Reconciliation
Summary: Narcissa visits Andromeda after the war to apologize, but some things can never be forgotten.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, never will be.
The boy with the turquoise hair is ten, his cousin a mere two. He watches with hooded eyes as the blond child toddles through his room, occasionally stopping to stare at a particular object or picture before continuing to go as swiftly as his chubby legs will allow. "Don't touch that," the turquoise-haired boy warns as the toddler comes dangerously close to a glass orb on his bookshelf. The blond boy, fortunately, seems to get bored by the tall wooden structure and toddles towards the orange sheets of the ten-year-old's bed instead.
Meanwhile, downstairs, two women sit facing at each other at the kitchen table, their fingers curled around steaming cups of tea. One is blonde and the other dark-haired, but the family resemblance is all there, from the patrician features to the matching furrowed brows to the long, elegant fingers nursing the cups. "Why did you come here, Narcissa?" says the dark-haired woman, finally breaking the heavy silence. She looks up from the table, her eyes glinting. "And why would bring your grandson to me? Why, so suddenly, after all these years?" Her voice barely rises above a whisper, but the apprehension and venom and suspicion are there. She slowly takes a few sips of her tea and resumes staring at the table.
The blonde woman meets the other's gaze, her blue eyes cool and impenetrable. She reaches for a tea biscuit from the plate in the middle of the table and nibbles at it politely before answering. "I needed to make amends," she says quietly. "We are sisters, Andromeda. How could I have ever forgotten that?"
Her sister smiles wryly. "You disowned me, Narcissa. Not you, personally, but you turned your back on me, too."
"It was a long time ago," murmurs Narcissa. "We – I was so young."
The weary-looking woman crosses her arms together and stares into the distance, at the pictures hanging on the wall, at the pieces of furniture, all picked out by her and a ghost, at the stained rug in the sitting room where a girl with bubblegum pink hair once sat to play. "Why did you not seek me after the war ended?" she asks sharply. "It was an ideal time, wasn't it? A time of pardon – even for you and your family." A corner of her mouth twists upwards, sardonically. "Yet you waited until now. Teddy is ten already. Ten years since the war ended. Have you spent the entire after-war planning your apologies to me? It would surprise me."
"I have nothing to say, Andromeda, except that I am sorry," says the blonde woman haughtily, sitting up straighter in her indignation. "My condolences to your husband and daughter. They didn't deserve it."
Andromeda arches up an eyebrow. "Who does? Oh, I know, perhaps the Mudbloods and the half-breeds and whatever the purebloods are raging against now. Isn't that right?" She focuses her steely gaze on the younger woman. "Tell me honestly – why are you here? You never sought redemption. It isn't you." She laughs quietly and continues, her tone cold. "What is it, Narcissa, that caused you to speak to the sister whose very existence you denied for I don't know how many years?"
"I miss you," says Narcissa, without a hint of warmth or feeling, without even blinking.
"You miss the idea of me," says the dark-haired woman, smiling drily. "You miss having someone to talk to. You miss having someone actually care for you."
"Lucius cares for me-"
"Of course he does. And, say, how is dear Lucius?" Andromeda's smirk is a mile wide.
Narcissa reaches up and fluffs her hair before answering with her lips pressed together tightly, "Good, thank you. He sends his regards."
"You aren't telling me everything, Cissy," says the woman with the heavily lidded eyes, the ghost of a smile appearing on her lips, the only thing missing from this being a singsong tone.
The blond woman wipes at the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief and looks away, but the patches of pink appearing on her pale cheeks all but give her away. "Don't call me Cissy," she snaps. "We're past that. Now, Andromeda, what more do you want from me? Do you want an apology for all those years written on a pretty piece of parchment in the best ink and handed to you on a silver platter with a little red ribbon-"
"No. I want an explanation." Andromeda dusts an invisible speck of dirt from her pale hand and smiles at her sister. "I have all day, you know. Teddy and Scorpius will do what boys do and stay there all afternoon, maybe until dinner even." She drains her cup of tea and puts it down onto the table. "Would you like a refill?" she asks politely, glancing discreetly towards her companion. The tea is untouched, with the teabag still inside.
"No thank you…" The woman glances around her. "May I use your lavatory, wherever it is?"
"Yes. Third door to the right. Yes, yes – right there."
Andromeda sits down and buries her head into her arms when the restroom door closes behind her impromptu visitor. Typical Narcissa, she thinks, half irked, half amused. A conversation with her just leaves you spinning in circles.
Narcissa returns from the bathroom with the same pinched expression – no surprise there – and takes her seat again, not quite looking into her sister's eyes. "If you don't mind, I must collect Scorpius," she says, or rather almost mutters. "I just remembered, he has a play date with Alcmene Nott at five o'clock. Thank you for the biscuits and tea, by the way – they were splendid."
"It's nothing," says Andromeda off-handedly. She wonders idly what suddenly inspired the woman to leave. Perhaps her comments, or the thought of Lucius, or the tense atmosphere of the house. "Are you Apparating or – ?"
"Floo. If you don't mind."
"No, no." Andromeda watches quietly as her sister gathers her belongings and calls for her grandson.
"Are you ready to go, Scorpius?" the blond woman asks sharply when the four of them are all gathered in front of the fireplace. Her face is tense, her lips pinched, but there is a certain tenderness to the way she slips on the boy's cloak and gingerly tucks his shirt into his trousers.
"Yes," says the toddler. He turns around. "Bye-bye, Teddy. Bye Gweat Aunt."
Andromeda smiles. "See you soon, Scorpius. And same for you, Narcissa."
"Yes," says her sister, and she falls silent. Her cheeks become delicately pink, as if she is embarrassed at the very thought of having to see Andromeda again. "Well, we will go now. Hold on tightly, Scorpius." She grabs a fistful of Floo powder and throws it into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor!"
And they are gone. The woman and her grandson, the disowned sister and her little orphaned Metamorphagus, stand there for a few moments, still staring at the fireplace.
"Are we going to see them again, Gran?" Teddy asks.
"I don't know, dear." Andromeda smiles tiredly and squeezes his shoulder. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
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