Here's Chapter 21 for you! I'm supposed to start 31 tonight, according to my co-author. xD Thank you for all the love and reviews so far: it really keeps us writing...and posting. :D

Do enjoy this latest update!

Dora

Nymphadora woke in complete darkness, gasping in sudden fright before she realised she'd pulled the silky sheets up over her head while she was sleeping. Sitting up and yawning slightly, Dora looked around the room for a moment, seeing that the clock said that it was ten in the morning. Why had they let her sleep so long? Wouldn't Bellatrix—her mother—have come to wake her to at least eat something?

The black-haired witch dragged herself out of bed, flicking her wand to remake the bed sloppily before she walked over to the wardrobe again. "Decent robes," she sighed, shaking her head at the idea. Andromeda would have a fit at the robe Dora selected from the closet; the older Metamorphagus always dressed more modestly than most witches of her age, but then Andromeda had always had strange ideas about proper clothing and etiquette and all.

Dora sighed as she thought of the witch that had raised her. The woman had lied to her for so long—how could she have never told her the truth? Dora was angry, yes, but at the moment, she was far more hungry. Slipping on the black dress, Nymphadora smirked at her image in the mirror. No, Andromeda would never approve—especially not of something so BLACK, but Dora had to give the woman credit: she was really good at doing, saying, and teaching things she didn't believe in.

Poking her dark-haired head out of her room, Nymphadora found the hallway to be clear, then scurried down the hall. As she looked out of the hall, wondering whether she should go left or right, a door opened down the hall and Dora gritted her teeth when she spotted Rabastan.

"Nymphie!" he called, chuckling. "Got your robes on right this morning?"

"Don't call me Nymphie!" she hissed at him as he walked down the hall toward her.

"Your hair," he said with a smirk, "looks like you slept in it."

Astonished at the man, she didn't speak, and he reached out, giving her braided hair a tug. "Hey!" she said in annoyance, slapping his arm away as she allowed her magic to singe his arm slightly.

Rabastan raised an eyebrow after he'd winced and yanked his arm away from her. "Why did you do that? Who taught you that? Not that blood-traitor freak—"

"Excuse you," Nymphadora glared at him, "but the freak raised me, and the Mudblood too. Yes, she taught me my Unforgiveables. Be thankful I didn't do a full curse."

"Sure," Rabastan shrugged. "Bella will be testing you on that soon enough, I'm sure. So where were you going? I'm sure you don't know your way around the manor yet—Bellatrix told me that Cissa got lost in the manor once even after she and Lucius were married. Where are you headed?"

"I was thinking of getting something to eat," Dora sighed, unsure she could eat if Rabastan sat beside her and talked about her corset the whole time. She would definitely curse him if that turned out to be the case.

He grinned. "Kitchens," he said. "As long as you know where the kitchens are, you never have to show up to meals—but they'll probably expect you to eat with them when you get used to being here."

Dora bit her lip slightly as he led the way down the hall, back past her room. "You were going the wrong way," he told her. "The Malfoys live down the hall to the left, and your mother lives down the opposite hall. I do too, come to think of it—in case you ever want to visit, you know." Rabastan winked at her.

She gave him a disgusted look, and he feigned hurt, looking away from her. "Your mother also has a special room across from yours, but she doesn't sleep there...don't know what she wanted it for."

Dora didn't speak, though when Rabastan led her into the kitchen, he was laughing at another of his own jokes. "I told you to go away," came an annoyed voice, and Dora turned toward the voice to see a teenage blond boy sitting at the small table.

"Nymphie wouldn't agree to go to my room, so I had to bring her here," Rabastan shrugged, and the boy glanced at Dora in surprise. "Oh, yes, this is Nymphadora Black, your aunt's daughter."

"I know," the boy answered. "I've known for years, way before she did."

Rabastan summoned an elf, commanding it to bring food for his friend, and Dora didn't miss the look of annoyance on the boy's face. "It's Draco, right?" she asked, putting her hand on the back of the chair next to him. He nodded. "Is it all right if I sit here?" Draco nodded again.

The elf brought Dora a platter of food and she smiled, looking at it before glancing at the elf. "You may leave."

The Malfoy and the Lestrange exchanged glances, but Dora didn't look up, digging into her breakfast. Finally, Rabastan asked, "So tell us, Nymphie—"

She flung a hex at him wandlessly and Draco stared at her in shock. "Don't call me Nymphie," she told him. "I'm just Dora."

"I thought you were raised by a Mudblood," Draco frowned at her. "Mudbloods don't accept that sort of thing."

"Yeah, but with a Black blood-traitor, it overpowers the Mudblood aspect," Dora shrugged. "Andromeda tried to give me a pureblood upbringing, but most of it was just in theory."

"That would suck," Rabastan nodded, then grinned at Draco. "Don't make her mad. She's got a good Cruciatus: she's already tried it out on me this morning."

Draco frowned. "So...you're a Metamorphagus?"

Nymphadora sighed and closed her eyes, morphing her hair dark purple. "Yes." She returned to eating, trying to ignore the two males who kept looking at each other over her head.

Rabastan rose from the other side of the table. "How about you two get acquainted?" he grinned, striding toward the door. "Give her a tour of the mansion, Draco, after all—she's going to be here for a long time. But don't show her my room: I'll do that—"

A stronger hex bounced off the door, and he shouted, "Learn to aim, Nymphie!" before leaving the room and walking down the hall laughing.

Nymphadora growled under her breath, and Draco gave her a slightly sympathetic look. "He's always like that, especially when he meets new people. He's probably curious to know if you're like Bellatrix—most of us are."

She didn't reply, and Draco glanced to her plate. "Are you finished? We could go for a walk—our mothers are talking out in the garden...that's why Bellatrix didn't gather you for breakfast. Mother wanted a word with her first."

Dora nodded and Draco summoned an elf to clear and clean the table, standing and leading his older cousin from the room. Draco pointed out the guests room to her and Dora nodded politely. He led her across the entrance hall to the other wing of Malfoy Manor.

"Father's study," he motioned to a dark, sturdy door, and Dora frowned, thinking of the boy's father.

"One time I recall seeing your dad," Dora grinned, "I was fourteen, in Diagon shopping for school things. I had got away from Mother—I mean, Andromeda—and had gone to Knockturn instead. We ended up in the same shop, and he stared at me like I'd come back from the dead—he must have thought for a wild second that I was Bellatrix."

Draco merely turned away from the door with a smirk. "The library and sitting room are this way as well," he said to Nymphadora. "The main hall is on the first floor, of course—and you know where the dungeons are."

Dora stuck out her tongue. "Obviously, yes," she glared at the wall.

"Garden," Draco said, walking out through the doors.

"But we shouldn't interrupt your mother and Bella," Dora said quickly, and Draco gave her a calculating look.

"I know you've probably heard that Bellatrix is insane, and she is, but she swears that she would never hurt you," Draco told her. "Whatever that means. She'd definitely hurt me, even though I'm her nephew."

"She told me as much," Dora sighed, "but I still don't know what to think. I still can't believe she's my mother."

Draco smiled a little. "I'm glad she's not mine," he said. "Now come on: the garden is large enough that we need not meet them: I can guess where Mother would have taken Bella."

Dora sighed again and allowed the blonde boy to lead her into the garden. They walked together in silence until Draco said, "The Dark Lord has ordered Bellatrix to make you fit for his service. Do you want to be a Death Eater?"

"I do," Dora said, a slight smile coming to her lips. "I always thought it would be a bit horrible, thinking I was a half-blood and all, but I still wanted to be in on the action."

"So do I!" Draco declared, then glanced around hastily. "Mother doesn't want me to join, but I want to be like Father and serve the Dark Lord," he told her in a confidential tone.

Nymphadora nodded. "Be that one who denies his master when the Ministry brings the heat."

Draco's cheeks flushed red with anger. "How dare you?!"

She laughed outright at his expression, then said, "I had to say that. Andromeda always said that about Lucius: that he was never one to boldly speak his allegiance."

Draco was about to retort when two witches stepped onto the path before them. Narcissa looked between the two. "Are you arguing?"

"Just a little cousinly disagreement," Dora said easily, making Draco glare at her. "I insulted his father."

"Ha!" Bellatrix laughed, reaching out to put her arm around the girl's waist and not missing the younger woman's hesitation. "Already decided Lucius isn't your type, Dora?"

Dora glanced at the two Malfoys, then said, "It doesn't matter."

Narcissa sighed, then gave her sister a pointed look. Bella released the girl reluctantly and Narcissa said, "We are going to talk for a few minutes, Nymphadora. Follow me."

"Don't I get a choice?" Dora snapped in annoyance, seeing that Draco had already escaped the three witches.

"No," Narcissa answered. "Bella didn't get one, either."

Dora rolled her eyes, following the blonde witch back toward the house. It had better be worth walking across the entirety of Malfoy Manor to merely talk to one family member and the next. She had the feeling she needed to talk to Narcissa before she talked with her own mother again—Bellatrix seemed to be more nervous now than before she'd told Dora of her true parentage.

Narcissa led the girl into the drawing room of Malfoy Manor and motioned her to take a seat, standing near the door. Nymphadora could feel the wards on the room and knew their conversation was protected from those outside.

"Dora—Nymphadora," Narcissa began, "I feel I should warn you about Bella—about your mother. She isn't perfectly sane, but she would never hurt you...not on purpose."

"Cissa," the purple-haired witch began with a sigh, "what are you trying to tell me?"

"Just...give her a chance," Narcissa said softly. "Her life has been awful, from the time she was born. You know now that your real father is also her father, and my father...Bella was abused for years at home."

"Andromeda told me," Nymphadora murmured, her throat dry. "She told me that when I found out she was a Metamorphagus too...she said he delighted in abusing her powers, that I had made his list because of mine."

Narcissa nodded slightly. "Bellatrix was a wonderful mother to you," she said quietly. "The only reason she sent you away was so that you wouldn't fall prey to our father. Rodolphus would not allow Bellatrix to keep you at his home, and so Bellatrix entrusted you to Andromeda. It broke her heart, Dora: I saw her moments after she'd left you—she was inconsolable."

Nymphadora listened carefully, wondering that the evil, insane witch the world always saw Bellatrix Lestrange as had given up her own daughter to protect her. "I understand her concerns, especially after I'd met Cygnus—the man is downright perverted," Dora snapped, then regained her calm. "What about Bellatrix, then?"

"Just...don't blame her for leaving you with Andromeda," Narcissa said, stepping forward. "She did the best she could with all odds against her—she'll never let you go now, and will protect you, though I'm sure you hardly need it. You are Bellatrix's daughter, after all."

"Ha!" said Dora, smirking proudly as her hair flashed to black. "Thank you for protecting me from our father," she added, the word strange on her lips.

"You are Nymphadora Black; you are my niece," Narcissa said firmly, and Dora stood, face-to-face with the blonde woman. "I would not fail to protect you, especially when your mother was far away in Azkaban."

Dora hesitantly reached out, then hugged the woman fiercely. "She was angry I didn't know anything about her being my mother," Dora muttered as she pulled away from her aunt.

Narcissa sighed. "And that isn't your fault, although you will be shouted at for it," she said. "I'll do my best to teach you the pureblood ways and what is expected of you, though I had thought Andromeda would do a better job of it—she was always the proper one."

"She is," Dora rolled her eyes. "Until recent years, she was no fun at all."

"Oh?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "You must tell me some time. Now then, dear, are you settled in to your room?"

"Yes," Nymphadora replied. "It's nice, thanks."

"Good," Narcissa smiled. "The library and the gardens are open to you; I suggest you don't lock yourself in your room. I'm sure you can find something to amuse yourself."

"Am I allowed in the dungeons?" Dora asked suddenly, and the woman looked surprised.

"Only if Bellatrix goes with you," Narcissa answered. "The dungeons are off limits to most people, anyway."

Nymphadora nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks," she said, then gave the witch an appreciative smile and left the room. She knew Bellatrix would take some getting used to—the whole pureblood/daughter-of-Bellatrix thing would take some getting used to—but she was willing to do it in order to get to know the witch that had brought her into the world.