Word count: 654

Andromeda watches as Bellatrix approaches her with a hint of a smirk on her lips, like she knows some amusing secret that Andromeda isn't privy to. Andromeda hates it when her sister does that, but there isn't really anything she can do. Bellatrix will always just be Bellatrix, and all Andromeda can do is love her and endure the headaches in silence.

"What's with the face?" Andromeda asks once Bellatrix is close enough to hear her.

"Rabastan Lestrange keeps staring at you," Bellatrix answers, like it's the most exciting news to come from their parents' party.

Really, it is rather exciting. Andromeda rarely thinks about such things, but she wouldn't mind it if Rabastan approached her. Truth be told, she's dreamt of it more times than she'll ever admit. Her cheeks burn at the thought.

Bellatrix notices, and her smirk only grows. "Like a giddy schoolgirl, Andi. Have some dignity!"

"Shut up." Her blush only deepens until it feels like her whole face might catch fire.

"You know, Mother and Father would approve," Bellatrix continues. "You would make quite a lovely couple, and he is from a good family. Think of the power if our bloodlines mixed!"

Andromeda hates that her sister's mind has already jumped to marriage. After all, Andromeda is only fourteen! Why should she be concerned about things like that? And yet, the idea of it makes her heart flutter.

She clears her throat, smoothing her hands over her dress, a lovely lilac number. Andromeda had had to beg and plead for her mother to allow her to wear it. Purple doesn't suit Blacks! In the end, her father had come to her aid. Now, though, the dress which had, moments earlier, felt fine, suddenly feels a little too tight. Why does she feel this way? It can't be normal.

"Look at that! He's on his way over now."

And then Bellatrix is gone before Andromeda can even ask for advice. Of course, she doubts her sister would have any advice for her anyway. Bellatrix is beautiful, but she's far too mean for any boy to approach.

"Andi?" Rabastan offers her a nervous smile before holding his hand out, offering her a bouquet of flowers. "I know purple's your favorite color. They almost match your dress."

There's that fluttering in her chest again, like she's traded her heart for a hundred butterflies. Somehow, the feeling isn't terribly unpleasant; it's strangely nice, if a bit uncomfortable. "You didn't have to bring me flowers," she says, her cheeks burning again. His expression drops, and she's worried she's hurt his feelings, so she quickly adds, "They're lovely."

"Not as lovely as you."

She doesn't know what she's doing. Maybe Rabastan doesn't either, because he looks just as confused, just as anxious. Good. At least they're in this together, both just as lost as the other. That's actually comforting to know.

"Did you give these to me for a reason?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips quirk into an amused smile. "Isn't it obvious?"

Of course it is. She knows how he feels about her. Everyone knows. Though neither would ever admit it, they've been doing this for a while now, never quite committing to confessing their feelings for the other. Maybe it's time to change that.

"It is. But I want to hear you say it."

It's his turn to blush. Andromeda can't help but notice how lovely that heated pink looks against his pale skin. "Andi, I've fancied you for quite some time," he says, and there's a tremble in his voice, like, despite Andromeda's insistence, he's afraid it might all be unrequited.

With a soft smile, she steps forward, wrapping his arms around him. "I fancy you too," she says.

She doesn't know where to go from there, but maybe it doesn't matter. Both know where the other stands, and now they can figure it out together.