The graveyard was as familiar to Narcissa Malfoy as her own right hand. She had visited it every week for the last year, the year since her sister had died. She came not for comfort, but as a stark reminder of what could have happened to herself and her family. In truth, while Narcissa shared beliefs with Bellatrix, she had always been frightened of her older sister. Bellatrix had been psychotic, murderous and altogether too enamoured with the Dark Arts. Narcissa felt that her family had not followed this path, and because of it, they were alive and together, while Bellatrix was cold in the ground.
Today, there was a figure by Bellatrix's grave. Narcissa felt a cold chill run through her. The stone had been desecrated countless times and once, sickeningly, somebody had defecated upon it. Bellatrix may have been unpleasant in life, but Narcissa felt that she warranted some respect in death. Everyone did.
It was a female figure, clad in black robes. A pushchair was parked nearby. As Narcissa drew closer, she could hear the figure muttering. Although she was too far away to make out the words, she could hear pure hate in the voice. Narcissa felt frightened, decided to walk away. Any of Bellatrix's numerous foes would not hesitate to hex her sister into oblivion. A crack. Narcissa had crushed a twig underfoot. The figure whirled around.
For a split second Narcissa's fear became all the more intense, for it seemed that Bellatrix had burst from her grave and returned to avenge all those who had betrayed her. That would include Narcissa, for she had turned at the last and foiled the Dark Lord's plans. But it was not Bellatrix. Narcissa could barely believe her eyes.
"Andromeda!" she exclaimed. It was a sister of hers after all; one even less likely to be there than the ghost of Bellatrix.
"Narcissa," Andromeda replied coldly. "Come to mourn for your dear sister?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to spit on the grave of the bitch who murdered my daughter. I suppose you know that, though, don't you, Narcissa? I suppose you think that she was right to kill a filthy little half-blood, married to a monster." The words were sharp. Narcissa trembled and tried to think how best to explain why she was there, how she was not here out of grief, but instead as a mechanism for changing, becoming better.
"Let me talk to you, Andy," she started, using her childhood nickname. "I am here to remind myself of the choices I made. They were all wrong, until that night at Hogwarts-"
"The night my daughter was murdered?"
"It was also the night that I defied the Dark Lord. Did you know that? He asked me to check if Harry Potter was dead. He was not. He was as alive as you or I, but I lied to the Dark Lord. It could have got me killed."
"How noble! I should give you a medal. You did not think to stay away from those monsters right up till then! You married one, gave birth to one, lent out your house to them. Narcissa, this is the first time we have spoken in twenty-seven years! You made your choice then to dissociate yourself from anyone who was not part of your crowd of fanatics. Too little, too late." Tears were pouring down Andromeda's face. Narcissa could only imagine the pain her sister had been through. Losing her husband, losing her child: it was what Narcissa had feared more than anything. She reached out to place her hand on Andromeda's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Andromeda pulled back and glared at Narcissa, her eyes wild. It was strange, she now looked more like Bellatrix than she ever had before.
"Andy, please…" Narcissa trailed off. Please, what? Narcissa wanted forgiveness for the choices she had made. To be sisters again.
"You think that if you apologise it will all be alright. That I will say, 'Oh, thank you, Cissy, my darling, now let's go and have a cup of tea up at Malfoy Manor.'"
The words, the iciness attached stung Narcissa. "There is no Malfoy Manor anymore, Andy," she said softly. "It's gone, we have lost everything." Before the words were even out of her mouth, Narcissa knew that they were the wrong ones. After all, she had not lost everything: she still had Lucius and Draco.
"Poor baby Cissy," Andromeda said sarcastically, "she can no longer wear robes of finest silk and be waited on by an army of house-elves. She isn't the first lady of pureblood society anymore, all she has is her Death Eater husband and her Death Eater son." A heavy dose of bitterness. Narcissa understood why. She felt she had to make her sister see that she was not quite alone in this world.
"You will have me, if you wish! And look here in the pram, you have your little grandson." Narcissa looked into the pushchair. The child was fast asleep. He had a pleasant, chubby little face and bright blue hair. He had the Black nose: they all had it, straight and patrician. Narcissa did not see the horror in her sister's face, and continued to chatter in a manner she felt would be soothing, "he looks a bit like you. He has our nose, look."
"He is nothing like you, or like Draco, or like her! He is…" Andromeda trailed off and wept. Narcissa did not think she had ever seen her cry like this. Andromeda had always been the stronger one, protecting Narcissa from Bellatrix, stroking her hair when she cried. Narcissa watched, transfixed. She knew that if Lucius and Draco had died, she would have been like that—if anything, worse, for she could not imagine how one could breathe or eat or exist without one's family.
"Andromeda," she whispered, unsure her sister could even hear over the wracking sobs. "I am truly sorry. I wish that this had never happened."
The fit of grief slowly began to subside. Andromeda breathed deeply, and finally, in a calm, even voice asked, "Do you love Lucius Malfoy?"
"I- I do."
"And your son?"
"More than anything else in the world."
"I see." The bitterness was creeping in again. "Did you truly believe that- that- crap about purebloods being supreme and Muggle-borns merely scum?"
"No, I-"
"You're lying to me, Narcissa! You still lie like you did when you were a child, all tears and trying to look like an innocent little flower."
"I did," Narcissa admitted. "But Mother and Bella made it impossible not to believe. And then Lucius-"
"That's a load of shit and you know it!" Andromeda's harsh shout echoed about the graveyard. "I was brought up the same as you. You have nobody to blame but yourself. You may now think that you are a better person because you changed sides at the last. You made your choices though. You chose prejudice and darkness. You still have your family, while I have nothing. And you still think you deserve pity. You will never have it from me."
With that, Andromeda grabbed hold of the pushchair and Disapparated, leaving Narcissa quite alone. She knew now that she could never be forgiven for her choices.
She spat on Bellatrix's grave.