Midway through August, Cissy comes downstairs unobserved in the morning just in time to see her father's face contract into a brewing storm of fury that not even his dark beard can mask as he slams the Prophet down and turns to her mother. He says, in the tense voice that's always terrified Narcissa, "We will cancel our subscription to this drivel. If the Prophet cannot filter what they publish, they certainly do not need our backing."

Druella pales and pats her mouth with a napkin. Although from her vantage point near the top of the stairs, peeking down through the dining room door, Narcissa can't see her mother's expression, she knows that it will be genteelly composed as always, but her mouth will have thinned into a bloodless line, her lips pressed tight to teeth.

"Yes, Cygnus," Druella says, replacing her napkin delicately in her lap. "I will Owl the Prophet at once."

And she rises from her seat and, under pretense of entering the kitchen (Narcissa knows it's a pretense because her mother never enters the kitchen), peers over Cygnus' shoulder at the offending article. Like Cygnus, Druella's face reforms itself into anger, perhaps betrayal.

Quickly, Narcissa runs through the list of possibilities for what could have been in the paper. Something about Andromeda is the only one that seems realistic—it's the only one that makes her heart contract with still raw betrayal, and Andromeda is surely the only person who could evoke such emotion in their parents.

Again, her heart contracts. What if Meda is hurt, sick, dead? Perhaps Cygnus was reading the obituaries, or perhaps Meda had been injured disgracefully while doing battle for the wrong side of the war.

But Narcissa instantly feels that these possibilities are wrong. Cygnus wouldn't have been upset over an obituary for a daughter already dead to him, and Meda would never openly fight for the other side. No, it has to be worse.

Perhaps she has married the Mudblood.

Cold fear washes over Narcissa, and she sways on the banister, even more stricken than when she imagined Andromeda dead. What else could it be but a notice telling of a wedding, perhaps past, perhaps upcoming?

Just to be certain, when Druella orders the house elf to toss the paper out and make sure it never enters the house again, Narcissa catches up to the elf.

"Give it here," she demands, still in her nightgown, hair unbrushed.

The creature fidgets and says, "But Mistress said for Binky to throw the paper out, and Binky doesn't like disobeying Mistress anymore."

"Too bad." Narcissa isn't about to take orders from a lesser animal like this. "What family do you serve?"

"Binky serves the house of Black." The little elf bows so that its nose touches the ground.

"And which family does my mother come from?"

"Mistress was a Rosier, Miss Narcissa."

"And am I not more Black than my mother?"

"Binky supposes you is, Miss Narcissa. But Binky …"

"Binky will give that newspaper to me right now, or I swear I will tear this robe from my body and force it onto yours!" cries Narcissa, brandishing a furious finger in its face.

The elf shoots her a glare that is half murderous, half respecting, and creeps towards her to hand the newspaper over. Narcissa dismisses it, and then, with a furtive glance to be sure neither Cygnus nor Druella is around, frantically tears through the Prophet to the social news page.

Sure enough, the bottom announces the marriage of Ted Tonks to Andromeda Black. An inscription accompanies it, stating each's heritage, their schooling. Narcissa notices that while Ted's family and siblings are mentioned by name, Andromeda's family merely consists of being "formerly of the house of Black." And beside the betraying article is a picture, not more than two inches tall, of Meda, Cissy's Meda, reclining in Ted Tonk's arms, the widest smile Cissy has seen her wearing on her face. Not even when she was with Bella did Meda smile like that.

She holds the paper in her two hands for a moment, staring in relative disbelief at the photo. Although she knew this was inevitable, Narcissa realizes now how unprepared she is for the reality of her sister marrying this unworthy man.

"Meda …" she moans. "Why, Meda?"

When her sister doesn't answer, she slowly rips the page in two. Right between Ted's goofy grin and Meda's brimming joy. The section with Ted on it, she tears into tiny pieces, but the section with Meda, she pockets. As soon as this is accomplished, Narcissa snaps her fingers for Binky.

"Clean that up," she tells the elf, pointing to the shreds of paper that used to be Ted Tonks, and spins on her heel and goes to her room to dress.

Once Narcissa is wearing day robes and her hair is brushed, she feels enough herself to open a drawer of her writing desk and pull out the set of peacock feather embellished parchment Meda gave her for her last birthday. At the top sits the letters she's written already to her sister. Narcissa burrows beneath those to come up with a clean piece of paper and vows to write a letter that she can send, this time.

Andromeda,

I saw you're marrying Ted Tonks. Father went purple with rage, and Mother got that thin lipped look you and Bella always tried to imitate. Well, without you two to snicker at it, it was positively horrifying! We're no longer subscribers to the Prophet, so whatever you do in the future, it will go unnoticed. Just so you know.

Well, I can't say I approve of this marriage. What can Tonks give you? I don't even believe he can give you the love you need, because what does he understand about you and your past? Mother always said that it's your past that defines you, so what's a Mudblood like him doing in your present and future?

Please, Meda, don't marry him. I'm begging you. Come back home. I'll make Mother and Father forgive you, and Bella … well, once she realizes that you know you made a mistake, she'll come around. Please, Meda. I have never meant something this much in my life. I love you. I need you. Come back.

Your Cissy

She doesn't bother to reread the letter, just blots it dry and ties it into a scroll. Gives it to Binky; watches the elf toddle from the room to the Owlry.

"And don't show it to Father or Mother!" she calls harshly after it.

For the next several minutes, Narcissa lies on her bed and tries to think of anything but the letter she just wrote. It's everything she doesn't want to be to Andromeda: Shallow, newsy, and above all, needy. Narcissa and Andromeda both loathe needy people; it's one of the few things they have in common.

Finally, when its almost more than she can bear to not go back to Binky and tell it to call back the letter, she returns to her writing desk; pulls out a fresh piece of parchment.

August 16, 1969

Dearest Andromeda,

This is what I should have said.

You don't belong with Ted Tonks. Not because I don't believe you love him; at least, I believe that you believe that you love him, because I know you don't do anything without conviction. No, you don't belong with him because you're a Black, Meda. No matter how many times you renounce us, you are a Black. And Blacks don't marry Mudbloods. That's why you don't belong with Ted, Andromeda. Because if you belong with him, you don't belong with us.

So if by some miracle you get this letter at some point in your life, do you remember when we were young and Father and Aunt Walburga took us into the room with the family tapestry? And Bellatrix ran her finger over her name, and showed both of us ours, because you couldn't really read, and I was just a baby? Well, I only know this story from you and Bella, but do you remember how proud Father looked when he said to Aunt Walburga "Even if my girls cannot carry on the name, they will surely carry on the values of the House of Black. See how they respect the family even now." And Aunt Walburga even looked pleased with Bellatrix, for probably the only time ever.

Well, you're not carrying the values of the House of Black right now, Meda. Maybe we could compromise. I know that, for reasons unknown to me, you used to like Reg Cattermole. Even though he's only half blood, and new money at that, what if you married him instead? I just think it's awfully selfish of you to throw your entire family away for one man. If Lucius was Muggleborn, I wouldn't even look at him.

Oh Meda, I know you think I don't understand love. But I do! I can! If they're one thing Mother has taught me, it's that no one is irreplaceable but family. So come back, Meda, because no one can replace you.

I love you,

Cissy

Come back, Meda, because no one can replace you.

The words haunted Draco for hours after reading the letter. He felt half like he was prying into something that was very personal of his mother's, like when he was young and would go into his parents' room to play with their wands. But the other half of him was simply awed by the glimpses of a Narcissa he never knew that he had been shown in the past week by the letters he'd read.

For the first time, it occured to him that maybe he should just track down Andromeda now; give her the letters and let her do what she would with them. It would be kinder to his memory of his mother if he remembered her as indomitable, steely, protective. Better to have that image, glowing gold in death, than to only know her younger, unsure side after she can no longer defend herself.

Yearning for an answer, whenever he could, he crept into his study to run a hand across the antiquidated envelope, feel the decades of loss beneath his fingertips. It's almost a possibility. See all these secrets I've kept? whispered the envelope. They're still your inheritance.