PART TWO:
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
END OF WEEK TWELVE
"That's it, I quit!" Kingsley sat up from the end of Andromeda's hospital bed, furiously upending the board game on the hovering tray between them, sending small wooden tiles in all directions. "I quit and I am never playing with you again, not ever, not even if you beg me, I don't care how bloody infirm you are!" He kicked one of the tile holders, which had landed by the side of the bed. "And all these Muggle games you make me play are stupid. The only one worse than this is the murder mystery with the little silver weapons. Why can't we play a real game? Like gobstones? Or Wizard's Chess?" He flicked his wand again, this time in the direction of the tiles that had been missed with the first wave, and muttered, "Rather play Wizard's Chess."
Andromeda laughed. "Kingsley Emmanuel Shacklebolt, listed to yourself! You are the sorest sore loser I have ever set eyes-"
"I am not a sore loser!" He waved his wand, sending the tiles back into their cloth pouch. "You are a sore winner."
"A sore winner?" This only made her laugh harder; tears welled in her eyes.. "Forgive me, Minister, but you are the one throwing a Teddy-level temper tantrum right now, all over losing a game of Scrabble, not I."
"Not a game of Scrabble, Andromeda. Eleven. Eleven straight games. There is no way any person can possib... you're cheating, aren't you?"
"Excuse me?" She tried to look indignant, but it was difficult as she was struggling to hold back a hearty guffaw.
"You're a Legilimens. A better one than I am an Occlumens, I suspect. That's how you're doing it, it must be. You know what letters I have and block my words before I can-"
"You are a tall, handsome, bald-headed man-baby." She wiped her cheeks, but her shoulders continued to shake. This was not his first little fit over losing, but it was one of his bigger ones, and they always cracked her up. He was generally so stoic, so reserved and in control, even when angry. Even in battle. But at the moment, he was frowning and pouting and even had his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant tween. She wished she had one of those Muggle video cameras to capture the moment.
"You've wounded me with your words," he said sarcastically as he folded up the retrieved game board. He rolled his eyes. "Man-baby."
"I've certainly wounded your pride; that much is clear. And you're wounding me by making me laugh. I'm sick, remember?"
"Woman, there is no possible way you could have bested me eleven times in a row without-"
"Ohhhh, does ickle Kings-wee have a tough time being bested by his woman? Does it bother the former Wavencwaw that he's been slaughtered wepeatedly by a Hogwawts dwopout? Is wittle Kings-wee feewing a wee bit insecure about his intellect? Doed he need a nappy change and a bottle of warm milk?" (Bellatrix was not the only Black sister who'd perfected the mocking 'baby' talk voice.) She snorted but dropped the mocking tone. "Out of curiosity, love, is this how you reacted whenever Ravenclaw lost a Quidditch match? Did you throw your broom and whine to McGonagall that it must've been fixed? My poor dear sweet man, come, lay beside me and I'll rock you to sleep."
"This is precisely what I am referring to when I call you a sore loser." He flopped into the chair beside her bed, pouting.
"Go on, Minister. Let it out. Stomp those feet, pound your little fists against a pillow..." She reached behind her. "Here, use mine."
"Sod off."
She fixed the pillow behind her back. He stared straight ahead, aware of his immaturity in the moment but not caring to amend his behavior. Eleven games in a row!
"Let's see, this time I beat you by..." She picked up the pad and pencil on which they'd been keeping score to finish her calculations. "Three hundred thirty-seven to one-forty-two. Not one of my better scores, really, but the Dragon Pox takes a lot out of me, and you flipped the board before we'd even used a third the tiles."
It was Saturday afternoon. She'd been hospitalized since Monday, when her fever reached a dangerous high and even Severus' best potions couldn't bring it down. Kingsley had cared for Teddy since, as Narcissa didn't want him around Hope until he was deemed not contagious and the boy refused to stay anywhere but home, but he was now spending the long weekend with Draco and Hermione in Austria, at Andromeda's assistance. (Single parenthood exhausted Kingsley. He confessed on Day Three that he had newfound respect for her and couldn't understand how anybody managed alone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd managed to use the loo without Teddy rapping at the door as soon as he'd lowered his pants and asking for something he needed Right This Minute.)
"The next game we're playing against each other is Quidditch." Kingsley returned all the pieces to the box, which he in a small crate under her hospital bed. "We'll see how far Legilimency takes you on a broom."
Andromeda held her pencil over the paper, poised like a reporter. "Minister Shacklebolt, Andromeda Tonks with the Quibbler here. Tell me, do your constituents know you completely melt down when your girlfriend manages a triple word score that contains both a J and an X and is worth 116 points? Which, need I remind you, is but a modest amount considering what she got for 'oxidized' not two days ago, a word that earned her..." She checked back a few pages. "Two seventy-eight."
"I want a divorce."
"We're not married."
"Fine." He took one of her hands between his and sent her a sweet, fake smile. "Andromeda, will you marry me?"
"Are you asking me to marry you hoping I'll say yes so you can tell me you want a divorce?"
"Yes."
"Then no."
"I rescind my proposal, then."
She chuckled. He cracked a genuine smile.
"I'm sorry I'm a sore loser. It wears on a person, losing over and over. I am not used to it. And if I'm being perfectly honest, yes, I was often an arse about losing Quidditch matches, too." He brushed her hair back from her face. "When you get home, let's play strip gobstons. That's my favorite game."
"Because you usually win?"
"Because even if I lose, I win." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I do loathe the murder mystery game, though."
"Come here, love." She placed one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his bicep, and guided him down until he was nearly on top of her. "My fever is down for the moment. Let me make you feel better."
Their lips were just barely touching when was a knock at the door.
Kingsley immediately rose, straightened his jumper (Muggle clothes today), and called out, "Who's there?"
"Healer Smelthwick!"
"Enter." He waved his wand to unlock the door. They were still being extra careful to avoid the press.
"Good afternoon. I heard Andromeda was here and wanted to pop in." She smiled at her patient. "How are you feeling?"
"Better than Kingsley."
"Oh." The Healer turned to the Minister with concern. "Have you contracted it too?"
"No," Andromeda answered for him. "He lost his eleventh straight game of Scrabble and his life is ruined as a result."
"It's just a game," he said dismissively, though she shot Andromeda a quick, sharp look, which made her snicker.
"Fun." Healer Smelthwick looked pointedly at Kingsley. "Could I see you for a few minutes, Minister?"
"Certainly." He and Andromeda exchanged a puzzled glance, but he followed the Healer from the room, down the hall, and, most uncomfortably, into the same dusty old storeroom in which he and Andromeda had first 'noticed' each other.
"Lumos." Her wand lit up. "I've been trying to get in touch with you but was reluctant to send a letter, lest it should be read by Andromeda." The Healer took one of the stacked chairs, placed it on the floor, and sat, thus he did the same. "I have to be honest, Minister, I am concerned about something discussed during our last session."
"About Rowle?"
"No. About you."
"About me?" He was clearly taken aback. "What about me?"
"I realize that you are the Minister for Magic and that comes with certain... perks... but medical information is confidential. How did you learn the results of the sexually transmitted infections test Andromeda took?"
"I..." Should he lie? Tell the truth? Tell her it's none of her business? He sighed. "I requested a copy of her chart, the one that hung on the end of her bed in the facility. The results were included."
Healer Smelthwick pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed, looking pained. "I was afraid of that. They should have denied you."
"They tried to deny me, but I'm the Minis-"
"I know you're the Minister." She dropped her hand and regarded him scoldingly. "But I don't give a flying flobberworm who you are or what your position is, sir. As Andromeda's primary Healer, any requests for information relating to her should have gone through me, and you can bet your arse I never would have granted you permission to peruse her chart. That is such an egregious violation of her confidentiality and trust, it physically sickens me, and I believe you knew it was wrong when you asked for it. She is not your puppy, your child, or even your spouse. You had no right to that information."
His jaw dropped. He was not used to people speaking to him this way, the way his mother had when he misbehaved, the way McGonagall had when he was caught out after curfew. He didn't like it in his youth and he wouldn't stand for it now. He rose.
"With all due respect, I don't believe we have anything more to discuss, Heal-"
"Sit back down."
Her tone was so sharp, he obeyed without a second thought. He blinked several times, as if unable to believe he was being reprimanded. He even folded his hands in his lap and sat up straight, two things his mother required during a 'talking-to.'
"You need to tell Andromeda what you did. I'll not file a formal complain as I do not wish to see a fellow staff member fired for doing what I'm sure she or he thought they had to, but I would like your word you will not abuse your power in such a way again, because if I discover you've-"
"I apologize, Healer Smelthwick." He held his hands up in surrender. "I suppose I did not think it was..."
"You did not think. That much is clear."
"But-" He couldn't refrain from defending himself. "Had she been diagnosed with something contracted from him, I could have gotten it too. Wouldn't knowing be my right, as it impacts my health?"
"You had your own testing done, did you not?"
He nodded.
"That was all you needed, then. If you're still worried, wear protection. But you have no right to another person's medical history or test results, especially when you neither asked her permission nor ever intended to tell her you'd perused her file. You violated her in reading through that, and I do not use that word loosely. How can she trust you? How can I? You abused your power at her expense."
He bowed his head, this time sufficiently chastened. "I'm sorry. I was worried about her."
"No excuse."
"Should I tell her what I read?"
"That's up to you, but if you want to be with her, to work on your relationship and grow as a couple, do you truly think you can do so when you're keeping a betrayal like that from-"
"A betrayal?" His head snapped up. "Is that not a bit extreme? I read her file, I didn't shag her sister."
"In that case..." Adelaide produced a miniature manila folder from inside her uniform pocket and transfigured it back to its usual size. "You won't mind if I give her yours. The Ministry requires all high-level employees have physical exams and mental wellness checks biannually, as you're no doubt aware. Let's peruse, shall we?" She flipped it open to a 'random' sheet of parchment. "Ah, here we are. June, 1990. May I ask whom you were dating then? I only wonder because it seems you were diagnosed with a nasty case of-"
"I don't think that's necessary!" He reached for it, but she held it beyond his fingertips, shooting him a pointed look.
"I found something interesting in 1994 as well. Shall I share, or do you know to what I'm referring?"
"You've made your point, Healer." Kingsley scowled, not making eye contact. "For the record, 1991 was cleared up in a matter of weeks." He cleared his throat. "And those were not 'defensive wounds' in 1994. I asked her to bite me. I didn't know they'd call me in for the exam two days later."
Adelaide shrunk the file with a shrug and returned it to her pocket.
"You owe me no explanation, Minister. It's none of my business, after all. Is it?"
"It is not."
"And it doesn't feel good, does it? To have someone privy to your personal information without your prior consent?"
"I said you've made your point, Healer Smelthwick." His tone was all business now. He was ready to be done with this little impromptu meeting.
"Just making sure. Through your couples therapy sessions, I believe Andromeda has been as honest with you as she's been able to be with herself, which is saying something, given her struggles. I know you've said you'd like for her to get through an intimate encounter without breaking down and confessing something she thinks will make you hate her, right?"
"Yes."
"And I hope that day will come. But in the interim, it hardly seems fair that she's opening herself up to you so fully while you're not only keeping your own secrets from her, you're keeping secret the things you shouldn't know about her."
He let out a sigh of resignation, knowing she was right.
"I am not an open man, Healer. Our sessions... they're not easy for me. I am closely guarded with my personal life and always have been. I... Last week, after you'd gone, I told Andromeda the full story of my son and what happened to him, and to his mother, things I've never told anyone save for my Mother, who shared with my father. Both agreed to keep it between us and never again speak of it. I was raised to be strong, shoulders back, stiff upper lip. I cannot be Minister and be an overly emotional-"
"No one is asking you to profess your love for her while standing in that fountain in the Ministry atrium, nor am I asking you to write a list of every secret you'd ever had to let the Prophet publish it. But I've made it clear since week one honesty is key, and learning you'd read her file - Kingsley, I do not mean to harp on it, but I'll not mince words: I am thoroughly disgusted. And while I won't tell her, nor will I reveal what I've learned from your file with another living soul, I think you need to have a conversation with Andromeda."
"I understand."
"And perhaps tell her about 1991 too. It may ease her mind to know you're not perfect either." She stood, indicating he could do the same.
"Thank you for not reporting my perusal of the file, Healer. Doing so could only hurt us both, not to mention the employee I... intimidated. You were right, I knew it was wrong when I was doing it, and no excuse is a good enough excuse. I'll tell Andromeda. I promise. And I genuinely appreciate all you've done for us through our session, and all you did for her in the facility."
He held out his hand. She shook it.
"I do think you're a decent man, Minister. And I have faith that you'll do what's right." She reached toward the door.
"Six months ago, I thought our relationship was damaged beyond repair."
She hesitated, her fingers on the knob. "And now?"
"I have hope."
"Good. I only want what's best for both of you, and for Teddy. I don't know if you're what's best for each other. But I think it's clear you love each other, and for that reason, I want whatever you have to work out... though you'll have to work at it."
"Thank you."
"Nox."
She left the room. He stayed for several minutes, leaning against the wall, staring into the darkness. He remembered the rush he'd felt the day Andromeda pulled him in here, when they'd kissed for the first time, when they'd hurriedly half-undressed each other unable to resist exploring with fingers and lips and tongues. He'd been in love with her from afar, and to realize she was attracted to him too had been the ultimate high. As he got to know her better, he found she wasn't exactly the person he'd built up in his head, but he fell just as in love with the woman she really was, the one who wore ripped jeans and oversized Quidditch t-shirts, the one who cleaned her home for fun, the one who did crossword puzzles when she was supposed to be working and scolded him for eating biscuits in bed because crumbs attract mice. As much as he loved dancing with her at social engagements and drinking with her until both were a bit heady, he also loved reading beside her before falling asleep together and listening to her use a dozen different voices when telling Teddy bedtime stories. He'd read more than he should have in that file - he'd read it all, not just the results of her STI tests - and he knew she suffered from depression, that she self-harmed, that she was addicted to modified elven herb and alcohol...
And he knew that her parents had taken her in to be tested for 'mental defects' as a child, that they'd insisted there was something wrong with her, and that the "port-wine stain" on her thigh was actually a purpled burn left by an illegal potion her drunken father threw at her when she was small. He knew more than he should, perhaps even more than she could remember...
(He silently scolded himself for not having realized nothing was in there about Dragon Pox, thus he should have realized she was indeed in danger of catching it from Teddy.)
He also knew how horribly she'd been tortured by those Death Eaters, an attack she always wrote off as 'not that bad' but refused to relive in detail.
"You've fucked up, Kingsley," he muttered. "You have to tell her."
He pondered asking Healer Smelthwick for a copy of his own medical file and giving it to Andromeda, in case she wanted to do to him as he'd done. At the time, he'd told himself there was nothing ethically wrong with reading her file. She was sick. She needed treatment. He was practically her next-of-kin, albeit not legally. He was paying for her stay in that private facility. He told himself he was owed that information, that he needed it in order to best help her recover.
But in truth, he was trying to understand why she was the way she was.
Madness ran in her family, in the entire Black family, and it was no secret her parents were quite young, obscenely wealthy, and woefully under-educated, as her maternal grandparents eschewed Hogwarts for letting Muggleborn students attend and her paternal grandparents did not seem at all concerned with their son's low marks across his O.W.L.s so long as he didn't seem set to squander the family fortune or lose them their place in the Sacred 28.
At least her parents weren't closely related to each other, as her cousin Sirius' had been (according to that tapestry on the wall in Grimmauld Place).
Andromeda's parents had actually done their girls a service by allowing them to attend Hogwarts through age seventeen, at which time they were pulled out to prepare for marriage (or Andromeda would have been as Bellatrix was, had she not run off). This was the way many pureblood families handled their daughters' educations, though by the turn of the twentieth century, most had abandoned the archaic courtship rituals and were content to let their daughters finish their schooling before being married off. (Some even let their daughters select their own husbands. His own parents had chosen each other, but his father's parents' marriage had been arranged.)
He wanted to know if she was mad, in part because he worried for poor Teddy, and he wanted to know if she had a disease, in particular any he could potentially catch, but the Healer was right: it was not within his rights to read that file.
And he would have to tell her he'd done so.
The question was, when?
Should he do it now, while she was in the hospital, but knowing they still had one more session with their Healer?
Or after they returned home, when their sessions would be over but they'd be back in the privacy of their own... her own space?
He sank back into the chair and cradled his face in his hands. He could already feel one of those intense headaches coming on. They were generally triggered by stress, seasonal allergies, or lack of sleep. Currently he was battling all three. He wanted to lay on the couch in her sitting room with his head in her lap and have her massage his forehead and put pressure on his temples, the way she did so well. He wanted to go back in time to the way things were before he'd asked her to marry him and she'd said no and their entire bloody lives had slowly unraveled.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into the small, dark room. How had he let everything go so wrong?
Meanwhile, down the hall, Andromeda had a visitor.
"They assure me you're no longer contagious," said Narcissa, though she didn't look like she wanted to get too close.
"What are you worried about? You had Dragon Pox when we were children, didn't you?"
"I did, yes, but Hope-"
"Isn't here. So everything's fine. Come, sit, have a biscuit. Why are you here?"
"I need you." Narcissa, deciding it was safe, rushed to her sister's side, though she ignored both the chair and the bicsuit tin. She tgrabbed one of Andromeda's hands between her own. "I've been dying to talk to you in private for the last two weeks. I need your help. My sex life is the most unfulfilling it's ever been. I'm serious. I have never been so sexually dissatisfied in my entire life, and I'm both growing desperate and going mad."
"I'm flattered, Cissy, and I know I told you've I've had experience with a woman in the past, but we're related, so-"
"Augh!" Narcissa dropped Andromeda's hand and pulled both of her own back, clutching her chest dramatically. "That's revolting! Why do you always say things like that? I meant I wanted your advice, you perverted purple-spotted platypus."
"Nice alliteration." Andromeda chuckled. "If ever I write a book, I'll ask you to edit."
"This is no laughing matter, Meda! Severus and I... we're... I need help!"
"Have you tried that Karma Sutra book you borrowed back from Hermione?"
"He'll look at the pictures with me but he's unwilling to try anything too adventurous. He won't even shag me in the backyard after dark even though our hedges are enchanted so no one can see over or through! He says those Muggle airplanes have windows so people will spot us from above. 'Good for them,' I said. 'Let's give them a show!' He said absolutely not. What else can we do? Wearing a dog collar is all well and good, but-"
"I thought it was a choker."
"Fuck off, it was a dog collar and we both know it."
Andromeda chuckled a second time. "I'm not laughing at you, love, but you're sweet when you get like this. Your pout reminds me of the one Kingsley was wearing earlier, when I destroyed him at Scrabble."
"I don't know what Scrabble is and I don't care. Can you help me? Surely your marriage was boring at times, right? That's why you had an affair?"
"Are you looking to have an affair?"
Narcissa gasped. "Of course not! I love Severus! I'd never do that to him! How can you even ask... how can you ever think I'd... how can you-"
"Relax, Cissy, it was just a question! Merlin's beard!"
"I don't want an affair, Meda." Narcissa settled herself in Kingsley's chair and popped open the tin. "Oh, good, chocolate. I keep eating chocolate. Whenever I'm... unsatisfied... I eat chocolate. I'm going to be fatter than Molly Weasley by Christmas."
"Leave Molly alone."
"Why? You don't like her any more than I do."
Andromeda thought for a second. "You're right, I don't. Pass me a biscuit. We'll get fat together."
"Here." Narcissa took two more, then handed her the tin. "I saw Molly in Diagon Alley on Tuesday. She expressed disappointment that her son and Hermione allowed a silly little thing like his lapse in judgment come between them. 'Lapse in judgment?' I said. 'He was cheating on her! She was a virgin, waiting for the right person, and he was off shagging witches left and right!' She took offense to that and reminded me Draco made his share of mistakes as a young man, too. I told her that my Draco is a thousand times the man her little Ginger Weasel will ever be and now Hermione's sore at me because now the Weasley family might not attend the wedding." Narcissa sent her sister withering glare. "Not that I want them there, but Hermione does, and she's the bride."
"Yes, the bride is an important part of the wedding. Let it go, Cissy. Molly's issues are not your issues. Hermione is happy with Draco, she and Ron have been over for years, they're all friends now and there's no good in creating drama for the sake of drama."
"I know." Narcissa jutted out her lower lip. "But she gets under my skin. I can't help it. Her husband and my Lucius were not exactly fond of each other either. But that's neither here nor there... back to my problem..."
"Back to your problem, yes. It just so happens, I have an idea. After I'm released, you and I will go shopping. There's a seedy little place I've visited a few times in the past, where they have a number of toys and accessories and little games meant to spice up even the blandest marriage. I bought Ted naughty dice there once."
"What are naughty dice?"
"Dice are little squares, cubes, really, with six sides. They typically have dots on them... I'll show you when I get home. But the ones I bought Ted had body parts on one, actions on another, locations on a third, and durations on the fourth. You roll them and do what they direct. For example, you might get 'thighs,' 'lick,' 'kitchen table' and 'two minutes,' and then you'd have him lick your thighs for two minutes while on the kitchen table. There's a whole point system with rewards for satisfactory actions and there are punishments if a person won't or can't... Oh, you'll see, I don't need to spoil it all for you."
"Ooh!" Narcissa looked intrigued. "Yes, I'll buy those."
"You can have mine. Kingsley and I..." Andromeda bit her lip. She didn't want to confess to her sister how long it had been since they last had intercourse, but she also knew she couldn't lie. Not to a fellow Legilimens. Not without making her suspicious. "Kingsley and I are already quite adept at foreplay, thus we don't need them." That, at least, was the truth. "And the shop has a number of other... additives... that Severus may be less likely to balk at. You'd be surprised. I guarantee we will find something there to help him branch out and give you a more interesting experience. Trust me."
"Thank you." Narcissa sighed, relieved. "You are a life saver. Or a marriage saver. To be completely candid, lately I feel as though I'm having an illicit affair with the shower head and a vibrating charm."
"Ah yes." Andromeda nodded knowingly. "I used to date a shower head myself. Detachable?"
"Of course."
"We have problems."
"At least we're not alone."
They both laughed at this.
"You're looking better, Meda." Narcissa patted her sister on the forearm.
Andromeda smiled. "I'm feeling better. They said I should be discharged tomorrow, but whether it'll be before or after our therapy session with Healer Smelthwick they couldn't say. Speaking of Healer Smelthwick, she stole Kingsley shortly before you arrived and he hasn't returned. I hope nothing's wrong. If I were dying, they'd tell me, wouldn't they?"
"Probably. Or they'd tell me and I'd tell you. I promise."
"Thank you."
"Kingsley's done a fine job in your absence thought." Narcissa fiddled with her braid, which Andromeda recognized as a telltale sign she wanted to say more but was reluctant.
"Out with it."
"He would be a great father."
"You think he should leave me for Hestia?"
"What? No!" Narcissa stood, placed her elbows on Andromeda's mattress, and rested her chin in her palms. "She should choke on a bezoar and die. But what if you made him a father?"
Andromeda bristled at this. "I've told you, I can't have more children."
"Are you sure? Healers are making amazing headway with reproductive assistance charms and potions. Severus and I explored some of the options when we were trying to give Hope a sibling. It's been almost a decade since your little issue, hasn't it? Perhaps, in that time, they've managed to find a way to fix-"
"You don't have the foggiest idea what a partial-hysterectomy is, do you, Cissy?"
The youngest Black sister had to confess she did not.
"But surely-"
"They can't fix what I don't have. It's not reversible and there's no cure."
"Oh." Narcissa, looking crestfallen, retook her seat. "But what if you-"
"No."
"But if you asked-"
"No."
"But maybe you could-"
"No! Narcissa, no! There is no possible way, and even if there were, I do not want another child. And Kingsley does not want a child. If that baby is his, well, we'll manage, just as I've managed with Teddy, but no, no more babies for me, not now and not ever."
"I'm sorry." Narcissa plucked the tin of biscuits off her sister's abdomen, helping herself to two more. "I hope Hermione and Draco will want babies. I hope they have at least two. He was lonely growing up, he wanted a brother or sister."
"Like Teddy."
"Yes."
"Hope and Teddy have each other. I think that's as close to a brother or sister as either of them is going to get." Andromeda quickly amended. "Save for Draco, of course."
"He's more like an uncle than a brother. Speaking of which, I hope he and Hermione are enjoying their weekend with the children! Do you suppose they'll survive to see Monday?"
"Children, plural? Is Hope with them?"
"She is! First full weekend without us, though she's done single overnights with them before. I think it was harder on Severus and I to see her go than it was for her to leave. She couldn't wait, even helped pack her little bag. Teddy, on the other hand, begged Kingsley not to send him. You'd think Draco and Hermione make it a habit of cooking children in their cauldrons the way he was carrying on. Severus and I shared a lovely adults-only dinner in Hogsmeade followed by perfectly acceptable sex during which we didn't have to keep an ear out in case she awoke. But by breakfast this morning, he and I were both depressed and missing her. He took the dog for an extra long walk so I went to visit a friend."
Andromeda's jaw dropped in mock shock. "You have friends?"
Narcissa glared back, but only for a moment before confessing, "Fine, I went to visit Hermione's mother at Malfoy Manor. Her twins are with their father this weekend so we went to brunch and drank mimosas until-"
"You did what?" Andromeda sat up straighter. Narcissa set the last biscuit back in the tin and turned slowly toward her.
"I'm sorry, I meant-"
"You were drinking?"
"Only a little. Only the mimosas. Orange juice and champagne, but mostly orange juice."
"I know what a mimosa is. You were drinking?"
Narcissa grit her teeth, squirming under her sister's harsh gaze. "Only a little, I said."
"You can't drink. You're an alcoholic. Like me. We're the same."
"Are we? Are we the same?" Narcissa set the tin on the table and went again to her sister's side. "Please, Andromeda, don't take this the wrong way, but we are not the same. My issues with alcohol were never like yours. I consumed a bit too much that day we sent the Minister Bella's knife in the pie, and leading up to it I'd been imbibing too frequently, I'll admit, but I was depressed. Grieving Lucius. Confused about my feelings for Severus. And I went to that short rehabilitation and came out of it fine, without any urge to overindulge again, and I... I can handle a drink here or there, Meda. I can. Once a month, while the children are with their fathers, Hermione's mother and I go to brunch and drink mimosas and that's all, I swear. I've never even had the urge to drink at any other time."
"Does Severus know about your little brunch dates?"
Narcissa's cheeks went pink. "I may have neglected to mention our choice of beverage. But I can handle it! I'm not... you."
Andromeda nodded. "You're dead on, there. You're not me. And maybe you can handle it. But what if I can't?"
"I can."
"I worry about you." Andromeda gripped Narcissa's hand. "You're my only sister."
"I know." Narcissa brought their hands up to her lips to kiss the back of Andromeda's. "I worry about you, too. You're my only sister. And if I can't handle it, you'll be the first to know, and you can tell Severus, and he can send me back to the facility and I'll have learned my lesson and never touch it again. I promise."
"Alright then."
Narcissa opened her mouth as if to speak again, but the door swung open and there was Kingsley.
"You were gone a long time. Everything alright with Healer Smelthwick?"
"It will be," he said, but she couldn't help noticing he was slightly ashen. "Andromeda, we need to talk."
"I should go. I have errands to run, shopping to do, and I'm meeting Severus for an early dinner." Narcissa kissed Andromeda's forehead, fixed her blanket, and plucked the last chocolate biscuit from the tin. "We'll talk tomorrow."
"I'm hoping to be home by then."
Kingsley and Narcissa bid each other adieu. He locked the door.
"What is it, Kingsley?" Andromeda couldn't help employing a little Legilimency, but she couldn't read him. He was completely closed off.
"I've done something," he said. He sat in the middle of her bed, on the edge, one arm across her thighs. "Something for which I am sorry. And you deserve to know about it."
A/N
Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter! I want to show their last session with Adelaide in its entirety but it would make this chapter a monster, so it's saved for C25.
To answer the Q asked by FrancineHibiscus, they're wearing bathing suits (or underwear) in the tub because I based Severus' concoction on the one I had to bathe in when I had the chicken pox as a kid. All I remember is that there were oats floating in it and I wore a bathing suit to keep them out of my more personal areas, even though, really thinking about it, the material probably didn't create all that much of a barrier. I probably didn't need to make them as sensory-squicky as I was (am) though. I'm sure Severus could whip up something non-invasive. lol :)
Thank you to Chapter 24's reviewers, FrancineHibiscus, emrldapplejuice, Kat, Harry Hobbit, KnowInsight, lilikaco, somethingnew2016, and kalilje! Also thanks to all readers and anyone following or adding to faves!
-AL