Friday 27 September, morning. Andromeda sends an owl to her husband
More owl writing. Andromeda's beginning to discover why Ted dislikes the activity so much. It shouldn't be a burden to write to her husband, but when the things she has to tell him are so difficult and so likely to make him worry, it is.
Darling Ted,
I'm sorry that I haven't written since Tuesday. Not that that's terribly long in the scheme of things, but I miss you terribly and want to keep in touch in every way possible. But the past few days have been rather trying and difficult, and every time I've sat down to write I haven't been able to find the words.
She glances across at the overflowing wastepaper basket again.
I don't know if the papers where you are have reported it, but my sister Bellatrix died this week. The circumstances were rather horrible; she gatecrashed a funeral and the Aurors tried to apprehend her. When they cast a stupefy on her, she cracked her skull on a headstone as she went down and was dead before they could get her to a Healer.
I know how you felt about her, and probably you're right to feel that way. But there are complications about her death that I don't feel able to go into in an owl, and I very much wish that you were here so that I could talk about them to you in person. Do you know yet whether you'll be home for the weekend? I keep hoping that the fact that I've not had an owl from you yet means that you hope you'll be back before any letter will.
And she very much hopes that it doesn't just mean that he's still feeling negatively inclined about the whole letter writing process. Surely not, though? He's the one who's gone away this time, after all.
Ordinarily I'd suggest that I might come out to Australia and meet you there, if you'll not be back for a few more days yet, but things are rather crazy around here right now, so perhaps I shouldn't. But let me know if you'd like me to come, because I'd do it in a heartbeat, even if it's only for a day. And please let me know as soon as you have an idea when you'll be back.
I went to see Narcissa yesterday; I felt though I ought to under the circumstances. I'm horribly afraid you won't approve of me doing it, but I talked to Dora - and Sirius too, but she can't mention that in a letter - first and presented the arguments for and against it, so it wasn't just me going off at half-cock. She didn't much like the idea either, but still - it needed to be done. And Narcissa told me some things too, that made the visit worth my time. Not pleasant things, perhaps, but things it would be as well for us to be aware of.
Narcissa's not looking well, or at least she looks extremely healthy in the face, but her body is just skin and bone. That's nothing to do with Bellatrix though; I fear she's having problems with the baby. But she's desperately upset over Bellatrix's death, half crazy with grief and fear that the Ministry may hold on to the body and she may not even be able to give our sister a decent burial.
And I'd wish that for Bellatrix too, for all her sins. We gradually fell out in our teens, and as adults I guess we were pretty much enemies, but I loved her very dearly when I was little, before I went away to school. And so I've agreed to try and talk to someone at the Ministry, find out what the situation actually is. And I'll probably be seeing Dora again tonight, so she may have some sensible suggestions on the subject too. I promise that I'll let myself be guided by what she has to say, and won't do anything silly out of what you'd consider to be misplaced grief.
Because I am sad about it, even though I've known that this day could come for a very long time now, and had thought I was even prepared for it. The worst bit, in some ways, is that there's also a secret feeling of relief. I'd been scared for so many years about who she might kill, and now - I don't need to feel guilty or afraid on the behalf of unknown victims any more. I always felt a sense of obligation to them because she was my sister, and I felt that I'd failed in some way; that there ought to have been something I could do to prevent it.
There may be a hitch about the trip to Greece. It turns out that Narcissa is acquainted with my client, and she told me a few things that give me grave reservations about him. Again though, I don't think I should go into detail in an owl, but let's just leave it that he moves in a very different circle of acquaintance to you or I. And according to Narcissa, one of them is a certain person whose letters we recently had the opportunity to peruse. He appears to have seen some of my correspondence to my client, which I confess leaves me feeling somewhat unsettled.
I hate to tell you all this when you're so far away and not in a position to help or do anything about it. But I'll be seeing Dora tonight, and I'll make sure that she knows about it all too. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine.
All the kisses that an owl can carry to you, and I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Andy
The letter finally written, she takes it off to be conveyed by a long distance post owl, and then apparates to Dufftown. There's something she'd promised Sirius she'd do, after all.
Darling Ted,
I'm sorry that I haven't written since Tuesday. Not that that's terribly long in the scheme of things, but I miss you terribly and want to keep in touch in every way possible. But the past few days have been rather trying and difficult, and every time I've sat down to write I haven't been able to find the words.
She glances across at the overflowing wastepaper basket again.
I don't know if the papers where you are have reported it, but my sister Bellatrix died this week. The circumstances were rather horrible; she gatecrashed a funeral and the Aurors tried to apprehend her. When they cast a stupefy on her, she cracked her skull on a headstone as she went down and was dead before they could get her to a Healer.
I know how you felt about her, and probably you're right to feel that way. But there are complications about her death that I don't feel able to go into in an owl, and I very much wish that you were here so that I could talk about them to you in person. Do you know yet whether you'll be home for the weekend? I keep hoping that the fact that I've not had an owl from you yet means that you hope you'll be back before any letter will.
And she very much hopes that it doesn't just mean that he's still feeling negatively inclined about the whole letter writing process. Surely not, though? He's the one who's gone away this time, after all.
Ordinarily I'd suggest that I might come out to Australia and meet you there, if you'll not be back for a few more days yet, but things are rather crazy around here right now, so perhaps I shouldn't. But let me know if you'd like me to come, because I'd do it in a heartbeat, even if it's only for a day. And please let me know as soon as you have an idea when you'll be back.
I went to see Narcissa yesterday; I felt though I ought to under the circumstances. I'm horribly afraid you won't approve of me doing it, but I talked to Dora - and Sirius too, but she can't mention that in a letter - first and presented the arguments for and against it, so it wasn't just me going off at half-cock. She didn't much like the idea either, but still - it needed to be done. And Narcissa told me some things too, that made the visit worth my time. Not pleasant things, perhaps, but things it would be as well for us to be aware of.
Narcissa's not looking well, or at least she looks extremely healthy in the face, but her body is just skin and bone. That's nothing to do with Bellatrix though; I fear she's having problems with the baby. But she's desperately upset over Bellatrix's death, half crazy with grief and fear that the Ministry may hold on to the body and she may not even be able to give our sister a decent burial.
And I'd wish that for Bellatrix too, for all her sins. We gradually fell out in our teens, and as adults I guess we were pretty much enemies, but I loved her very dearly when I was little, before I went away to school. And so I've agreed to try and talk to someone at the Ministry, find out what the situation actually is. And I'll probably be seeing Dora again tonight, so she may have some sensible suggestions on the subject too. I promise that I'll let myself be guided by what she has to say, and won't do anything silly out of what you'd consider to be misplaced grief.
Because I am sad about it, even though I've known that this day could come for a very long time now, and had thought I was even prepared for it. The worst bit, in some ways, is that there's also a secret feeling of relief. I'd been scared for so many years about who she might kill, and now - I don't need to feel guilty or afraid on the behalf of unknown victims any more. I always felt a sense of obligation to them because she was my sister, and I felt that I'd failed in some way; that there ought to have been something I could do to prevent it.
There may be a hitch about the trip to Greece. It turns out that Narcissa is acquainted with my client, and she told me a few things that give me grave reservations about him. Again though, I don't think I should go into detail in an owl, but let's just leave it that he moves in a very different circle of acquaintance to you or I. And according to Narcissa, one of them is a certain person whose letters we recently had the opportunity to peruse. He appears to have seen some of my correspondence to my client, which I confess leaves me feeling somewhat unsettled.
I hate to tell you all this when you're so far away and not in a position to help or do anything about it. But I'll be seeing Dora tonight, and I'll make sure that she knows about it all too. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine.
All the kisses that an owl can carry to you, and I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Andy
The letter finally written, she takes it off to be conveyed by a long distance post owl, and then apparates to Dufftown. There's something she'd promised Sirius she'd do, after all.