Family Album: The Moon and Peppermint

Fourteen year old Narcissa Black lay flat on her back in the quarantine ward of the hospital wing, counting the stones in the opposite wall. It was more interesting than the alternative, which was reading the only book Madam Pomfrey deemed safe, one that would not only not over-excite her, but also had educational value. Unfortunately, Narcissa had already read Hogwarts: A History, and she hadn't found it remotely engaging the first time round. She could just about see how to grown-ups, missing what they fondly and erroneously remembered as a carefree childhood, the book was indeed a treasure-trove, a reminder of the rich history, architecture and occasional wildlife of the castle they had supposedly called home, but to her it was dull, dull, dull, and the stones in the opposite wall at least let her practise Arithmancy. She had missed several lessons already and needed to practise if she were not to fall behind.

There was nothing worse than being confined to the hospital wing and not feeling ill. Nothing, that was, except being confined to the hospital wing and, while not feeling ill, feeling very, very nervous, and, because Narcissa was generally honest with herself at least, even that was not as bad as being confined to the hospital wing and feeling as ill as the small boy poking his head round the doorway looked.

'Err, hello?' he said, as if he didn't know whether he wanted someone to be there or not.

'Hello.' Narcissa shifted her head the half-inch necessary to see him properly.

'Is Madam Pomfrey here?' The boy moved forward into the room a little. He was limping, and his pyjama jacket was distorted by the bandages visible underneath around his chest.

'I don't know where she is,' Narcissa answered quietly. 'I think she went down to the potions classroom. Do you need her?'

'No...I just wanted...' He looked anxiously across her towards the window.

'What?'

'I just wanted to ask her something.'

'Oh.' Narcissa didn't enquire whether the boy wanted to ask her instead. It hardly seemed likely. He edged forward again past the other bed.

'Don't come any closer!' It came out a little louder than she intended and she felt the catch in her throat. Mental suppression, Narcissa repeated to herself, mental not physical, mental. Madam Pomfrey had been very firm in that regard, as indeed had the various Healers Narcissa had seen for the same condition earlier in her childhood. Physical suppression was a bad idea, as she scarcely needed reminding. She ran her tongue around the edge of her gums, feeling the sting, and looked back over towards the boy. He had stopped by the other bed, six feet away from her own, apparently unsure whether to advance or too retreat. Still speaking softly, Narcissa tried to sound a bit more welcoming. She had been very bored, after all, and the boy definitely looked unwell. 'Maybe you ought to lie down,' she said. 'Just don't come any closer.'

'OK.' He climbed up, wincing a bit, and got up onto the bed and under the blankets. He had light brown hair, and a pale, rather tired looking face. Narcissa felt her throat constrict again, and turned her face back to the ceiling. She heard the boy clear his throat quietly, hesitating as to whether or not he should talk to her. Perhaps she should be more inviting, and she wondered what to say. She was old enough to know that the obvious question was not the best. 'What are you in for?' he asked. Apparently he was not.

'I ate a peppermint.'

'You ate a peppermint?' It was just what Madam Pomfrey had said.

'Yes.' Narcissa had answered thus then as well. The rest of the class had been herded out of the smoking Slytherin common room into the Great Hall, and Narcissa stood alone with the matron and Professor Prewitt, one hand clapped over her mouth, as she held the other under a stream of icy water conjured by the angry witch.

'Really, Narcissa, what were you thinking?'

'Well I didn't think it was a peppermint, did I?'

'It was blue!'

'It looked like spearmint. Peppermints are green.'

'Narcissa, you know you are not to eat any blue or green Bott's beans until they have been tested by someone else or you are certain that they are apple flavour.'

'Yeah, well the apple ones actually taste like snot.'

'Then stick to red, child!' What was particularly galling was that Narcissa had been sensible. Narcissa was always sensible, sometimes overly so as her sisters had both complained. She and Andromeda had bought the beans on an icy trip to Hogsmeade, and had resolutely not eaten a single one on their way back to Hogwarts. Then sitting in front of the blazing green flames that all three Black sisters privately decried as being in poor taste, they poured the beans onto a plate between them ready for the game. It was simple enough, eat or dare, and no sniffing; halving the beans with a severing charm and then daring each other to taste the particularly dubious-looking ones first. Andromeda thought it was worse to be second and know what was coming; Narcissa, that she would rather be prepared than surprised. Evidently on this occasion they had mixed up two different blue beans, and while Andromeda had been less than impressed by what she assured her younger sister was a safe but repulsive jellyfish flavour, Narcissa had washed down her half without chewing. And then she had hiccuped.

'What happened then?' the boy asked, and Narcissa laughed.

A roiling cloud of flame broke from her mouth, rolled across the ward and up to the ceiling.

'Oh my God!'

'Yeah.' She gave another little laugh, accompanied by a spurt of flame.

'And that happens every time you eat a peppermint?' It did at least explain why her blankets appeared to be made of metal.

'Hmm.' Narcissa had taken up a little pot from the iron-sheathed bedside cabinet and was smearing her lips with salve.

'Doesn't it hurt?' It wasn't a nosy question, rather the matter of fact sympathy of one well-acquainted with pain. Narcissa shook her head carefully.

'Not really. Only if I catch my nose or something or accidentally swallow,' when it was very painful indeed. One of her first memories was of a miserable Christmas spent lying on a sofa in the drawing-room with no eyebrows and little hair, crying at the smell of roast game and turkey and ham drifting in from the kitchens, her father having to hold her down as her mother poured potions down her throat because her mouth was too burned to allow her to eat. With such incentive, self-control had been a lesson learned early and well. Narcissa turned to look at her companion, who was shifting about trying to get comfortable under the blankets. 'You need to sit up and pull down the tails of your pyjama jacket and then keep them tight as you lie down.'

'Oh. Thanks.' The boy straightened himself out and lay down again, half closing his eyes.

'Do you want to sleep?'

'No.' The reply was much firmer than his previous words. Nightmares, thought Narcissa. The light brown hair on the white pillow looked somehow familiar, the pale little face more than yet another brattish kid in the corridors. She found herself thinking of boyish laughter, irritation, ah...

'You're Sirius's friend, aren't you? Remus...something.'

'Lupin.' He wasn't offended. There were children in his own year who didn't know his name. He was unassuming. He had to be.

'That's it. Sorry. I'm Narcissa Black.'

'I know. Sirius said.'

'What else did he say - no, don't worry,' she went on, 'don't tell me.' At least the pink flush along his cheekbones made him look healthier. 'You're a Gryffindor, then. Do you like it?'

'It's great.' He smiled at last. 'I always wanted to be a Gryffindor.'

'You're all completely mad, you know. I'm a Slytherin myself, like my sisters.'

'Yes...' A bit hesitant; who wouldn't be?

'Don't worry, I know what Sirius says about us.' About all Slytherins, the little beast.

'You don't always get on very well, for cousins,' said Lupin tentatively.

'Maybe not,' Narcissa agreed. 'It's natural enough. I'm older, I'm a girl, and he's an annoying little beast. I have a strange objection to being jinxed for fun. You know what families are like. Haven't you got any cousins?'

'Lots, but they're all much older than me.'

'You miss out. Everyone should have enemies, especially enemies that don't actually matter, I mean, that it's really just your way of getting on. It's only family. You can't be expected to like all of them all of the time. It doesn't mean that we want bad things for each other. Just that Sirius creates havoc and I don't like it, and I'm better at Quidditch than he is, and he doesn't like that.' Silence. 'Come on,' Narcissa urged, 'I know you're friends and a Gryffindor and loyal and everything, but you've got to admit that Sirius can't play Quidditch.

'Maybe.'

'Oh, come on. He's rubbish, always has been. That's why he never plays, because he can't stand being bad at something. Bellatrix is like that, too. She always has to get something right or she won't do it at all.'

'I don't think Sirius is that bothered about it, really,' said Lupin reflectively.

'You're probably right, but it doesn't help. Wouldn't you be annoyed if your cousin - a freak and a girl - had beaten you every single time you'd ever got on a broom?'

'I suppose so.'

'Come on, you know you would.' Honesty won out, and he broke into a grin.

'I'd be livid.'

'See, it wasn't that hard, was it?' She smiled, and a small flame flickered from a nostril. 'Whoops.'

'Is that really why you don't like each other,' Lupin asked, 'that he's bad at Quidditch, and you don't like jokes?' Narcissa nodded.

'Mostly. It's not the world's greatest feud, is it?'

'But Sirius is always hexing Bellatrix, and she just gets him back.'

'When you have to spend your life being careful in case you burn the house down when you eat the wrong food, it's a bit hard to appreciate unexpected pranks. And Sirius is a bit more...careful with Bellatrix. You watch next time. He knows how far he can push it.' She shrugged. 'I expect we'll get on better when we're older.'

'But you like Andromeda, and she likes Sirius.'

'Well, they've got more in common. They're pathological rebels, no respect for anybody, and they only open their mouths to be sarcastic.' Both typical Blacks, in fact.

'That isn't fair! Sirius...Sirius can be really nice,' Lupin tailed off. Narcissa wouldn't have known what to say either. Sirius was his friend, after all, and she had to admit he had some good qualities for a friend. He was clever, enthusiastic, active and impulsive; fun to be around if you liked that sort of thing. Moreover Lupin seemed a bit perkier, so she kept going. It was certainly a lot more interesting than studying masonry, or Hogwarts: A History. She didn't know many of the younger children outside Slytherin.

'So is Sirius your best friend, then?'

'Yeah.' An enthusiastic nod was accompanied by a small wince and shift of his shoulder. 'Him and James and Peter.'

'I don't know any Peters. Is he Muggle-born?' Mudblood, but you never can tell what a Gryffindor will say. 'James...James Potter? Sirius talks about him. God, he's weird.'

'He's brilliant!' Narcissa heard the indignant tone in Lupin's voice and ignored it.

'I'm sure he is,' she sneered. 'Quite the joker, and such a prig, though I'll admit he's good at Quidditch. But he's always ranting on against dark magic as if every Slytherin were born from the blood of serpents, and then he goes running round cursing everyone who's done more Defence Against the Dark Arts than him, because obviously they got their marks through nefarious means.' Lupin did not respond, possibly because it was true, possibly because he didn't know what nefarious meant. Narcissa breathed out heavily. It wasn't really fair to go on at the boy. He was too young to be responsible for his friends, and he seemed quite nice himself. Maybe he would be a restraining influence on Sirius, though she doubted it. Azkaban wouldn't be a restraining influence on Sirius. She cast around for a change of subject, but he was there first.

'Narcissa?

'Hmm?'

'What does everyone else in your family look like? I, I mean,' he went on hesitantly, suddenly seeming aware that he had asked a rather personal question, and one that could only be construed in one way. 'You don't look very much like Sirius, or your sisters, and...I wondered...'

'You're asking if I dye my hair?' She was oddly amused. After all, no-one ever had come right out and said it.

'No!' On the other hand, it was an easy way out. 'Do you?'

'No. Mother would kill me! But I do look like Sirius. Not as much as Bellatrix does, but I am a Black, and you can't be a Black without the Black looks.'

'But you haven't got them!' He was bemused.

'Actually, I have.' Narcissa sat up carefully and turned towards him, scraping her hair back with her unbandaged hand. 'Imagine I had straight black hair and darker eyes. Wouldn't I look exactly like Andromeda? And look,' she shook her hair forward over her eyes and looked out sideways at him, cocking her head into a wink, 'isn't that like Sirius?'

' Oh yes!'

'You see, it's just my colouring that's a bit...different. Otherwise we're the same. Not exactly, of course, but we're obviously family. There's a photograph of me with dark hair as a baby. I look more like father in it than either of my sisters did.' There was a sudden edge to her voice, almost as if she were angry. It seemed oddly important to her, and Remus thought that perhaps he should stop, but she didn't seem angry at him, and she wasn't challenging him about Sirius any more. Also, while she was talking about herself she wasn't asking what he was doing in the hospital wing - not that he didn't have a story worked out - so he didn't stop himself but went on,

'What do you mean, you had dark hair? You're fair.'

'Yes, thanks to my beloved sister.'

'To Andromeda?' His mouth fell open with a little gasp. 'Oh, no wonder you don't like practical jokes! Does Sirius know?'

'Oh, Sirius knows,' she answered darkly. 'That's why he's never pushed Bellatrix too far, because he knows. It wasn't Andromeda that did it, it was Bellatrix.' Her beloved sister, the quiet, the brilliant, the beautiful Bellatrix, jealous for parental attention for the only time in her life. 'She cast an...accidental...spell on me, when I was a baby. It did this, and the peppermint thing, too.' It had done some other things, but Narcissa did not mention them. Even her own parents didn't know most of it. No clever child is unaware that secrets can be very valuable things, and Narcissa's were more valuable than most. She thought of her parents looking into her wide blue eyes as they questioned her, and seeing only what they wanted to see, pretty little Narcissa looking back, of the professors gleaning the snatch that she let them have as they moved on to question the next child and she rested secure behind the glassy curve of her inviolate mind. She thought of the disastrous trip to the Muggle zoo, where her parents had taken their children one holiday. Her father had always had an interest in animals. She thought of the time she had seen a Dementor. 'I can't eat butter beans, or cabbage, and ghosts make me go queasy, oh, and hippogriffs don't like me,' she finished blandly.

'Me neither.' Even beneath the peaky look, she saw him blanche.

'Oh?' she asked.

'Err, I meant,' he went on hurriedly, 'I...I don't like them.' Ah, thought Narcissa, but I don't think that was what you meant.

'They're so temperamental,' she said mildly, and watched out of the corner of her eye as Lupin relaxed back into the pillows. He really was quite an interesting little boy. 'I prefer thestrals. I know they have a bad reputation, but they're much more useful than hippogriffs. Quite a lot of the unusual magical creatures are unjustly maligned, you know.'

'Hmm.'

'Don't you think so?'

'I don't really know.' Narcissa closed her eyes. She was trying to be nice, but talking to him was like trying to get somebody else's gold out of a goblin.

'Take werewolves, then. There was an article in the Daily Prophet last week by a man who's a werewolf, all about the lengths he's had to go to in order to keep it secret, just because Wizarding society refuses to accept anything that isn't absolutely ordinary. Did you read it?'

'I...I think I had a look.'

'It said he was going to write a book about it. I'll have to get it when it comes out, it was ever so interesting.' The boy was looking at her curiously, a little crease of a frown between his eyebrows, as if he were trying to work out a difficult new idea.

'Do you like werewolves?'

'I don't care about them one way or the other, so long as they don't bite me. Why should I? Narcissa shrugged.

'Most people don't think that,' Lupin said flatly.

'That's most people for you. Everyone's so, so,' what was that word, 'bourgeois these days. They wouldn't bat an eyelid at a Muggle-born Minister of Magic, but try telling them that a vampire might be worth talking to...The really old families are a bit more liberal about that kind of stuff. My aunt's a bit funny, but she can only trace back six generations so she's paranoid. Uncle Alphard spent ten years living with giants when he was young, and Sirius probably thinks werewolves are cool or something.'

'Do you think so?' asked Lupin quietly.

'I thought you knew Sirius? Something dangerous, rare, magical, powerful, of course he'd think it was cool. I reckon...'

'Narcissa! Have you seen...' Madam Pomfrey bustled onto the ward. 'Ah, there you are, Remus. Feeling alright?' The boy nodded as the matron looked rather quizzically across at Narcissa. He avoided her eye, looking away out of the window.

'Lupin was looking for you,' she said. 'I thought he shouldn't be walking about.'

'Thank you, dear, I'll check on you in an hour and you can try to eat something. Remus,' the witch said, glancing down at the watch pinned to her apron, 'I'll give you ten minutes.'

'Yes, Madam Pomfrey.'

'Good boy.' Madam Pomfrey gave him a little smile, which Narcissa could not help noticing was much more tender than her usual brisk bedside manner, and swept out of the room. Narcissa also noticed that Lupin had gone pale again. He had not been glad to see the woman for whom he had earlier been searching.

'I have to go,' he said, still not looking at Narcissa.

'Yes.'

'Thanks for talking to me.'

'It was nice. Try telling that to Sirius.'

'I will.' Lupin swung his feet over the edge of the bed and dropped to the ground. 'I'm sorry if I was a bit nosy.'

'That's OK. I'd have set fire to you if you'd offended to me.' Lupin looked momentarily shocked, and then grinned. 'By the way,' Narcissa added, raising her head and turning to look directly at him, 'you'll notice that I didn't ask what you were in for. That's because I can work it out for myself.' The grin dropped instantly as Lupin shrank back against the wall, suddenly seeming much smaller. He couldn't move, only gaze over at Narcissa where she lay with her golden hair spilling over the uncomfortable-looking pillow, still smiling kindly at him. 'Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes, you do. I saw you looking out of the window. The moon rises on the other side of the castle.'

'I know,' he said quietly.

'Most people wouldn't.' He was silent, and Narcissa saw the beginning of an unmistakable quiver in his lower lip.

'Please don't tell,' he whispered. 'Please. They'd hate me. I'd have to leave.'

'I won't.'

'You promise? Please?'

'I promise. We freaks and half-breeds need to stick together,' she said ruefully. 'I swear that I won't say a word. Just make sure you don't tell anyone about me and Bellatrix. And you might suggest that Sirius give the hexes a rest when I'm around.' He still looked worried. Well, she could hardly ask him to work miracles. 'I don't mean it as a threat, you understand, just a favour. I used to have a peaceful time at school.'

'OK.'

'You really should tell him, you know. He'd think it unbelievably exciting.'

'Maybe.'

'Try it. But don't ever ask to meet his mother.'

Lupin smiled goodbye and padded softly out of the room. The small patch of sky visible through the narrow window shone pink over the Forbidden Forest. A werewolf at Hogwarts, who would have thought? Narcissa wondered if she had been right to tell him that she knew; she hadn't been entirely certain before she said it and saw him react. Andromeda would have kept silent, folded it away her store of knowledge, watching out for confirmation. Bellatrix...Narcissa wasn't certain about Bellatrix. She might not even have noticed. After all, Sirius himself hadn't, but then Sirius being quick in other ways was also quick to judgement and sometimes saw things rather blurred as a result. Narcissa hoped she hadn't made a mistake in urging Lupin to tell his friend, but he had looked so sorry, so closed in, so used to worrying alone. And she had told him the truth, that the oldest families cared the least about such things. Who knew so well as they that everybody has their secrets? Then what did a few more matter?