Symphony | Andromeda Black

The Other Side

It was a cold, quiet Christmas. Nobody came for Christmas dinner, and Cygnus and Druella sat at opposite ends of the table and didn't talk.

Narcissa was focused on the wedding and what she would wear, to the point where Andromeda wanted to shake her. Was that all her little sister cared about, some stupid fake fairytale wedding?

She was annoyed so much one evening that she went out into the garden with her sketchbook and pencils to get away from it. It was cold out here, but Andromeda's cloak was charmed, and she clutched it around her shoulders as she stumped through half melted snow, Max following her and leaving little paw prints. Andromeda was bored of the house, of the garden. She felt trapped in it, and wasn't sure how she had spent almost every minute of every day for eleven years in it. She went to the very bottom and stood by the fence, then noticed the same loose one that had been there for years.

A crazy idea entered her mind, so crazy she looked back to the house quickly, almost as if she'd get punished for just thinking it. But nobody was there. Bellatrix was in her room. Druella was in the parlour and Cygnus was in his study. She knew nobody except Narcissa would bother looking for her, and her younger sister was busy writing letters to her friends. Making an impulsive decision, Andromeda slid quickly through the gap. She was a slender girl, and fit through, though her cloak snagged on a splinter and tore a little hole. She bit her lip but decided she'd ask the house elves to repair it as soon as possible, before Druella discovered it. She looked back, but Max sat down in the snow, and eyed her as if to tell her that if she was going she was going alone. She'd only ever dreamed of what the other side of the fence looked like, and at first it was simply the blank white of snow, at least until she left the bubble of magic around the house. So many things popped into existence at once that she shivered, rows of houses, street signs –

Andromeda gasped as metal monsters sped down the road in front of her. They were all different colours and sizes, some of them small, some of them massive. Andromeda wasn't easily scared, but she stared at them in almost fright. Then, as some of them cleared, she saw what she hadn't seen for years. The playground across the road, the one she used to watch the muggle children play in. Andromeda walked quickly across the road, causing a metal monster to brake, and the person inside to beep and yell at her. She hurried onwards, and then stared. She only knew what the things were because of children's books. There were swings, two slides, a little roundabout, a seesaw....

Due to the cold weather it was mostly empty, save for a small girl on one of the swings.

Andromeda knew that playgrounds were for children, but she had always wanted it more than anything, and took her chance. She went on the slide first, gasping at the cold metal, and then the roundabout, the rope climbing wall, and finally the swing beside the little girl.

She couldn't work out how to swing at first, but then got the hang of it, laughing as she went soaring up into the sky. After a moment, she felt self conscious. The little girl was staring at her. Eventually she spoke.

"Why are you dressed all weird? Are you in fancy dress?"

Andromeda blushed pink. "I.....I suppose. I'm dressed as a witch."

"You're a rubbish witch," the child told her, kicking her scuffed sandals off the ground. With a start, Andromeda remembered that muggle girl she had spoken to through the fence, all those years ago. Muggles were strange. And she was more than a little insulted by the "rubbish witch" comment.

"Oh really?" She asked. "Why?"

"I was a witch last Halloween. You're sposed to have green skin. And a big fake nose. And a wand. Where's your wand?"

"Left it at home," Andromeda replied, and smiled to herself.

"You should have brought it. Then you'd look real."

Andromeda kicked the ground and began to swing again, not sure what to say. She felt light headed with rebellion. She'd actually left home without permission. She'd actually gone to the playground. She was actually talking to a muggle and swinging on swings. It seemed like a dream, a segment of somebody else's life she was living temporarily.

"What if I told you I was a real witch?" She said, almost surprising herself. "And I could do magic, and I went to a special magic school? Would you believe me?"

The girl squinted at her for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope. That's stupid. Witches aren't real, anyways."

With that final note of wisdom, she hopped neatly of the swing, and with a quick, "Bye!" left the playground, the gate rattling after her. Andromeda swung slowly, smiling slightly to herself. It was strange to think that in this muggle girl's world, witches weren't real. They were just green skinned women in storybooks, creatures to dress up as. Andromeda knew that the little girl's everyday life would be just as strange to her as hers was to the child.

It was evening now, and much chillier, and she decided to go home. When she pushed herself through the fence, she took a breath. Max had gone inside, but as she stood by the pond, she heard the back door of the house opening. It was Narcissa, telling her to come back inside, and when she asked her what she'd been doing in the garden, Andromeda just shrugged and said, "Sketching."