Chapter One: The Old Library

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. Those belong to J.K. Rowling. I am simply basing my stories off of the world she created. No copyright infringement is intended.

The epitome of propriety is upholding ones values. Blood purity is the highest of these values, and is to be considered first in all situations. Purity is the one true mark of a Pureblood.

Floorboards creaked as Andromeda made her way through the old library. The room was a great cavern, with arched beams supporting the plastered ceiling. Black stained wood dominated the space, as it made up the floors and the shelves that towered over the five year old. Old, leather bound books were lined up in perfect rows on the ornate shelves, held up by onyx caved bookends. Some of these bookends were simple, just a geometric rectangle block. Others were detailed sculptures of magical creatures. Andromeda's favorite one was a black raven mounted on a rectangular pedestal.

Cobwebs hung in the corners of the bookcases, a fine layer of dust beginning to settle over most of the contents in the room. The rugs were worn. Any color that once had been woven into the damask patterns slowly rubbed away by years of people walking over them.

Andromeda leaned over to inspect one of these rugs. Dropping to her knees, she set the small lantern she carried on top of the weave. Dirt was worn into the very fibers of the carpeting. Dust from it rose into the air at the slightest disturbance, then fell back into the rug. It had not been cleaned in a considerable amount of time.

No one was permitted to enter the ancient library. A few times in her short life, Andromeda had seen her father go into the library, but she could tell that he didn't like to do so. He always had this hurried sort of gait when he entered and exited the sentient room. He always frowned when he went to the old library. Before his children were born, he had built an extension to the already massive manor house to add an equally massive library. While the two rooms were decorated similarly, the other one was significantly cleaner.

Clad only in her white nightgown and worn socks, Andromeda stood out against the darkness of the room. She wished for her nighttime excursion to remain secret, and hoped that she wouldn't be noticed.

Her curiosity had increased to such a degree that she could no longer resist the temptation to enter the forbidden library. She wouldn't have been able to get away with sneaking into the old library during the day, where she was constantly under the watchful eyes of her nannies and mother. Her best chance at gaining entrance was under the cover and safety of the night, when the occupants of the house were asleep.

Examining the library, she hadn't been able to find anything in it that justified her banishment from the room. It was eerie in the dark, covered in cobwebs and dust. The room was entirely designed of darker tones, but so was the rest of the manor house. It just needed a proper cleaning.

Still kneeling on the rug, Andromeda leaned over and pulled the nearest book off of a shelf. Its leather binding was cool to the touch, and smooth under the pad of her fingertips. She couldn't read the inscription, but she could feel the indentations where the letters were carved out under her index finger.

She shifted her position on the floor, so she could comfortably look at the book. Crisscrossing her legs, she was able to set the book in her lap. In this position, she could also better see the book without having to move the lantern again. Mother had always told her again and again to be careful with the lanterns, so she would not set anything on fire.

The book had decorative golden leaf inlay running around the cover. The letters were also golden, shimmering in the dim light. Its pages were thin, and crinkly. They wrinkled when she ran her fingers over it, bending slightly over at the corners. These pages were only interesting for a moment, as they contained no pictures within it. Soon enough, the book was quickly replaced on the shelf it came from, haphazardly shoved into the nearest break in the books the five year old could find.

Andromeda looked around her. Her lantern was too dim to see too much, but as far as she could tell there were no books with pictures in that aisle. As she pulled out a few more books, she proved her theory correct. The little girl didn't bother to put these ones away, as they were such a disappointment. Why would someone have a book with no pictures, and just boring squiggles?

The girl had nearly given up on all hope that she would find an interesting book in the room at all until the happened upon a desk. Several books were left upon its surface, some stacked and some sitting by their self on top of the ebony wood.

She crawled onto the cushioned chair and pulled the book nearest to her to her chest. Its cover was different from the rest she had seen that night. Instead of simply just having words on its cover, the book had an intricate pattern and depiction of human carved into the leather. The expressions on these people's faces were frightened, scared, and upset. One of them had a grotesquely wrinkled face with tears gathering underneath the bags under her eyes.

Frowning, Andromeda opened the cover open. The girl's eyes widened at the picture for but a moment before she let out a panicked scream. She slammed the book away from. It skid across the black desk and knocked a stack down before plummeting to the dusty rug. The little girl didn't see that happen, though, she just heard a crash from behind her. It echoed, the sound amplified by the library's vaulted ceiling.

With tears filling her eyes, she ran as quickly out of the room as she could. She was close to the entrance when a figure came towards her. She ran towards it, rubbing at her eyes.

"Child!" Her father's voice boomed from the door way. "Come here now!" His arms were crossed. He was not a large man, but tall and thin. Despite this, he had the ability to seem larger than life if he chose to. This was invaluable quality to have in someone who worked in the ministry as a lawyer. This trait was less desirable when dealing with his children.

Andromeda ran, flinging herself to embrace her father's legs. She sobbed into his pajama bottoms, her small frame shaking in fear. Her five year old mind worked to put the proper words to describe her experience, and failed miserably. A shudder ran through her small body as she began a new wave of jerking sobs.

Cygnus Black was shaking as well. Not from fear, but from rage.

"I told you not to come in here," he snarled. "I specifically instructed you to not enter this room, you disobeyed me." He made no move to comfort the girl, and cringed a bit from the contact.

"I'm sorry!" The five year old sobbed. "I promise I won't ever do it again. I will be a good girl from now on, I swear!" She moved one of her hands away to wipe her nose with her sleeve. She looked up at her father with tear filled eyes. She repeated "I will be a good girl," again in a whisper.

Cygnus Black was not impressed. Her father clasped his hand on her shoulder before roughly jerking her away from him. "Would Bellatrix have disobeyed me?" He looked down at her with scrutiny, much like he would when cross examining a witness in a court room

"N-no!"

"Would Narcissa have disobeyed me?"

"No!" The little girl squeaked as she looked down at her feet. The once white socks were now dirtied by the dust. What was once white cotton was greying away, like the rest of the room.

"Look at a person when they are speaking to you!" He commanded, rolling his eyes in frustration. "If your sisters wouldn't have disobeyed, then why have you?"

"I wanted to see what was in here," Andromeda just barely raised her eyes.

"What did you see?"

The girl began to sob again, burying her face into her now grubby hands. "There was a book, and it had pictures."

"What were the pictures?"

"There was a man, and there was a lady, and a baby, and a horse with a long nose," she trailed off, cringing at what she saw in the book. The girl wanted to forget about, forget that it even existed.

"And?" His fingertips began to impatiently tap against the skin of his arm. Her father raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

"And there was a knife and there was a lot of red," Andromeda tried her best not to cry anymore. She cried a lot that night, and only babies cried a lot. She didn't want to be a baby brat, as Bellatrix would say. Narcissa was the baby. Andromeda wasn't anymore. "The baby in the book had black raven eyes, and the lady was being pulled apart and the horse was dead. The man was wearing robes and had a wand, and he wasn't hurt."

"Stupid girl," Her father looked disgusted with her. "If you didn't want to see such things, you shouldn't have disobeyed me. Go to your room, I will think of an appropriate punishment for you in the morning." He pointed towards the staircase.

Andromeda had no choice but to make her way back to her room. She rubbed at her eyes and commanded herself not to cry anymore. She wasn't a baby, she was a big girl. Big girls don't cry over books.

A/N: I have had this idea for a while. Basically, it will be a series of drabble/shorts/oneshots about the Black sisters, and the values they were raised to believe. Some of these are going to be taken from Victorian etiquette books, and others I am going to be coming up with as I go.

For those of you who are following my story Golden, I am still working on that! Black Family Values isn't going to be a massive story, so Golden is still my main priority. For those of you who haven't read Golden, you should check it out. Hint hint :)

Whose POV should I do next? Bellatrix, Narcissa, Sirius… The list goes on.