"I had a letter today, Cygnus," her voice was very calm and quiet.

"Oh yes?" He said vaguely.

"About Bellatrix. About Lestrange."

Cygnus took a sip of his wine and sighed as though he were dealing with a tiresome child. "We have discussed this."

"Well, I want to discuss it again. When were you going to tell me she was engaged?"

"When the time was right."

"The time," Druella said, her voice very cold. "The time! You seem to have forgotten just how young your daughter is."

Andromeda was cutting up her food very small, head bent over her plate, but she was listening intently. Her parents both seemed to have forgotten she was there.

"She is old enough to marry, Druella. Your own mother was younger."

"My mother is a fool," she said icily. "As was I. And Bellatrix will be too, if she goes through with it."

"Enough," Cygnus' voice held a finality Andromeda was familiar with. It meant the conversation was over.

Druella scoffed and picked up her glass of wine. "You refuse to listen. It's not as though my opinion matters here anyway."

"Druella," his voice was flat. "Please stop acting like a child."

"Shut up," Druella raised her wand, and the tureen of peas smashed into the wall by Cygnus' head, shards falling to the floor, making Andromeda jumped violently, and out in the hall, she heard Narcissa. Her younger sister pushed the door open. "Mother? What's going on?"

Cygnus simply put down his knife and fork and wiped his lips with his napkin. "Don't make a scene," he said tiredly. "I think we have had quite enough of those."

"A scene! You spend half your life writing some godforsaken book which will never be good enough to be published! Your masterpiece," her voice was dripping with derision. "An old fool, that's all you are, Cygnus."

Her cheeks were very pink, and she knocked back her drink.

"I think you've had enough,"  Cygnus said in disgust, yanking his napkin from his collar. "Look at yourself. You're a disgrace. You're a drunk, Druella."

He had to duck to avoid the gravy, and then the mashed potatoes, which spattered over the wall, and in turn the crystal wine glasses smashed right by Druella.

Andromeda ducked and half dragged her sister out of the room, and over the sounds of screaming and smashing, they stopped in the hall and took a breath.

"Bellatrix is getting married?" Narcissa asked, eyes wide.

"Apparently," was all Andromeda managed.

They slid to the carpet of the stairs, and Andromeda put her head in her hands, still listening to the smashing.

"What's going on?"

It was Bellatrix. Pale faced, with her thick black hair loose around her shoulders and wearing her black silk dressing gown, she was standing at the top of the stairs.

"Father and Mother are arguing," Narcissa said. "About you."

Bellatrix simply raised a dark eyebrow. "How refreshing. Let me guess, Druella is drunk, and she's insulted his terrible book. That's always enough to get him riled."

Andromeda's hand covered her mouth. "You mustn't call her that. And you mustn't say that about Father's book, it's-"

"A modern masterpiece about man's place in magical society?" Bellatrix's voice was dry. "I've heard him rambling at dinner parties too, you know. As for Druella, she doesn't care anymore. She's spent most of her time since September drunk."

Narcissa's forehead furrowed. "How do you know? Haven't you been at school?"

Bellatrix shrugged one thin shoulder. "Some of the time."

The three of them sat on the stairs in silence, at least until there was no more noise from the dining room. Eventually, Bellatrix went back to her bedroom, and Andromeda and Narcissa gingerly opened the dining room doors. It was empty except for the house elves, and almost everything, from the plates to the glasses, even the vases and the fruit bowl, were shattered, and food was spilled and scattered around the room.

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Narcissa came to Andromeda's room that night. She couldn't sleep but didn't want to talk, and pretended she was asleep. But Narcissa wasn't deterred.

"Andy," she whispered, and then gave her a sharp pinch. "Andy!"

Andromeda opened her eyes and scowled, rubbing her arm. "Ow."

"Sorry. Andy, why's Mother not happy about Bellatrix getting married? If it's Lestrange, isn't it a good thing?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm trying to sleep."

Narcissa was persistent. "Do you think she'll move out soon, then? Could I have her room?"

"Is that all you care about? Her room?"

"No! Well.....it is the biggest."

Andromeda scoffed and pulled the duvet over her head.

"Andy!" Narcissa pulled it off again. "Don't be like that. I'm sorry, I know I sound selfish. I....I mean, we'll miss her, but it has to be a good thing. Grandmother will probably be delighted."

"Of course she will," Andromeda said drily. "I'm surprised she didn't have Mother married as soon as she was born."

Narcissa wasn't listening. She was too busy wondering if their mother would let her wear pink to Bellatrix's wedding, especially if it clashed with Druella herself, because, "The stylist told her last time that pink is her colour."

"Narcissa, stop being such a vain little idiot and go back to bed," Andromeda snapped at last.

Narcissa's face visibly crumpled, and she immediately felt guilty.

"All right, then," Narcissa mumbled, and departed. When she was gone, Andromeda flopped back in bed and sighed loudly.