A one-shot for the Photos challenge on xoxLewrahxox's forum.

A few things about this story. First, I'm picturing an Andromeda that is indeed no Gryffindor. I don't believe it can be called OOC as canon doesn't show us much about her – however, this vision might feel very wrong to people. I hope I managed to at least make it interesting for you.

Secondly, I feel that Xx starlight-moon xX deserves a little shout-out here as the italics-between-brackets thingie I used twice here is something I saw in her writing and found very meaningful and delightful. It just fit so much here, with the delusion theme... I couldn't resist! Hehe. How many shout-outs did I give you lately, lol... Love you ;)

Thirdly...hey. Enjoy?

Photos

Write a 100-word or 500-word chapter that features a photo and someone's reaction to it. It could be either the photo being taken or being looked at.

You can pick a photo on Google or imagine it, as you like.

Her birthday party is everything a little girl can ask for. She is an eight-year-old little princess, spoiled and absolutely blissful. On the photos, she beams, hugging her sisters.

No one would guess she's been thinking hard. Eight-year-old Andromeda should be mindlessly happy.

"Daddy," she asks in a serious little voice as her father helps her move the toys to her room – just the two of them, as she requested. "What exactly are Mudbloods and Muggles? Where are they from?"

(Curious, neutral.)

(She's been weighing each word.)

"Muggles, my dear," Cygnus Black answers slowly, anger colouring his deep, pleasant voice, "are filthy brats, magicless animals, who shouldn't as much as breathe the same air as we do. Mudbloods are even more disgusting and dangerous. They stole a magic of their own, no one is quite sure how."

She nods.

"I understand."

He grins.

"Don't fill your head with such serious notions yet, little Andy," he tells her. "For now, just enjoy your birthday. But I'm proud of you, my girl."

Kissing her forehead, he departs.

Andromeda stares at the beaming girl on the photographs.

Pondering.

It is Bella's birthday. Pictures show a happy family. They always do.

It is twilight, and Bella is watching the setting sun, and Andy is watching her sister.

Shadows slide upon her face. She spies for the right moment.

Now.

"Bella," she asks seriously, "what are the Death Eaters?"

Seventeen-year-old Bellatrix whirls towards her. Andromeda can read her face as an open book.

Confusion. Fury. Fear. A modicum of calmness. Trust. Yet suspicion.

"Why are you asking me?"

"I'm interested," Andy says, very calm. "Please do answer."

Bella hesitates.

"The Death Eaters," she starts slowly, "it is a group of fighters. For the cleansing and survival of our world. To annihilate the filth of Mudbloods and Muggles. We are building the wizarding world's future."

There we are, Andromeda thinks.

We.

As expected.

"How can one join?" Andy asks again, casually.

Bella jumps.

"Meeting the Dark Lord," she breathes. "Andy, you... you would be..?"

Now, back-pedaling – not too much.

"I'm not sure I want to fight," she murmurs, before adding in a surer tone, "but I certainly want to be around for the cleansing of our world."

(The very notion sickens her.)

Bella beams.

"I'm not sure I'd want you to fight," she blurts.

Reddening suddenly, she leaps to her feet.

"Let's go inside," she urges enthusiastically, "We could... I don't know. Do something together."

"Sure."

At fifteen, Andromeda deludes, and decides.

"You're always so calm," he says, "so cool."

He breathes.

Deeply.

"So cold."

Andromeda studies her husband carefully.

Ted is no confrontational man, and he's upset.

"Come and sit by me," she asks.

He obeys.

"You see me happy, Ted. You do."

"I know you are. But your smiles. They never reach your eyes. You never seem to radiate happiness."

(She once did.)

(It was all a lie.)

"Don't watch the photos, Ted," she says. "Watch my soul. I lay it bare for you."