A/N: Hello, all. I am so sorry about the update delay! I promise I haven't abandoned this story -- I had a fairly rough semester in the fall in addition to some wicked writers' block on this chapter. I couldn't pin down the end conversation and it was driving me nuts. Anyway, I hope some of you are still reading. Enjoy!
*Also, to clear up possible confusion, a stone = roughly 14 pounds. When Andromeda asks Narcissa how much she weighs, the figures she mentions range from 112-126 pounds. Just so you know.
Two weeks have passed since Bellatrix's appalling rejection of Lucius. While strictly reprimanded by Mother and Father in private, she's received no other lasting punishment and has smirked openly about the incident ever since. Narcissa thinks the lack of discipline has made her sister even more insufferable than usual.
Father, meanwhile, has done his best to ensure that the real truth about her behavior remains a secret from the rest of the Pureblood families. To his credit, no one has seen or heard anything unusual from the Malfoys ever since that night.
Narcissa isn't disappointed by their absence. She's spent the fortnight busying herself in a flurry of activity; most of it dealing with the impending arrival of term. In a surprising show of trust, Narcissa's parents have allowed her and Andromeda to shop completely unaccompanied in Diagon Alley this year. Cygnus withdrew the appropriate amount of Galleons from Gringotts, per usual, but the spending of that money has fallen entirely on their shoulders.
Giving them so much leeway may have been a hasty decision. Narcissa's already been twice this week. The first trip was spent buying requisite supplies, getting fitted for new robes, etc. The second dealt with purchasing what she'd forgotten – mainly Potions ingredients – and picking up a few trinkets on the sly. Her current trip, number three, is purely for fun.
Newly armed with two large peacock-feather quills, Narcissa clutches her purchases in one hand as she and her sister walk away from Scribbulus.
"Right. Where to go next?" Andromeda asks, scanning the teeming storefronts with an expression of irritation. Narcissa rolls her eyes at the look; she knows her sister well enough to understand why she's here, and it's not to shop. Everyone in the family – even the near-deaf portrait of Great-Auntie Prewett, hanging on the third floor -- overheard Dromeda and Mother's morning row.
Loud rows between the two have occurred fairly often since the beginning of last year. The fight always starts with something as innocent as Dromeda not getting the Head Girl badge (this year's current gripe), and ends with her sister screaming about the idiocy of blindly following Black traditions. In return, Mother yells a worn lecture about upholding familial honor and magical pride. The rest of the argument is always cut off by a well-timed Silencing Charm.
Narcissa sighs heavily, trying to get rid of the recollection. Even if Dromeda is only here to avoid being inside the house, it's nice to spend a bit of time together. Merlin knows Narcissa never sees her sister during the school year; she's always studying with the Ravenclaws or performing tasks with the prefects.
Determined for today to go smoothly, she considers Andromeda's query as they walk. "I was thinking we could stop inside---"
Before Narcissa can finish her sentence, they are nearly bowled over by three boys exiting "Magical Milton's Musical Mysteries", the most recent addition to Diagon. Hogwarts rumor has it that Milton, whoever he may be, apparently sells Muggle records as well as the newest Wizard releases. Narcissa doesn't know why anyone would want to buy a Muggle record, but apparently he hasn't hurt for business.
She steadies herself on the pavement, voice icy. "Excuse me," she snaps, waiting for an apology.
One of the boys, who looks to be about Andromeda's age, turns at the sound. "Oh! Sorry about that," he gasps, "We were just…" His voice trails off as he sees who he's addressing. "Wait, you're….Narcissa, right?" He snaps his fingers as if trying to recall a difficult incantation. "Narcissa Black?"
"Yes," she says, more than a little suspicious as she attempts to place him. "And you are?"
"Ted. Ted Tonks. Pleased to meet you." He holds out a hand expectantly.
Narcissa doesn't take it. She faintly remembers him now, from school, and is fairly sure he's a Hufflepuff. But before she can formulate a response, Andromeda swoops in, catching the boy's hand in a firm grip.
"Look, Ted?" she asks dispassionately. "I apologize for Narcissa's appalling lack of manners." Narcissa shoots him a glare which suggests she has no part in this apology.
"But," Andromeda continues, "it's not without reason. We aren't exactly social butterflies. As my mother says, the Blacks have standards and procedures. Talking in the street with strangers" – she surveys the loudly colorful storefront with a half-grimace, half-smirk – "isn't one of them. So don't be too friendly."
Narcissa is annoyed when Ted grins, seemingly unfazed by the speech. No matter how amusing Dromeda's poor attempts at sarcasm are, he should at least pretend to take her words seriously.
"Blunt honesty," he replies instead, his grin widening as he meets Andromeda's gaze. "I like it. Thanks for the advance warning, I suppose?"
Andromeda rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, Ted. See you in a few days." She pulls Narcissa forcefully by the arm, steering back past Scrivenshaft's as the boys resume their discussion. Faint snatches of their conversation float towards Narcissa as she retreats:
"No, I'm telling you, the Stones have got to be wizards. How else do you explain Keith Richards?"
"Yeah, he's a Squib, at the very least—"
"Nah, I'd pin my money on Jagger -- bad Engorgement Charm--"
Being dragged by the hand makes Narcissa feel like a troublesome little girl. Visibly embarrassed, she pulls free of Andromeda's strong grasp before speaking.
"How do you know that boy?" she asks, straightening her cloak.
Andromeda shrugs. "I don't actually know him, to be honest. He's a Hufflepuff from my year; a prefect, maybe. Might even be Head Boy, now that I think about it?"
Narcissa is aghast. "He's the new Head Boy!? I thought it would be Lucius —or one of the Ravenclaws, at least!" She scoffs in disapproval. Everyone knows Hufflepuffs would rather be best friends with each student rather than discipline them appropriately.
Andromeda shrugs again. "I could be wrong. Anyway, if he's a prefect, I should prepare to see a lot more of him."
"Well, I didn't like him," Narcissa snits. "He seemed…odd."
"Just 'cause he was in the record shop?" Her sister laughs. "You're becoming quite the snob."
Narcissa scowls like a child. "I am not."
"Don't deny it," Andromeda counters. "You are. Merlin, wouldn't Mother be proud to see it." She shakes her head in pretend resignation.
Narcissa doesn't know how to reply to that declaration, so she settles for throwing a significant look towards Florean Fortescue's as they pass. "Want to stop in for a minute?" She knows Andromeda can't resist the temptation of chocolate gelato.
They choose a table in the shade and are picking out ice-cream flavors within twenty seconds of sitting down. After a minute or so of strained silence, the bowls on the table emit a quiet pop and are suddenly filled to the brim with gelato.
Andromeda grins like a Cheshire cat as she reaches for the silverware. "Oh, I love chocolate."
"I'd never know," Narcissa comments dryly. "It only looks like I'm sitting next to a half-starved Kneazle." She takes a delicate bite of vanilla as she talks, not wanting to indulge too much. "You should be careful about that sort of thing, Andromeda."
"Oh, Narcissa, how you wound me," Dromeda deadpans, crunching vigorously on a large chocolate chip.
"No, I'm serious." Narcissa says. "Mother keeps saying we all have to watch what we eat so we maintain a good weight. If we don't keep a nice figure it'll make things difficult down the road…finding a husband and such..."
Dromeda's features cloud with disapproval. "Mother told you that, specifically?"
Narcissa shrugs, suddenly uncomfortable. "Not in as many words…just said I looked a bit more stout than usual…but she was just trying to help. You know how much the bigger girls are teased at school. She doesn't want us to be the butt of everyone's jokes." The Slytherin boys still haven't stopped sniping at Lexia Nott, though she's got so much slimmer since last year. And she's even got a boyfriend now…
"What jokes?" Andromeda growls. "Narcissa, you weigh, what, eight or nine stone?"*
Horrified, Narcissa hushes her sister. "Only eight and a quarter, thank you." she whispers primly. "Mother says it'd be best if I got down to seven and a half before the year is out."
"Are you serious?" Dromeda snaps, gesturing so violently she drops her spoon. It clatters loudly and lands near the table's edge. "She has no right to dictate how much you weigh."
"Wait," Narcissa says quickly, not wanting to be the impetus of another fight, "it's all right. Don't get upset. If getting thinner makes Mother a little happier, then I can live with it."
"Narcissa, you shouldn't have to starve yourself to make her happy!"
Narcissa shoots her sister a swift warning look, the same one her mother often wears. It plainly reads: We're in public. Stop embarrassing me.
She tries to change the subject, but Andromeda is already too worked up. "You refused, right? Please tell me you stood up to her."
Narcissa avoids answering the question. "I don't want you and Mother to find anything else to fight over. And I know if she saw you eating chocolate ice-cream like this she'd probably go into fits. So just be careful around her."
Her sister's expression is stormy, but when Dromeda speaks again, her voice is kind. "Don't worry about me, little sister; I can handle myself."
Narcissa just stares into the bottom of her ice-cream dish, now filling with puddles of melted vanilla. She can't help worrying about Andromeda. Andromeda is so different to her, and difficult to understand because of it.
Andromeda is speaking again. "—shouldn't let Mother make all of your decisions. Haven't you ever wanted to do something on your own?"
Dromeda and Bella have always been closer in age and in personality. They are passionate and proud – fierce, even -- while Narcissa is shy and compliant. As a child, Narcissa always existed on the periphery of her family; she hero-worshipped Bella and desperately tried to fit in around Andromeda, which distanced her from both of them.
Even now, the two sisters have wildly different expectations for Narcissa's future. While Bella is content for her youngest sister to uphold the family name, and nothing more, Andromeda is unsatisfied. Just like today, she's always challenging and demanding and pushing.
She wishes she and Dromeda could have a better relationship.
They've found each other harder and harder to understand as they've aged. Dromeda's changed more than anyone since she's been at Hogwarts. And although the sisters are obviously still family, Narcissa fears soon they'll feel like strangers.
"Cissy, are you even listening to me?" Dromeda asks, startling Narcissa back into the present.
"Oh, er, of course," she mumbles in reply, trying to shake off her reluctance. She's so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn't even think to correct the use of her old nickname.
As they move from the table, readying to leave, Andromeda places a hand on her sister's shoulder. Her voice is quiet, and more solemn than Narcissa has ever heard it.
"I want to say something else before we go," Andromeda murmurs.
"Dromeda," Narcissa shakes her head, making a dismissive gesture, "That's not necessary, you just got worked up over a little request—"
Andromeda holds up her other hand. "Please. I know we're very different people. I know sometimes it makes you…unhappy that I go against Mother all the time, but I just—"
"But it doesn't—I don't—"
"Look, Narcissa." Her sister's words have a strange finality to them. "If you've never listened to a word I've said before this, then please listen to me now. You have to fight for your own happiness. Decide what makes you happy, what gives you joy, and then act on those things. Don't let Mother or anyone else in our family push you around for the rest of your life. Try to be yourself."
With the strange moment hanging between them, Dromeda gives a small half-smile to her sister before she steps away. "You all right?"
Torn between feeling confused and annoyed at her sister's advice, Narcissa doesn't reply; just walks forward. She didn't need Andromeda's pity or her child-like advice. She hates being told to "be herself". Sometimes, especially in comparison to her sisters, everything about Narcissa's self, and everything that matters to her, feels so puny and inferior that itseems nonexistent. Like she's some sort of brittle, horrible doll – a shell of a person.
She presses her lips into a thin line, trying not to tear up. As hard as Dromeda tries, she will never quite understand her younger sister, not even if Narcissa had a million years to explain the thoughts swirling around in her head.