DISCLAIMER: Don't own Harry Potter.
I'm not sure if I like this or not.
On one hand, Narcissa is Mum's sister. She's hurting; her son is running for his life and her husband is in Azkaban (not that both of them don't deserve to be in their respective positions). And I would like to know more of my family.
On the other hand, she's one of those people who thinks Muggle-borns like Dad are scum. She's married to a Death Eater and her other sister is Bellatrix Lestrange. I didn't miss the anger in Mum's eyes when she showed up. My mum never gets mad at anyone, at least not for very long. If she still felt that way after so many years….
Ah well. I'm really tired and it doesn't look like she's going to move any time soon. So I make my way over to the couch and flop down, ignoring my aunt. She doesn't ignore me.
"Tonks, what are you doing?" Oh, yeah, another reason to have her here: She actually does what I want her to and calls me by my surname. None of this "Nymphadora" crap.
"Sleeping. I crash here every night so if the likes of dear Aunt Bella come invading, I'm at the front line. Y'know, Auror and all." I yawn widely, ignoring how she flinches. Hell if I care. "You're in my bed."
She doesn't know what to say to that. I crack a grin. "Relax, this isn't exactly Malfoy Manor. You don't have to be all uppity here. Hey, what do you get if you cross a werewolf with a normal guy?"
"You get a man who's hairy all over so you can't tell where the important places are."
My mouth drops open as I scramble to sit up. "How did you know—?"
"Bella told Andy and me that joke when we were teenagers. She always used to do that kind of thing simply because we weren't supposed to." She smiles slightly, and I'm amazed at how pretty and human she looks. "Our mother would have thrown a fit."
"Mum really missed you all these years, you know. She's got this…well, here. Accio Photo." Too lazy to haul my butt off the sofa, I flick my wand in the direction of Mum's study. A second alter, a photo frame comes hurtling out and beans me in the head. I yelp, and Narcissa chuckles quietly.
"Meda did tell me you were clumsy."
"Yeah, I'm used to it." I rub my bruised skull and grab the picture, showing it to Narcissa. "See."
I've looked at that thing so many times I have it memorized. Three girls sit together in front of a big mansion. The one on the far left looks about sixteen, with long curly black hair, dark skin and dark eyes. She's scowling at the camera until a second girl, almost identical but younger with toffee-colored eyes and copper hair, throws her arms around her shoulders. Then the first girl laughs and falls over. The third is a very pretty blonde with sky-blue eyes. She looks about twelve. As the older two fall in a heap, she looks over at them and wrinkles her nose. Then her sisters grab her arm and yank her down with them.
Narcissa's hands are gentle on the photo. She blinks once, and although she tries not to show it, I see sorrow flickering in her eyes. The same eyes as the blonde in the picture. "I'd almost forgotten about this. This was the week before Bella got her Mark…"
"That's when she changed, isn't it?"
"Yes." She puts the picture down and clenches her hand around the hilt of her wand. "Then everything changed."
I still don't trust her. I still don't even like her much, really. But right now she looks just as sad and tired and worried as Mum did when Bellatrix first broke out of Azkaban, and although I hate to admit it I'm kind of worried about Draco too. That kid has no idea what he's in for. "I'm sorry." I shift and gently set a hand on her arm. She stiffens at the contact, but I pretend not to notice. "I wish I could have known her—as Bella Black, not Bellatrix Lestrange. And I wish I could know you too."
I yawn, lie back down and close my eyes. She must think I'm asleep, because a moment later I hear her murmur: "I wish you had too."