fic: things are not what they seem (2/3) (sirius, narcissa, walburga, bellatrix, andromeda, g)
Title: Things Are Not What They Seem (2/3)
Author: V.M. Bell
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR.
Summary: Deceit and manipulation are storied traditions of the Black family, employed with equal dexterity by all, even by those who seek the truth.
Rating: G
Characters: Sirius, Narcissa, Walburga, Bellatrix, Andromeda
Word Count 3,545 (13,547 total)
Author's Notes: Originally written for lareinenoire at springtime_gen. I owe an infinite amount of gratitude to the mods, who were so patient with me as I scrambled to finish my assignment. And, of course, many thanks for my beta alexajohnson, who endured my late-night flailing-filled e-mails, held my proverbial hand, and gave me the world's best encouragement when I needed it. All comments, concrit, and reviews weclome.
Part 1
--
Walburga has no sooner rapped her knuckles on her son's door when she detects a rustling of paper and the slamming of a drawer. To her, this is sufficient cause to simply walk into Sirius's room without permission. She finds him seated at his desk, hunched over something.
"What are you doing?" She eyes the scroll of parchment partially obscured by his arm.
"What do you mean, what am I doing?"
Walburga shakes her head. This one is insufferable, she thinks. "Give it to me."
"I'm just working on an essay for Potions next year --"
But his excuse is cut short by her Summoning charm, and the incriminating evidence flies into her hand. She is surprised, though, to find a singular line of text scrawled at the top of the page. She looks at the words: An Essay about the Proporties of --
"My dear son," she sighs, returning the parchment to him. "I would check your spelling of the word properties."
"Oh, right. Didn't notice, sorry." Picking up his quill, he scratches out the offending word and replaces it with the correct one. He examines his work for a second, then sets the quill down and looks up at her.
"I spoke to Narcissa earlier this evening," Walburga says. "She told me that she and you went to Fortescue's together, is that correct?" Sirius nods. "And then she took you Gambol & Japes and you bought a, ah, another fake wand?"
Her son reaches into a shopping bag next to his chair and pulls out his purchase. "James got this for Christmas last year. He said it was the best fake wand he's ever seen."
Walburga crosses her arms. "I suppose I can accept a little diversion, although I shall have to speak to your cousin about this. Nonetheless, she told me that you were very well behaved today. I almost did not believe her, given your behavior at home thus far this summer."
"I like going to Diagon Alley," Sirius says, setting the wand aside.
She is too pleased with herself to resist a smile, which her son no doubts interprets as a sign of affection. She now knows that she has chosen correctly in trusting her youngest niece. "In that case, Sirius, I shall see to it that you and your cousins are able to visit Diagon Alley every week, if you would like."
--
"What did Aunt Walburga want with you?"
Narcissa does not look up from her novel. "Nothing in particular."
"Come off it, Cissy." Narcissa's mattress squeaks as Bella sits down at the foot of it. Sighing, Narcissa sets her book aside only to find her sister leering at her. "You can tell me anything."
"I told you, it wasn't anything important. She just asked me how the day went, if -- " If Sirius showed any signs of restlessness or rebellion, Aunt Walburga had asked, but Narcissa cannot tell Bella that. "What Sirius and I did -- you know, those things," she finishes.
"She didn't ask about me?"
"You're already of age. What you do -- I imagine that isn't our aunt's concern, is it?"
"Spoken truly, my little one."
"I hate it when you call me that."
Ignoring Narcissa's complaint, Bella sweeps her hair to one side. "Did Aunt Walburga say anything about being able to go back?"
"She did. She said we could go once every week."
"Oh, Cissy, you're brilliant -- "
"What are you doing in Diagon Alley that's so important anyway?" Bella is frozen, her mouth slightly parted as she searches for an answer, and, in that moment, Narcissa's suspicions are confirmed: Bella is up to something dangerous and likely illegal. "Well?"
Bella averts her eyes to the floor. "Cissy, I really didn't want to tell you -- "
"Bella, I am sick of you treating me as if I were a -- a child who will do whatever you tell her to do! I don't care how much older you are. I am going to be starting my sixth year, and I am not stupid -- "
"Don't speak so loudly, or you'll wake everybody up," Bella whispers urgently.
"Then tell me. I imagine it has something to do with Rodolphus Lestrange, doesn't it, or those -- those secret groups that I hear about at Hogwarts."
A pause. "If you must know, I was meeting with Lucius Malfoy." Thus, all thoughts of pureblood conspiracies disappear, and the simple act of that name spoken into the air elicits a gasp from Narcissa. Bella watches her reaction with a measure of amusement. "Sister knows best, it seems. I always thought that, well, you two..."
"It's nothing," Narcissa says, her pulse racing.
"You don't have to lie to me, dear."
"Bella, stop." But, of course, Narcissa does not want her to stop.
"He wants to meet you as soon as you're willing to. Next week, even."
"Next week..." Her voice trails off. "I don't know if I can meet him, though."
"Are you nervous?"
"No, no, it -- well, yes, I am nervous, but I have to..." Realizing what is about to say, though, Narcissa bites her lip and shakes her head. "I can't tell you. I promised Aunt Walburga that I wouldn't tell."
Bella lays a hand on Narcissa's knee. "Cissy, Cissy, Cissy -- I understand that you care for our aunt deeply, but we are sisters. Now that Andromeda is thankfully gone, we must rely even more heavily on one another."
At the mention of their absent sibling, Narcissa grimaces. "I just have to watch Sirius, that's all, and to make sure that he does not get himself into any trouble."
"Our baby of a cousin getting himself into trouble?" Bella snorts. "As if he were intelligent enough to do that. Aunt Walburga is full of shit, isn't she?"
Narcissa widens her eyes upon hearing the remark, but she still shakes her head. Bella exhales noticeably. "All right, then. Look after Sirius, if you must, but you can meet with Lucius for just a little bit, can't you? He really likes you, Cissy, and you -- " Bella proffers a sympathetic smile " -- you've been fancying him for years, haven't you?"
--
When he is certain that Mother has gone to bed, Sirius pulls out James's letter.
Sirius,
What in Merlin's name was going on today?
James
It is late, and Sirius is tired, but he does not concede to exhaustion until he has sent a reply and threatened bodily harm against Athena unless she delivered it to him straightaway.
James,
Mother's got my cousin Narcissa following me like a dog. Dunno why she's suddenly acting like I'm going to run away or something. I'm sorry about today, I really am, but I need to get away from Cissy, one way or another. I'll try to think of something.
Sirius
--
Narcissa follows her cousin from a distance, watching as he cranes his head upward to read the spines of books beyond his reach. The sense of purpose that she drew last week from watching over Sirius is suddenly absent. Aunt Walburga worries needlessly about him, for she has found the boy to be perfectly docile and rather unlike Dromeda, who had never ceased to be a headache for the entire family. In fact, Sirius had not even seemed that displeased when she informed him that they would be going to Flourish & Blotts (Aunt Walburga had quietly reprimanded her at breakfast for allowing him to visit the joke shop last week). What maturity, she thinks, pleased that her charge has proven to be this accommodating.
"Cissy!"
Looking around at the sound of her name, Narcissa finds Bella waving toward her, and her stomach turns unpleasantly. "Sirius," she calls out, and her cousin's head turns toward her. "I'm going to speak to Bella for a moment. You won't -- you won't run far, will you?"
"No."
"Good, then I'll be back shortly, I promise." Darting through the line of customers, Narcissa finds Bella by the door. "What is it?"
"Are you ready?"
"You mean, he wants to meet me now?"
Bella places a hand on Narcissa's shoulder and pivots her toward the storefront windows. Watching her with a bemused smile is Lucius Malfoy, and it is all Narcissa can do to not cease breathing altogether.
--
Sirius throws a quick glance over his shoulder. Bella and Cissy are standing outside the store, and, as he squints, he notices a tall blond man in their company. Sirius identifies him as Lucius Malfoy, blood relation and feared Slytherin Prefect. Lucius is smiling, and he reaches for Narcissa's hand before inclining his head and placing a kiss upon it. His cousin, it seems, will be preoccupied for some time to come. Noting this, he slips away to the back of Flourish & Blotts. He opens a door marked "READING ROOM" to find a middle-aged witch sitting at a desk, a book propped open before her. She studies him for a moment, as if it were at all odd that an eleven year-old boy should ostensibly wish to enjoy his summer in a studious manner, but she soon drops her gaze and allows him to continue on his way.
Sirius looks around the room, and, there, in the back corner, is a head of black hair too distinctive to miss. Sirius walks to the armchair where James is curled up, flipping through a glossy periodical adorned with preening blond witches.
"About time, Sirius," James says coolly, but he is unable to suppress a grin as he sets his magazine aside. "Tell me, how did you give your cousin the slip?"
Thus, they begin to converse. James remarks upon Narcissa's sudden attentiveness toward Sirius, to which Sirius can offer no satisfactory rationale ("If she wasn't your cousin, mate, I'd say that she's quite good-looking," his friend remarks). Sirius asks James about his summer, and his friend speaks in rapturous tones about his family's upcoming trip to Wizarding Paris in July.
"Paris! That's brilliant, James. I don't think anyone in my family has ever been outside Britain."
"Well, I know it's brilliant. Dad has some business in Paris, I think, so he'll be bringing me and Mum along too. Oh, I almost forget that you're invited. I asked Dad if you could come with us, and he said that you would be very welcomed."
"I would really love to, but, you know, my cousins are here for the summer."
"Come on, Sirius, don't your cousins visit every year? They can't possibly like you that much."
"I know I see them every year, but this is year is different. I guess I forgot to tell you, but Andromeda -- she ran away from home a few days after term ended, and I think it's been really difficult on the family."
"She ran away? Why?"
"Dunno. She just sort of -- sort of disappeared, I guess."
"Really?" James drums his fingers against the armrest. "I'm quite sure I saw her today."
"You saw -- you saw Dromeda?"
"She's the one that looks like Bella, right, except with brown hair instead of black?"
"Yeah."
"Right, so I think I passed her as I was walking into Flourish & Blotts. I thought there was something strange about it because she was holding hands with someone -- oh, I'm pretty sure I know him too. Hufflepuff, same year as Andromeda's..." James rubs his face in his hands, and Sirius leans in, his head whirring with the burgeoning realization that perhaps things are not as they seem. "Got it! Ted Tonks. She was with Ted Tonks. Wait, Ted Tonks -- I'm not entirely certain, but he's a Muggleborn, isn't he?"
Sirius searches for an answer but finds that there is nothing he can say.
--
They are strolling down a country road, arm in arm and talking of life, love, and their boundless futures together. Beyond the brim of her hat, Lucius laughs, a gentle rolling sound that trails into the sunlight, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, skin breathing on skin --
A sharp hiss of pain stirs Narcissa from her sleep. Around her, somebody is moving. She forces an eye open. Left arm outstretched, her other hand rubbing it, Bella is standing, silhouetted against the light. Narcissa raises her head slightly from the pillow, wondering if her sister has somehow injured herself, but, as she examines Bella's arm, all she can discern is an inky black pattern colored upon it.
"Bella?"
Her sister's arms immediately fall to her sides. "Yes?"
"Are you hurt? Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine, Cissy. You must have dreamt it."
Ah, yes, her dreams -- eager to return to them, Narcissa allows her head to return to the curve of her pillow. When Bella slips out of the room, a long black cloak obscuring her features, Narcissa is asleep again.
--
The quill and parchment have been sitting on his desk for days now, but Sirius does not touch them. He can only stare at them from a distance, pondering the contents of his would-be letter in his head. After all, what does one write to an estranged relative, determined to never again associate herself with her kin? There is much he still does not know, much that he is not sure he wants to know, but he thinks he knows this much: Dromeda is in London, or, if she is not, then she is somewhere close to London. She is with a boy named Ted Tonks now, who is significant simply because he is not a pureblood. And, if he is not a pureblood, then Aunt Druella would have never approved of their match. Therefore, the only way that Dromeda could be with this boy is if --
Is it possible, Sirius asks himself, arms wrapped around his knees as he stares at the darkened house of Muggle neighbors from his window alcove, that Dromeda was not simply a generic malcontent, as Mother had informed him, but that she left home and renounced her family for the sake of -- for the sake of something he can only vaguely comprehend as love?
Sirius slides out of the alcove and sits down at his desk for what must be the umpteenth time this evening. He picks up his quill, dips it in the inkwell, and positions it just above the parchment. Best, he thinks, to not to reveal the nature of his knowledge and speculation.
Dear Dromeda,
Bella and Cissy are here in London for the summer, but you are not. I heard yesterday, though, that you were in Diagon Alley. I was in Diagon Alley too, and I go there every week now. Do you think that I could meet you, somewhere, at some time? I am at Diagon Alley on Wednesday afternoons. Please write back, if you can.
Sirius
Blowing lightly on the ink, Sirius regards his letter. There is something missing, so he picks up his quill and adds something at the bottom.
P.S. I miss you, Dromeda.
He summons Athena, now accustomed to bearing her master's nighttime missives, and sends her into the night. His eyes linger on the path of her flight, and he is suddenly worried that she may not be able to find Dromeda. Not knowing where to reach the latter, he had not given Athena an address, and he wonders what would happen if his owl never found his recipient. But he wills himself to remain calm. His owl has never failed to deliver any letter, no matter how imprecise his directions. He must trust her.
Yawning, Sirius stretches and throws a glance at the clock. Two in the morning, he thinks with a muted surprise before crawling into bed and promptly falling asleep.
An insistent rapping on his window wakes him in the morning. Barely conscious, he nonetheless implicitly identifies the origin of the sound as Athena, and, if she is back, then that must mean the letter has been delivered.
Sirius runs to the window and pulls it open. Athena soars into the room, circling it a few times, before settling back in her cage.
"You've got something for me?" he asks her, bending down to peer at her at eye level.
Hooting softly, she extends her leg, to which a folded square of parchment has been tied. The knot is strangely unyielding, but, a few minutes of nimble tugging later, the square of parchment falls into his hand. He unfolds it and quickly skims its contents.
Sirius,
Do you have any idea at all, how dangerous it is for you to be writing to me? I imagine my name is no longer in good standing with our family, and I do not blame them. But your mother will kill you -- kill us both, if she cared to find me, which she does not -- if she hears that you have been in contact with me, even if that contact only amounts to a single short letter.
I must compliment you on your choice of owl, though. What a racket she made just now, trying to get into my and Ted's room in the dead of night. She is currently perched on my desk, watching me write this. I wouldn't be surprised if she could read this as well.
Well, you heard that I was in Diagon Alley yesterday. Who told you this? Yes, I was in Diagon Alley, and it was only a matter of time, I suppose, before somebody in this family spotted me. Had it been one of my sisters, my mother, or your parents, I am certain that I would have been relegated to the surrounding scenery. A blood traitor, they would think, does not deserve our attentions. But you wrote to me, and you want to meet me.
Two things that I must say to you, cousin: (1) This is an utterly foolish idea, and (2) please think to yourself, if only for a second, what would become of you if anyone -- Bella, Cissy, your mother -- discovered the two of us in conversation. The punishment given to a blood traitor is harsh, and I would imagine that the punishment given to a family member caught consorting with one would not be much more lenient. Please think carefully and thoroughly -- do you really want to see me?
If the answer is no, do not feel obligated to reply to this note. If the answer is yes, then I will coincidentally be at the Three Vampires in Knockturn Alley next Wednedsay. Yes, that's right, Knockturn Alley. The likelihood of anyone recognizing us will be lower there. Poor Sirius, I can imagine your mouth dropping as you read this, but don't worry -- you're a Black and will fit right in.
Andromeda
P.S. Be discreet while you are in Knockturn Alley. You'll know how to spot me.
P.P.S. Oh, all right -- I miss you too.
--
"Narcissa?" At the sound of Aunt Walburga's voice, Narcissa sets the Daily Prophet aside. Her aunt is standing in front of her, a narrow black box in her hands. "There is something I would like to give to you."
"What is it?"
Aunt Walburga steps closer. "It is a surprise. I want you to close your eyes."
Narcissa is skeptical, for she was not aware that her Black relatives placed much stock in spontaneity, but there is never a need to disobey Aunt Walburga. Clearing her throat, she does as she is told but continues to listen carefully to her aunt's movements: the scrap of cardboard against cardboard as the box is opened, the slinking of metal flittering past her ears as it settles around her neck, and, gasping, she raises her hand to touch it, the silver chilled against her skin.
"Open your eyes," her aunt says.
She does. Aunt Walburga is holding a mirror before her, and, open-mouthed, Narcissa caresses the necklace. Her fingers trace the twists in the silver, winding and sinuous, until they land on a dark ruby set against the hollow of her throat.
"My mother gave it to me as my grandmother had given it to her. Cursed as I am with sons, I am giving it to you instead."
"Aunt Walburga, I couldn't -- I can't accept this. It doesn't belong to me. You should give it to Sirius, and, when he marries, he can give it to his wife."
Her aunt pays no need to her suggestion. "I know this summer has been difficult for you, especially with Druella in the state that she is in. Blood traitor or not, Andromeda was her daughter, but the loss is -- it has been overwhelming."
Narcissa sniffles. "Do you think that she -- well, we would have come to London anyway, but do you think that she brought us here earlier so that -- so that she would not have look at me and Bella and think that there was someone missing?"
"Narcissa," she says, placing a hand under Narcissa's chin and lifting her gaze, "you must know that I think about you as if you were my child."
And Narcissa, paralyzed, can only fall into her aunt's embrace.
--
Part 3
Signing off, V.M. Bell
Author: V.M. Bell
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR.
Summary: Deceit and manipulation are storied traditions of the Black family, employed with equal dexterity by all, even by those who seek the truth.
Rating: G
Characters: Sirius, Narcissa, Walburga, Bellatrix, Andromeda
Word Count 3,545 (13,547 total)
Author's Notes: Originally written for lareinenoire at springtime_gen. I owe an infinite amount of gratitude to the mods, who were so patient with me as I scrambled to finish my assignment. And, of course, many thanks for my beta alexajohnson, who endured my late-night flailing-filled e-mails, held my proverbial hand, and gave me the world's best encouragement when I needed it. All comments, concrit, and reviews weclome.
Part 1
--
Walburga has no sooner rapped her knuckles on her son's door when she detects a rustling of paper and the slamming of a drawer. To her, this is sufficient cause to simply walk into Sirius's room without permission. She finds him seated at his desk, hunched over something.
"What are you doing?" She eyes the scroll of parchment partially obscured by his arm.
"What do you mean, what am I doing?"
Walburga shakes her head. This one is insufferable, she thinks. "Give it to me."
"I'm just working on an essay for Potions next year --"
But his excuse is cut short by her Summoning charm, and the incriminating evidence flies into her hand. She is surprised, though, to find a singular line of text scrawled at the top of the page. She looks at the words: An Essay about the Proporties of --
"My dear son," she sighs, returning the parchment to him. "I would check your spelling of the word properties."
"Oh, right. Didn't notice, sorry." Picking up his quill, he scratches out the offending word and replaces it with the correct one. He examines his work for a second, then sets the quill down and looks up at her.
"I spoke to Narcissa earlier this evening," Walburga says. "She told me that she and you went to Fortescue's together, is that correct?" Sirius nods. "And then she took you Gambol & Japes and you bought a, ah, another fake wand?"
Her son reaches into a shopping bag next to his chair and pulls out his purchase. "James got this for Christmas last year. He said it was the best fake wand he's ever seen."
Walburga crosses her arms. "I suppose I can accept a little diversion, although I shall have to speak to your cousin about this. Nonetheless, she told me that you were very well behaved today. I almost did not believe her, given your behavior at home thus far this summer."
"I like going to Diagon Alley," Sirius says, setting the wand aside.
She is too pleased with herself to resist a smile, which her son no doubts interprets as a sign of affection. She now knows that she has chosen correctly in trusting her youngest niece. "In that case, Sirius, I shall see to it that you and your cousins are able to visit Diagon Alley every week, if you would like."
--
"What did Aunt Walburga want with you?"
Narcissa does not look up from her novel. "Nothing in particular."
"Come off it, Cissy." Narcissa's mattress squeaks as Bella sits down at the foot of it. Sighing, Narcissa sets her book aside only to find her sister leering at her. "You can tell me anything."
"I told you, it wasn't anything important. She just asked me how the day went, if -- " If Sirius showed any signs of restlessness or rebellion, Aunt Walburga had asked, but Narcissa cannot tell Bella that. "What Sirius and I did -- you know, those things," she finishes.
"She didn't ask about me?"
"You're already of age. What you do -- I imagine that isn't our aunt's concern, is it?"
"Spoken truly, my little one."
"I hate it when you call me that."
Ignoring Narcissa's complaint, Bella sweeps her hair to one side. "Did Aunt Walburga say anything about being able to go back?"
"She did. She said we could go once every week."
"Oh, Cissy, you're brilliant -- "
"What are you doing in Diagon Alley that's so important anyway?" Bella is frozen, her mouth slightly parted as she searches for an answer, and, in that moment, Narcissa's suspicions are confirmed: Bella is up to something dangerous and likely illegal. "Well?"
Bella averts her eyes to the floor. "Cissy, I really didn't want to tell you -- "
"Bella, I am sick of you treating me as if I were a -- a child who will do whatever you tell her to do! I don't care how much older you are. I am going to be starting my sixth year, and I am not stupid -- "
"Don't speak so loudly, or you'll wake everybody up," Bella whispers urgently.
"Then tell me. I imagine it has something to do with Rodolphus Lestrange, doesn't it, or those -- those secret groups that I hear about at Hogwarts."
A pause. "If you must know, I was meeting with Lucius Malfoy." Thus, all thoughts of pureblood conspiracies disappear, and the simple act of that name spoken into the air elicits a gasp from Narcissa. Bella watches her reaction with a measure of amusement. "Sister knows best, it seems. I always thought that, well, you two..."
"It's nothing," Narcissa says, her pulse racing.
"You don't have to lie to me, dear."
"Bella, stop." But, of course, Narcissa does not want her to stop.
"He wants to meet you as soon as you're willing to. Next week, even."
"Next week..." Her voice trails off. "I don't know if I can meet him, though."
"Are you nervous?"
"No, no, it -- well, yes, I am nervous, but I have to..." Realizing what is about to say, though, Narcissa bites her lip and shakes her head. "I can't tell you. I promised Aunt Walburga that I wouldn't tell."
Bella lays a hand on Narcissa's knee. "Cissy, Cissy, Cissy -- I understand that you care for our aunt deeply, but we are sisters. Now that Andromeda is thankfully gone, we must rely even more heavily on one another."
At the mention of their absent sibling, Narcissa grimaces. "I just have to watch Sirius, that's all, and to make sure that he does not get himself into any trouble."
"Our baby of a cousin getting himself into trouble?" Bella snorts. "As if he were intelligent enough to do that. Aunt Walburga is full of shit, isn't she?"
Narcissa widens her eyes upon hearing the remark, but she still shakes her head. Bella exhales noticeably. "All right, then. Look after Sirius, if you must, but you can meet with Lucius for just a little bit, can't you? He really likes you, Cissy, and you -- " Bella proffers a sympathetic smile " -- you've been fancying him for years, haven't you?"
--
When he is certain that Mother has gone to bed, Sirius pulls out James's letter.
Sirius,
What in Merlin's name was going on today?
James
It is late, and Sirius is tired, but he does not concede to exhaustion until he has sent a reply and threatened bodily harm against Athena unless she delivered it to him straightaway.
James,
Mother's got my cousin Narcissa following me like a dog. Dunno why she's suddenly acting like I'm going to run away or something. I'm sorry about today, I really am, but I need to get away from Cissy, one way or another. I'll try to think of something.
Sirius
--
Narcissa follows her cousin from a distance, watching as he cranes his head upward to read the spines of books beyond his reach. The sense of purpose that she drew last week from watching over Sirius is suddenly absent. Aunt Walburga worries needlessly about him, for she has found the boy to be perfectly docile and rather unlike Dromeda, who had never ceased to be a headache for the entire family. In fact, Sirius had not even seemed that displeased when she informed him that they would be going to Flourish & Blotts (Aunt Walburga had quietly reprimanded her at breakfast for allowing him to visit the joke shop last week). What maturity, she thinks, pleased that her charge has proven to be this accommodating.
"Cissy!"
Looking around at the sound of her name, Narcissa finds Bella waving toward her, and her stomach turns unpleasantly. "Sirius," she calls out, and her cousin's head turns toward her. "I'm going to speak to Bella for a moment. You won't -- you won't run far, will you?"
"No."
"Good, then I'll be back shortly, I promise." Darting through the line of customers, Narcissa finds Bella by the door. "What is it?"
"Are you ready?"
"You mean, he wants to meet me now?"
Bella places a hand on Narcissa's shoulder and pivots her toward the storefront windows. Watching her with a bemused smile is Lucius Malfoy, and it is all Narcissa can do to not cease breathing altogether.
--
Sirius throws a quick glance over his shoulder. Bella and Cissy are standing outside the store, and, as he squints, he notices a tall blond man in their company. Sirius identifies him as Lucius Malfoy, blood relation and feared Slytherin Prefect. Lucius is smiling, and he reaches for Narcissa's hand before inclining his head and placing a kiss upon it. His cousin, it seems, will be preoccupied for some time to come. Noting this, he slips away to the back of Flourish & Blotts. He opens a door marked "READING ROOM" to find a middle-aged witch sitting at a desk, a book propped open before her. She studies him for a moment, as if it were at all odd that an eleven year-old boy should ostensibly wish to enjoy his summer in a studious manner, but she soon drops her gaze and allows him to continue on his way.
Sirius looks around the room, and, there, in the back corner, is a head of black hair too distinctive to miss. Sirius walks to the armchair where James is curled up, flipping through a glossy periodical adorned with preening blond witches.
"About time, Sirius," James says coolly, but he is unable to suppress a grin as he sets his magazine aside. "Tell me, how did you give your cousin the slip?"
Thus, they begin to converse. James remarks upon Narcissa's sudden attentiveness toward Sirius, to which Sirius can offer no satisfactory rationale ("If she wasn't your cousin, mate, I'd say that she's quite good-looking," his friend remarks). Sirius asks James about his summer, and his friend speaks in rapturous tones about his family's upcoming trip to Wizarding Paris in July.
"Paris! That's brilliant, James. I don't think anyone in my family has ever been outside Britain."
"Well, I know it's brilliant. Dad has some business in Paris, I think, so he'll be bringing me and Mum along too. Oh, I almost forget that you're invited. I asked Dad if you could come with us, and he said that you would be very welcomed."
"I would really love to, but, you know, my cousins are here for the summer."
"Come on, Sirius, don't your cousins visit every year? They can't possibly like you that much."
"I know I see them every year, but this is year is different. I guess I forgot to tell you, but Andromeda -- she ran away from home a few days after term ended, and I think it's been really difficult on the family."
"She ran away? Why?"
"Dunno. She just sort of -- sort of disappeared, I guess."
"Really?" James drums his fingers against the armrest. "I'm quite sure I saw her today."
"You saw -- you saw Dromeda?"
"She's the one that looks like Bella, right, except with brown hair instead of black?"
"Yeah."
"Right, so I think I passed her as I was walking into Flourish & Blotts. I thought there was something strange about it because she was holding hands with someone -- oh, I'm pretty sure I know him too. Hufflepuff, same year as Andromeda's..." James rubs his face in his hands, and Sirius leans in, his head whirring with the burgeoning realization that perhaps things are not as they seem. "Got it! Ted Tonks. She was with Ted Tonks. Wait, Ted Tonks -- I'm not entirely certain, but he's a Muggleborn, isn't he?"
Sirius searches for an answer but finds that there is nothing he can say.
--
They are strolling down a country road, arm in arm and talking of life, love, and their boundless futures together. Beyond the brim of her hat, Lucius laughs, a gentle rolling sound that trails into the sunlight, and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, skin breathing on skin --
A sharp hiss of pain stirs Narcissa from her sleep. Around her, somebody is moving. She forces an eye open. Left arm outstretched, her other hand rubbing it, Bella is standing, silhouetted against the light. Narcissa raises her head slightly from the pillow, wondering if her sister has somehow injured herself, but, as she examines Bella's arm, all she can discern is an inky black pattern colored upon it.
"Bella?"
Her sister's arms immediately fall to her sides. "Yes?"
"Are you hurt? Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine, Cissy. You must have dreamt it."
Ah, yes, her dreams -- eager to return to them, Narcissa allows her head to return to the curve of her pillow. When Bella slips out of the room, a long black cloak obscuring her features, Narcissa is asleep again.
--
The quill and parchment have been sitting on his desk for days now, but Sirius does not touch them. He can only stare at them from a distance, pondering the contents of his would-be letter in his head. After all, what does one write to an estranged relative, determined to never again associate herself with her kin? There is much he still does not know, much that he is not sure he wants to know, but he thinks he knows this much: Dromeda is in London, or, if she is not, then she is somewhere close to London. She is with a boy named Ted Tonks now, who is significant simply because he is not a pureblood. And, if he is not a pureblood, then Aunt Druella would have never approved of their match. Therefore, the only way that Dromeda could be with this boy is if --
Is it possible, Sirius asks himself, arms wrapped around his knees as he stares at the darkened house of Muggle neighbors from his window alcove, that Dromeda was not simply a generic malcontent, as Mother had informed him, but that she left home and renounced her family for the sake of -- for the sake of something he can only vaguely comprehend as love?
Sirius slides out of the alcove and sits down at his desk for what must be the umpteenth time this evening. He picks up his quill, dips it in the inkwell, and positions it just above the parchment. Best, he thinks, to not to reveal the nature of his knowledge and speculation.
Dear Dromeda,
Bella and Cissy are here in London for the summer, but you are not. I heard yesterday, though, that you were in Diagon Alley. I was in Diagon Alley too, and I go there every week now. Do you think that I could meet you, somewhere, at some time? I am at Diagon Alley on Wednesday afternoons. Please write back, if you can.
Sirius
Blowing lightly on the ink, Sirius regards his letter. There is something missing, so he picks up his quill and adds something at the bottom.
P.S. I miss you, Dromeda.
He summons Athena, now accustomed to bearing her master's nighttime missives, and sends her into the night. His eyes linger on the path of her flight, and he is suddenly worried that she may not be able to find Dromeda. Not knowing where to reach the latter, he had not given Athena an address, and he wonders what would happen if his owl never found his recipient. But he wills himself to remain calm. His owl has never failed to deliver any letter, no matter how imprecise his directions. He must trust her.
Yawning, Sirius stretches and throws a glance at the clock. Two in the morning, he thinks with a muted surprise before crawling into bed and promptly falling asleep.
An insistent rapping on his window wakes him in the morning. Barely conscious, he nonetheless implicitly identifies the origin of the sound as Athena, and, if she is back, then that must mean the letter has been delivered.
Sirius runs to the window and pulls it open. Athena soars into the room, circling it a few times, before settling back in her cage.
"You've got something for me?" he asks her, bending down to peer at her at eye level.
Hooting softly, she extends her leg, to which a folded square of parchment has been tied. The knot is strangely unyielding, but, a few minutes of nimble tugging later, the square of parchment falls into his hand. He unfolds it and quickly skims its contents.
Sirius,
Do you have any idea at all, how dangerous it is for you to be writing to me? I imagine my name is no longer in good standing with our family, and I do not blame them. But your mother will kill you -- kill us both, if she cared to find me, which she does not -- if she hears that you have been in contact with me, even if that contact only amounts to a single short letter.
I must compliment you on your choice of owl, though. What a racket she made just now, trying to get into my and Ted's room in the dead of night. She is currently perched on my desk, watching me write this. I wouldn't be surprised if she could read this as well.
Well, you heard that I was in Diagon Alley yesterday. Who told you this? Yes, I was in Diagon Alley, and it was only a matter of time, I suppose, before somebody in this family spotted me. Had it been one of my sisters, my mother, or your parents, I am certain that I would have been relegated to the surrounding scenery. A blood traitor, they would think, does not deserve our attentions. But you wrote to me, and you want to meet me.
Two things that I must say to you, cousin: (1) This is an utterly foolish idea, and (2) please think to yourself, if only for a second, what would become of you if anyone -- Bella, Cissy, your mother -- discovered the two of us in conversation. The punishment given to a blood traitor is harsh, and I would imagine that the punishment given to a family member caught consorting with one would not be much more lenient. Please think carefully and thoroughly -- do you really want to see me?
If the answer is no, do not feel obligated to reply to this note. If the answer is yes, then I will coincidentally be at the Three Vampires in Knockturn Alley next Wednedsay. Yes, that's right, Knockturn Alley. The likelihood of anyone recognizing us will be lower there. Poor Sirius, I can imagine your mouth dropping as you read this, but don't worry -- you're a Black and will fit right in.
Andromeda
P.S. Be discreet while you are in Knockturn Alley. You'll know how to spot me.
P.P.S. Oh, all right -- I miss you too.
--
"Narcissa?" At the sound of Aunt Walburga's voice, Narcissa sets the Daily Prophet aside. Her aunt is standing in front of her, a narrow black box in her hands. "There is something I would like to give to you."
"What is it?"
Aunt Walburga steps closer. "It is a surprise. I want you to close your eyes."
Narcissa is skeptical, for she was not aware that her Black relatives placed much stock in spontaneity, but there is never a need to disobey Aunt Walburga. Clearing her throat, she does as she is told but continues to listen carefully to her aunt's movements: the scrap of cardboard against cardboard as the box is opened, the slinking of metal flittering past her ears as it settles around her neck, and, gasping, she raises her hand to touch it, the silver chilled against her skin.
"Open your eyes," her aunt says.
She does. Aunt Walburga is holding a mirror before her, and, open-mouthed, Narcissa caresses the necklace. Her fingers trace the twists in the silver, winding and sinuous, until they land on a dark ruby set against the hollow of her throat.
"My mother gave it to me as my grandmother had given it to her. Cursed as I am with sons, I am giving it to you instead."
"Aunt Walburga, I couldn't -- I can't accept this. It doesn't belong to me. You should give it to Sirius, and, when he marries, he can give it to his wife."
Her aunt pays no need to her suggestion. "I know this summer has been difficult for you, especially with Druella in the state that she is in. Blood traitor or not, Andromeda was her daughter, but the loss is -- it has been overwhelming."
Narcissa sniffles. "Do you think that she -- well, we would have come to London anyway, but do you think that she brought us here earlier so that -- so that she would not have look at me and Bella and think that there was someone missing?"
"Narcissa," she says, placing a hand under Narcissa's chin and lifting her gaze, "you must know that I think about you as if you were my child."
And Narcissa, paralyzed, can only fall into her aunt's embrace.
--
Part 3
Signing off, V.M. Bell