Symphony | Andromeda Black

Shopping

Andromeda rarely went shopping with her mother. Druella didn't often bring her daughters out anyway, and when she did, it was usually Narcissa. Andromeda didn't like shopping, hanging around outside changing rooms, wandering between racks and racks of clothes, or the awkward embarrassment of being measured.

Today, her grandmother brought her first to Diagon Alley, then sniffed and said the clothes there were mostly tacky rubbish, so they went to other places instead, places perfumed with heavy scents that hung to her clothes and gave her a headache, places with high price tags and terrifyingly perfect shop assistants around every corner.

She found it hard to choose clothes, worried about prices and styles. Her grandmother wanted her to have the kind of girly things she knew Narcissa would love, and when she grew impatient waiting for her to choose, she picked them out herself, a size too small, and preened when the girl asked if Andromeda was her sister. Andromeda knew it was just flattery. Roseanne looked even older than what she was, a woman on her forties. She was not at all similar to Druella, other than her blue eyes, though she looked the image of Andromeda's aunt Millicent – she was thin and bony, with sharp features, and had long black hair.

She despaired over Andromeda's hair and her snaggle tooth, and then she said something unexpected.

"Your mother had an ugly tooth like that too, when she was little," she pushed some hangers aside, and sniffed. "We fixed it."

"How?" Andromeda asked timidly. She knew about muggle dentists from Glenda, but she had never been to one herself and could not imagine her mother going to one.

"Magic, of course. She screamed bloody murder, but we got there in the end. We must do yours soon. Do you think purple would suit me, Andromeda?"

Andromeda privately thought purple would make her look rather sickly, but she didn't want to disagree. "Yes Grandmother."

"Hm. What colour what you like for a gown? I imagine we'll have to get you measured."

Andromeda almost shuddered at the word measured. "I like....red," she said.

"Don't be silly dear, red wouldn't suit your complexion. You're too dark. How about a nice girly pink?"

She didn't look for an answer, sweeping ahead to find somebody to measure Andromeda. The girl hustled them into a changing room, flicking her wand so the measuring tape did the work, telling Andromeda to stick her arms out.

"Nothing too open," Roseanne said from her chair, where she was watching over the latest edition of Which Witch? "She'll still very underdeveloped."

Andromeda burned with shame, especially when she had to take off her dress and stand there in her baggy knickers and small bra. She could see her grandmother raising her thin penciled eyebrows.

In the end, her grandmother bought her a long pink gown, along with her first pair of high heels. She had to show her how to walk properly, though Andromeda and Narcissa had played games long ago of shuffling around in their mother's shoes.

When they got back to the house, she was exhausted, and sat to dinner with her grandparents. Her grandfather reached for the gravy and asked if she was still friends with the negro girl.

"Really, Sebastian!" Roseanne scolded, as she laid her napkin neatly on her lap. "You can't say that word these days! You have to say "coloured." They get very het up if you use words like that."

"Whatever she is," he said mildly. "I hear her father is thick with the Weasleys. Very thick."

Andromeda's cutlery stilled. She knew what being friendly with the Weasleys meant in her family. She licked her lips. "Well, Glenda never says anything about that, Grandfather."

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes glittering. "You just keep an eye on that girl. A time is coming soon where we'll have to pick sides. And I can't help but wonder if some of our friends are not quite so loyal as they pretend."

Roseanne gave a theatrical sigh. "I do wish you wouldn't speak about politics at the table, Sebastian," she said. "Anyway, it means nothing to Andromeda. You know that age. They only care about parties and boys at her age."

It did mean something to Andromeda, actually. Quite a lot. Underneath the table, she curled her fingers, worrying about the future. She knew a war was coming up – there wasn't one magical child in Britain who didn't. It was all over the news.

"Don't eat too much now," her grandmother said to her, jolting her back to the present. "You don't want to feel all bloated at the dinner party later."

"Yes Grandmother."

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Her grandmother gave her a long lecture before they went. She showed her the correct cutlery to use, and how to greet their host. She told her not to eat too much, but to nibble her food gracefully. She told her that she must sit up straight and smile, but to hide her tooth. She showed her how to laugh prettily in a little tinkle without opening her mouth, and told her not to talk too much. Andromeda didn't think she would talk at all. She felt that if she opened her mouth even a little she might get sick on her new dress. Her stomach was queasy all evening.

She practiced walking in her small heels again, almost sick with worry, worry that she would see her mother, worry that she was disobeying her, and worry about the party in general. Her grandmother despaired over her tangled hair and had a lady come quickly to smooth it out and put it in a twist. Then she put some makeup on her, and the result was that Andromeda was virtually unrecognizable. She looked....she looked a little like Bellatrix, actually, something like her sister's sharp face staring out from the mirror, dark eyes outlined. Thinking about Bellatrix made her heart twist horribly in her chest, and she pushed the feeling down. She was getting good at that.

Roseanne wore a black dress that made her look very pale, and before they went, Andromeda saw her take a quick swig from a tinted bottle, and when she looked at her face again, most of her little wrinkles had disappeared. Her grandfather wore his fine black dress robes, and held his silver topped cane in one hand, and they took a carriage. Andromeda wished they could have apparated, but Roseanne said she didn't see the point in arriving at all if they didn't cause a stir, which they would in the new gilded carriage. Andromeda saw her own unfamiliar made up face staring back in the window and wanted to go home.