"O God, whose mercies cannot be numbered: Accept our prayers on behalf of thy servant Bellatrix, and grant her an entrance into the land of light and joy…"

Andromeda Black Tonks sat in the chair, her arms wrapped carefully around her grandson as she absorbed the words of the vicar. No one else had bothered to come, for obvious reasons; she couldn't leave her sister to a potter's grave, no matter the atrocities she'd committed. To her it was one more funeral. Nymphadora and Remus had been buried together yesterday; while the Weasleys were burying their own today, she had her own tasks to attend to. Narcissa was incarcerated after the battle, which left her the only one to see this task through.

A chill wind blew off the coast; she held little Teddy close to her, drinking in the vicar's words, tasting the ashes of her life. It wasn't worth it. She was alive. But it wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth Ted; wasn't worth Remus and Nymphadora. But she couldn't see any other way – not then, and not now.

Would it have mattered, if she hadn't run? Would Ted – dear, sweet, Ted – have found a life if he hadn't eloped with her? She knew what her life would have been like if she hadn't run. It likely would have ended as Bellatrix's had – far too soon, in a mad dervish of spellfire.

Which left a question. Was twenty-five years of joy worth the pain at its ending? Was loving, then losing that love, worth the survival it so cruelly bought? She hurt too much to answer.

The swish of silks caught her ears; she turned to the source. Narcissa had clearly come on short notice; her robes carried the telltale signs of a color-change spell, and her makeup and hair looked hastily applied. But she had come. Apparently she'd made bail. The two sisters looked at each other for a moment, a conversation held with their eyes, before Narcissa sat down several seats away.

Eventually the vicar finished his service, politely nodded to the two women, and left. For a full minute, the only sounds that could be heard were Teddy's soft cooing and the dull roar of the wind.

Narcissa finally broke the silence. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For taking care of this."

Andromeda pondered what to say. Narcissa hadn't said a word to her since her elopement. "I had to," she finally settled on. "No one else would."

"There is that," Narcissa conceded. The wind was the only one speaking for a long moment.

Finally, Narcissa turned back to her. "Dromeda?" she asked.

Andromeda blinked. If the nicknames were back, she might as well oblige. "Yes, Cissy?"

Narcissa's brow furrowed. "Why did you leave us?"

Andromeda grimaced. "I didn't have much choice once I married Ted."

Narcissa shook her head. "I've been thinking about what went on then. Your marriage to Ted Tonks is the one thing that doesn't make sense. For your first six years in school, you were just like us – a well-respected member of the Black family. Everything you did reflected a proper daughter of the House." She pursed her lips. "Everything changed that last year. Everything. It was as though you'd thrown out every lesson Mother and Aunt Walburga taught you." She blinked. "And then that Hogsmeade weekend when you eloped…" She swallowed. "Why, Dromeda? Why the change?"

Andromeda sighed. After a moment, she gestured to the coffin in front of them. "Because I knew that this – the death of the House of Black, in its entirety – was the best that could happen to the House of Black if we followed him."

Narcissa gasped. "What? I don't understand. You mean… you knew? Even back then?" She narrowed her eyes. "You were never one for divination, Dromeda."

"It wasn't divination," Andromeda whispered, closing her eyes. "In a way, you're lucky. You turned back at the last minute. You weren't willing to sell your family to that madman. Unfortunately, our parents were nowhere near as insightful." Her eyes pointed to the coffin in front of them. "Bella didn't turn back. And now we get to bury her."

Narcissa stared back at her. "How did you know? And for how long?"

Andromeda took a deep breath. "Do you remember when Bella first joined the Dark Lord's inner circle?"

"Of course," Narcissa smiled wistfully. "Bella came home ecstatic after the night's revel, and showed off the Mark that the Dark Lord had given her, indicating her status. Mother and Father were so proud of her; Father even brought out that forty-year-old firewhiskey he had under lock and key."

"Toujours Pur," Andromeda replied. "I tried to live by those words all my life, up until that moment. I strove every day to be the perfect daughter of the House of Black. Mother and Aunt Walburga had drilled into us how to be proper pureblood daughters, and every day I worked to meet that ideal." She took in a ragged breath. "Always pure, Cissy. Always. Pure. No matter what else was going on, we hold to that." A shuddering breath escaped her lips; even after so long and so much, it surprised her how much it hurt. "And when I saw how the adults reacted to Bella's new rank within the Knights, I wondered if everyone had been hit with confundus charms."

"Why?" Narcissa asked.

"Because I knew it for what it was." Andromeda adjusted her hold on Teddy for a moment, then looked her sister in the eye. "A cattle brand."

Narcissa blinked, then nodded slowly. "True. I… I know that now. Lucius was so tortured by the mark he wore…"

"And my family was tortured and killed by people who wore the mark," Andromeda said, steel on her tongue. "Don't forget that."

"I won't," Narcissa said quietly. "But it doesn't answer the question. What did Bella's mark have to do with House Black's destruction?"

Andromeda gently rubbed Teddy's back, more for her own comfort than his. "Once we were branded – once we agreed to be branded – we placed ourselves as his servants." She growled. "And a Black – a true Black – bows to no one." Her fire deflated. "I thought everyone had gone mad. They were so eager to kiss the hem of this so-called 'Dark Lord'... the family I knew would never have debased itself so. I... I was lost. I literally had no clue what to do. I knew that if I continued the courtship with Bradford, that I would end up just like Bella – branded and enslaved."

Narcissa nodded slowly. "That's why you started dating the muggleborns."

"It was… part of it," Andromeda conceded. "I was panicking. How do you tell your whole world that it's gone completely mad?" She shook her head. "I eventually confided my fears to Uncle Alphard. He was always the most level-headed of the older generation. I hoped… if I could convince him, that he could convince Father and Uncle Orion."

Narcissa looked up to the sky. "I always wondered why Alphard supported you and Sirius. He was even cast out of the family, if posthumously, for supporting Sirius. I guess you convinced him?"

"Even Uncle Alphard couldn't work miracles," Andromeda replied. "That conversation… was one of the most painful I'd ever been through. Uncle Alphard agreed with me; he understood exactly what the Dark Lord's mark was." She swallowed hard. "However… he also told me that convincing the other adults would be impossible."

"Why?" Narcissa asked.

"He said…" Andromeda gathered her breath. "He said that some forms of madness can only be cured by time and circumstance. Father and Uncle Orion would not be swayed, he said, not until several members of our generation were lost. And by then, the rest of the House would be under the Lord's sway. When he said that… I lost hope; I thought House Black was doomed." She brightened. "And then he said something very curious."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

Andromeda adjusted her position slightly, apparently in an attempt to emulate her uncle. "He said, 'When a muggle sailing ship begins to sink, the muggles put out small boats – lifeboats – to help the survivors escape from the deathtrap. The lifeboats are almost never enough to save everyone. But… there are usually enough to save some.' He then smiled, pointed at me with his pipe, and said, 'You, my dear Andromeda, are going to be this family's lifeboat.'"

"A lifeboat?" Narcissa asked, dubiously.

"How many members of House Black survived?"

Narcissa grimaced. "The fact that House Black is currently being run by a Potter is statement enough." She sighed wistfully. "So you were to leave the family – to keep it alive?"

"It was more than that, Cissy," Andromeda replied. "There were three parts to the plan – three lifeboats, if you prefer. One is fairly obvious: I would begin dating muggleborns with the eventual goal of courting and marrying one. I dated several young men that last year..."

Narcissa chuckled softly. "I remember that year. You even got me in on the act. What was it you said to me? 'Dear sister, why should we limit ourselves to a few purebloods? The kisses from muggleborn boys can be just as sweet – and forbidden fruit is always delicious.'"

Andromeda blushed. "I was a hopeless romantic back then, wasn't I?"

"I was far worse," Narcissa admitted. "But you were even… encouraging… me…" Her eyes widened. "I was a part of the plan, wasn't I? You didn't just plan on getting a muggleborn boy for yourself. You were encouraging me to do the same thing!"

Andromeda nodded, and smiled. "My hope was that you would get hopelessly entangled in love before I had to leave. I knew what would happen to you if you married Lucius." She smiled wistfully. "I am glad to see I was wrong about that. To be honest, I thought I would bury both of you." She shook her head. "I failed in that part, of course. I suspect it was the shock of me eloping to marry Ted; you probably felt like you had to be the 'good daughter' and marry whoever Mother and Father told you to."

"Everything was so confusing after you left," Narcissa admitted. "All I knew was that you'd abandoned the family to marry this mud – this muggleborn, and that Uncle Orion had cast you out of the family, and that we were not to speak of you ever again." She tilted her head to one side. "But that wasn't the whole story, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," Andromeda admitted. "Alphard had set me up with a fund – enough for a young couple to get started, and set up a small business. I was to be the first lifeboat, so to speak. It was hoped you would be the second. As for the third…" Andromeda grinned. "In a way it worked, and in a way it didn't."

Narcissa thought for a moment before her eyes widened. "Sirius. Alphard started tutoring Sirius around that time. Court intrigue and strategy, he called it. And when Alphard died…"

"… he left Sirius a sizeable amount, even though Aunt Walburga had cast him out of the family." Andromeda shrugged. "Our parents' generation was a complete wash-out. Nothing could be saved; even Alphard knew he was doomed. But, by teaching some sense to the heir…"

"… the damage could hopefully be repaired one day." Narcissa sighed. "Diabolical. Absolutely diabolical."

"It did have some… odd side effects," Andromeda admitted. "Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor house. Apparently Alphard pointed out to him that the truly cunning would go to the house that everyone views as the stupidly brave. After all, a Gryffindor would be expected to cleave you in twain with a sword, not slip a knife in your back. Slytherins, on the other hand, were expected to take up the knife as a matter of course." She grimaced. "One other side effect. Regulus got to be the 'good' son… but eventually saw what Voldemort was in the end. Voldemort murdered him for his betrayal."

"Oh," Narcissa finally replied. "I… see. Aunt Walburga was not aware of that."

"Harry Potter found out while searching for… ways to beat the Dark Lord."

"The Horcruxes," Narcissa supplied; Andromeda looked at her in shock. "Lucius and I had a very long and pointed talk after the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' mess at Hogwarts a few years ago. It didn't take a great deal to determine what Tom Riddle's diary really was." She shook her head. "If any moment was the beginning of the end of our loyalty to the Dark Lord, it was that. To think that he would resort to those abominations…!"

Andromeda grimaced. "Everyone has their moment of revelation, I guess."

Narcissa shook her head. "Not everyone." Her eyes pointed back to the casket.

"Not everyone, indeed," Andromeda agreed. The comment seemed to suck the life out of the moment. She sighed, and held Teddy close to her.

"I'm trying to remember the last time I saw Bella sane," Narcissa finally spoke.

Andromeda rubbed a hand along Teddy's back, thinking about it for a moment. "Hogsmeade weekend, near the end of her sixth year. She and Michael Avery were still courting; she even talked him into going to Madame Puddifoot's. She came back from that weekend absolutely radiant with joy. It was at that point that she really started talking marriage with Michael."

"I remember," Narcissa smiled. "She even started thinking of baby names. She planned on Corvus if it was a boy, Alya if it was a girl." She winced. "And it was shortly thereafter that Michael was caught in a broom closet with Angela Thomas."

"It didn't help that Angela was a muggleborn," Andromeda replied. "Bella attended her first meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis a month later."

"Angela was killed a few months after graduation," Narcissa finished. "Bella chose her for her formal initiation – that night you so horribly remember from its aftermath. Bella had over a year to plan her revenge." The crack in Narcissa's voice left volumes unsaid. She shook her head, both in amazement and sadness. "From what Lucius told me, it was inspired… artistic… even beautiful in its execution. Every Death Eater initiation after that tried to outdo what Bella did. None succeeded."

Andromeda tilted her head to one side in thought. "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Michael hadn't decided to put his wand in Angela's cauldron?"

Narcissa grimaced. "Bella always had plans. Michael just made her form new plans. She eventually married Rodolphus, but that was more for appearances. Roddy needed a wife to cover up his… predilections, while her true love wasn't interested in anyone." She sighed. "Motherhood, I think, would have mellowed her a great deal. Too bad Rodolphus wasn't interested. And any attempts the Dark Lord made… well."

"That is a truly terrifying prospect," Andromeda admitted. "Bella and Voldemort having a child."

"I think their failure to have a child cost a great many people their lives," Narcissa supplied. "They tried, genuinely tried. In some ways, that may have made things worse. I am now convinced that the Dark Lord was infertile; his overuse of dark magics left him unable to father a child. But he blamed her – and she felt like it was her fault."

"And so she tried to make it up to him – by being the best Death Eater she could be," Andromeda finished. She shook her head in disgust. "What a mess."

"What a mess," Narcissa echoed. The wind howled in Andromeda's ears for several minutes, leaving her back with her thoughts.

"Dromeda?"

Andromeda blinked. "Yes, Cissy?"

"This… is probably not the best place for conversation." Narcissa looked down at her hands. "It has been long overdue for me to invite you over for tea. I suspect I will be wrapped up in legal affairs tomorrow; however, would you like to come Thursday?"

Andromeda blinked, weighing the offer. Narcissa had never invited her over, for tea or otherwise. There were always other people in the way. Now, though…

"I will see if I can find a babysitter for Teddy. I suspect Mr. Potter would be willing to watch him, if I asked."

Narcissa rose from her seat. She touched a hand to Bellatrix' coffin, said a few words to herself, then walked toward Andromeda.

She placed a hand on Andromeda's shoulder. "And… for what it's worth, sister… I am sorry – truly sorry – for what I've put you through."

Andromeda grasped hold of Narcissa's hand, and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you." She managed a weak smile. "Thursday, then?"

Narcissa nodded. "Thursday." Narcissa walked from the cemetery and out of sight.

Andromeda sighed; she carefully rose from her own position, and approached the casket. Somewhere, locked deep in the casket, lay a seventeen-year-old girl with hopes and dreams; somewhere in there was a girl who hadn't heard the name of Voldemort, who hadn't tortured and been tortured all in the name of blood purity.

She could grieve for that girl. She could mourn that girl. Saying a soft prayer, Andromeda placed a hand on her casket, and said goodbye.

Just a little idea I've been kicking around for awhile.

nightelf - 7/8/2014