"You should eat something," Narcissa tells Andromeda, glancing at her pale face. Instead of replying, Andromeda asks the question that is silently hanging in the air between the two sisters.

"Why did she do it?" she speaks quietly, briefly scanning the Prophet. "She's going to get herself killed."

"I think that's why," Narcissa answers, speaking with an identical softness that 'Dromeda uses, "she's always liked risk and thrill. She's never looked forward or been interested in the role we're all meant to play."

"She's got a better chance of playing it than me," Andromeda says, her jaw stiff and set, bitterness in her voice.

"He's not that bad."

"Walden Macnair, Cissy. How is he 'not that bad'?"

"His family is… respectable."

"Anything else?" Andromeda asks sarcastically, grinning slightly at the concentrated look upon her younger sister's face.

"He's… no, I can't think of anything…"

"Bella's got Rodolphus – and by no means am I keen on the man, but he's far better than Macnair – and you'll have Lucius one day…"

"He's a Death Eater, too." She says.

"Well, at least that's one thing that they've got in common-"

"I asked her." she interrupts; a slight breath is released from her mouth, as if she's been waiting to say it.

"Asked her what?"

"What she did to get in so quickly."

"And?"

Narcissa bites her lip, before withdrawing a piece of parchment from inside her robes.

She places the note inside Andromeda's hand gently.

Cissy,

I doubted you'd leave the question unasked.

I didn't.

He started training me in my fifth year.

Bella

"In her fifth year," repeats Andromeda, unsure of what to say.

"I know." Narcissa says, a small tear trickling down her cheek. "He's got her changed forever now."

"She'll never be able to turn back, will she?"

"No."