Sorry about the long wait for updates. As I mentioned I went on vacation, and while I was there my hard drive bought it. That was followed by a whole list of other computer problems. I hope things are resolved now, but I'm using a different word processor so I apologize if there are formatting problems.

Chapter 24 - The Nature of Magic

That holiday we didn't go home to the usual round of parties and celebrations, but to a funeral. Uncle Alphard had died unexpectedly while abroad, and word had arrived just before our parents came to get us at the station. We knew better than to press for information, and so got only the vague comment that it had been his heart. My father was stoic as ever, apparently unmoved, but it was Aunt Walburga who seemed to be the most affected. I was surprised because not only had I never heard her speak of him with anything but mild disapproval, but also because I had assumed she didn't possess anything resembling human emotions. We were told rather sharply to be quiet and not be a bother while we were at Grimmauld Place.

Though he might have been eccentric and a bit of a rebel, Uncle Alphard had always stopped just short of going too far and was still a Black, and so his funeral included all the due ceremony, with the entire pureblood world in attendance. Aunt Walburga was dry-eyed and composed again, for however she might have felt, the rules of how one acted in public were absolute. Blacks were traditionally buried at one of the family estates in the far north of the country that was rarely used, probably because it was so far from any civilization. I wouldn't have expected that that was what he would have wanted, but it was tradition, and I was hardly close enough to him to be in a position to know, so I said nothing.

It was a bitterly cold day, overcast and windy as we stood outside. I felt rather like we were going through the motions of what was appropriate when he really wouldn't have cared either way who gave speeches and what sort of proper ceremony was observed, it all felt rather fake to me. Whatever had been important to him, I highly doubted it was here in England in the strict pureblood world we lived in, and yet unlike Sirius and eventually myself, he might have strayed from the family line, and yet he always came back, so perhaps there had been something here that mattered to him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone in a dark cloak lingering in the shadow of a tree, staying carefully out of sight, perfectly still and not making any effort to come closer. I almost said something to Bella, standing next to me, but then I realized I knew the way he leaned against the trunk of the tree, hands in his pockets with the easy carelessness that was the trademark of one person I knew. I caught his eye even from a distance and gave him a weak smile, and Sirius acknowledged me with a small nod. When I looked back again, he had gone, but I wasn't surprised that he had come. The conversation I'd had with Sirius over the previous winter holiday had made it seem like they were far closer than I had ever imagined.

After the funeral there was a reception. I've since learned that this is a tradition in the muggle world as well, and it still strikes me as odd that we'd mark the passing of a life with coffee and little sandwiches and inane small talk. I didn't feel like making conversation with anyone, and I knew I was being inexcusably rude to everyone who tried to talk to me, but I couldn't quite swallow the fact that aside from the lack of music and the subdued color of everyone's clothing, it might have been any other party. To avoid my mother's dirty looks for being rude, I finally stepped outside despite the cold. It was winter, and so dark though it was only early evening. I wrapped my arms around myself against the cold and looked over the landscape, which was beautiful in a stark, barren sort of way. For a second, I thought it was only the sound of the wind, but as the wind died down I realized I was not the only person to have escaped outside, there was definitely somebody else around the corner where the terrace steps led down to a park that sloped down to a frozen lake.

I stepped softly around the corner and found someone sitting on the steps, a woman by her size, dark robes making her nearly invisible against the night, her head bent and resting on the palm of her hand. My better instincts told me to leave and go back inside- outside on a freezing December night was not somewhere you came for company, they had clearly wanted to be alone. But despite my better instincts, I took another step forward.

"Are you all right?"

The figure started and looked up, and I saw it was Mrs. Wilkes. For a moment I was shocked into speechlessness, for all the many ways she was different than my mother, I still considered them of the same social status- weakness and emotion were forbidden. She wasn't crying, but her face was not composed in its usual blank expression either.

"Oh, Andromeda, Dear," she said, sounding relieved at being caught only by me. "Yes, I'm all right, thank you, Dear."

"Can I get you anything, Ma'am? It's very cold out here."

"No Andromeda, thank you. I just needed to get out of all that. Needed some fresh air."

I was torn between discomfort at her strange behavior, and curiosity. I didn't go back inside, but instead sat on the steps next to her.

"I didn't know you knew my Uncle."

"We're the same age. We were both in Slytherin. Of course I did."

That was perfectly logical- the wizarding world was small and the elite pureblood circles even smaller.

"I've always thought he was lucky," she said randomly, talking to me, I suspect simply because I happened to be there and she liked me in a general way. "He always wanted to travel, to see the world. He used to talk about the places he'd go- Africa, India, Mexico. In school, he used to tell stories about them- stories he read, or maybe just made them up. He was a wonderful storyteller."

"I know."

She smiled faintly at me. "He never really fit in in Slytherin, at least not the way Walburga and Cygnus did, but when he would start to tell a story everyone would listen. And as it turns out he did exactly what he wanted- he traveled and read and studied. Met all kinds of people from different worlds, magical and muggle. I always thought he was lucky. I realize now it had nothing to do with luck, it was courage. He was brave enough to do what he wanted despite everything. Despite everyone."

"Do you think he was happy?" I asked.

"He was happier than most," she said with a certainty that I couldn't understand. How would she know? "He was doing what he dreamed of."

"He gave up something for it," I said, remembering my conversation with Sirius.

"We all make choices. We all have regrets," she said, turning to look at me, and then went on with a seemingly unrelated topic. "I love my children, you know. Timothy…you don't know him, he's older. He's strong, clever, proud. A fine, pureblood man. His father is proud of him. Annabelle is so sweet. So pretty. And so content. She'll be happy. She expects what is expected of her. It's nice, when it works that way. She'll be happy," she finished, and sighed. As though she wanted to be sure I believed her, said again. "I love my children."

I wasn't sure what to say. I believed her, but I felt as though she was giving me that as excuse for not being happy herself. She had given up what she wanted, but she loved her children.

"That's enough? It's worth it?"

She shrugged. "How can I say, what's worth it or not for anyone else? Stolen moments can never be enough, but would I give up Timothy and Annabelle for a lifetime? There's no point in wondering." She gave me a wry smile. "You're a clever girl, Andromeda. Not really a girl anymore I suppose, you're Annabelle's age, seventeen? Or almost?"

"This summer, Ma'am."

She gave me a shrewd look. "You've become a beautiful woman Andromeda," she chuckled softly. "Well, of course…"

"Of course what?"

"You have that look," she said decisively, and then in response to my confused expression, explained. "You're always more beautiful when you're in love. It's odd, it's not a scientific theory, but I've never known it to be wrong either. It's just the nature of the magic. And you, Andromeda Black, are in love."

"That's not…I'm not…I'm not even…that's ridiculous."

"Yes, yes, I'm being ridiculous. You may dismiss it as the rambling of a dramatic old woman," she dismissed the comment with an understanding smile. "That happens when you get to be my age, perhaps senility is setting in," she said, though she was not really all that old. "And what silliness I'm keeping you out here in the cold. You'll catch your death, my Dear. And we don't want to be missed, either of us."

We walked back toward the house, and as we reached the door she placed a hand on my shoulder, and said my name, and then hesitated.

"I won't…say anything," I said awkwardly, guessing at what she wanted to say.

She nodded slightly. "Thank you. And Andromeda… Alphard always said that things have a way of working out for the best. Sometimes, they don't just work out. Sometimes you have to make things happen."

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It was strange, but the death of our Uncle had brought about a thaw between myself and my own sisters. Narcissa had been unusually cold after she confronted me about seeing me around Hogwarts talking to Ted. I should have known better, I knew Narcissa better than most, possibly better than anyone, and I should have known better than to underestimate her, but I was so wrapped up in the fascination, the absolute euphoria, of a new romance. I knew what her coldness was about, and I tried to pretend I didn't. Bella was not cold to me intentionally, so much as distracted by the dark world she had slipped away into. Narcissa and I had both tried to ignore it, but I think we both knew. In any case, Aunt Walburga's obvious grief at losing her brother seemed to have reminded Bella that whatever her new devotion to the Dark Lord, she had loved us before. She was suddenly affectionate again, and I hate to admit how easily I fell into the false sense of security with her. She seemed like her old self before she had fallen under Lord Voldemort's spell, and I wanted that to be true, and so I just accepted it- Bella was back, and I had missed her. Narcissa seemed to forget her anger at me as well, and that was as much a relief.

It was the night after the funeral, and I was thinking if my brief glimpse of Sirius, of the strange and surprising conversation with Mrs. Wilkes, who I had clearly underestimated. I was in my own world and staring out the window at weak moonlight when Narcissa came creeping into my room, and curled up at the foot of bed, looking serious. What she asked seemed like a complete non-sequiter, but I was pretty sure love had been on her mind for awhile, and Merlin forbid Narcissa Black seem the least bit uncertain or frightened to anyone but her sisters.

"Andy, have you ever been in love?"

I smirked. "I told you, mad sexy affair with the Minister of Magic…"

She smiled, as Bella spoke from the doorway, closing the door softly behind her. "Don't be silly Cissy, love is just for fairy tales."

She strolled across the room, and I felt inexplicably happy. It was just like years before, all of us together, not spending even a night separate. Bella sat next to Cissy, draping herself over our sister's shoulder with her trademark languid movements, and for a moment they were both disarmingly beautiful- black hair against gold, dark against light. Narcissa seemed to relax into her, curl up into Bella's arms.

"You don't really believe that," Narcissa accused gently. "You love Rodolphus."

Bella chuckled softly. "I respect him, of course. I like him enormously. Certainly, I'm attracted to him, " she added, with a raise of her eyebrows. "But love? That's supposed to mean you'd do anything for them?" She shook her head sharply. "No, that's nonsense for children's stories."

"You lie, " I said, emboldened by the return to our younger selves. "You do love him."

She turned a curious look on me, and it was only then that I realized how oblivious she had been the previous term, barely noticing anything that went on around her. For though she was rarely as good at noting subtleties as Narcissa, she always seemed to know everything about me.

"A sudden belief in true love Andy?" she said, a little mockingly. Narcissa looked suddenly alert and I felt a flash of foreboding she would say something, and tried to cover.

"I've seen how you look at him, is all."

"That, my duck, is just sex," she said easily.

Narcissa looked as though she desperately wanted to elaborate that conversation, but when Bella didn't offer anything further, she frowned and then let it go. It was late, a long exhausting day fraught with emotions whether related to Uncle Alphard's death or our own uncertainties, and we were tired. I felt a sort of peace at falling asleep with Bella and Narcissa near me, something I had lost a long time ago, but it would be short-lived.

It was well after midnight when I woke up again because Narcissa stirred. She sighed, but didn't wake, and that's when I noticed Bella was gone. I didn't think anything of it immediately, it was normal for Bella. But as I lay there I wondered what she was up to. Perhaps the sudden return of a closeness between us made me brave enough to look for her even though I should have known I wouldn't find anything good.

She was in her own room, a fire absolutely blazing so it licked into every corner of the room, throwing strange and sinister shadows around. When I stepped into her room, she was kneeling in front of the fire with her back to me, muttering something under hear breath that didn't sound at all like English. I didn't say anything or even make a sound, but a second later she turned and looked directly at me as though she expected me to be there.

"Come here," she said quietly, almost gently. "I'll show you."

It was foolish. I knew what the dark arts looked like and the shiver of magic in the air. Really, I knew even then what she was and what she had done. And yet it was Bella. When we had been children Bella would curl up on the floor before the fire with the books she took from the library, our Father's books that we knew were forbidden. Dark head bent over the yellow pages, her lips moving silently, learning spells that she hadn't then even been able to use. I wanted to feel like this was the same thing, but I knew this was not just curiosity.

When I didn't move from the doorway, she turned and looked at me again.

"Andromeda, come here."

It was unmistakably a command. It had been years since I had let Bella command me like that, but a sort of morbid curiosity combined with my wanting to preserve our brief truce made me step into the room and let the door click shut. As I came around her, she was kneeling in front of a shallow silver basin. It was tiny, no more than six inches across, carved with shapes that looked like something we might see in ancient runes, but were not symbols I knew despite three years of the class.

"What is that?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she said pensively. "I found it in Uncle Alphard's things."

"Bellatrix!"

"Oh what! Really Andy, it's not as though he'll miss it."

Distasteful as it was, she was right.

"What is it?"

"I think it's from India," she said, in that particular Bella way of answering a question without actually answering the question I'd asked. I was near enough for her to grab my hand, and she pulled me down next to her. I couldn't see Uncle Alphard getting mixed up in the Dark Arts, but it didn't look like something you might pick up on a stroll through Diagon Alley. Then again, it wouldn't be unlike him to pick up something he just thought was interesting, and figure it would be fun to see what it did and what spells were on it. I wasn't at all comfortable with Bella mucking around with unidentified magical objects.

"Are you sure you should-"

"Shhh. Let me see your hand."

"What?"

"Your hand," she said impatiently, grabbing my wrist. Not realizing what was going on, I was stupid enough to let her hold my hand, palm up, in hers, as though she might place something in it. I had a second to notice our hands were exactly alike, impossible to tell apart. I saw the flash of silver too late, as she slashed across my palm with a dagger. I didn't react immediately, instead frozen in horror as blood welled over my hand.

As soon as it splattered on the silver dish, there was a sudden flash of light that knocked us both back. I wasn't hurt, but too shocked to say anything for a moment, but Bella picked herself up, cursing violently.

"What happened?" I demanded, when she asked if I was all right.

"Nothing," she spat, biting her lip and scowling.

"What was supposed to happen?" I said, voice shaking slightly, both afraid and absolutely furious.

"Doesn't matter, obviously he undid the spells on it. Damn," she said, flinging down both her wand and the silver dagger in frustration, seeming oblivious to the blood still on her hands. She glanced at me, "Oh you're all right Andy, it's just a little cut, it can't have hurt that much. I knew it wasn't going to hurt you."

"You did not, you had no idea what it was going to do!"

"Shh, you'll wake up Mother and Father."

"Bella, how can you…I won't do things like this. I won't do this kind of magic, I don't want anything to do with this, and you can't use me…"

She regarded me quietly for a moment. "You shouldn't be scared of it Andy. You could be powerful…"

I turned and walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

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The next day it felt like it might have all been a very bad dream, except for the shallow cut on my hand.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing."

Hadrian rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to start with that particular bit of passive-aggressive female behavior."

"Excuse me?"

He had come over with his father who had stepped by on some bit of business, and although I was usually glad to see him, I really didn't feel like talking or being social. His father and my mother had exchanged a significant look that suggested they were already mentally composing the guest list for our wedding. Based on my restless need to get out of the house, we had taken Sirius's rather creative tactic of sitting on the roof, with a frequently bolstered warming charm it wasn't too bad.

"I ask Abby what's wrong, and she says "nothing" in that particular way and I am to understand that something is wrong and it's my fault and I had better start guessing at what it is I did to piss her off. I put up with it from her, but since I have no interest in sleeping with you, I'm less willing to play this game in your case."

I didn't know Abigail Goldstein well then, and I never really did get to know her because she never stopped seeing me as a rival and would never end up alone in a room with me long enough for me to assure her that I had no designs in Hadrian. I didn't know her family very well either, but I had heard that her father had not long before lost a great deal of money in some business deals gone bad. It had occurred to me that either she was the most mercurial woman in the world (and that is saying something coming from the sister of Bellatrix Black) or sure was unsure how she really felt about him and possibly was more fond of his Gringott's account than she was of him. Because I was his friend, I didn't say this. I thought he could do better, but he had his heart set on her.

"Good to know, but I am not being passive-aggressive, and it certainly has nothing to do with you."

"Is it the boy?"

"Why do you assume that?" I snapped.

"A sixteen-year-old girl being irrational over a boy! Who would think of such nonsense? Why I've never heard of such a thing!"

"That sounds just a little bit sexist coming from Mr. Angsting-because-my-girlfriend-won't-talk-to-me. Anyway, don't bother. Your feelings on the subject are known."

"That's not true Andy. Or rather…you know how I feel but it's not for the reasons you think," he leaned back and folded his arms behind his head, closing his eyes lazily. "I don't know the guy, but I really don't care about the mudblood…sorry, muggle-born…thing. I can see some of their reasoning…" he held up a hand, as though knowing I was going to protest even though his eyes remained closed. "Andy, I do think they're worried about the wrong things, and going way too far, but that's not the point here. Essentially, you wouldn't be involved with him if he wasn't a decent guy."

"So then why the vague but obvious disapproval?"

"Why would you do something that seems like nothing but potential for you to get hurt? Andy, you can have almost any guy you want. Why choose the one who's just going to piss off your family, when I don't see how it can work out anyway, when you're from totally different worlds."

"That's not true…"

"It's a pretty thought Andy, but love really doesn't conquer all. It's hard enough making a relationship work without adding all that to it. It's not that I'm buying into all the pureblood rhetoric, it's just that I think you'd make your own life easier if you picked someone who wasn't so different from you."

When I didn't answer immediately, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me.

"Oh no…you're not."

"What?"

"You're not in love with him, are you?"

"I don't know."

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees. "Well, that's a whole different problem."

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My father was not a weak man, but he was the youngest of three children, and he rarely raised his voice to anyone but my Mother. The youngest brother to Alphard and Walburga, and married to a Rosier woman with her own pride, he rarely looked for a fight. I could only assume that due to her force of personality, Aunt Walburga had always ruled her brothers, and my father had accepted that. I had never heard him defy her, but three days later they had a row that would make its way into family history.

Uncle Alphard's will was read three days after his death, in the possession of the family solicitor as was proper, he had clearly thought ahead. As my Uncle Orion was the oldest male heir of the family, important family assets were his to pass through the male line. Ultimately, our manor house would pass to the male line as well, the Black family assets were protected by spells that had no consideration for women as heirs- women were not heirs, merely the mothers of more male heirs. But Uncle Alpahrd knew his magic well enough, and the spells on his will were ironclad, a large part of the considerable Black fortune that was his went to Sirius Black. I allowed myself a small, secret smile when I heard of this, because I remembered Narcissa's comment that Sirius was not cut out for poverty, and now he would never have to worry about that. The Black family fortune might be lost to Sirius, but thanks to Uncle Alphard, he had a new start.

Aunt Walburga flew into a rage, and had a legendary row with my Father in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place that we could hear even from the stairs where we sat with Regulus, not wanting to listen but not willing to leave Reggie there alone.

"Damn it Walburga, it doesn't matter anymore," my Father roared.

"He betrayed this family. He betrayed me, Cygnus, by giving gold to that ungrateful little blood traitor," she screamed back.

"It's all your pride then? You'd take your brother out of our history, out of our lives, our world, for your pride?"

"Blacks understand honor. My blood-traitor of a son didn't, and neither did Alphard. He doesn't deserve our history, our name, or a place in our family," she cried, with a sudden flash we could see from the stairs. I knew Uncle Alphard was no longer on the family tree, and I had to get out of the house.

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"Andy?"

Ted looked shocked as he opened the door. He had not expected to see me over the holiday, we had agreed to that, but he had especially not expected to see me showing up at the door of his muggle home. He looked for a moment incredibly pleased, and then worried. "What's wrong?"

He pulled me inside, away from curious muggle eyes of neighbors, and I protested weakly, "I shouldn't have come, your family, and…"

"It's all right, they're at my Dad's office Christmas party," he assured, drawing me against his chest. "What's wrong?"

"My Uncle died…" I said, although that was not the only thing, it was the simplest and easiest to articulate. He kissed the top of my head, and I felt just a little better burying my face in his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "He's the one you liked, wasn't he?"

I nodded, still pressing my face in his shoulder. "Not only that. She took him off the family tree, and Bella, there was all this blood, and Cissy knows and she's going to tell, and I don't want to be unhappy like Mrs. Wilkes…"

He rubbed the back of my neck. "Andy, I have no idea what you're talking about, but it's okay. It will be okay. We'll manage it…"

It was his assurance that it would be okay, and his use of the collective pronoun, actually made me feel a little better even though it didn't solve anything. He released me, and though I didn't want to, I let go of him, keeping close to him. He pushed me gently into the kitchen.

"I'll make you some tea, that's what my Mum does when something's wrong. Tell me what happened," he said, pressing me down gently into a chair. Haltingly, and leaving out Mrs. Wilkes accusations about being in love, I told him everything else, and he listened quietly, without interrupting.

He set a cup on the table, and drew me to my feet gently. It started with a light kiss, intending to soothe more than anything, but I clung to him, bringing him closer. He whispered my name against my lips, to stop me or encourage me I wasn't sure, but I silenced him again, sliding my hands up his chest. At that moment I didn't want to talk about everything, I just wanted to feel, to be close to him. I felt a sort of desperation to not let the moment get away, to have him understand that I wanted him, that I wouldn't end up like the women I knew.

Sometimes you have to make things happen.

He drew back from kissing me and I started to protest, but it was only to trace soft little kisses along my jaw and down my throat, finding a place just under my ear that made me gasp and shiver. Impatiently, I slid my hands under his t-shirt, and at the sudden shock of hands on skin he gasped "Andy, Andy wait…"

"But…"

"No wait…" he said, and took a step away from me resolutely despite his own quickened breathing and flushed skin. "Andy, as much as I really don't want to be the voice of reason now… this isn't a good idea."

At that moment, blood pounding and still almost feeling warm skin under my fingertips, it seemed like an excellent idea to me. "What?"

He shook his head, running a hand over his face, the other hand on my shoulder, holding me at arm's length. "Look, it's not that I don't…Andy, you're upset, and if we rush this you're going to regret it, and I don't want that."

"That's not true!" I was furious he thought I had some other motive. "Is it really so impossible that I might know what I want?"

He gave a smile without much humor. "If you think I don't…believe me Andy, that's not the case. But when this happens it's going to be about us, not about getting back at your family."

I shook off his hand on my shoulder. "How can you even say that?"

"Because you're angry at them Andromeda! You're angry at Bellatrix for what sounds like some very illegal dark magic. You're angry at your parents for taking your Uncle off the family tree because you think it's unfair. You're angry at Narcissa for threatening you. You're angry at them Andy, you're looking to show them," he sighed, and I was torn between wanting to touch him again and wanting to slap him.

"You think this is all about showing my family?" I demanded and he didn't step back. "Everything, this last few months- hell years Ted- has all been some big plot to embarrass the noble and most ancient house?"

"Oh for God's sake Andromeda, of course not," he snapped. I didn't think I'd ever heard him raise his voice before, not to me. "You have to give me some credit for knowing you just a little bit, for having learned a few things about you over the years. I think right now, at this moment, you're trying to make a point." He released my shoulder and laid a hand against my cheek instead, and I didn't pull away immediately. "The thing is Andy, you don't have anything to prove to me."

"But I want…"

He put a hand over my mouth, cutting me off. "We're this far, we'll get there."

I moved his hand away and kissed him again, but lightly and briefly. He caught both of my hands to keep me from getting too close.

"Okay, okay," I sat down again, resting my forehead on my hands, and then ran them briskly through my hair, sitting up. "I'm sorry, it's been a bad few days. I don't usually fall apart."

He smiled a little. "I've never seen you fall apart Andy, and you're allowed to once," he said, sitting across from me. We were almost absurdly proper, but there was something to what he'd said…I'd had enough emotional upheaval in the past few days without making any major decisions. "What are you going to do?"

I gave him a puzzled look. "Do?"

"Your sister," he clarified as though that explained it all. "Bellatrix…"

In over thirty years we've known each other and in over twenty years we've been married, it still makes him nervous when I call her Bella. The obvious nickname, it's a familiarity that he thinks I shouldn't have with the woman she ultimately became, but to me she was always Bella, and never the evil Bellatrix Lestrange that the rest of the world knew.

When I still had no idea what he was saying, he said patiently, "You're going to tell someone…"

"Of course not! If I tell someone she'll get in trouble."

He rubbed his forehead as though he was getting a headache. "Yes, that's rather the point. You can't let her get away with this, like it's nothing. For God's sake Andromeda, she cut you trying to activate some dark blood spell! That's not normal behavior. Not to mention enormously illegal!"

I stared him down. "She's my sister."

"She could have hurt you!"

"She wasn't going to hurt me Ted," I said, with conviction that I had no reason to feel. He didn't know her, and he had no reason to believe me, and yet it's something I've always known.

"Andy, that's dark magic."

He looked deeply troubled at what he thought was my being unreasonable, while I was struggling with a number of ideas that I had never considered before. It had always been that my family might not approve of him. Never before had it crossed my mind, or even his perhaps, that he might not approve of my family. It wasn't something I hadn't encountered before…it was generally known that my family, like many of the old pureblood families, dabbled in the dark arts. There were murmurs about it, but I had been mostly sheltered from it for a very simple reason. Money can buy, if not respectability, at least the veneer of it. Indeed, Lucius Malfoy would raise that particular concept to an art after the First War. But Ted wasn't worried about offending me by being honest…and least not enough to ignore it.

He wasn't wrong…I knew more about dark magic than most girls my age. Some of it was simply the result of growing up in my family, I had absorbed it without trying. Bella pursued everything she could find about the dark arts, and I read the same things as her. I hadn't pursued it the way she did, I had no desire to find out if I could use the spells or not. Some of it was an honest interest in magic, in the intellectual side of it, the origins of it, and there was more to magic than levitating and changing cats into handbags.

Ted was forcing me to consider for the first time, the moral ambiguity that my family allowed, even encouraged, under the banner of being pureblood and superior. The rules didn't apply to us, they were for lesser mortals. Ted had always had an unshakable sense of right and wrong, and he was strong enough that he didn't let anything, not even me, change what he believed. He never asked me to change, but he did ask me to look at myself and what I had always accepted without much thought, and forced me to examine everything. In my family, we were told what to believe and it was expected we would never really wonder why we believed it, or if it was true. It was a part of growing up I suppose, but it also terrified me.

"You don't understand," I said finally.

"No, and I'm trying to, but when it comes to Bellatrix you're a different person."

I shook my head. "I can't deal with this now."

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It was stupid of me to storm out like I had and to take off for several hours. It was obvious I would be missed, but our household was in disarray and our parents too wrapped up in their own battles to really care whether or not I was there. If someone asked where I had been, I knew Marlene or Hadrian would lie for me. I was prepared to answer to my parents or even to Bella. I was not prepared to find Narcissa sitting on the steps, alone. To everyone else, she seemed cold. I had never thought that about her, able to see past the glacial exterior, and for the first time I couldn't. For the first time the look she gave me was just as cold and disgusted as she might give a stranger. I was upset and in no mood to deal with reprimands from my little sister, and so I tried to brush past her, but she grabbed my wrist with an iron grip.

"I told you to stop. I told you to stay away from that boy."

I opened my mouth to argue, to say I didn't know what she was talking about, that I didn't know what she meant, but she didn't even let me get that far.

"I'm telling."