Be All My Secrets Remembered

La Reine Noire

Story Summary:
'Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.' Spanning from spring of 1976 through the fateful Halloween night of 1981, the adventures and misadventures of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, and their contemporaries, particularly those belonging to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Toujours Dysfunctional. Warnings: contains dark thematic material, violence, innuendo, as many literary references as can be managed, and very mild slash.

Chapter 21 - Thicker Than Water

Chapter Summary:
Wherein the Potters hold a Christmas party, and Andromeda considers life, love, and four-year-old Metamorphmagi. Winter term begins, and the death of Alphard Black brings disparate members of his family into unexpected contact. Andromeda and Narcissa discuss past choices, or the lack thereof, and Narcissa acknowledges yet another family trait.
Posted:
06/09/2005
Hits:
2,023


Chapter Twenty-One: Thicker Than Water

December 1977 - February 1978

"Mum!" Lily called up the stairs. "Where on Earth's Petunia? James should be here any minute, and we'll be late if we wait any longer for her."

Mrs Evans was fastening one of her earrings as she made her way down to the front hall. "She's not coming, Lily. Her supervisor's holding a company party of sorts, and she thought she ought to make an appearance."

"Mum, if she didn't want to spend time with freaks, she could have told me that to my face," Lily remarked rather acidly. "She didn't have to make up a stupid excuse."

"Lily dear--"

"Is this something to do with James? She met him for barely five minutes!"

Her mother shook her head wearily. "Lily, I'm tired of this bickering. You and Petunia have been at one another's throats since you first came home, and I, for one, am looking forward to a nice, civilised evening."

Lily was on the verge of making some kind of retort when the doorbell rang. She barely had to open the door before James ducked inside, muttering a quick spell to get rid of the water pooling around his feet.

"Dare I assume it's raining?" Lily asked, unable to quite hide her smile.

"It's Windsor in December. Of course it's raining," he replied, rolling his eyes. Turning to Mrs Evans, he held out his hand. "Mrs Evans, nice to see you again."

"And you as well, James." Instead of shaking his hand as he had apparently expected, she leant in to kiss him on the cheek. "I don't suppose I need to ask how you got here, but do tell me, precisely where do your grandparents live?"

"A little town called Godric's Hollow. Lovely place, unless of course, it's raining, but we'll be inside anyway, so I can't imagine it matters that much. Are we ready to go?"

"Just about. I'll fetch Lily's father."

The moment she vanished up the stairs, Lily drew James into the parlour to steal a kiss. "I missed you," she murmured, laughing softly. "Silly of me."

"I have no complaints," he assured her. "Just your parents, then?"

Lily wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Petunia's got a company party, or something. She's been odd lately, even more so than usual. I have no idea what's going on."

"Not a problem." James grinned. "You look gorgeous, by the way."

"And you're out to make me blush," she retorted, drawing back from him just as her parents entered the front hall.

"James, good to see you again." Her father shook James's hand firmly. "So, how will we be getting to...where did you say this was?"

"My grandfather's house," James explained, pulling a large brass key out of the pocket of his mackintosh. "Everyone, just touch this key. You don't need to hold it; just touch it." He checked his watch. "Another ten seconds or so..."

"What exactly is going on?"

"It's a Portk--" James made it halfway through the word before they were all sucked quite literally out of the house.

***

Andromeda Tonks leant her head on her husband's shoulder, a sound not unlike a cat's purr rumbling deep in her throat. Ted slipped his arm around her waist.

"Wotcher, lady?" he grinned. "You look satisfied."

"I am," she replied, tilting her chin upward so she could kiss him on the cheek. "I'm also so full that I don't think I can move."

"Oh, that's for certain. I think Mrs Potter is conspiring with someone to keep us here forever. What do you think, Sirius?" he called, to where her cousin was all but collapsed against the wall.

"Death by food," he pronounced in an appropriately sepulchral fashion. "I approve."

"Food doesn't kill you," Nymphadora informed him imperiously. "Food keeps you alive."

"Oh yeah?" Sirius challenged, leaning forward to grasp the chubby little girl around the waist. "What about...tickling?"

Nymphadora's shrieks echoed through the cavernous room, intertwining with her parents' laughter. Dorcas Meadowes, who was settled on the couch, reached out in a futile attempt to distract him. By the time Sirius stopped, the little girl's hair had turned a rather alarming shade of purple, one that oddly complemented her reddened face.

Andromeda met Sirius' eyes over her daughter's head, and found herself smiling rather wistfully. Not too far from him, James Potter was settled against a pile of pillows, his girlfriend--Lily--drowsing against his shoulder. Nymphadora seemed to have noticed this as well, regarding the pair with a puzzled frown.

"Why are they asleep? I'm not asleep yet."

Sirius grinned, pulling her onto his lap. "Well, you see, if you eat a lot, it makes you tired."

"That's for certain," drawled the dark-haired young lady now leaning over the arm of the couch to toy with Nymphadora's still-purple hair. "Well, isn't this a pretty colour, Miss Dora? Do you like purple?"

Nymphadora nodded emphatically. "It's my favourite."

Sirius exchanged glances with her, something that made Andromeda's lips purse thoughtfully. Displaying what Andromeda was quite certain was some sort of second sight, Ted lowered his voice to ask, "What's this? You look suspiciously interested."

"What's suspicious?" she retorted. "I was merely curious as to how I ought to classify the relationship between my cousin and Dorcas Meadowes."

He shrugged. "Who needs classification?"

Andromeda did not answer, instead drew closer to him. "We've come a long way from Android Andromeda, then," she teased. "I seem to remember you took some strange perverse pleasure in classifying me in the most unflattering ways possible."

"Only because you walked around with your nose so far in the air, it was a miracle it didn't hit the ceiling," he told her, catching her hand as she reached up to hit him. "It's the truth. You were Andromeda of the House of Black, far too good for lowly Hufflepuffs."

That was when their hostess returned, having apparently taken charge of her daughter-in-law and Mrs Evans. Andromeda's eyes wandered the room lazily, taking in the austere, but oddly comfortable, décor. The Potters were new money, or so her mother and Aunt Lavinia had pronounced, noses wrinkled in distaste, for all that Geoffrey Potter had married one of Griselda Marchbanks' precious daughters. The youngest, they saw fit to add, as the two elder girls had married into the Malfoy and Rookwood families respectively. There were only so many proper wizarding families, after all.

Andromeda knew better, of course. She recalled a particular soirée at the Marchbanks house, from when she was no more than five or six years old, where she had accidentally happened upon a young couple in the greenhouse. Geoffrey Potter and Helena Marchbanks, whom she later recognised from a photograph in the Daily Prophet.

Another love match, thought Andromeda, perhaps only a few steps removed from her own. The pretty redhead was Muggleborn as well, or so it appeared. She wondered what his parents thought of that particular fact, but neither she nor Ted had noticed anything in particular over dinner.

Nymphadora had disentangled herself from Sirius and wandered toward the sleeping couple. After several seconds, she turned back to her mother, revealing long red hair, brilliantly green eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Andromeda laughed and held out her arms.

"You like her, sweetheart?" she enquired, as Nymphadora clambered into her lap.

Her daughter nodded. "She's a nice aunt. All the aunts here are nice. Mummy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Is the pretty lady my aunt too?"

Andromeda frowned. "Who's this, Nymphadora?"

"The picture in your room." Nymphadora frowned, and, as Andromeda watched, her hair lightened to a familiar shade of pale blonde, and grey eyes blinked up at her from a cameo-like face. "Of the pretty lady."

She managed a faint smile. "You're too curious, young lady." As she looked up, she caught Sirius' gaze, and the mirrored wistfulness on his face. "You're not supposed to look through Mummy's things."

"I was looking for scissors," she said, as if that explained everything. "Dorcas was showing me how Muggles make snowflakes."

"Ah, I see." Andromeda studied the girl in question. Sirius had shifted such that his head rested against her knee, and her fingers trailed idly through his hair. To Andromeda's admittedly indulgent gaze, her cousin looked rather like a contented cat, eyes closed, and the hint of a smile on his face. "And how do Muggles make snowflakes, Nymphadora?" she finally asked, turning her attention back to her daughter.

"They cut holes in paper."

"Very interesting," she murmured absently. Her thoughts had wandered yet again, this time to Narcissa. What was she doing, she wondered. No doubt attending some glittering party or other, making small talk with dignitaries and Ministry officials. The life Andromeda might have had, but for a few twists of fate, and a charming Muggleborn wizard from North London.

As if sensing his wife's train of thought, Ted squeezed her hand. Andromeda smiled faintly. From what little she had read, only one of her sisters appeared to have made any formal declarations supporting You-Know-Who's policies. Not that it surprised her; Lucius was ever one to keep a diplomatic silence until the right moment, and Narcissa had often proved similar in temperament.

Shifting Nymphadora onto Ted's lap, she made some vague excuse and stood up. It was only after she left the room that she noticed Helena Potter had followed her.

"Mrs Tonks?" She looked surprisingly uncertain. "There's...I have a rather awkward question, and I truly don't mean to be rude..."

"I can only assume this has something to do with your son's interest in a Muggle-born witch?" Andromeda pre-empted her, brows raised enquiringly. "Apparently I've become the unofficial poster girl for rebellious relationships, or something of that sort."

"I just...you know how things are now, Mrs Tonks. I don't want...Geoffrey's under enough stress as it is, for his support of Dumbledore in the Wizengamot." She twisted her hands slightly, biting her lip. "We're in enough danger already. James..."

"Your son is in love, Mrs Potter. I've barely seen the two of them together for four hours, and I can see it. Not to mention everything Sirius tells me." Andromeda reached forward and covered the older woman's hands with hers. "What use is it keeping him safe if you take away the one thing he wants to keep safe for?"

"And what about her? You say he's in love, but how does she feel about him? I won't have my son risk his life for a girl who may not care about him."

"Do you truly believe that?" Andromeda asked softly. "That Lily doesn't care?"

"I don't know, Mrs Tonks. I just don't know. She seems to, but..." She shook her head. "I can't help but feel he's...I don't know...making himself a target."

"From all accounts, she's one of the brightest students taking her N.E.W.T.s this year. Sirius speaks well of her, and all things considered, your son is of age. Surely he has the right to fall in love as he chooses?"

Mrs Potter smiled faintly. "As you did?"

"And you as well, if my recollection serves. You did marry a Potter, after all, and live to tell the tale. I can't imagine James will do any less." Andromeda returned the smile with a brilliant one of her own. "Do you like her?"

"Lily Evans?" She glanced back over her shoulder at the room, where her son had apparently been awakened through some machination of Sirius', and had started throwing pillows at him. Lily, startled awake as well, was giggling helplessly. "She's a lovely girl. She reminds me a little of your sister, to speak the truth. The changeling, my sisters used to call her."

At that, Andromeda laughed, albeit wistfully. "She just looks like our mother, when the rest of us took after our father. How does Lily remind you of her?"

"Not very much, mind you. Just, every now and then, when she looks at James. Her smile."

"Then lay your fears to rest, Mrs Potter," was Andromeda's reply. "My sister only ever smiled that way at Lucius Malfoy."

Mrs Potter turned, her smile rather tremulous as she watched her son. "And she had her happy ending, or so the papers seem insistent upon telling us. The fairy-tale Malfoys. We all read about them."

"Your son seems the sort of young man who will build himself a happy ending, should one not come to him by chance." Andromeda followed Mrs Potter's gaze, as James caught Lily around the waist spinning her into an embrace. "And not all happy endings need be fairy-tales."

***

It was Gryffindor's second match of the year, and James had been on edge for the entire week. This was only in part due to Quidditch. His first Valentine's Day as Lily's boyfriend had been, in a word, disastrous. First of all, it had taken him a total of five days to create a suitably romantic gift, requiring at least three false starts and possibly as many as eight botched attempts. The final attempt ended in Lily being sent to the Hospital Wing for singed-off eyebrows, after James's card had accidentally burst into flames instead of singing, the way it was meant to.

Out of complete and utter embarrassment, James had spent the next few days hiding out on the Quidditch pitch, driving the Gryffindor team mad with his mood swings, short temper, and his disappearance every half-hour or so to send yet another bouquet of flowers to Lily in the Hospital Wing. One way or the other, however, the match had arrived, and they were as ready as they would ever be.

Back in November, Hufflepuff had trounced Ravenclaw, thanks almost entirely to Benjy Fenwick and his new Cleansweep Eight. He had raced off after the Snitch before the Ravenclaw Seeker could even turn around. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any sign of the accursed thing today. James cast yet another Impervius charm on his glasses, as the two previous ones were quickly wearing off under the rain.

"You need to keep an eye on Fenwick. He's damned fast this year, and we all know it," James reiterated for what may well have been the fifth time. He wasn't keeping track. "We're leading, but if he catches the Snitch, we're finished. Which means," he turned to focus on the small blonde girl clutching her Cleansweep Seven close against her chest, "we're counting on you, Hennessey."

She nodded wordlessly.

"Right. Everyone else, keep the rest of the team distracted. We're entirely capable, and we're bloody well going to win this."

The team scattered, and James took the several moments' lull to glance toward the Gryffindor stands. Soaked and bedraggled, Sirius offered a thumbs-up, and beside him, Lily--with rather miraculously regrown eyebrows, courtesy of Madame Pomfrey--just smiled. From some combination of adoration and relief, James had to fight to keep from falling off his broom, but forced his eyes away just in time to hear the sharp whistle from below.

Over the next ten minutes or so, the rain just seemed to get worse. James squinted upward, trying to see Hennessey against the downpour, but to no avail.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Fenwick hovering just beyond the Ravenclaw stands. James shot forward, just in time to cut Fenwick off from whatever he was attempting to see. Swearing viciously, Fenwick dodged and made it past James, just in time to miss the Snitch by several feet. In one smooth motion, Hennessey swept around him and grabbed the tiny golden ball in her left hand, brandishing it above her head triumphantly.

The Gryffindors trooped back into the castle, still cheering hoarsely. When they reached the Common Room, however, McGonagall was standing near the doorway, a letter in her hand.

"This just arrived for you, Mr Black," she told him.

James barely registered the elaborate seal on the front of the letter, or the almost calligraphic handwriting. What he did notice was that his friend had gone completely rigid. "What's the matter? You don't look so good, mate."

"Yeah," Remus' voice echoed, as he pushed to the front of the crowd. Peter, standing proudly by the hearth with his arm around Laura, was blissfully oblivious to anything or anyone that wasn't his girlfriend. "What's this, Padfoot?"

Sirius did not answer at first. Instead, he opened the letter and scanned the few lines before saying in a strangely toneless voice. "From Narcissa. The first words I've had from her since I left, and it's to tell me my uncle's dead."

***

Alone amidst the innumerable plaques, monuments, and effigies of the Black family mausoleum, Narcissa Malfoy knelt in silence. Three black marble plaques sat side-by-side before her. Arcturus, Antares, and Alphard Black. The last, newly carved just a week before, when word of her Uncle Alphard's death had arrived from Bermuda.

The funeral was small, sparsely attended by a few former colleagues from Gringotts, and what few members of their family remained. They had all paid the requisite respects to Aunt Lavinia, as the matriarch of the family, but the fond remembrances they saved for Narcissa, who accepted them with a wistful smile. He spoke of you with great love, Mrs Malfoy. You and your sisters, and your cousins. Beside her, Regulus dredged up smiles as well, his even weaker, as if the very effort exhausted him.

Sirius and Andromeda ought to have been there, of course, but there was no chance of that. Not with Aunt Lavinia making the arrangements. Narcissa had written discreetly to both of them to tell them of Alphard's death. Neither had replied. And as for Bellatrix and Rodolphus, they were on holiday for their wedding anniversary and therefore unreachable.

Aunt Lavinia had swept back to London immediately after the funeral, taking Regulus with her with barely enough time to offer Narcissa a farewell. Lucius, acknowledging his wife's desire to be left alone, Apparated back to Wiltshire, and Mother returned to the house in tears. She seemed to do nothing but cry these days. Narcissa remained, thankful for the solitude.

"All this fuss, Uncle Alphard," she murmured with a faint smile. "I'm sure you'd have rather forgone the funeral altogether. But you of all people know better than to argue with Aunt Lavinia. We all do, I suppose."

Her words were too soft to echo, even in the marble chamber. So, when the unmistakeable sound of two people Apparating reached her ears, there was nothing to distract her. She rose to her feet, unhurried, intending to tell off whoever it was for disturbing her, until they began to speak.

"...to think I'd just had an owl from him three weeks ago. He'd spoken to his old supervisor at Gringotts to see about a position for me---'Cissa!" Sirius stopped short in the doorway, his face radiating not-altogether-unpleasant surprise. "I was hoping you'd still be here."

Narcissa lowered her eyes, unable to quite hide her smile. "Sirius. You did get my letter, then."

"Mother certainly wouldn't have bothered to tell me, so thank you." The words were heartfelt, as was his embrace. Narcissa rested her head against his shoulder for a second or two--when on earth had he grown taller than her? Surely not just in the past year?--before her eyes widened at the other figure in the doorway.

"Andromeda!"

Her elder sister smiled back, the expression so painfully familiar that Narcissa tightened her hold on Sirius to keep herself steady, as Andromeda answered, "In the flesh. I only wish it could have been a happier occasion."

"You just missed Aunt Lavinia and Regulus."

"Thank Merlin for that," Sirius remarked, his tone so caustic that Narcissa glanced curiously up at him. "We timed ourselves perfectly then."

Narcissa found she was smiling, much to her surprise. "You really don't change, do you?"

"I'd disappoint Mother terribly if I did change," he quipped. "We Blacks are meant to be constant, aren't we?"

"Supposedly," she replied ruefully. "I'm glad to see you."

"And I you. How is marriage to everybody's favourite ice sculpture?"

"Sirius!" She swatted him across the shoulder. "He couldn't be further from an ice sculpture, I'll have you know. But maybe you're just too young and innocent to understand."

"You mean Andromeda hasn't enlightened you as to my reputation yet?" he challenged wickedly.

"It isn't supposed to be fun, you shameless girl!" Andromeda intoned, sounding uncannily like Aunt Lavinia. "It's for the family. We must continue into perpetuity, the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black..."

"...Toujours pur," the other two finished in unison. Narcissa felt oddly breathless, looking at her sister and her cousin, as though they might vanish into thin air, the stuff of her own imagination.

Sirius' smile faltered slightly as his gaze found the three plaques behind Narcissa. "All three of them gone. It doesn't seem right somehow."

"Of course it doesn't," Andromeda agreed softly, sinking them all into silence for a few moments.

"So, Sirius, what is this I hear about you and Léon Raimbaut's daughter?" enquired Narcissa, her words deceptively nonchalant.

He offered her a perfectly innocent smile. "Dare I ask what you've heard?"

"Why, that you broke her heart, you Casanova," she retorted. "Apparently she's drowning her sorrows in work and Vittorio Zabini."

"Who?"

"Italian Ambassador. Lucius knows him," Narcissa explained, shrugging. "Is it true?"

"You need to recheck your sources," he replied. "There was never anything between me and Eliane. Not beyond...well...there was that evening where we both drank a little too much..."

"I don't want to know!" Andromeda interjected. "As far as I'm concerned, you're still an ickle third-year who shouldn't even be thinking about that sort of thing."

"Much as I hate to shatter your illusions, coz, I've not been an ickle third-year in a very long time," Sirius told her in an exaggerated stage whisper. "In fact, I'm not even underage anymore."

"Don't remind me. You make me feel old."

"Andromeda the Ancient?" he teased.

"Repeat that to anyone, and you'll have permanent bat ears," Narcissa warned him. "You thought Bella was good with that curse? When Andromeda cast it, Mother and Father had to take Bella to St Mungo's to get it reversed."

"Should have left her that way," Sirius retorted with a shrug. "It might have done her some good to have very large ears. I can't imagine Lestrange would have looked at her twice, and she'd have turned into a batty, lonely old woman, just like Mother."

The mention of Bellatrix had dampened the mood somewhat, and Sirius turned back to the plaques, his face revealing nothing. Narcissa hesitated a second or two before asking, "What is it you plan to do, Sirius? You're leaving Hogwarts this year, aren't you?"

"Well, I was hoping to take over Uncle Alphard's old job. He's putti--he put--in a word with his supervisor at Gringotts, and I've got an interview during Easter hols." He winced at his own slip of the tongue. "Do you know how he died?"

Narcissa nodded grimly. "You know Uncle Alphard. For all that he was retired, he still insisted on breaking the occasional curse. There was a house, no more than a hut, really, not too far from where he lived, and everyone believed it cursed, or haunted, or something of the sort. So he went to take a look."

"Was it?" Andromeda asked, frowning. "Haunted, I mean."

"No," her sister answered. "A Muggle had somehow got in. He was hiding from law enforcement, and had been for a good few weeks. Nobody had even guessed he was there. Uncle Alphard didn't even see the knife."

Sirius turned away, gripping one of the grilles for support.

"Thankfully, there were a few other people about. They caught the man, Obliviated him, and the Colonial Council was able to hand him over to Muggle authorities. Too late for our uncle, of course, but they gave him a medal." Bitterness made her voice crack ever so slightly. "For services rendered. I must admit there are times when I think..." She broke off, focusing on her father's name, carved into the plaque in front of her. "Shall I leave you here?"

"You're not going back...I mean, will you wait?" Andromeda asked.

Narcissa smiled faintly. "I can, though not outside if it's alright with you. Rather cold this time of year, and all. There's a teashop in the village. You know the one I mean."

"Of course," her sister nodded. "We'll meet you there, then."

"Actually," Sirius interjected, "I can't stay, I'm afraid, much as I'd like to. Dumbledore gave me special permission to come out, but only on the condition that I go back tonight. And," he added, smiling, "before you say it, yes, I'm the rule-breaker, but I think I'm on sufferance at the moment and I'd rather not put myself in any more trouble than I've already done."

"Trouble?" Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "What's this?"

"Just a little House antagonism carried a bit too far. Don't worry."

Despite very much wishing to argue the latter point, Narcissa nodded. "If you insist." She stepped forward and hugged him close. "It was good to see you, Sirius. Truly."

"You too, 'Cissa," he replied, his voice muffled in her hair. "I'd tell you to give my regards to Malfoy, except I don't think he'd appreciate them."

"Not altogether," she agreed, smiling wryly. "You take care."

He nodded, and turned back to the plaques.

Narcissa emerged from the mausoleum, drawing her cloak tighter around her shoulders and the hood over her head. The wind whipped around her, whistling between gravestones and along the side of St Materiana's Church. No better place to hide a family mausoleum, she supposed, than right beside a Muggle church, protected by centuries-old wards.

The sun had almost set, casting an eerie twilit glow over church, cliffs, and the village, as Narcissa walked along the deceptively straight path that plunged down into a ravine before re-emerging into the main street of the village. She entered the teashop--passing discreetly through a wall at the corner of a Muggle inn--and, some ten minutes after she settled down in a booth, Andromeda entered.

They made relatively innocuous small talk for a few minutes, while waiting for the woman to bring Andromeda her tea, but when Andromeda cast a privacy charm over the booth, Narcissa leant back and sighed, waiting for the interrogation.

"Why did you never answer my letters, 'Cissa?" Andromeda finally asked, setting down her cup and meeting her sister's eyes over the table. "The note you sent about Uncle Alphard was the only time you wrote to me since I left."

Narcissa took a delicate sip of tea, wincing as the too-hot liquid bit into her tongue. "What was I to say, Andromeda?"

"I don't know..." She made a truncated gesture with her hand, setting the single small diamond on her fourth finger to glitter in the lamplight. "I missed you."

"You shouldn't have left, then." It was petulance. Childish, even, but Narcissa didn't care.

"Oh, 'Cissa." Andromeda reached across the table and grasped her hand before she could pull it away. "If you only knew..."

"Well, I don't," she snapped. "All I know is that you turned your back on your family, on those who loved you, to marry some damned Mudblood."

There was a flash of anger in Andromeda's eyes. Not as dark as Bellatrix, who provoked an almost vertiginous sensation when met with her gaze, but arresting nonetheless. "I'd thank you not to insult my husband, Narcissa."

She shrugged. "You're the one who brought up the subject."

"I don't want to fight, 'Cissa. I've done enough with Aunt Lavinia and Bellatrix."

"Bella?" That caught her by surprise. "I didn't know she still spoke to you."

Andromeda laughed shortly. "Only to send me threats every so often. Me and Ted and our daughter. We've had to move twice, to keep away from her. I've even stopped going to Diagon Alley as often, and Merlin knows I won't take Nymphadora there anymore."

"I didn't know, Andromeda," she finally said, after a few seconds of shocked silence. "I mean, I knew she was angry with you, but so were we all. Even Sirius. You left him as much as you left everyone else."

"I had to, 'Cissa. You can't possibly understand. You weren't forced to choose between your family and your love." She sighed. "But that isn't the point. 'Cissa, you still have a choice. I know what Bella's doing, what your husband..."

"I'll refrain from speaking of your husband if you refrain from speaking of mine," interjected Narcissa firmly. "I don't see how Lucius is any concern of yours."

"'Cissa, I'm not an idiot. I've known Lucius all my life, longer even than you have."

"Of course. And if Mother had had her way, you would have been Mrs Lucius Malfoy, not me." Narcissa's fingers tightened imperceptibly on the handle of the teacup. "What is it you want, Andromeda?"

Her sister just gazed back, the faint smile bespeaking more sadness and regret than could be put into words. "Just be careful, sister. Keep out of this mess."

"Who do you think I am? Bella?"

"I know you better than that, which is why I'm telling you this now. I want to help you, 'Cissa. I know you couldn't care less about politics; that you've always been able to say precisely what people wanted you to say, regardless of your own feelings." She paused, took a breath. "You're still my sister, and I still love you."

Narcissa closed her eyes for a second, willing herself to keep her composure. "You should have thought of that before you left, Andromeda."

"'Cissa, you have no idea..."

"Then tell me!" she snapped. "Stop beating round the bush, and bloody tell me!"

"Nymphadora was born five months after Ted and I married. You do the maths." Andromeda grasped her hand tighter. "Do you honestly think I could have stayed another instant in that house if Aunt Lavinia found out I was pregnant?"

"You hid it well enough from Mother," was Narcissa's reply. "Why didn't you tell me then?"

"Because I didn't want you implicated, sweet. You know that. Everyone knew how close we were, especially after that damned dinner party where Lucius fought with his father, and you refused to speak to Bella. Who do you think made your excuses? Told everyone you were ill? If I could have told you, 'Cissa, I would have." Her eyes met Narcissa's, dark and anxious. "I didn't want you to have to lie to Aunt Lavinia."

"I'm far better at lying than either you or Bella ever were," retorted Narcissa wearily. "You turned your back on us, on all of us. And then Sirius..."

"What of Sirius?"

"Aunt Lavinia recalled Regulus from Durmstrang. I told her to, after I saw him over the summer. He looked awful, Andromeda. Barely spoke three sentences together." Narcissa sighed. "He and Sirius used to get on, before Hogwarts, before that bloody hat put Sirius in the wrong house--"

"What makes you think it was the wrong house?" Andromeda asked softly. "Did it never occur to you that Sirius belongs in Gryffindor? He's happy there, 'Cissa. He has friends..."

"Friends that saw him disowned by his own mother!"

"With all due respect, 'Cissa, it was Regulus who did that," refuted Andromeda. "And yes, Sirius told me about Regulus over Christmas. Are things truly that bad?"

Narcissa nodded. "I know you never liked him, Andromeda, but he's a good boy. Can you imagine what it was like, growing up in Sirius' shadow? I can; after all, I had Bella to contend with. But Regulus never learnt how to lie. He was the baby. He never needed to." She lowered her eyes for a moment, before looking at Andromeda again. "Could you speak to Sirius? I don't know if he would listen to me these days...especially if he's got his own ideas about my allegiance."

"Should he?"

"He's seventeen years old. He's got the right to have his own ideas, does he not?" Narcissa challenged, deflecting the question coolly. "He'll leave Hogwarts in a few months, to whatever it is he's decided to do. I have no illusions as to which side he'll take if a war's brewing."

Andromeda barely hesitated before asking, "And whose side are you on, sister?"

"Why, my own side, of course." Brittle laughter accompanied the words. "I'm still a Black by birth, Andromeda. We're always out for ourselves. And for those we love. Lest you forget, I too married for love, however convenient the alliance."

"How could I possibly forget?" Andromeda's smile was curiously wistful. "He only came to me for help, after all, at the beginning."

"It was you, then? I was sure, but he refused to say. I couldn't imagine anyone else who could have told him about Giselle," Narcissa admitted, smiling despite herself. "Only you and Uncle Alphard knew, and he was always off breaking curses and such."

"I'll have you know I interrogated him quite viciously about his intentions beforehand," was Andromeda's reply, shot through with laughter. "It caught him entirely off-guard."

"Did it? He never mentioned that."

"No doubt because it painted him as something other than the perfectly self-assured, confident, man-about-town that he believed himself to be," her sister retorted airily. "I had to inform him in no uncertain terms that you weren't impressed. I don't know if he believed me, though."

"He believed you," Narcissa mused.

"'Cissa, I don't know the full story, and I don't know if you're willing to tell me..."

"I'd rather let it lie."

"...he loves you. Even I could see it then. I was ready to kill Bella for the way she was acting that night, and it was plainly obvious he was miserable." She seemed on the verge of saying more, but forestalled. "'Cissa, keep him out of this. He's ambitious, he always has been. And that accursed father of his wasn't much help."

"You have no idea," murmured Narcissa. "I didn't ask it of him, but he broke with Abraxas on my account. Because of what happened."

"I suspected as much. Especially given Abraxas Malfoy's rather convenient death. Dragon pox, indeed." Narcissa glanced up, startled, and Andromeda continued, "I can count, 'Cissa. And I can put two and two together, as well as anyone else. Is that why he joined Voldemort in the first place? For revenge?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied coolly.

"'Cissa, please. We're going into hiding--the three of us are--at least until things seem safer. I will not place my daughter's life in danger. My name alone is a beacon for anyone who wants to ingratiate themselves with the Death Eaters." Andromeda took a deep breath. "I'm telling you this much because, regardless of anything else, I still trust you."

"How do you know I won't turn you in to Bella?" demanded Narcissa. "You can't be certain of that."

"I know you, 'Cissa. You're too clever for that. If you were going to turn me in, you'd turn me in to Voldemort himself. No more, no less." After a second or two, she added, "And you've got no liking for him; that much is obvious."

"Is it?"

"He's taken your husband. He can offer Lucius the one thing you can't, the one thing that could possibly distract him from you." Andromeda leaned closer. "I'm sure he's offered Lucius the sun, the moon, and everything in between, including the Ministry on a silver platter."

"He can offer all he wants. I still don't believe him capable of delivering," Narcissa remarked acidly. "You worry about your family, Andromeda. I'll worry about mine."

***

She had not intended to stay nearly as long as she did, and by the time she Apparated back to Wiltshire, it was well past ten in the evening. Narcissa tossed her gloves onto the foyer table, and her cloak to the waiting house-elf, barely noting the creature's chatter until she mentioned that Master had returned.

Brow furrowed in puzzlement, Narcissa made her way up the stairs. It was unlike Lucius to be in bed this early, and she had resigned herself to barely seeing him at all since he had taken the Dark Mark. If it wasn't Ministry business during the day, it was the Dark Lord's business during the night, and nothing she said or did would gainsay Lucius. No wonder Andromeda had found it easy to draw her into helpless nostalgia. Things had been better before.

He was asleep. In spite of the cold, he had left the window open, gauze curtains fluttering in the breeze and moonlight slanting through to drape across the bed. Narcissa leant against the bedpost, letting her eyes rove as they wished, drinking him in. A study in moonshade, was her husband, painted in silver and white, hair pale and gleaming as cornsilk spread across blue sheets. In his usual manner, he had shoved his left arm beneath the pillow, hiding that accursed serpentine blot, the single blemish that marked his allegiance.

So caught up was she in reflection that she did not notice his eyes had opened, were studying her in return. "Drink of me with your eyes, darling?"

Narcissa started, catching her breath. "You're awake."

"Somewhat. I wondered when you'd come back." Shifting lazily, he made room for her to join him. When she did not, he tilted his head to one side, frowning. "Something the matter?"

"No," she whispered. "Just looking."

"You know, you're welcome to touch as well," he teased. "Narcissa, what's wrong?"

You weren't forced to choose between your family and your love. Andromeda's words from earlier that day rang loud and clear. Oh Andromeda, my choice is no easier. Can't you see that?

"I just...nothing."

"You asked me not to keep secrets from you. Are you not going to grant me the same?" her husband asked softly. "What is it?"

Fighting the absurd desire to cry, she sat on the edge of the bed. She heard she rustle of sheets as he moved, felt her breath catch at the brush of his lips at her throat. Narcissa turned and kissed him fiercely, skimming her fingers along his spine.

"Well, that was a brilliant distraction, love, but you still haven't told me what's troubling you," he murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"Later," whispered Narcissa, as she pushed him back onto the pillows.

You forget, sister, when we Blacks love, we love with every breath. I made my choice years ago. I cannot unmake it now. Even for you.

NB: This chapter doesn't have much going on, I know. Lots of rumination on various things, and some backstory on Andromeda and Narcissa, and the elder generation of Potters as well. I was mildly blocked, and hopefully should get things moving once again over the next few chapters. Knock on wood. ;)

We haven't been told precisely what happened to Andromeda, Ted, and Dora during the First War, so my theory that they went into hiding is precisely that: speculation. But it struck me as logical, given Andromeda's family connections.

The Colonial Council is the States' equivalent of the Ministry of Magic, which I've borrowed from The Annoying One's 'Year V'. And special thanks to Adelynne my Idea Woman, and a.k.a. Strobe, for helping me puzzle out endings to scenes.


Author notes: This chapter doesnt have much going on, I know. Lots of rumination on various things, and some backstory on Andromeda and Narcissa, and the elder generation of Potters as well. I was mildly blocked, and hopefully should get things moving once again over the next few chapters. Knock on wood. ;)

We havent been told precisely what happened to Andromeda, Ted, and Dora during the First War, so my theory that they went into hiding is precisely that: speculation. But it struck me as logical, given Andromedas family connections.

The Colonial Council is the States equivalent of the Ministry of Magic, which Ive borrowed from The Annoying One's Year V. And special thanks to Adelynne my Idea Woman (also HTML goddess!), Krysa, and a.k.a. Strobe, for helping me puzzle out endings to scenes.