The news about Sirius did nothing to improve the situation at our house. Mother went around muttering about her ungrateful, worthless son and Father shook his head a lot and spent a lot of time in his study, alone. Aunt Elladora used to bring it up, but Mother always responded by asking after Andromeda's health, which usually brought the conversation to a grinding and awkward halt.

The only thing that did improve was, as I had predicted, my own small role in family affairs. Without Sirius to nag, Mother had little to occupy herself with; she didn't work and we had servants to do the chores. She, therefore, turned her attention to me. I was also alone with my tutors which meant I spent more time studying and less time listening to them chew out Sirius for misbehaving. And family gatherings had become really dull now that all of the younger generation was off to Hogwarts except me. I spent hours curled up by my mother's side, in a state of half-sleep, while the adults carried on about this and that.

Most of the this and a good portion of the that had to do with the rise of the Dark Lord. Of course, no one called him that yet. He was just some radical wizard calling for action against the Muggles who were oppressing our society, forcing us to live hidden and restricted, and polluting the world with their idiotic Muggle waste and excess. Several offshoots of this movement occurred as the revolutionary talk traveled from mouth to mouth. One of the movements wanted to end the charade the Wizarding World put on and join our world with the Muggle world. They wanted to live side by side and thus end the restrictions that forced us to refrain from practicing magic on and before Muggles, and forced us to hide our houses and schools and ways of life from their prying Muggle eyes. This was not a very popular movement, as many wizards felt that Muggles were an obnoxious group who would only attempt to take advantage of the situation, and few people wanted to deal with Muggles anyway. We didn't mind cutting ourselves off from them if it meant never having to address them in public or acknowledge them or their ways. All the same, for some months long-haired, bellbottom-clad wizards and witches lined the streets of wizarding alleys and protested the Ministry's laws. Father shook his head at them and Mother called them "filth-eaters" and "consorts of swine."

Other offshoot movements rallied for other setups, some Muggle-friendly, others elitist. But the Dark Lord's plan called for immediate and permanent action against the Muggles and left no place for them in our society. Soon, clubs and organizations of which my parents were members began handing out newsletters and notices lamenting how the blood of wizarding families was becoming increasingly "bastardized" by the intermarrying of wizards and Muggles. They wrote reports indicating that Muggle blood in a family could cause a weakening in the magical talent of its offspring and an increased chance of Squib births. After these reports, several cases were reported in the newspapers of husbands beating their wives or demanding divorces after fathering Squibs, claiming the Squib children were proof that their wives had been cheating on them with Muggle men.

Everyone was up in arms about the whole thing and several bitter fights broke out over the months between pureblooded and mixed blooded families. The pressure to prove one's heritage and worth became increasingly important at home. Under these circumstances, Sirius' deviant and altogether dishonorable behavior—his being sorted in Gryffindor, his negligence regarding the family, the unfavorable reports Bellatrix continually sent home of his activities, and the unworthiness of the companions he associated with at school—was an understandable strain on the family. And then came the shock of Andromeda's secret.

Dec 31st, 1972

Number 36, Redburn Ave.

As Christmas was from now on to be celebrated at our house, it seemed only fair that the New Year should be rung in at Uncle Claudius'. Last year, we had celebrated Sirius and Narcissa's first Christmas home from Hogwarts by going out to eat. This year, however, there was a good, old-fashioned feast at the Black Manor on Redburn Avenue. I was excited because I was allowed to stay up past midnight, an unusual occurrence. Ever since Sirius had gone off to school a year and a half ago, Mother had turned some of her attention to rearing me, and had, accordingly, transferred the strict rules with which she had used to regulate Sirius' life to my life.

Speaking of Sirius, last year at the Christmas holidays I had been uncontrollably excited to see Sirius again, and in the summer vacation I had looked forward to conversing with him. This time around I was a bit wiser. Every time Sirius had come home in the year and a half since he had started Hogwarts, he became more and more ornery; it seems his school life had afforded him a freedom he couldn't find at home, and the loss of that freedom irked him to no end. And now that he was a second-year, one might think he was the Prince of the World. He spoke on every subject as though he were an expert and told me endless stories of the things he had seen and done at Hogwarts, all of which I, according to him, could scarcely imagine.

Well, if his intention was to make me jealous, he was at least partly successful; I could hardly wait to go to Hogwarts myself, and the eight long months which separated me from my goal were a torture. I was sick and tired of being the baby of the family. As if to complete my misery, Sissy had taken it upon herself to "babysit" me all night. Now, after the feast, waiting for the hour which would usher in the new year, I was hard pressed to escape her watchful gaze.

"Reggie, come and sit by me," she commanded loftily, waving at a cushioned stool at the foot of her chair. I sat on it glumly. The sound of adult laughter wafted in from the Drawing Room where our parents were gathered, reminding me that I was, perhaps, grateful to be where I was after all; at least we children were all together again, just as in the old days. Sissy reached down and patted my head patronizingly. "You'll be off to the old school soon enough, too," she announced.

"That's right," Bellatrix crooned in her baby's voice. "Our little Reggie. All grown up." She pretended to wipe a tear off her cheek. I rolled my eyes. I was almost ten and no baby anymore. "Promise me," my black-haired cousin continued, "that you won't go off and disgrace us, like your brother."

"Yes, do see that you're sorted into Slytherin," Sissy groaned. "That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Besides, I wouldn't want to be separated from you." She leaned down and wrapped her slim, pale arms around my neck.

As Sirius was not in the room, I felt brave enough to reply, "Oh, I won't disappoint you." And I firmly intended to fulfill that prophecy. The mere thought of my mother's agonized expression upon hearing of Sirius' activities was enough to convince me of the necessity of doing well at Hogwarts.

"Oh, good," Bellatrix murmured, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially in my ear. "If we had Sirius, you know, removed, you wouldn't be adverse to becoming the heir, would you?"

I started and gazed up at her with wide eyes. "What?" She wasn't seriously talking about harming my brother, was she? That was going much too far. He wasn't perfect, true, but who of us was? He would grow out of his rebellious stage, surely.

"You have to admit," Bellatrix continued, her dark eyes flashing, "Sirius isn't very well suited to the job. It might be in the family's interest to have him…replaced."

Sissy nodded solemnly. "You should see him, Reggie. I have classes with him occasionally. He is always sitting in the back of the classroom with his stupid friend, the one with the glasses, an uncouth, unwashed good-for-nothing if I ever saw one. They don't even pay attention to the lectures. They must've gotten detention at least ten times this year already. If my companions didn't already know he was my cousin, I would deny having anything to do with him!"

"You're not going to hurt him, are you?" I cried, leaping to my feet. "He didn't do anything… he…"

"Oh, silly baby," Bellatrix laughed. She had a high, piercing laugh. "We're just teasing, of course." She ruffled my hair, but I felt disconcerted.

We were interrupted by Sirius coming into the room, grinning. Placing himself in a large, plush chair in the center of the room, he reached a hand into the inner folds of his robes and withdrew several bottles of Butterbeer. He must have snitched them from the cellar. Setting these on the floor in front of him, he announced, "I got these for us," and commenced opening one of the bottles and taking a sip.

"What a little thief," Bellatrix commented, almost proudly, and took a bottle herself. As it was New Year's Eve, our parents usually gave us a glass of some bubbling drink at midnight, but it was only one glass, and anyway, I thought it tasted funny and never drank mine. Butterbeer sounded like a much more interesting beverage. Sirius had told me at Christmas how he and his mate, James was his name, I think, had managed to pinch some from a fourth-year returning from Hogsmeade around Halloween and had, therefore, gotten their first taste. He said it was good.

As I reached out to take a bottle of my own, a hand grasped my wrist. "Reggie!" Sissy tapped my nose with a finger of her free hand. "You're much too young to be drinking!"

"You're too young, too," Bellatrix pointed out as her little sister took the bottle I had been reaching for. "You're all too young. Babies, all of you," she pronounced.

Sissy looked offended, said, "I'm twelve!" and pouted. Sirius grunted.

"Let him have one," he said. "I got enough for everyone. It's a party, by Merlin." Still, Sissy turned up her little nose and grabbed all the remaining bottles, hauling them back to her chair.

I was so angry, I felt like crying, but I knew Sirius would just make fun of me if I did, and since he had sided with me, I didn't want to annoy him for any reason. Instead, I crossed my arms and wrinkled my nose. "Here, Reggie," Sirius said, standing and offering me his half-empty bottle. At this, I couldn't stop it: a tear trickled down my face. "You're such a big baby," Sirius groaned. "You don't even deserve it." But he gave me the bottle anyway. Then he stomped back to the door. "You are all a bunch of ninnies," he proclaimed before waltzing off.

I tried to salvage the situation by drinking my Butterbeer but Bellatrix howled with laughter and said, "Look at the little dear! Thinks he's all grown up, does he?" Sissy pouted and tried to take my drink away from me. At last I couldn't stand it anymore. Hoping Sirius would still be slightly well-disposed towards me, I rushed off to find him. Oddly, he wasn't anywhere to be found.

It took some time of searching before I finally spied him on the third story in my Uncle Claudius' private library, crouched in a corner with his nose in a book. I had avoided looking in this room several times because it was invariably off limits to us children. Still, after confirming that my brother was nowhere else to be found… and then I had discovered that the normally locked door had apparently been forced open through the use of a curious magical device that I didn't understand. I was very surprised to find him there, nonetheless. Cautiously, I crept forward until I could read the title of his book: Children of the Night: Wolves and their many forms. I really couldn't fathom why Sirius was reading such a big, old tomb, and even less why he was surrounded by several dusty books with titles like Malicious Monsters, Werewolves: A complete guide, and Moon Phases for Beginners.

"What are you…" I didn't even get to finish my question. Sirius leapt up, slammed his book shut, and backed defensively against the shelves behind my uncle's desk.

"You," he hissed, grey eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"That was my question," I retorted, but he only scowled in reply. "I just wanted to see…" I began again, wanting desperately to patch up my offense.

"What are you two doing in my father's study?" Bellatrix's cold, harsh voice cut through my explanation. She was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips; I had left the door open, and she must have noticed. Sirius glared at me.

"We're playing hide n' seek," I lied quickly. I felt bad lying to Bellatrix, but I was in a panic.

"And you decided to break in to a locked room to hide?" she hissed.

"We're sorry," I cried, rushing forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius slip one of the smaller books into his robe's pocket. I don't think Bellatrix noticed. "I thought it would be a good place to hide…"

Bellatrix didn't look convinced. "Get out," she commanded. "It's midnight, you fools. It's time for our toast. Where is Ann?"

"Ann?" Sirius drew up to us. "I haven't seen her since the feast."

"Me neither," I murmured, as a revelation dawned on me. "And I searched the whole house, just now… looking for Sirius, you know."

"She must be with our parents," Sirius suggested, but Bellatrix shook her head.

"She's not. I've just been there. They sent me to find you. And her."

The three of us searched the house together, but Ann was nowhere to be found.

Three hours later she still hadn't turned up. I fell asleep in Sirius' lap while the adults yelled at each other and stalked about. I woke up every now and again from troubled dreams and Sirius patted my head. I thought about the day almost two years ago when Ann had met with her man friend in the garden. I had never spoken of it to anyone, but I still remembered vividly her mentioning leaving us, her family, forever. At the thought of it, my old fears resurfaced and I began to cry.

"Hush, Reggie," Sirius muttered.

"She's left us forever, hasn't she?" I sobbed. "She's gone off because she loves that man more than she loves us!" Tears streamed down my face.

Sirius shook me roughly and said, "Don't do that now," but I could see that his own eyes were watery and his eyebrows were furrowed, his expression pained.

"Why doesn't she love us?" I asked, staring intently at my older brother, demanding that he give me the answers. After a few brave moments, he pursed his lips and big, wet tears rolled down his cheeks. But he didn't answer.

I never saw my cousin Andromeda again.