For QLFC, Round 6

Team: Tutshill Tornados

Position: Keeper

Prompt: AndromedaSirius

Word count: 2,113

đť–«ight ricocheted against the diamond panes of the window, bounced off the crystal tear-drops of the chandelier, and made every particle of dust in the guest room sparkle.

It clung to the air, and the green floral wallpaper, and every piece of furniture in the room.

Aunt Walburga refused to air the house or lift her wand to clear the dust, and her old, devoted house-elf, Kreacher, could only work so fast. Perhaps she thought that there was something grand and poetic about living in dust. Like Miss Havisham. Except she was married.

Andromeda pressed an embroidered (done painstakingly by Narcissa) handkerchief to her nose, but she could still feel the dust sticking to the insides of her nose and mouth.

Sirius, as usual, seemed relatively unaffected. But then, thought Andromeda, he was only fourteen, much too young to be affected by anything.

Even the war.

Andromeda curled her fingers against the dusty mahogany commode (all the way from Austria, purchased by their disowned Aunt Iola. The one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old scorch marks were still there from when her brother, Phineas, had set it on fire in his rage).

"What did Aunt Iola get disowned for, again?" asked Sirius; he was busy rifling through the top drawer, frowning as he realised that most of its contents had been burnt to a crisp.

"She married a Muggle," said Andromeda, her mouth stinging from the dust. She coughed, her eyes watering. "A Bob Hitchens. Uncle Phineas blasted her right off the family tapestry since their father wasn't around to do it."

"Now that's backwards," said Sirius, spinning around to face her and grinning. "Must've been pretty good-looking, eh? To risk our family's rage?"

"Don't be so childish," said Andromeda, more out of habit than anything else. "You know what they're like."

She was old enough to remember Sirius's birth. First, there had been rejoicing (on Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga's parts), and slight envy (on her parents' parts) that the first boy in their generation of Blacks had been born... and then there had been the matter of Sirius's eyes.

There was a way that all the Blacks looked (because of inbreeding — Andromeda hadn't thought of it herself, but it made total sense when Ted explained it to her). Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tall, with an aristocratic sort of elegance.

When Narcissa had been born blonde and pale-eyed, everyone had said that she took after Druella. She had been extraordinary. A rarity; so much so that her parents had broken the Black naming traditions to christen her after a flower rather than a denizen of the heavens.

But for Sirius, it was different. He was the first boy, and both his parents were Blacks.

So how, the question had been asked, did he end up with grey eyes?

It didn't matter that otherwise, he looked every bit a Black. There had been months of shouting and accusations — sending Sirius to Healers to verify his paternity, Dark rituals... but eventually, both Orion and Walburga were left to conclude that he must have inherited them from Great Uncle Eduardus, who had been blasted off the family tapestry (for reasons lost to time) long ago.

So, if they would react that badly to Sirius's eyes, how would her parents react to Ted — oh, she didn't even want to think about it.

Would they speak whispered words of warning about her once she left? What object in this house would stand testament to her shame?

"Thinking about Ted, are you, Andy? Your face has gone all dopey.'"

"Don't call me Andy," said Andromeda. She pointed the end of her hairbrush at him threateningly. "Sirius, this is really serious — it's not funny, stop laughing!"

"Okay, okay," he said. "So you're really going to tell them about Ted? They're going to disown you — don't you get what that means? Aunt Druella will blast you right off the family tapestry—"

"—and I won't ever be able to come back," said Andromeda. The sun had gone in behind a cloud, and the hangings and adornments of the room cast shadows onto Sirius's face, making his expression even more severe. "They will cut me off financially. I will never be able to see you or Cissy or Bella or Regulus again. Or Mum and Dad. That goes without saying."

"I'll sneak out to see you, Andy," said Sirius.

Andromeda sighed. "I know you will; I can't stop you."

"It's not just about Ted," she said, collapsing into the chair opposite Sirius. "Well, obviously, it was the straw that broke the camel's back, but I just don't fit in with the rest of them."

"Like I do?" asked Sirius, slouching down in his chair. "At least you were a Slytherin."

"No, you're right," said Andromeda. "Maybe on the surface, I do get on a bit better than you do."

"Maybe?"

Andromeda laughed mirthlessly. "You're right. I do. But just because I'm good at pretending doesn't mean it's who I am. And especially when Vo- I mean, You-Know-Who, is going around and killing people, raising an army..." Her voice wavered. "I can't sit around and wait to be dragged into their side. It's not me; I don't want to. But I'm not brave. Not like you, I can't— I can't say things to them like you do. It's just easier to lie."

"I don't want to, either," said Sirius. "I don't want to kill people for You-Know-Who like Bellatrix does, and I don't want to sit around and watch the murder and torture like Narcissa."

"I'm sorry," said Andromeda, reaching forward to place her hand over his in a comforting gesture and wishing that there was more than she could do. "You're too young to have to deal with things like this."

"Do us a favour, eh?" asked Sirius as he sauntered off towards the stairs. "Break the news after dinner? Less shouting."

Andromeda rolled her eyes but followed him downstairs, anyway. Her elder sister, Bellatrix, was sitting between their father and Uncle Orion, chatting animatedly (probably about something vile). Rodolphus, Bella's husband, and Rabastan Lestrange (Andromeda never liked the way he always leered at her) were there, as well as Lucius Malfoy. Cissy was sitting beside Lucius, her expression impassive, and Aunt Walburga and Druella (she was never attentive enough towards her children for Andromeda to think of her as Mother) were discussing something in low tones.

"I hate them," said Sirius, under his breath. "I hate the lot of them."

"I know," said Andromeda. "Try not to argue."

"Did you know?" asked Bellatrix as they sat down, her voice high and indignant and her crystal earrings trembling on either side of her pale, enraged face. "A Mudblood presumed to speak to me today, in the familiar!"

"How awful," said Andromeda. To her left, Sirius stifled a laugh, causing Aunt Walburga to glare at him.

"Why were you at the Ministry today, Bella?" asked Cissy diplomatically, smiling evenly at both of her sisters.

Bella smiled, drawing herself up, and shared a triumphant look with Rabastan. "The Dark Lord sent me on an errand."

"That must be exciting for you," said Sirius. "Being the Dark Lord's lapdog and all. If you got any further up his arse, you'd be—"

Andromeda pinched Sirius to get him to shut up while he was ahead, but it was too late.

"SILENCE!" roared Aunt Walburga. "Straight to your room, Sirius, and not another—"

"But it's true, Mother!" shouted Sirius, standing up and knocking his chair over. "You might not like Muggle-borns, but they're people, just like us, and you can't kill them off or hunt them for sport — it's wrong!"

Impulsively, he leaned over to whisper in Andromeda's ear: "Tell them. Tell them tonight."

And with that, he stomped over to the double, gold-inlaid doors, wrenched them open, and stormed off. Andromeda could hear his angry footsteps slam against the marble floors.

The room had gone silent. The dust sparkling in the air had stopped moving.

The utter ridiculousness of it all was laid out in front of her. The airs and graces hiding the true, self-serving viciousness of their family were momentarily removed.

"I've got something to tell you," said Andromeda. She swallowed hard and looked at Druella. "I'm getting married, Mother."

"So?" asked Druella sharply, setting her cup of tea back on the saucer and waving off the house-elf attending to her. "Who is the young man, Andromeda?"

If she had thought the atmosphere was uncomfortable a minute ago, it was nothing compared with how awful and tense it was now.

"He's Muggle-born."

"What?" asked her mother, but it was more of an affected cough than a word. "Please tell me that I have heard you incorrectly, Andromeda. I did not hear you say that."

Her mind raced. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bellatrix stand up.

"Get out," said Bella. "This is a family matter. All of you, get out!"

As the others filed out, including even Bella, Cissy, and their father, Andromeda thought she saw a shadow slip back into the room.

Half-blood, say half-blood. Muggle-born father, witch mother. Come on, Andromeda, just one more little lie.

"H-He's—"

Druella looked up at her expectantly. Waiting to be appeased.

Andromeda closed her eyes and saw the ugly, twisted black ink of Bellatrix's Dark Mark when she'd pulled up her sleeve to show her sisters the morning after she got it.

The writhing snake and skull hadn't been scary in the least until Bellatrix started talking about killing and torturing Muggles and 'Mudbloods.' About what she'd do if she could get her hands on them.

That was when the Dark Mark had become something evil, something perverse. At that moment, Andromeda had wanted nothing more but to take the thirteenth-century sword that Great-Aunt Ursula had brought with her from France and cut the poisoned limb from her sister's body in one clean swing.

She had been wrong. Every twisted ideal the Ancient and Noble House of Black stood for hadn't begun with Lord Voldemort. Oh, yes; he'd taken advantage, stirred the pot, spurred people like Bellatrix on to commit unimaginable acts of evil and violence.

And now, standing in front of her mother, Andromeda could see as clear as day that for all their airs of being 'practically royal,' and nevermind tourjours pur; because they were pathetically, tragically backwards, and she had no more patience for standing on a sinking ship and hoping that they'd listen or change.

"You heard me correctly, Mother," said Andromeda, drawing herself to her full height and looking down at Druella. "I'm marrying a Muggle-born."

Andromeda hadn't realised the colour in a person's face could change so quickly; she felt strangely detached. Druella's face went white and red at the same time.

"YOU TRAITOROUS, UNGRATEFUL CHILD, I HEREBY—"

"You don't have to kick me out, Mother!" shouted Andromeda, her hands balling into fists. "I'M LEAVING!"

Before she lost her resolve, she turned tail and dashed up the stairs, Druella's shouts fading behind her. The shadow followed.

"That was," Sirius began as she crawled onto the landing and collapsed on the floor, "that was bloody brilliant, Andy! I can't believe you really stood up to her like that!"

"I can't either."

But they had to keep moving.

Sirius trailed her into the guest room, quickly barring the door behind them to muffle the sounds of Druella's wails from downstairs.

"Four more years of Hogwarts, Sirius. That's it," said Andromeda, hastily sweeping as many clothes as she could manage into her trunk as Druella began to climb the stairs, shrieking like a banshee. "I'll go out the window. Less shouting."

"I'm going to train to fight him," he burst out as if he had been holding it back for ages. Shoulders thrown back, eyes blazing. "Join the Order. I'm going leave, just like you did!"

I just hope you survive, thought Andromeda as she tried to ignore the crushing guilt of leaving him behind.

"You'll be okay," said Andromeda. "You'll come to find me if you ever need to escape, won't you? I wish I could take you with me."

"Can't I?" asked Sirius.

She knew he wanted to be free of the suffocating dust and cruelty, but he needed to stay here for the time being. This world full of war and sorrow was no place for a fourteen-year-old, brave though he may be.

"You'll know when it's the right time."

"Any more parting words of wisdom?" asked Sirius as he watched her ease the window open and tiptoe onto the ledge just below.

"Keep your nose clean." Andromeda paused before she shut it. Druella's shouts were growing louder. "And don't do anything I wouldn't."