Symphony | Andromeda Black

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Andromeda went home two days later. Druella did not ask her anything about it, nor welcomed her home, but Narcissa was glad to see her back. Andromeda did not tell her what had happened. She didn't think she could tell anyone. She gave her sister the clothes their grandmother had bought for her, because they were too tight, and Narcissa predictably looked lovely in all the pink and frills. They sat together that first evening in the parlour, where Andromeda did needlework and Narcissa was writing a letter. Andromeda's hands were shaking, and she kept pricking herself with her needle. She could still imagine that flash of green light, the sudden collapse to the floor......

"Are you all right?" Narcissa asked her, her voice breaking into her reverie.

"I'm fine."

"Your thumb is bleeding."

Andromeda frowned and sucked at it, as Narcissa looked the little scrapes Roseanne's jewelled rings had made on her cheek and frowned.

"What happened to your face, Andy?"

Andromeda pushed her needle through the fabric. "Grandmother slapped me. She wouldn't let me heal the marks."

"Oh," Narcissa said, and paused. "Well....maybe you asked for it. That's what Father would say."

"I know."

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They did not visit their father's family very much anymore, and it had been a year since Andromeda and Narcissa had seen Sirius and Regulus, but they came to the house with their parents in August. Sirius was eight now, and he had wavy black hair that spilled over his forehead, and his eyes were dark and glittered with good humour. They were Black traits, and were strong: Bellatrix, too, had black hair, though Andromeda had dark brown, and both had the eyes. It was Narcissa who looked out of place, blonde and blue eyed, a Rosier. You wouldn't think the girls were sisters at all, were it not for the fact that Narcissa had just one physical trait of their father's family – his sharp chin.

Andromeda was glad that she and Narcissa were told to sit out with the boys while the adults talked, and Sirius sat in the rocking chair and rocked so enthusiastically that she worried it would break and told him to stop.

"Sorry," he said, slowing down. The chair was so big his feet didn't touch the floor.

"Hey, Andy, is it true Bellatrix is a proper Death Eater?"

Andromeda looked to Regulus, but he was bored of the conversation and was lining up the little wooden ornaments in a row. Regulus was very unlike his brother, a serious, quiet child.

"Yes," she said quietly, but Sirius was loud.

"Oh brilliant! I'm going to be a Death Eater when I grow up too. Mother says I have to be seventeen, but if I'm extra good like Bellatrix, I might get there early."

Andromeda's stomach squeezed, but Sirius wasn't finished, rocking gently back and forth. "Are you gonna be a Death Eater too, Andy?"

Andromeda cleared her throat. "Of course," she said, and she smoothed her skirt.

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Druella had a dinner party in late August, just before they went back to school. It was the first since Cygnus had died, and she looked like her old self again, though Andromeda could not help but notice new little lines by her eyes, though she quickly drank some potion and they disappeared.

Narcissa was thirteen now, and could sit with the adults, though the novelty was wearing thin even by the middle of the night. Andromeda saw people who had been at the Bulstrode dinner, and felt ill, remembering them all around the corpse of the vampire, their grotesque laughing faces. She needn't have worried about any of them recognizing her. They all cooed over Narcissa, and Giles Bulstrode exclaimed heartily that with looks like hers they would have no trouble marrying her off. Narcissa was baffled at first, but soon shone in the centre of attention, irritating Andromeda, though she tried not to show it.

She and Lacrimosa, who had come with her mother and stepfather, excused themselves and went for a walk around the garden. The garden was always kept neatly cut by the house elves, and as Cygnus had never wanted the extra expense of hiring a gardener, the only plants that grew were daises and buttercups. It was almost half past ten, but only just getting dark, birds chirping in the trees. Their soft shoes crunched the gravel as they walked down the path. "Your sister is popular tonight," Lacrimosa said eventually.

"Oh, she always is," Andromeda said, and was surprised by how bitter she sounded. "I mean – everyone looks at Narcissa. She's always been little and cute."

"That's not why some of the men were looking at her, Andy," her friend said uncomfortably.

Andromeda stopped sharply on the path, and took a breath. "It's chilly," she said, even though the night was warm. "Let's go back inside."

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Lacrimosa was right. Their grandfather brought the news that several of the gentlemen were very taken with Narcissa.

"And you know Aydan Flint's offer, Druella," he said meaningfully, and Andromeda's head snapped up. Flint was a widower, probably only a few years younger than their grandfather, who was sixty. Narcissa had been quiet during this conversation, nibbling at her nails until Druella told her to stop, and sent them both out of the room, though they lingered in the corridor. Andromeda went as close to the door as she dared.

"Think about it, Druella," their grandfather said. She could see his back through the half open door. "It is a good proposal. In your current position, my dear-"

Andromeda relaxed slightly, and heard Narcissa exhale. They weren't talking about Narcissa. They were talking about Druella, and the possibility of a second marriage.

"I will not," Druella said icily. "Touch that man with a ten foot pole. Ever."

"Beggars cannot be choosers," he said, and his voice was dangerous. "Don't think we haven't heard about your own little indiscretion, Druella. I imagine every wizard in England knows by now."

"That's all that matters," she said flatly. "What I did, once."

"Stop this foolish nonsense, Druella. Your mother is right. Time to grow up, time to realise what's important. The Dark Lord does not forgive. You can never be weak."