A.N: December first was suddenly upon me and I needed to write something festive to officially begin the holiday season. The inspiration came unbidden and here you have it. Please enjoy.
PART 1
1960
So feared and occasionally respected, no one ever asked the three sisters what traditions their most ancient and noble house maintained during the holiday season. The lucky housemates that received similar invitations were only ever aware that the family appeared in full attendance to every Pureblood gala and Christmas ball every year.
The truth was that such a house bent on all things austere and pure had little interest in the messy brightness so contrary to the name of their bloodline. As young girls, the sisters understood December to be a time of snow and ice, yet somehow brought with it warmth in the public sphere that contended fiercely with the chill that seeped through walls and bones with alarming severity.
In their home, the chill had nothing to fight with as the girls' parents expected them to keep up with their lessons with the governess, keep quiet when adults spoke, and keep their bedrooms in perfect order just like everything else.
But when they were carted outdoors, into Diagon Alley, there were fairy lights light like bright undulating snakes twinkling around everything. Splashes of deep reds and brilliant greens stood out from the dampness, seeming to scare away the cold bite in the air. Bellowing laughter, lingering hugs, striped scarves in every shade imaginable, and always the overwhelming smell of mistletoe and peppermint. Each sister privately marveled in the energy wrapping around them and no matter how the governess fought to keep them in order, the girls invariably left the Alley with baubles and trinkets, sweets and little strands of lights to smuggle back into their drafty home.
The first time they dared rally together for the season, the three huddled in the eldest's room with their illicit spoils heaped in a pile on the thick carpet uncertain what they meant to do with them.
"Now what?" the youngest one questioned after a minute of uncomfortable silence. Her plaited blonde hair reflected the flickering flames churning in the fireplace. At the tender age of five, she lifted her grey gaze to her two older sisters for guidance.
The two felt their sister's expectant gaze upon them and shared a glance that communicated their own uncertainties. But they had these treasures and it wouldn't succeed if they simply shoved them away to forget about. If they'd been bold enough to acquire these things for themselves, they must be strong enough to put them to good use despite the unknown quantities that were their father and mother.
"Decorate our rooms, of course," the oldest finally answered with a determination in her expression that dared her younger siblings to challenge her authority on the matter.
The middle sister, nearly a spitting image of her older counterpart, glanced from the shimmering things at her feet back to the dark and confident gaze of her older sister. Though Bellatrix had the rule of age on her side to dictate what they should do, Andromeda had the rule of knowledge that would ultimately guide their actions. None of them ever vocalised the truth, of course. The illusion of hierarchy had to be maintained.
"In secret places in our rooms," she finally stated as she lifted a small wreath from the pile and balanced it between the palms of her hands. "The back of our wardrobes or in—maybe not in our rooms at all."
As she came to this last conclusion, Andromeda looked up with the spark of an idea in her hazel brown eyes. "What if we choose an unused room on the second floor and make it our own? Use all these to make it up the way we want?"
Looking between themselves, the three sisters understood that their parents never ventured beyond the first floor, considering the second to be too airy and discomfiting. Though they made mention of disliking the girls to explore on the floor it never amounted to more than a few words and distracted glances. Certainly their mother couldn't much care so long as they kept away and remained quiet.
"No more dawdling then," Bellatrix insisted. "We mustn't get caught."
The rest of the evening was spent in a room Bellatrix chose and dictated the decoration of. At nine years of age, she knew she had to be in charge of her sisters or else they'd never learn. Andromeda was privately convinced she was actually smarter than her older sister but the first and last time she had share that particular opinion aloud, she earned a broken wrist for her trouble and a mother furious with her for ever uttering such a thing.
Still, the room became their oasis after that first night. Whenever there was nothing expected of them, Bellatrix, Andromeda, and little Narcissa traipsed up to the second floor room at the end of the corridor on the left. Candles were lit, a fire was carefully crafted between the older two, and over time they collected more items and decorations, adding more whismy and chaos to the interior that felt perfect to the girls.
When they were in that room, Bellatrix became less violent; Andromeda didn't hide behind her books; and Narcissa felt included.
Of course the peace wasn't without its own interludes.
"You have to swear you won't ever let Rodolphus up here, Bellatrix."
The fact that Andromeda used her sister's full name illustrated how serious she was in her demand. Bellatrix could only gape for a minute before jumping to her feet and planting her fists against her hips. "That's not fair! He has every right to be here just as much as you two do."
"He's not a Black. He doesn't live here. So he can't come in when he visits." Andromeda refused to shout even though Bellatrix had no such concern.
"I could very well toss you both out of here by your hair and never let you back in. Maybe I'll make it for just me and Rodolphus!"
"Rodolphus and me," Andromeda automatically muttered. She regretted it a moment later when her sister's foot came swinging into her side, knocking the air from her lungs. With a deep grimace of pain, she ran her fingers over her ribs, well-versed at the age of seven at checking for broken bones.
"Stop it!" Narcissa whined, standing on her short legs and waving her hands in the air between the two as they glared at one another. "Stop. Please!"
Rather than listen to the blonde's pleas, Andromeda saw an opportunity and turned on the youngest with a severe gaze. "Cissy, do you really want a stuffy little boy ruining our secret place? It's not like he'll play with us like he plays with Bells."
As she said it, Andromeda knew it wasn't strictly true. Rodolphus always did a fair job at paying as much attention to her and Narcissa as he did to Bellatrix, but she wasn't above using the manipulation on her sister in order to get her to argue on her side. Andromeda felt the icy glare Bellatrix trained on her but she steamed forward, only having eyes for her little sister.
"This is supposed to be a room just for us three. If we let Rod in here, it won't be the same right?" Andromeda could see the five year old's thoughts whirling as quickly as they could to grasp her sister's reasoning. "And if we let Rod in, then we'd have to let Bastan in too and then it would all far apart."
Narcissa glanced between Andromeda and Bellatrix, the furrow in her brow screwing up her perfect features as she tried to determine just who to be more afraid of in that moment. But the look on Bellatrix's face began to shift as well and when Andromeda risked glancing at her older sister and seeing that her words might be having a great affect than she intended, she decided to drive the point home.
"If the boys visit and we let them up here, they'd surely make the parents suspicious of our absence and lead them all here."
Andromeda knew she had them both by the matching expressions on their faces. It didn't need to be said what would happen if their mother came upon this place. She had shared her disdain for the festive spirits of the winter solstice enough times to make them all aware just how strongly she would disapprove of their garishly festooned masterpiece. If the Lestranges were in tow in the moment of discovery, the punishment would be doubly severe for embarrassing their mother in front of guests.
The clarity with which each sister understood and envisioned the possibility was a testament to how well they understood and loathed their mother's temperament. The subject was never debated again.