Family Album: Heritage

Heritage

It is not easy being the prettiest of three little girls and growing into the plainest woman. Not that Andromeda Black was not beautiful for she was and she knew it, but she was not the most beautiful, not the most anything any more. When Black sisters were young, Andromeda was the one whom strangers praised. Narcissa was too unusual and too fragile. She was sweet, but unimpressive. Bellatrix was too dramatic for a child, a pale little thing with heavy hair that swept over a determined face with thin lips and a nose that bore a hint of the patrician. Bellatrix's fringe was always a little too long, her velvet robe a little too big. By contrast, young Andromeda, black-haired, straight-browed, was perfect.

Nymphadora was not quite perfect. She had inherited Andromeda's looks, more or less. Like Ted, she was not tall, and the strong bones of the Blacks had fined down to a pretty little heart shaped-face. But her thick black hair was always in her dark eyes, when of course she was not looking different. But the metamorphmagus talents were certainly not from her family, Andromeda was sure of that. The staff at St Mungo's said the phenomenon was more common among half-bloods, particularly those with some family history of low-grade magic. Family legend had it that Ted's great-grandmother could tell fortunes, and Andromeda recalled his mother's beautiful curls.

'I can't think where they came from,' the older woman said. 'No-one in the family has ever had curls. They came in when I was ten. It was marvellous - they were so fashionable.' Andromeda did not encourage her daughter to use her abilities in public. You'll never be an Auror, Andromeda said, if everybody knows.

At present, however, Nymphadora was looking far from remarkable. She half sat, half lay on the chairs in the Healer's waiting room, her head in her mother's lap, her swollen eyes half-closed. With barely concealed impatience, Andromeda took another look at the clock above the front desk where the hand was still pointing to "Sorry, not yet." The Blacks had raised their daughters to consider punctuality the politeness of princes, and Annis had arrived a full ten minutes early as was proper. The Healer was running a good fifteen minutes late, and with Nymphadora so miserable, Andromeda couldn't even read a book. The six-months old copies of Witch Weekly and The Quibbler hardly drew her attention. She would have given anything to be back in the dungeons at work. She was not, however, desperate enough to be pleased with the company when she saw who had walked through the door.

It was with some pride that Andromeda Black considered that although she had worked in the same building as Alice Longbottom for years, she had always managed to avoid her in the canteen. In fact they did not work in the same building, but the Experimental Charms dungeons were a restricted area, and thus the employees Flooed to the Ministry for any amenity more significant than some lukewarm, funny-tasting pumpkin juice, or the haunted lavatories in the shack upstairs. It amused Andromeda, insofar as such things must, to think that Alice was probably rather proud of avoiding her, too. She was certainly not prepared for this.

'Good Lord!' The pretty round face flushed scarlet. 'Andromeda.'

'Why, Alice Longbottom, good afternoon.' Andromeda smiled slightly. It was easy to have the advantage with a sick child on one's lap and the obligation on the other to negotiate the seating arrangements. Alice turned to the desk, where the young receptionist wittered on about - oh dear, pre-natal check-ups. Andromeda bit the inside of her bottom lip out of its threatened smirk and waved at the seat opposite her. 'Congratulations, Alice, and do sit down. You mustn't stand around in your condition.'

'Frank is delighted, of course,' said Alice Longbottom as she settled contentedly back into the armchair with as much grace as she could muster. 'But he's always been fond of children. He's ever so good with his nephews.' She glanced at Nymphadora lying opposite with her head in her mother's lap. 'Of course, we'd be just as happy with a girl.'

'Of course,' Andromeda responded politely. She rested one warm hand in the hollow of Nymphadora's aching jaw and smoothed the woolly hat over her daughter's ears. Apparently it took very little to restore Alice's sang-froid.

'My mother-in-law's over the moon. She's so excited about being a grandmother you could hardly believe she's the same woman. Her husband's death hit her hard. We'll name the baby after him, naturally.'

'Naturally,' Andromeda smiled. 'I've always thought Nevilletta such a pretty name.' She was rewarded with another blush from the pregnant woman opposite her. Four months? Five months? It was hard to tell, and Alice Longbottom was not exactly svelte at the best of times. Andromeda gave her head a little shake. She was being silly. Alice Longbottom had always been like that, kind, gentle, but a little conservative, a little complacent, a little smug, a little too proud of her wonderful pure-blood family with its wonderful traditions and her wonderful in-laws, far too concerned with reputation and society to risk talking to Andromeda Black. Andromeda who had married a Mudblood, who was sister-in-law to Lucius Malfoy, a man who practically walked around in a sandwich board reading You Don't Know - And You Don't Need to. Andromeda had always found Alice irritating, even before her marriage to Ted had seen her unceremoniously dropped from the younger Longbottoms' Christmas card list. Not that she had ever sent them a card herself even before that. They were hardly her society. No, she wasn't being silly. She loathed smug, kind, complacent Alice Longbottom, who honestly thought that being an Auror made one a shining creature of goodness and light, and that the use of Unforgiveable curses at a level notorious within the Ministry even for Crouch's Department made no difference to this. She shifted her hand to rest against Nymphadora's shoulder, stroking the black plait that trailed over her neck. Alice smiled.

'And how is the Department of Experimental Charms these days? Still working on those goats?' Oh, the hilarious joke, circulating in the Ministry since Salazar knew when. Although in fact Andromeda did work on goats.

'Oh yes. We've reached a fascinating stage. We're really getting somewhere with the effects of Cruciatus on the brain. Of course, we only use the goats for the final stages of experiments. They're surprisingly expensive to house, and you can use so many more rats for the same funding. Much more efficient in the early stages.' Andromeda was pleased to see that Alice had gone a little green. They were used to being mocked at Experimental Charms; too few people were interested enough to care what they did there. No, the flash-bang Aurors were the popular heroes, not the scholars who worked on spells to keep them alive. No doubt Alice thought her tactless mentioning the Cruciatus Curse, the Unforgiveable that Alice wielded in what she no doubt called the course of duty, called too late to burned-out houses where the Dark Mark rose in the sky, striking out at anyone near, anyone fool enough to run. Andromeda might hate Lord Voldemort, but she knew what the Ministry could be, too, and she certainly knew Barty Crouch. He had been her father's friend.

On the other hand, Alice was pregnant. Andromeda should make allowances.

'But I hope you're keeping well. It's a terribly tiring time if one's not in good health.'

'Thank you. I'm very well. Frank and I are both very fortunate that way. Family heritage, no doubt.'

'No doubt.' Andromeda stroked her daughter's thin shoulder. 'No doubt.' She looked up at the clock, another five minutes to bear. Of course, there was one subject she hadn't tried, and it almost counted as polite. 'Yes. It's a shame you won't have seen my sister's little boy - he's terribly sweet. They've called him Draco. Draco Malfoy, such a good name for the family. Narcissa seems to rock the cradle with one and work at Ancient Runes with the other. And Lucius simply dotes on him.' Oh no, Alice Longbottom would never have been invited to the Malfoys. Andromeda's Slytherin soul heard the sound of horns in the air. She scented blood.

'It's nice for you that the Ministry's maternity leave provision is so good.' Alice's cheery smile had almost evaporated. For all their good name, the Longbottoms had never had much money, and it was a sore point. An antique ring was one thing. Antique furniture was to be envied, but things that were simply old, kept out of false gentility, a mother-in-law in a shabby fur stole; these were to be scorned. 'Of course, Nymphadora was born before I worked there, so I could never take advantage, but it is quite a bonus, isn't it?'

'Oh yes.' The voice had lost all complacency now.

'It's a full two years I think these days? And have you thought about a nursery afterwards, or will Mrs Longbottom help out?' No need to mention that she and Ted had a French nanny for Nymphadora - Alice knew it.

'Well, my mother-in-law has offered, and - Frank! Darling.' Frank Longbottom entered with a blast of cold air, his solid frame swathed in thick black woollen robes, snowflakes from the unseasonable April weather melting on his sleeves. He laid a proprietorial hand on his wife's shoulder and nodded curtly at Andromeda.

'Madam Black.'

'Longbottom. Congratulations. Alice has told me your news.' Frank smiled fondly at his wife.

'Oh yes, we're thrilled. There's nothing like new blood in the family,' he said, and his narrowed eyes flickered, just for a moment, to Nymphadora. Andromeda clenched her hand inside her robe, but only answered,

'So you've heard my sister Bellatrix is to marry, then?' Well, they wouldn't have heard perhaps, but they would certainly have read the notice in the Daily Prophet. Mrs Longbottom liked to keep up with things. There was a brief and uncomfortable silence, broken by a buzz from the clock. The receptionist called out her name, and Andromeda gently set Nymphadora on her feet.

'Alice, Frank.' Andromeda nodded goodbye and was gone, pausing only to turn at the surgery door and wish like any Muggle, I hope the brat's a Squib.