Written: 30.07.2008

Characters: Andromeda Black, Narcissa Black, Bellatrix Black, with cameos from Ted Tonks and Evan Rosier.

Rating: PG. No nasty business; a bit of hinting at sex and death, but not a whole lot of anything, really.

Word Count: 2666

Notes: The first piece of fanfiction I've written in at least a year; this is what happens when I loose the internet for a few weeks. Sketching around the edges of the ideas I have regarding the Black sisters and their relationship and development. This briefly skirts over the details of a storyline that is part of a much larger sequence that will probably always remain in my head, but hey. I know what happens. Maybe one day I'll write it up and you can see the whole thing my way.

It's a bit messy tense wise. I was trying to be clever with perspectives and tenses, and I think I may have failed a little. It contains several overly convoluted sentences (as do all my stories), and as per usual I've abused semi-colons and dashes. It's far from perfect, but right now I'm trying to get back into writing mode – Andromeda's voice doesn't sound exactly as it does in my head, and the dynamic between the three sisters isn't quite developed, but it's a start. Enjoy.


When Andromeda is very young, she is jealous of her younger sister. It is not her flaxen curls or her perfect face, nor the attention lavished upon her by mother and any other who entered the door; no, it is her name. Why should Narcissa, already so very different to her sisters with her light hair and lighter skin, her Rosier grace and barely a trace of Black about her, be permitted a name so different to theirs? Even the new cousins are named for stars, after all, so it made little sense to the mind of an eight-year-old. She poses the question, complete with a list of messily scribbled suggestions full of back-to-front letters to her father on a Sunday in January. It is their day, Sunday; in the week, he belongs to the ministry and to Bellatrix and on Saturday to mother, but on a Sunday he is entirely Andromeda's. She is not his hope for a higher place in the coming society – that will be Bella's role as the fighter and Cissy's as the socialite – but in Andromeda he sees the most of himself. The same quiet, burning ambition, the same watching eyes. She is more intelligent than her sisters, and that is why he treasures her, even though he cannot see her future as he sees theirs. He tells her that day that he named them for what they are and what they will become, and that Narcissa is not a star. Andromeda puzzles over this until he asks her to show him what she has learned this week, and then the thought and the frown is lost in a stream of broken Latin.

It takes near seven years for Andromeda to remember the exchange, and when she does so it is with little understanding. She is sat at the table in the Great Hall, with Bella preaching somewhere to her right and Cissy holding court somewhere to her left, and she remembers it as she gloomily stares down at her Astronomy homework and she smiles. At first, it is a fond smile of a forgotten piece of childhood; then, it turns to something close to comprehension. She does not understand fully yet – she will not for a long time, when all she now holds dear has been torn apart by war and death – but she is closer to it than she was before. The old curiosity that was partially quenched by education and Slytherin sparks a little inside her, and she endeavours to pursue the problem when she has time. Her father always encouraged her to do that – to chase down the lead and never let go. But, as is always the case with fifteen-year-old girls, she soon loses the thread in a hurricane of classes and first kisses and news.

The thought returns soon – too soon, almost – that summer, with the announcement of Bellatrix's engagement and the party that follows. Andromeda has never seen her sister allow herself to be treat as an object so; she has always been so strong, so resilient to the pressure of those who could never have a chance at controlling her, yet she allows Rodolphus to parade her around on his arm as if she were a canary. Andromeda does not like Rodolphus, not least because he is stealing her sister. His brother, Rabastan, is in her year at Hogwarts and he has always disturbed her a little; Rodolphus has the same dark look in his eyes. She decides on that day, as she watches her sister being treated like a show dog, that she does not trust the Lestrange brothers. She does not falter in her judgement when her mother starts to hint at the possibility of a dual alliance with the family, and resolves to find a way to shut down that line of thought as quickly as possible. It is not hard to distract her mother from the idea for the moment, as Cissy arrives with her usual impeccable timing, gushing about Lucius Malfoy and the shawl he has bought her.

Later that night, Andromeda pauses in her sketchy plan making to suffer through a brief, irrelevant revelation. The idea that Narcissa could not be a star has eluded her before, but now she understands why she cannot be. It is not her beauty – she is more beautiful than Bellatrix or Andromeda by far – and nor is it her lack of fire, for anyone who has been on the wrong side of Narcissa knows that she is every bit as strong as her sisters. Bellatrix looked so out of place tonight because she looked as Narcissa did, allowing herself to be shown off to the world, dominated by another force. Andromeda knows that neither of her sisters is easily dominated, but she also knows that Narcissa will pretend to be where Bellatrix will not, and there lies the difference. Narcissa is like the flower of her name – she is beautiful and delicate, designed to be worn at the breast, a decoration that works its way close to your heart with its grace and charm. But she is poisonous in her beauty, with her intelligence buried deep below layers of perfume and glamour charms and her drive hidden behind a socialite's eloquence. She is not being courted by Luicus Malfoy – she is doing no more than parade a match that suits her in front of their parents, manipulating them into arranging a marriage that fits her. Andromeda knows Lucius well, and he is every bit as manipulative as her little sister. Her lips quirk into a smile as she begins to have some inclination of their situation; it would not surprise her if the pair have set a deal.

That idea – of deal setting and subverting rather than fighting – is what leads to Andromeda's next movement. She has always presented herself as the perfect pureblood in ways her sisters never did – chaste, innocent and never a subject of rumours and that is why it comes as such a surprise to everyone that she is caught in the broom closet with Evan Rosier in the first term of her sixth year. Bellatrix sends her a letter congratulating her on the performance, but Narcissa does not quite believe it. That doesn't matter; Andromeda knows her secret now, and Cissy has never been a tattle-tale. As she grips Evan's hand for the next two months she chooses to ignore the fact that she this will never work, that it is a halting tactic rather than a solution. They are both seventeen and when they return from Christmas break they are betrothed, but that does not scare Andromeda. She does not want to get married to someone who her parents have picked out for her, and that is why she picked Evan out herself; they are friends, and they both know that this saves them from other engagements. He understands that she fears what her mother has planned for her just as she knows that he is on edge waiting for his father to find out that he is having an affair with a Ravenclaw boy, and they find solidarity in that knowledge.

Later that year, when Andromeda receives a letter from Bella – the first written with the mark upon her arm – that Andromeda first begins to imagine her sister as a star. She is at the windowseat with Evan's arm around her shoulder, and as she reads her heart quakes a little. Bellatrix is like a star in many ways, some more obvious than others. It is easy to see that they are alike in nature – both beautiful, both haughty, a distant, unattainable thing that few come close to. In temperament, too; both are great flaming balls of something, as anyone who has received the sharp end of Bella's tongue will know. But that is only the beginning of the correlation. Bellatrix, like her beloved star, is trapped in a net, ever a member of the night sky. She is not like Narcissa's flower which adapts, it's roots sinking deep when it finds the nurturing soil and it's petals only opening for those who will aid it – no, Bella's star sits in it's lonely night sky with no chance at change or thought. Andromeda has always envied Bella and her outspoken nature, her obvious strength, so it comes as a surprise to feel pity for her. Bella, with all her intelligence, cannot see past what she has been taught to see, blinded by her own star-light, and that is paralysing. As she turns to look at the clouded sky, not a star in sight, Andromeda almost wishes that she, too, had been named for a flower.

As sixth year turns to seventh, Andromeda tried to look past what that does or doesn't mean for herself. She is not Bella by any stretch of the imagination, but she is no Narcissa either, and that terrifies her. Evan laughs at her when they find a boggart in his house that summer and it becomes a star, but her panicked explanation has him curious. He laughs again and tells her not to worry about it, jokes that she doesn't have to be a star if she doesn't want to be, and for a while she believes him. Evan is good like that; he distracts easily, with a soft wit and a quick diversion. He is like Andromeda in that he doesn't like the future that has been painted for him; it is unfortunate that she has not yet realised that the parts she hates of hers are the parts he crave in his. In three years time when his victims begin to roll into St. Mungo's she understands, but for now he is simply a comrade in arms. The rest of summer passes quickly and they continue to play the perfect couple, a façade that Andromeda has almost become to believe herself, and it is only when they return to Hogwarts and Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor that she remembers that soon she will need to find her solution.

When the first howler comes, Andromeda winces for her cousin. It is not fair on him – he's always been the rebellious sort, and anyone who'd seen him jump out of that tree when he was five should have marked him as a Gryffindor – and Aunt Walburga will only alienate him this way. She's not sure Slytherin could have coped with Sirius anyway. Three days later when the howler arrives from Bella – Andromeda recognises the intake of breath the letter gives off when it opens – she attempts to bury her head in the newspaper as the hall is silenced by her sister's words. That is why she misses Ted Tonks directing a curse toward the screaming parchment – instead, she only hears it explode halfway through the third 'mudblood' and looks over her paper to see the Ravenclaw boy with his wand pointed directly at piece of air the howler had once occupied. Sirius and his friends are staring open mouthed, and most of the hall has turned its attention to the boy. As Ted turns and sits, he catches Andromeda's eye; she cannot help but blush slightly when he raises his eyebrow. She never thought she'd be embarrassed by her family.

Being paired with Ted in potions comes as something of a refreshment for Andromeda. She attempts to ignore Evan's narrowed eyes at the back of the classroom – he worries that she's spending too much time with the mudblood and that her family won't like it – and instead throws herself into debate with the boy. She has never been permitted to question before, never had the chance to, but even as she throws out the reams of pureblood doctrine she cannot help but fault them. Some clearly make no sense – the idea of mudbloods being weak is ridiculous; she has never managed to explode a howler before, but Ted managed it – and she certainly doesn't believe in arranged marriage. But some things are too deeply ingrained, too long taught, and as they spar with words she cannot help but regret the disappointment in Ted's eyes. It is only when they begin to use their tongues to spar in a way that doesn't involve words that she retreats a little, and as his fingers absently stroke her side under the blanket that is their only clothing that night under the stars, she truly listens for the first time.

For a month, it is perfect – or near there, anyway. She is lucky that Evan is so distracted by NEWTs and Narcissa by OWLs – they both suspect her, she can see in their eyes, but they have precious little time to follow her around. She thinks – or hopes, perhaps – that they have no inclination either; they are both intelligent enough to figure out what she is up to, and a part of her believes that they are simply letting her be. Still, even they cannot ignore the situation when Marinella Zabini charges into the Slytherin common room after their last NEWT exam after catching Andromeda in Ted's arms. It is a mystery as to how their father found out so quickly, but by the time Narcissa and Evan find Andromeda she is pale, her white fingers gripping a piece of parchment that tells her exactly what will happen in three days time when the Hogwarts Express returns her home. She cannot read their eyes – disappointment and fear and pity are mingled too closely, with something close to sadness in Narcissa's eyes and some sort of tarnished pride in Evan's – but Andromeda knows that everything is over. Evan's family will not allow him to remain betrothed to her after this, and her mother will have her married within the month. She will take her place in the tapestry of stars that is the Black family, and that will be that.

While she is packing her case – slowly, with reddened eyes as she realises everything she will never have – a noise causes her to still. She turns shortly afterwards, barely daring to hope, to find nothing more than a book placed upon her night stand. It is one of Evan's – she's seen it a million times – and a piece of her tears a little further when she realises this is goodbye. A letter sticks out from it, and as she flicks open the book to remove it her eyes flicker to the page. The letter is simply informing Evan of his father's decision to cancel the engagement, but that is not what causes a frown to crease Andromeda's brow. She reads the line for the third time, and as she does so she cannot help but wonder if her father has some of the seer's blood the Black line is known for running through his veins. He has his star and his flower, and now he has his woman chained. As her vision blurs and her body begins to shake, she lets the book fall from her hands – the story will not be read now – and it is with a rage that is rarely seen that she tears her Black family locket from her breast and throws it across the room. She stares at it for a long time, a trembling mass of sorrow and anger and fear, indecisive until the last, before she goes and picks it up. She had always loved it for its shape; where Bella's was classic in its nature, and Cissy's took the form of a heart, Andromeda always wore a key around her neck. She does not take it with her in the end, instead leaving it upon Narcissa's bedside table in the depths of the night. Her sister is not surprised to find it and the accompanying note the next morning, anymore than she is surprised to find herself returning home alone.

As Andromeda slips her key into the door of her new flat the next morning, she allows a small smile to touch her lips.