The Other Black Girl

Her pure and eloquent blood,

Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought,

That one might almost say, her body wrought

John Donne

The Real Dark Arts

"Andromeda, do try to control your excitement and sit still! It is most unbecoming," Mother snapped as we sped towards London. Narcissa, sitting opposite me, tried to control a smile. She had grown tired of my constant questioning about Hogwarts as well. My elder sister had come back with an air of superiority, which infuriated Bella and me. Although she had somewhat reverted back to her usual self as the summer dragged on, she had seemed less keen to join in with our games. Instead she had spent her time shopping with Mother. She seemed to enjoy being shown off to our parents' friends, wearing her new dress robes. On the journey to Hogwarts, she had spent most of the time brushing her hair and winding it around her head so that it looked like a golden crown.

I gazed out of the window at the picture perfect fields below us. It was common knowledge that my parents owned a flying carriage pulled by two Thestrals. It was accepted that the Blacks were above petty Ministry rules; however, Mother had the carriage parked a little way from King's Cross and the three of us (and the two house elves carrying our trunks) used a Portkey to travel to Platform nine and three quarters. Mother strode down the platform in a businesslike fashion with us hot on her heels. As she passed, various witches and wizards greeted her. Mostly she would just nod to them, barely acknowledging their presence. The fortunate few she spoke to were people I recognised as old friends of the family, many high up in the Ministry, who attended my parents' parties and with whose children I played.

"Cassandra!" Vladimir Malfoy, a tall blond man with an arresting gaze, kissed Mother's hand delicately. "Radiant as ever."

Mother smiled coldly. The Malfoys were a bit 'new blood' for her tastes, having only seven generations of unblemished wizarding heritage. However, they were both rich and powerful, which made up for it.

"My eldest, Narcissa," she said, turning to introduce us.

"Breathtaking," said Vladimir, looking her up and down with his piercing eyes. "I suppose she's in the same year as my son Lucius?"

""The year below, Sir," Narcissa said softly, through lowered lashes.

"Ah! Madame Black!" said a tall dark haired woman with a slight lilt to her voice. Rumour was that Helios Avery's pretty French wife had been determined to send her children to Beauxbaton; obviously she had lost the battle.

"Madeline, I was just introducing my daughters, Narcissa and Andromeda."

"More Black beauties," her husband said dryly, and then turned to talk to Malfoy.

"Oui, they are magnifique," said Madeline. "Odette is starting her first year, aren't you, ma petite?" Odette Avery was small, dark and skinny. She gave me a half smile and after a prod from her Mother, said hello sweetly. Behind us the train gave a little puff of steam.

"Come, girls," Mother said, nodding to the Averys. The house elves jumped to attention with our luggage. She gave us one last inspection as we boarded the train.

"Don't slouch, Andromeda, and I don't want to hear that you have spent the year with your nose in yet more books." She shook her head with an exasperated expression.

"Yes, Mother," I said.

"And Narcissa, look after your sister. Maybe she can teach you a thing or two about acceptable grades."

"Yes, Mother," said Narcissa.

"Remember, I expect you to behave. I would rather have you dead at my feet than have you disgrace the family name," Mother said coldly, fingering her ornate necklace of interwoven Rookwood and Black crests.

"Yes, Mother," we chorused. We didn't doubt for a minute that she meant what she said; however it barely distressed us. Since early childhood, we had been taught that it was an honour to be born a Black. A daughter who did not maintain the honour she was lucky enough to be born with was worthless.

"Well, have a good term." She kissed the air above our heads and swept off like an icy breeze.

***********

"Can I come in a boat with you?" Odette Avery asked after I said goodbye to Narcissa on the Hogwarts platform. I had spent most of the train journey being introduced to my sister's friends. Many of them I already knew. They accepted me instantly, although with Narcissa present they didn't pay me much attention. The way Narcissa behaved filled me with a mixture of pride and confusion. She barely said a word of her own, laughing quietly at Alexis Wilkes' jokes. When she did speak, to say that she was hot, there was a rush from the boys to open the windows for her until everything in the carriage blew around. The girls kept their distance from her. There was obvious envy in their eyes as Lucius Malfoy, the unspoken leader of the group, conjured up a glass of water for Narcissa and sharply ordered the rest to stop crowding around her. Odette seemed to notice her effect on people as well. "Your sister is very beautiful," she said, awestruck, as we sat in the small boat.

"Of course she is," I said proudly.

"So are you, you're so lucky! How do you get your hair so straight? Mine has this annoying little kink!" Odette said chirpily, and then paused. "Oh... hello?"

A slightly chubby dark haired boy with an open face and a blond haired girl sat down in our boat. The boy smiled and said, "Hullo, Frank Longbottom."

"Andromeda Black," I said.

"A real Black?" asked the girl, impressed.

I nodded. "And you are?"

"Alice De Winter," said the girl shyly. She blushed a little while she said it and I soon understood why. I had heard the name of De Winter on my parents' lips a lot recently, always with a kind of contemptuous sneer. Odette, in a tactless fashion, voiced my thoughts.

"Merlin! Your sister ran off with a Mudblood, didn't she?" she exclaimed, recoiling slightly from Alice, who bit her lip and opened her mouth to speak but Odette cut her short.

"Ooooo... that must be terrible," she said enthusiastically. "Imagine having a dirty Mudblood in the family."

Alice looked like she was going to cry and Frank leapt to her defence.

"Her sister is still alive and well. She hasn't contracted some kind of disease, you know," he told her sarcastically. Odette gave him a disbelieving look.

"We don't see her anymore, no one went to the wedding or anything," said Alice quietly. I could see she was staring at me as though she was desperate for me to understand this.

"I guess that's OK, then," said Odette unsurely. "I'm Odette Avery, by the way."

"Like the swan princess?" I asked, suddenly remembering Narcissa's fairytale book and smiling more to myself then to the others.

"Oh yes!" said Alice who looked relieved to find that the attention was taken away from her. "She has an evil curse put upon her and only turns back to a princess by moonlight?"

"It's not a curse. It's a hex called a Lupinus transfiguration and your victim needs to drink liquid wolfsbane beforehand," I said immediately, remembering an afternoon I had spent in Father's library.

"That's very dark magic, how do you know that?" said Frank, giving me a strange look.

"Well, how do you know it's very dark magic?" I said, staring right back at him and liking him less and less.

"My father's an Auror. I know all about your father, of course," he said, his voice unreadable.

"Don't speak that way about my family!" I snapped, completely appalled and secretly confused. Frank's father was high up in the Auror department and was much respected. He moved in similar circles to our Father's, although it was common knowledge that their lineage was not as pure as ours. I had never heard a word against my family and I suddenly felt unsure of myself.

"The Blacks? I wouldn't dare," he said quietly, with an edge to his voice.

Alice and Odette looked confused. Fortunately, at that moment Hogwarts castle loomed out of the dusk and we all forgot the exchange as we stared wide-eyed. Throughout my short life I had visited and stayed in many grand houses and castles. Black Manor itself, the house I had been born in, taken my first steps in, and slept almost every night of my life was extensive and imposing and full of hidden passages and sealed rooms. However, Hogwarts took my breath away. Finally Odette broke the silence

"Has anybody got a hairbrush?" she whispered theatrically.

***********************

"So, another Black eh?" From under the sorting hat's rim I could see Narcissa's blond hair sparkling in the candlelight at the Slytherin table.

"Ah, I see you don't like my tone? No. Your sister didn't either, neither did your mother or father or grandmother or grandfather. I've sorted generations of Blacks and none of them liked being talked down to. Funny that, eh?" I bit my lip, feeling completely helpless. Narcissa and Bellatrix had always teased me about my inability to show emotion. As a child, whenever I had felt upset I had simply buried myself in books or imaginary worlds. Bella used to devote hours to trying to get me to laugh. However, only her uncanny impression of our aunt Black (which sent Narcissa into guilty peals) could raise more than a smile. All through my childhood, I had lived in step with my sisters. We had slept together every night and played together every day in our magical worlds. I had felt their emotions as if they had been my own; however, mine were a private realm. Having my mind read sent a shiver down my spine. I wished I knew Legilimency so that I could block the sorting hat out.

"Hmmm, let me see... you have a fine mind here--yes, you have aptitude and a thirst for knowledge, you would make a good Ravenclaw," said the hat. "But wait, what is this? Oh yes--you can't hide this from me, although I know you want to. You have a strong streak of resourcefulness and independence. What's that? Ah, you think I'm joking but it's there. You just have to find it. Well, this is interesting--now where to put you? You would do well in Ravenclaw. Yes, but then you are a Black. There is really only one place where you belong............ SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted and I breathed a sigh of relief while the table cheered.

***********************************

I fell in love with Hogwarts. I was instantly accepted as the sister of the most beautiful second year and another Black girl. No questions were asked; there didn't need to be. The Slytherin common room could have been any of my parent's parties. I had known most of the inhabitants since childhood. We knew each other's parents, siblings, birthdays, houses and favourite foods. We had played together, fought together, and had crushes on each other before we even got on the Hogwarts Express. Together we formed a strange kind of family, bonded together, despite our differences, by a kind of unconditional loyalty. I didn't attempt to make friends or form close relationships. As children we had learnt impeccable manners, but not social skills--it seemed almost degrading to admit that 'The Blacks' might need them. Now, with a whole new library to explore, other people were the last thing on my mind.

Both Mother and Narcissa had lectured me on how 'acting like a know-it-all' was unfitting for a girl, even for a Black girl. So for my first week I kept my mouth shut, letting the boys answer all the questions, smiling sweetly and biting my tongue. However, in our first 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' lesson, I finally succumbed.

Professor Blake was a tall, rugged man who spent ten years in the jungles of Peru battling with vipertooth dragons. Unfortunately, a rather vicious bite had sent him back to Britain where he had reluctantly taken up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Despite the fact that he was being paid to teach us, he constantly reminded us that it was beneath him and a waste of his skills and talents.

"Settle down, first years, put away your wands. They're not playthings--and I don't care if you can turn a spider into a beetle, Mr Nott. I've seen more impressive stunts done by house elves," he said nonchalantly. Theo blushed bright red and dropped his desk lid with a slam. Next to me, Odette threw him a sympathetic look and her prettiest smile. My dark haired little roommate had gone all out for Lucius Malfoy from the first day, but even she could not help but notice his infatuation with my sister, so she had made a quick switch to Theodore Nott who, because of his high family connections and Quidditch skills, was becoming quite popular with the first year girls.

"All right," said Professor Blake. "Puny and inconsequential as your intellect might be, I'm sure that none of you can fail to give me a definition of the Dark Arts."

I could see the expressions etched on my classmate's faces as they avoided eye contact with him. What were the Dark Arts? They were things our parents practised behind closed doors, books in our Fathers' libraries that we couldn't touch and whispered conversations we weren't supposed to hear. They were what every self-respecting Pureblood was expected to experiment with but never mention. For me, they were hot afternoons in the woods with Bella chanting from spell books, her eyes bright.

Professor Blake swivelled around looking for a likely victim and fixed his eyes on a small Ravenclaw with unruly freckles and curly brown hair.

"Ah, Mr...?"

"Tonks, Sir," said the boy and I recognised him as one of Frank Longbottom's little Mudblood friends. Around me people relaxed. Obviously, if Blake was singling out Mudbloods, then he was on our side.

"Well, Mr...umm... Tonks, care to enlighten us?" said Blake, enunciating his obviously Muggle surname with a cool smile.

"The Dark Arts are a series of illegal spells, hexes and curses which are used with the intent of causing harm or destruction," said Tonks, smiling shyly but surely. He had a strange accent, which I had never heard before, but which sounded sharper than mine did.

I did a double take; obviously I was not the only person who had memorised the textbook. Next to me, Odette made a small indignant sound and I felt my hand shoot up.

"Very good, Mr Tonks, five points to Ravenclaw." He turned to me.

"I disagree," I said.

"Miss...?" Blake raised an eyebrow

"Black, Professor. That may be the textbook definition of the Dark Arts, but it oversimplifies the matter. Surely the 'Dark Arts' is a vague term for whatever spells the ministry sees fit to ban. The real Dark Arts were set down at the beginning of magic and their secrets have been lost since. Nowadays, to determine whether a spell is really one of the Dark Arts, one has to look at it in context and how it is used." Pouring out some of the knowledge that had welled up inside me filled me half with euphoria, and half with shock, at my quick flash of confidence.

My heart beat savagely in my chest but I willed it to slow down. "You are a Black," I told myself. "A Black girl and a Rookwood girl..." The words strengthened me as they always did, and suddenly I heard myself speak again.

"Of course I don't expect Tonks to know that." I flashed Ted Tonks a patronising smile to round it off and leaned back in my seat.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin. Very good, Miss Black," said Blake giving me a piercing look and then he turned back sharply to the rest of the class. "Well, don't just sit there gawking at the girl just because she managed to make a valid comment! Write it down!"

For once I couldn't stop the corners of my mouth creeping up.

*********************************

That evening in the common room, Lucius Malfoy broke away from the chattering crowd that was sitting playing cards by the fire and wandered over to where I was deeply engrossed in a long letter to Bella. I had kept my promise of writing to my younger sister every day, my quill flying across the parchment. Sometimes I missed Bellatrix so much I almost couldn't breathe. My letters were intricate and systematic, describing all the twists and turns of life at Hogwarts with the same precision as I did my homework. The replies in Bella's spidery hand were typically erratic, full of complicated asterisks and crossings out. Her letters talked little of her day-to-day life. Instead, they gave me a strange window into her world. I learnt the feeling of her sunburnt legs in the cold stream, the smell of bonfire smoke from the nearby Muggle village, and the crackle of fallen leaves under her and Sirius's bodies as they play wrestled on the ground. As I read them I was transported back to the woods and to the safe shore of our childhood. It was during the night, lying alone in my large bed and fingering the family crest around my neck as I listened to Odette's snores, I missed my little sister more than anything.

Deep in thought, I barely noticed that Lucius was standing over me and that the group by the fire were looking my way and whispering.

"Is it true what happened in Blake's class?" he asked, fixing me with interest. I nodded and glanced over to where Odette was staring at me with rapt curiosity. Lucius nodded back at me and shook my hand.

"Congratulations," he said. "Someone had to let the Mudbloods know who's boss in your year."

"Thanks."

"How did you get so clever for a girl?" he asked with interest.

"I'm a Black," I pointed out simply and he nodded, satisfied, and said, "Well, keep it up."

So I did, and my love affair with Hogwarts continued. I threw myself into my work with all my energy, letting the world of the mind consume me. In class I was always first to answer and asked question after question until I began to infuriate even the easy-going Professor Sprout. My classmates were bemused, but they let me get on with it. After all, one expected the Black girls to be a little different from everyone else. The girls in my dormitory would sigh and say, "Andromeda's off again," wanting me to put away my books and join them in their hair care sessions (they seemed to think that by default of being Narcissa's sister I would be an expert on this subject).

"But you're so pretty!" Odette moaned when she found me engrossed in a potions essay. "You could get any boy to do it for you".

There was only one boy who I would have trusted my Potions grades to, although I would have never had admitted it. Ted Tonks was jostling for my place as the best student in the year. At first I hadn't noticed it. After all, he was only a Mudblood and supposedly not a real threat. However, he seemed to be learning about the wizarding world fast and soon we were neck and neck, getting top grades in equal numbers of classes. Luckily we didn't share many lessons but those we did became a battlefield of wits as we ran rings around each other. I didn't hate him. I didn't think enough of him for that, but I had been brought up to take for granted that I would always be the best and it annoyed me that a boy with shabby robes and muggle parents could dare to challenge a Black.

"You're wasting your time, Mudblood," I told him at the end of one particularly heated Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson near the end of the term. The rest of our classmates had poured out of the classroom but he'd stayed to repack his battered bag, which had split again. He didn't look up but asked from the floor:

"Why's that?"

"Look, Tonks," I flashed him a cold smile. "My Great Grandfather was headmaster of this school. My family has been at this school since it was founded. My Father was head boy, as was his father. Half of the governors are related to me--Dumbledore himself is my second cousin three times removed."

"Your point is?" he asked levelly.

"My point is that you don't know what you're dealing with," I said narrowly, my hand instantly going to my necklace.

He smiled. "Well, cheers for telling me. I'll 'ave trouble sleeping tonight, I'm sure."

"You're wasting your time," I repeated, annoyed that he was not backing down as I expected him to.

"We'll see," he said lightly, swinging the bag on his back and biting his lip as half his books fell out, as though it had never occurred to him that it might happen. We considered each other for a moment: the untidy little Mudblood with second hand robes and freckles all over his smirking face and the immaculately dressed pureblood with long chestnut hair and the grey eyes flashing with annoyance. We were the same age, but our worlds were so different that to try and understand each other would have taken more power then we could muster at twelve, even if we had wanted to.

But the term was fast coming to a close and Ted Tonks was the last thing on my mind.

Soon, I would be home with Bella. I could almost hear her high voice singing Christmas carols and I could imagine her grey eyes lighting up as she wrapped her arms around me on the station platform. Soon I would have my other self back. Soon I would be complete again.