A/N: Welcome back! I'm really sorry it's taken so long to upload but believe it or not these entries take a long time to write. I've also been very busy in my life away from fanfiction (incredibly, it does actually exist) as well as my regular uploads of The Cat Chronicles - which you should read by the way if you haven't so check it out.

Right. Enough with the shameless plugging of my own work and my excuses.

Enjoy :)

Entry Three

My usually peaceful Saturday morning had been brusquely interrupted by one smiling Ted Tonks, who had decided to knock on my front door like an impatient child. It was most unfortunate that he attempted to try the door handle and then branded himself as door knob had recently been in the habit of burning any unwanted visitor who tried to open the front door. This skill was incredibly recent in fact, though of course I had no notion as to why it had taken it upon itself to ward away undesired company. However, even with a scorched hand, Tonks had persisted and pounded the door as though he were a herd of hippopotami hammering their way across the Sahara. Had it not been Tonks eroding my front door, I would perhaps have been impressed by their perseverance to be let inside, though why anyone would be so excited by the prospect of entering I was unsure.

Nevertheless, I opened the door and Tonks, with the momentum from his knocking catching up, barrelled into me, causing us to fall to the floor. I attempted to extricate myself from his suspiciously warm body considering it was December but found him too heavy. While I contemplated hexing him, Tonks rolled off me, blushing fiercely, and took to mumbling a whole plethora of apologies. We got to our feet and I brushed down my clothing with cold indifference, endeavouring to barricade the entrance to my ears so that I would not have to hear his omnipresent blabbering.

'I'm so so so sorry, Dromeda!' he was exclaiming while I failed to deafen myself. 'I was just caught up in knocking on the door and then all of a sudden you pulled it open but I'd just leaned back to give myself more swing for knocking so I just moved forwards and I'm really sorry. Seriously, Dromeda, I'm really really sorry. I-'

'Why are you here?' I asked emotionlessly, interrupting his grovelling.

'I-What? Oh, I'm here 'cos I, well the Auror office, need your help.' He straightened himself and puffed out his chest importantly. 'On behalf of Alastor Moody, head of th-'

'I am perfectly aware of who Alastor Moody is.' I snapped, shutting the front door with a furtive glance around my front garden.

''Course… Well, we've come into possession of a few Dark objects that we need to have identified. Kingsley said you know this kind of stuff and suggested that I go and ask for your help.' Tonks fixed me with a sheepish smile which I did not return.

'It would not be prudent for me to be seen entering the Ministry of Magic with an Auror and a Muggle-born one at that.' I responded coolly. Tonks nodded enthusiastically and I eyed him in disgust, appalled by his eagerness. Why he was always so excitable about everything vexed me greatly.

'That's what I thought,' he informed me proudly and my lip curled in displeasure, masking the astonishment I felt at the fact that Tonks could apparently think. 'So, I brought them with me!'

And to my great alarm, he produced three jet black orbs from his coat pocket, holding them in his naked hands. The imbecile had put his exposed shin in contact with a set of unknown cursed objects and judging by his idiotic expression, he had seen no issue with his actions.

'I thought Auror's were chosen for their bravery and intelligence; it seems I was mistaken.' I drawled, producing my wand and summoning the three orbs so that they levitated before me. Tonks, however, did not look at all offended by my statement rather he laughed jocundly and clapped me on the back. I recoiled and swept into the kitchen, bringing both Tonks and the orbs with me.

A few hours later and we had made little progress, though the fault lay entirely with Tonks. He seemed to have made it his personal mission to distract me as much as possible by singing or humming or drumming his fingers incessantly on the kitchen work top in a way that made my brain pound itself into a liquid mess. It also appeared his stupidity extended to misinterpreting my irritated glares and sighs as jests to entertain him rather than my endless endeavours to ward him away from me. Tonks lacked the knowledge of personal space it transpired for he sat so close to me that we were practically connected via our arms and every so often he would lean across my face to examine my work meaning I would get a waft of his mint scented cologne which clung to my nostrils and caused a slight headache each time he did this.

As the grandfather clock in my dining room hailed the new hour and announced it to be 2.00 pm. I gratefully got up from my seat and stepped into a space not yet invested by Tonks' scent. For a moment I simply inhaled the clean air deeply and then turned to face Tonks.

'I have to pick up my cousin from the station.' I informed him and used my wand to summon my coat.

'But we haven't finished yet!' Tonks cried, looking strangely heartbroken. It always astounded me how difficult to understand he was despite his completely transparent personality.

'That is of course a valid reason to leave my cousin waiting at the station for another few hours.' I responded dryly and began to walk out of the kitchen.

'The Auror office need these objects by the end of the day.' he said in an attempt to persuade me. I need hardly add he failed miserably.

'Then we still have 10 hours.' I snapped and pulled on my coat. He didn't move, evidently under the impression he would simply await my return in the kitchen. I scoffed and grabbed the sleeve of his robes, summoning his coat which I stuffed roughly into his hands, and then dragged him into my hallway.

'I could just wait here.'

'And have one of my family members find you? I think not.' Then we Disapparated, rematerializing on Platform 9 and ¾. The train had yet to arrive, so I led the way to the wall and observed the other families waiting for their children as Tonks began to babble beside me.

'D'you remember coming home for the Christmas holidays?' he asked with a wide smile that made me sidle slightly away from him; Tonks didn't seem to notice. 'I was always so excited. Seeing my parents again after months away was the best feeling in the world. I think just knowing I'd be with my family for the next 2 weeks was just amazing. I always missed my family slightly at school and I had a calendar in my dorm where I'd cross off the days until I saw my family again.'

'I can't say I ever shared those sentiments.' I murmured but made sure Tonks could not hear me.

'Christmas really has that family feeling though. There's just something about having Christmas dinner with my parents that made it taste 10 times better than anything Hogwarts could ever make.' Tonks let out a loud sigh as though he missed the feeling of travelling home on the train and surprisingly fell silent. Then I realised he was watching me expectantly.

'Yes.' I agreed vaguely and internally cursed the train for not being there yet.

'I know…' he said grinning and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'At Christmas my parents and I take it in turns with whose turn it is to hand out the presents – it's my dad's turn this year. What about you? Who hands out the presents in your house?'

'No one.' I responded, watching the trainless platform fill with more and more parents.

'No one? D'you just summon them then?' Tonks chuckled and I began to examine my nail varnish, deciding the blood red colour was not as pleasant to the eye as I had first decided when painting my nails. With a flick of my wand, the red changed to an incredibly dark green and I nodded my head in approval. Unfortunately, Tonks was still awaiting an answer.

'My gifts are delivered to my house and I open them in my room.' I said and glowered at the way his face fell.

'D-don't you go home for Christmas?'

'I attend the Sacred Twenty-eight Annual Yule Ball.' I told him. 'Not this year, however.'

'What're you doing this year?' he asked and it was obvious he thought me in need of cheering up.

'The Potters have invited myself and my cousin to their Yule Ball. I am acting as my cousin's chaperone to make sure he does not mingle with those… lesser than him.' I noted something flicker in Tonks' eyes that was quite different to his usual merriment; hurt. What made the situation even more abnormal was that guilt seared through my insides. I had in fact lied to Tonks, that I felt no guilt towards, for I had accepted the invitation to the Potters' Yule Ball before knowing of Sirius' invitation deciding I would bring him as my guest but then he had written to me saying he had been invited by the Potters for both the Ball and to celebrate Christmas day. I had informed my Aunt Walburga that I would act as his chaperone thus meaning I could not attend my usual Christmas activity and then told the Potters that Sirius would come in the afternoon on Christmas day for I intended to celebrate in the morning with him. In early November, I had owled Sirius asking for his Christmas list so that I could 'send it to his mother' and then purchased as many of the things on there myself. Not altering the chaperone excuse made it far easier to lie and I knew all about maintaining a lie.

'Oh…' I had left Tonks speechless, a feat I had never achieved before, and yet now that he was silent everything felt strange between us. We were not friends by any means and there had been many occasions on which I thought or said offensive things about him but now he was hurt, and it was my fault. I was not used to this kind of guilt; I had felt guilty about many of the things my sisters and I had caused during school as well as the countless times I had aided the Dark Lord.

'My cousin is good friends with the Potters' son. He was eager to attend their Yule Ball but his mother would not allow it without a chaperone. The Potters are not known amongst our society to be sympathisers with the Sacred Twenty-eight's viewpoint.' I said but Tonks did not speak.

The scarlet steam engine came into view and I took the opportunity to put my lips to Tonks' ear while everyone else was distracted by the arrival of their children.

'I would not be a member of the Order if I agreed with my family.' I said, a little more snappily than I had intended but another wave of his mint cologne had hit me and I hastily stepped back, putting a hand to my forehead as it began to ache. I turned to face the train and scanned the heads of all those younger than me for a small, black-haired male pulling a trunk far heavier than he would ever admit. My eyes soon fell on Sirius and as our eyes met, a smile broke across my usually cold and distant face. He began to speed up, bumping into almost everyone he passed and tugging his trunk with enough force to knock over a cart horse. As he neared me, I knelt down slightly, and he dumped his trunk before throwing his arms around me.

'Dromeda!' he cried, and I placed my arms around him also, hugging him close. 'Hogwarts is wicked! I knew Bella was lying when she said Dumbledore was an idiot. James and I snuck out loads and we found the kitchens! I've eaten so much of the House Elves' chocolate cake!'

'I'm glad you like it so much.' I said quietly as we let go of one another. Straightening up, I scanned him shrewdly. 'I believe you've grown since I last saw you.'

'Really?' he asked excitedly, and I nodded silently. 'Can we measure when we get to yours?'

'Indeed.' Sirius beckoned me closer and I leant down so that he could whisper in my ear.

'Don't look now but there's a random man behind us.' he whispered and then it occurred to me that Tonks was still with us. How fortunate. 'Who're you?' Sirius asked rudely and I coughed. 'Please forgive me for my previous words. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to who exactly you are and why you are standing behind my fair cousin?'

'Better.' I praised and then indicated towards Tonks. 'Sirius, this is Ted Tonks. Tonks, this is my cousin Sirius.'

'A pleasure to meet you, Ted Tonks.' Sirius responded as though someone had injected him with all the manners high society could possibly dream of.

'And you two, son.' Apparently, Tonks had been possessed by a fifty-year-old man. I eyed him with a raised eyebrow and he shrugged sheepishly. Then Sirius made a gagging sound and I turned to face him sharply.

'Ergh, Dromeda, is he your boyfriend?' he asked in disgust. He spoke the last word as though it were a disease and I whole heartedly agreed with him. Tonks let out a hearty laugh and I internally groaned as his usual roar caused everything in the vicinity to vibrate slightly.

'Tonks is my… work colleague. I am assisting him identify a Dark object.' I explained and Sirius' face fell comically.

'Does that mean we're not going to go flying when we get back?' he asked, disappointment lacing his voice.

'Of course we can still go flying.' I reassured him and shot Tonks a threatening glare to let him know that should he dare protest there would be dire consequences. For a pleasant change, he seemed to understand my meaning and he nodded hastily with a slight gulp, which was quite satisfying to watch. 'Tonks will just have to keep us company.'

'All right.' Sirius nodded happily and I went to get his trunk. As I did so, I heard him address Tonks. 'Don't think I don't see you two giving each other puppy eyes! You better be careful with how you treat Dromeda. My parents taught me at least 20 ways to beat a person so watch it!'

Perhaps listening to my cousin was not the best idea. I made eye contact with Narcissa as I began to levitate Sirius' trunk and she smiled at me, to which I responded with a nod, before Disapparating with Lucius. I stared at the spot where she vanished for a while before Tonks' laughter interrupted my thoughts and I was forced to return to the conversation.

Flying with both my cousin and Tonks was not exactly what I deemed a pleasant way to pass my afternoon but at least by the time we unpacked Sirius' things he seemed to be warming to Tonks; I had been fearing the next few hours of Sirius scowling continually which was exactly the opposite of my original plans for the start of his Christmas holidays. We crossed the courtyard towards the stables and collected three broomsticks.

'Dromeda!' Sirius cried happily as he took his off the shelf. 'Did you really get my one from home?'

'Yes.' I responded but did not look at him. The broomstick he was holding was in fact an exact replica of his beloved one that had, once, occupied a significant amount of space in his wardrobe in Number twelve Grimmauld Place but after Sirius had been placed in Gryffindor, my dear aunt Walburga had… disposed of it. But I could not bring myself to tell my younger cousin this and had thus bought him a new broom that was identical to his old one; Sirius need never know the broomstick he held now was far newer than the one he had possessed since my uncle Orion had declared that all strong men of the House of Black must be able to fly.

Tonks and Sirius eagerly kicked off from the ground and I watched them zoom into the air before seating myself side-saddle on my own; I had never to my knowledge felt the ecstasy that others did as the wind rushed past them while they flew upwards and could not for the life of me comprehend why Quidditch caused so many to shriek with joy. In accordance to the Black family rules, females did not indulge in sports and thus I had not been allowed to play Quidditch – perhaps if I had, I would share the sentiments of the jubilant supporters in every stadium across the country. Those spectators were very much like Tonks in a sense: they conversed too loudly and suffered from the ailment of excess euphoria.

I could fly of course. Flying was in fact a category within the expected accomplishments of pureblood witches, but one had to do it with elegance and poise. And that meant riding a broomstick side-saddle. In such a position, one could not go too fast nor could one look unladylike, meaning my mother had yet to faint at the idea of my flying as a mode of transport or simply for leisure. As I reached the same height as Tonks and Sirius, the former chuckled at the sight of me and I glowered in response. Sirius, who was raised in the same way as I, did not view me as a strange sight to behold and excitedly led the way across the moors that rolled along behind my house.

We were not out for long as the winter cold was far stronger than any Warming Charm either Tonks or I could cast. It was not Tonks' shivering that induced me to deem an end to our flying session but that of Sirius, which started about half an hour after Tonks' body took to replicating the effects of drinking a Shaking Solution. When we re-entered my house, I conjured hot chocolates for the three of us and we sipped them as Tonks and I returned to examining the Dark objects he had brought. Sirius sat opposite us watching interestedly as we sent numerous spells at the jet black orbs.

Eventually we came to a conclusion as to what they were, and I sent Tonks on his way, closing the front door behind him with a sigh of relief. I leaned against it for a moment and closed my eyes, breathing in the now Tonks free air of my house.

'Do you like him, Dromeda?' Sirius asked, coming into the hallway, clutching a bar of chocolate he had evidently located in one of the kitchen cabinets. I studied his face; it was entirely innocent and likely more focused on how much of the chocolate bar still remained than my own imperious expression.

'Do you?'

'He's funny.' he said decisively and took a large bite of chocolate. I assumed he intended his definition of funny to mean hilarious and not mad. Opening his mouth to speak again, he shut it again hastily as I looked at him sternly – people speaking with their mouth full was a definite irritant of mine. He swallowed quickly. 'So, do you like him?'

'Not exactly.' I responded carelessly and moved back towards the kitchen. 'I shall begin cooking now so try not to eat too much chocolate. It would be a pity for you to miss dinner.'

'Oooh! What're we eating?'

'Shepherd's pie.'

'YES!' Sirius stuffed the chocolate bar into his pocket and danced his way into the kitchen. With a slight shake of my head, I followed him and spent the rest of the evening listening to all the foolishly amusing endeavours that Sirius had got up to with his friends.

The evening of the Potter's Yule Ball arrived and I stood before my mirror eyeing my dark green dress robes calculatingly. They were made of a rich velvet and had a matching black cape with green lining, with each garment intricately embroidered with Goblin-made silver thread so that as one moved it was as if it created its own luxurious splendour to dazzle spectators with. My hair fell loose down my back and I made no effort to collect my tumbling curls as I examined my appearance. The sleeves of my robes draped lazily over my fingers, aware of their own casual elegance and I sighed before turning and leaving the room.

I knocked on Sirius' door and he opened it, his grey eyes already light with anticipation. He too had dressed smartly, I would not have allowed him to make an appearance otherwise, and when instructed turned slowly on the spot so I could scrutinise his attire. His black dress robes were simple enough in design but made of some of the finest material Galleons could buy. With an approving nod, I led the way downstairs and barely flinched as Kingsley materialised mere centimetres from where I stood.

'Please, do come in.' I remarked dryly.

'Patricia.' he greeted with a nod and I scowled at him. He simply smirked back until he was almost knocked over by the shear force of Sirius hug.

'Kingsley! I haven't seen you in ages!'

'And the same too you.' Kingsley laughed in response, ruffling his hair affectionately. 'I hope you've been terrorising McGonagall with those pranks of yours.'

'Of course I have.' Sirius said, beaming up at Kingsley as he let go.

'Good to hear. We wouldn't want her to be too bored.' The grandfather clock in my dining room interrupted the conversation with a loud boom. 'We'd better get going. Dromeda?' We each took one of Sirius' hands and on the count of three Disapparated reappearing in front of an old, large but friendly looking manner house. Ivy covered a great deal of the front, the green leaves interjected with golden glowing lights at regular intervals. The same coloured lights arched around the double front doors, which were open, revealing an impressive entrance hall. The hall floors were tiled with black and white tiles and around 5 small Christmas trees stood proudly, welcoming in any guests.

But the most inviting things in the hall were the host and hostess themselves, smiling brightly at us. Two house elves were quick to remove our coats and cloaks and I barely had time to thank them before I whisked into Mrs Potter's arms. I did not return the hug but stood uncomfortably frozen for the duration of the embrace.

'Andromeda! How good to see you.' Mrs Potter said as she released me.

'Likewise.' I replied as she smiled wider. 'Thank you for inviting us.'

'Oh, it's nothing!' She waved away my thanks. 'The more the merrier!' I gently brought Sirius forwards and he looked shyly at Mrs Potter, holding out a polite hand. She shook it warmly before pulling him into a tight hug. 'And you must be Sirius.'

'Yes, Mrs Potter.'

'Call me Euphemia, dear,' she told him kindly and he nodded.

'Yes, Mrs Euphemia.' Mrs Potter laughed heartily and ruffled his hair. 'Fleamont! Come and greet Andromeda and Sirius.' Mr Potter, who had been speaking with Kingsley, rolled his eyes but came over and shook my hand enthusiastically before thumping Sirius on the back.

'All right, son?' Sirius nodded again. Noting how surprised he seemed at how glad the Potters were to see him, I felt a pang in my chest. But I didn't have long to dwell on this as, not a second after Kingsley had been hugged by Mrs Potter also, did the next set of guests arrive and I steered Sirius into the ballroom, Kingsley following behind us.

The ballroom was exquisite with golden candle brackets and paintings hanging all over the walls. A glorious chandelier hung from the ceiling but unlike the Sacred Twenty-eight's Yule Ball, which kept the light as eerie and dim as possible, the light cast was warm and friendly. As we entered, faces turned in our direction and many nudged one another, evidently under the impression Bellatrix Lestrange had strode in. I raised an eyebrow and most looked away, though many kept sending furtive glances towards me. Stepping slightly aside so that Sirius did not notice any of this, we made our way over to the side of the room and observed the other attendees of the Ball.

'You may want to go and find James before I recall the fact I have the duty of chaperone this evening.' I informed Sirius, nudging him towards the food table where I saw a bespectacled boy who looked unmistakeably like Mr Potter. Sirius grinned at me and then hurried off to go see his friend.

'Admit it.' Kingsley said as I watched Sirius and James complete a rather absurd, idiotic and entirely unnecessary handshake. 'You wanted him to end up in Gryffindor.'

'Obviously.' I replied, raising a sceptical eyebrow in his direction. 'I am glad my wishes were so transparent to you.'

'Fine, deny it.' He winked at me. 'But your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone.'

'How generous of you.' I saw someone approach us over Kingsley's shoulder. 'I think your best behaviour is in order.'

'And why's that?'

'Because your employer is coming to speak with us.' A dull clunk grew louder and louder as Moody drew nearer to us, his face scowling rather obviously.

'Andromeda. Shacklebolt.' he grunted when he reached us and we nodded. 'That idiot Podmore's been trying to talk to me all night – he hates you Andromeda so I doubt he'll come over here.'

'An intelligent decision.' I remarked, and he turned his glowering expression on me. I met his two darkly coloured eyes with cool indifference. Moody grunted again.

'You'll be happy to know Tonks is looking for you.'

'Really?' I asked dubiously.

'Yeah, I hope you put him out of his misery soon.' Moody told me pointedly and my eyebrow raised itself of its own accord. 'He's turning into a right wet blanket.' I did not grace him with a response.

'You're too hard on Ted.' Kingsley piped up and nudged me. 'He's a good bloke, Andy. He means well and you could do with someone happy balance you out a bit.'

'I am always astounded by your way with words, Kingsley.' Moody laughed – though if one were being truthful it far better resembled a gurgle than a joyous chortle.

'Is Dumbledore coming later?' Kingsley asked, grinning at my comment.

'I reckon he will – Minerva as well – but he's got a meeting with that Unspeakable Rookwood at the moment.' I let out a disparaging noise at Moody's words and he looked at me sharply. 'What?'

'Rookwood is a fool.' was all I said but it was enough for Moody's eyes to scan my face intently.

'And what makes you say that?'

'Ted!' Kingsley called out and waved over the delightedly smiling Hufflepuff, rescuing me in the process from Moody's scrutiny. I sent him a rather mixed expression of anger that he had called over Tonks as well as a thankful look for he had just saved me from a conversation that would have turned quickly suspicious.

'Dromeda!' Tonks boomed happily. 'I've been looking for you! When d'you get here? I was asking anyone if they'd seen you but you must've turned up while I was getting food. Have you tried the turkey? It's really good! I would've got you some but I didn't know you were here yet – obviously. Anyway, how've you been. You really helped with those orbs by the way. We managed to build a case against the bloke selling them and we arrested him yesterday done Knockturn Alley 'cos as far as we know he doesn't have a licence.'

'You surprise me.'

'I'm glad we went together to Knockturn Alley that one time 'cos that meant I knew my way around this time – we found the bloke really easily!' Tonks' cheeks turned slightly pink. 'S-so, I was wondering if you wanted to dance. You can think of it as my official thank you to you for your help with everything.' I bit back the incredibly offensive comment that had sprung to mind; dancing with Tonks could certainly not be classed as a reward in my opinion. 'I'm not a bad dancer either so I promise I won't step on your toes – just ask my mum: she'll vouch for me.' I doubted Tonks' concept of superior quality dancing was anywhere in line with the standards provided by my pureblood upbringing. However, I saw Moody and Kingsley smirk at one another and defiantly accepted the tentative hand Tonks offered me.

We moved to the centre of the ballroom where other couples were already dancing and began to slowly revolve on the spot. He was not an atrocious dancer as I had feared nor was he the best dancer I had ever been partnered with; years of my mother desperately placing me beside eligible bachelors whenever we hosted a ball had exposed me to every manner of skillset when it came to the topic of dance. Tonks was what I referred to as (whenever Narcissa had, giggling fiercely, interrogated me after a ball where I had been forced to remain in the company of a supposedly good-looking young wizard) a bearable dancer – a dancer with whom you were not disconcerted by their exceptional talents and the expert flourishes they chose to add to their movements nor were you constantly fearing for your safety.

Despite this, I was still incredibly uncomfortable at being in such close proximity to Tonks with him smiling down at me in an unbelievably thrilled way. What exactly he was so delighted about was unclear, but it made my cold expression strengthen considerably. He hummed along to the violinist who played with gusto at the far end of the ballroom, accompanying the pianist expertly, and I considered that had anyone else been humming it might have been far more pleasant to the ears. However, at that current moment I had the pleasure of listening to someone hum who's voice I would have eagerly replaced my aunt Walburga's tuneless screeches – at least she knew when to keep her mouth shut in the company of fine music.

'You're an amazing dancer, Dromeda, d'you know that?' Tonks complimented earnestly. I remained stony faced but this seemed to make him beam more and more. I would soon require sunglasses or a parasol. To my immense surprise and joy, he said nothing else though this silence came at the prize of his incessantly happy face looking directly down at me for the duration of the dance.

Out of all the dances, waltz was my least favourite; I associated it with too many snobbish pureblood bachelors breathing heavily into my face. My mother always claimed it was the dance that got ladies husbands. As I thought this, I looked directly into Tonks' bright and cheerful eyes. I let out a humourless laugh as I envisaged my mother's face if she could have seen me dancing with a bachelor who dared to be a Muggle-born.

'What?' Tonks' voice brought me back to reality as he reacted to my bitter, singular laugh. 'Did I do something wrong?'

'No.' I replied and looked out at the other couples dancing.

'Then what's so funny?' he pressed curiously, evidently encouraged by my speaking to him.

'I was merely imagining my mother's reaction if she saw the two of us dancing together.'

'Oh, right.' Tonks chuckled, nodding. 'She desperate for grandkids like mine mum is?' I did not respond. 'My mum's been harping on about me having kids since the second I turned 19. She says if I find a girl now we'll settle down together and then she knows she's on the way to getting grandkids. Mad, eh?' He grinned at me. 'She likes you, y'know – she hasn't stopped going on about you since she met you.'

'How nice…' I said uncertainly.

'You should come round for New Year's day! My mum always says there's no cure for a hangover like lots of food!' I coughed. 'I mean… I guess you'll want to see your family…' The conversation had suddenly become uncomfortable for both parties. I did enjoy watching Tonks squirm nervously but unfortunately this discomfort was directed at me and not at some blithering idiot who I could offend. 'But you could always poke your head in for an hour or two!'

'I am flattered, Tonks,' I began stiffly and fought my desire to shiver with disgust as his eyes began to sparkle once more with delight. Perhaps he had a condition that limited how long he could be any emotion other than joyful. In any case, Tonks had certainly consumed a large portion of Christmas spirit. How wonderful. 'I will… er… "poke my head in" if my family… celebrations come to an abrupt end.'

'Wicked!' Tonks beamed at me. It could have been his smile that exclaimed pure ecstasy or the jubilant lightness to his eyes that foretold I would regret my statement. Or perhaps it was the prospect of spending an hour with an entire family of unnaturally positive people. I had yet to decide which factor was most predominant in affecting my prediction.

The music became slower and the violin produced a tune that one might refer to as intimate. All couples dancing, regrettably including Tonks and I, moved closer to their partner, though I did not exactly have a choice as Tonks shifted his hold so that we were at a much closer proximity. My head began to pound unpleasantly due to the extreme smell of mint wafting from my partner.

Fortuitously, Kingsley seemed to have gained a sense of remorse and rescued me from Tonks, informing him that he had promised me a dance before midnight. Tonks merrily danced off with Kingsley's previous partner who it transpired was one of their fellow Aurors.

'And who was that?' I inquired smugly, and Kingsley grinned back with a shrug.

'Her name's Amelia.'

'Is that Amelia Bones – Head girl when we were in 6th year?'

'The very same – she's doing a year of experience with the Auror department so she can join the Wizengamot.' he explained.

'She'll be the youngest member I suppose.' I mused. 'But I recall her being intelligent and youth would be a welcome introduction to their aged system.'

'Here, here.' Kingsley agreed and we both fell silent, revolving on the spot. After a moment I became aware that he was observing me rather studiously, as if I were a complex book he had chosen to read.

'Are you intending to voice why you are watching me so cryptically or shall I forever experience your scanning of my face?' I questioned a little waspishly.

'You're leading him on you know, Andy.' Kingsley said, frowning at me.

'You might have to specify who this mysterious male is.'

'Ted.' he replied impatiently.

'I was under the impression you had scolded me for being too cold towards him. Did I mishear you?'

'Yes, but there's a difference between being nice and that.'

'And what exactly is "that"?'

'The way you two were dancing – don't deny it, Andy!' he added hastily as I opened my mouth. 'I saw everything.'

'I hardly think that dancing constitutes towards misleading Tonks about my intentions.' I retorted haughtily.

'You're really blind, Andy.' Kingsley muttered.

'I would not intentionally indicate to Tonks that I wish anything more than acquaintanceship.' Kingsley raised an eyebrow. 'It may have escaped your notice but I am in no position to begin a platonic let alone romantic relationship with a Muggle-born.' I hissed in his ear. 'I have no desire to sign his death warrant nor my own and as you know I am already in a hazardous position without Tonks having anything to do with it.'

'Don't say that, Andy.' Kingsley whispered back, squeezing my hand tightly.

'Say what?'

'That stuff about your death warrant.' I sniffed and looked at the small scar in his left eyebrow.

We did not speak again and simply danced silently. It didn't take long for one of the Potter's blonde and beautiful nieces to find us and, giggling, ask Kingsley to dance with her. Naturally. He obliged, and I hovered by the food table for the time up until around 11 pm when Mrs Potter, a doting smile in place, appeared by my shoulder and pointed at Sirius, James and two other boys all snoozing peaceably in the corner of the ballroom. I thanked her and swept over, carefully shaking Sirius awake. He smiled sleepily at me and obediently followed me from the ballroom. We were given our coats and I Apparated us back to my house.

'Can we have one hot chocolate before we go to bed?' Sirius asked with a wide yawn.

'Very well.' I led the way into the kitchen and set about pulling out a pan. Sirius seated himself at the counter and watched me as I began making the hot chocolate – I could of course conjured the desired drink but handmade hot chocolate had a far superior taste and it was after all Christmas Eve.

'Dromeda?' Sirius piped up as I began to stir the milk over the hob.

'Yes?'

'Are you a death eater?' My body tensed.

'What gives you that idea?'

'Nothing…' He paused. 'Well, one of my friends, Peter, said you looked a lot like Bella and she's a death eater so-'

'If everything that looked similar were deemed the same we would live in a very different world.' I said sharply. Sirius did not respond. 'For example, water and Veriatserum look identical and yet I would never intentionally consume the latter if I wished to be hydrated.'

'I suppose. Sorry, Dromeda… That was a stupid question…' I waved a dismissive had and we fell silent for a moment while I added cocoa powder to the hot milk. 'Dromeda?'

'Yes, Sirius?' I asked, a little tiredly.

'Have you ever seen V-Voldemort?' I could tell by the eager tone of his voice that he was desperate to hear my response.

'Yes.'

'Wicked!'

'If that were every wizard's response to his existence he would not be the most feared wizard in Britain.' I stated, decantring the hot chocolate into two large mugs. I brought them over to the counter and sat down. Sirius was watching me with awe.

'What does he look like?'

'An appearance that a child such as yourself should never have to imagine or see.' I responded curtly, looking at him sternly over the rim of my mug. His expression was distinctly put out.

'Oh, go on, Dromeda. Try me! I'm a Gryffindor, remember? I'm brave!' I smiled in spite of myself.

'You are still a child no matter what your Hogwarts House.'

'Pleease?' he begged, and I sighed in resignation. Sirius knew I had relented and grinned excitedly.

'A nightmare.' I said, looking into my mug at the chocolatey contents within. I heard the creasing of Sirius' dress robes as he leaned forward, clinging to my every word. 'Like all the nightmares in the world have merged into one heartless body. His eyes are black with no empathy behind them… just pure, cruel, malignant, pitiless malice.'

'Wow.' Sirius breathed, and I looked at him sharply.

'You are too young to comprehend the terrors of the Dark Lord.' I told him austerely. 'I should not have said anything.'

'But, Dromeda-'

'I think it is time for us to retire.' I snapped and plucked his mug out of his hands. I set the dishes to wash themselves and then gestured for Sirius to leave the kitchen. He did so reluctantly with a great scraping of his stool and shuffling of his feet. Slouching, he made his way passed me and up the staircase. I waited until I heard his door close before I went in the direction of my own room.

Slipping into my nightgown, I washed my face and folded away my clothes. For a few minutes, I simply lay on my bed, staring up at the canopy and thinking. But then I shook myself and padded out of my room and along the corridor to the door of Sirius room. Knocking gently, I pushed open the door and saw Sirius climbing into bed. He smiled when he noticed me.

'Goodnight, Sirius.' I said from the doorway.

'Night, Dromeda.' I made to close the door. 'Dromeda?'

'Yes?'

'Where you ever scared?'

'Of what exactly?'

'Of Voldemort.' I studied his face for a moment, considering my answer.

'You have not known fear,' I said quietly, 'until you have looked into his eyes as they glow red.'

There was silence in the room as I finished speaking. It was unbearably thick as it hung between Sirius and I, thus I decided it was best to shut the door and hurry away. I did not know what to say as I observed Sirius looking at me strangely and quickly began to close the door as he opened his mouth to speak.

'W-will you tuck me up?' he asked nervously, and I froze where I stood. Sirius' face was so timid and I found myself unable to move; I simply remained where I was, staring at my young cousin.

'I… Yes, of course.' I mumbled after what seemed an age. Moving swiftly forwards, I set about tucking his duvet snuggly around him, slightly unsure if I was doing it correctly.

On the afternoon of Christmas day, I brought Sirius to the Potter's house, politely declined Mrs Potter's offer of tea and then Apparated directly to the location where I would be eating a Christmas dinner: my uncle Alphard's vast estate in the countryside.

My father was one of three siblings: Alphard, Cygnus and Walburga. Walburga, the youngest of the three and the only female, had inherited a large amount of money and the Black family's townhouse, Number twelve Grimmauld Place. Cygnus, the middle child (and my father), had inherited an even larger sum of money and the Black's large manor in the suburbs of London. And Alphard, the eldest of the siblings, had inherited the Black estate and more gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts than one could spend in the world.

My uncle Alphard did not possess the same ideologies as the majority of my delightful relatives but he had the security of his situation to announce this publicly; unlike his two brothers, uncle Alphard had not married nor had he produced any heirs and thus who would stand to inherit was unknown. This meant he was not disowned by the family entirely for being a Mudblood lover as my father, mother and aunt often termed him because if there was a more predominant trait that the Blacks possessed than the wish to show superiority over all others it was greed. The promise of so much wealth was far to good a prospect for uncle Alphard to be cut off from the family.

When I had been younger, before I had attended Hogwarts, my mother had often ushered my sisters and I off the visit uncle Alphard; partially because she did not wish to see us for the duration of that afternoon and would much rather someone else had to look after us and partially because she hoped that by showing him his nieces, her children, uncle Alphard would soften and leave all his money to our fraction of the family and not to Walburga and her children.

I still visited uncle Alphard regularly, though I did not visit him to secure my inheritance and found his home far more welcoming than my own. Like all the buildings owned by the House of Black, the mansion was made of a greyish black stone that did not expel any welcoming attributes and yet, despite this, uncle Alphard's home seemed altogether friendlier. Bright flowers hung from window boxes all year round – my uncle was a keen gardener – and a whole plethora of magical plants grew in the front garden. The acres of land that came with the mansion sprawled out into the distance, including patchwork fields and a thick, gnarly wood in which I spent many a time as a young girl playing hide and seek with my sisters.

Knocking on the door, I waited for it to be answered, admiring the Christmas wreath hanging in front of me. Uncle Alphard opened the door.

He was a tall, largely built man – though not plump but muscular due to the large amount of time he spent shifting heavy plant pots around his gardens. His movements, though agile, had a distinct limp about them and his posture was incredibly straight due to his slight back problems as curving it triggered great pain for him. He had the same black hair as his siblings but it was streaked with grey; I could not recall it being any different when I was younger. But it was his grey eyes that indicated the most life in his body. They were always filled with energy and distinct intelligence. His arms reflected this in the way they were always slightly bent and away from his torso, as if he was constantly prepared to engage the nearest bystander in a running race.

'Andromeda!' he heralded in his deep booming voice.

'Uncle Alphard.' I returned his greeting and he gestured for me to enter. I did so and hung my cloak on the coat rack. Turning around, held out my gift for my uncle. He took it and ripped the paper open, chuckling appreciatively at the book I had bought for him. As he opened the cover, his eyes widened and then he grinned, pulling out a thin seed packet I had slid inside the cover.

'Oh, ho!' he chortled. 'I won't ask how you got these.' Uncle Alphard winked conspiratorially. 'Well, we'd better get into the drawing room so you can get your present.'

I followed him into a large drawing room filmed with richly green furnishings and a merrily crackling fire in the grate. A gigantic Christmas tree stood in the corner with a single present beneath it. With a great effort, uncle Alphard bent down and picked up the gift.

'Borgin swears he's never even sold you one of these.' he informed me as I accepted the present. 'But I can always swap it if he's actually lying.'

'I should not be surprised if he was.' I said, carefully removing the wrapping paper and examining the rectangular box that had been underneath. Removing the lid, I admired the contents. Two, small, jet black blades lay on delicate silver silk. Their handles were black also with a single stripe of emerald on the upturned side, as if the jewel was breaking through from within the hilt. I carefully removed one and examined it with an expert eye. The blades were made from black tinted Goblin-made silver and on closer inspection seemed to have a dark purple poison woven into the very fibres of the metal.

'I'm glad you like them.' uncle Alphard said, regarding me with amusement. 'I'm sure you'll find a use for them.'

'Thank you, uncle.' I said quietly, replacing the blade back in the box with its counterpart.

'And now,' he cried, rubbing his hands together, 'I think it time for our magnificent luncheon!'

After finishing the delicious three-course meal uncle Alphard's house-elf had cooked for us, we retired into his library. I plucked a book from the shelves and shelves of heavy volumes and seated myself in one of the evergreen-coloured squashy armchairs. Uncle Alphard took the high back leather seat behind his desk and produced a newspaper. He sat there reading in silence for a few minutes and then let out a derisive snort. I looked up at him inquiringly.

'Apparently it's been almost 10 years since Hepzibah Smith died.' he informed me. 'Her family are putting on a memorial service for her – it's a load of rubbish. The only think the Smiths care about is money and they were only too happy when that house-elf of hers poisoned her tea.'

'I see.'

'If you ask me they're only putting this on so that can ask guests about the ruddy cup and locket that went missing. Harpies the lot of them! The second she was dead they started scouring that house of hers. They only cared that they were a few hundred Galleons poorer than they had planned for. I heard Bathsheba Smith didn't get nearly as many dresses with her inheritance as she'd hoped.' Uncle Alphard let out a bitter laugh.

'I have not had the… pleasure of meeting any of the Smith family.'

'Hepzibah was always a laugh at parties but the rest of them are nothing but greedy pieces of muck!'

'They sound familiar.' I remarked, and my uncle laughed darkly.

'The House of Black are exactly the same; keeping in contact with me, hoping I'll put them in my will, hovering about like vultures flying over a dying animal – you excepted of course.'

'You flatter me, uncle.'

'Sometimes I think to myself that we're the only two good eggs in a basket of rotten ones.' He folded up his paper and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. I studied him for a moment, deliberating whether I should voice an idea that had been biting at me since Sirius' placement in Gryffindor.

'Uncle,' I began slowly, milling over my chosen words in my head. 'I have a favour I wish to ask of you…'

'Oh?' Uncle Alphard leaned forwards with interest, swiftly forgetting his irritation at the rest of the family. 'Nothing too illegal I hope.' I did not smile.

'I… Uncle, I know I have no right to inquire or suggest potential heirs to your fortune…' I did not look at my uncle, choosing to focus my gaze on the bookcase behind him. 'But, I ask – with humble intentions – that you consider naming Sirius as your heir…'

'The Gryffindor?' Uncle Alphard sat up a little straighter. 'Not to you, then? I thought you might like the extra money – buy all of Borgins' wares or start your own magical objects business.'

'I sense the time will come soon when Sirius will have no allies left in this family to protect him from his mother's wrath.' I murmured.

'What about you? You've been looking out for the boy haven't you?'

'I am not in Time's favour.' I replied, looking directly into uncle Alphard's energetic eyes. 'The consequences of my decisions are bound to acquaint themselves with me in the near future.'

'But that sounds as if – you joined? – I suspected as much when that Kingsley picked you up last time you came to – Andromeda –' Uncle Alphard was observing me with very wide eyes indeed as if this was the first time he was truly seeing his niece. 'Very well,' he said, tearing his gaze away. 'You should be grateful I enjoy the chance to aggravate my sister not to mention it has been my ambition for quite some time to remove myself from that infernal tapestry she has.'

Narcissa arrived by floo powder during the early hours of the morning and together we began filling a large collection of crates with bandages, potions, potion ingredients and several pewter cauldrons. It was a very organised procedure with objects arranging themselves neatly both by hand and by magic. Once the crates were full, we stacked them and donned our hooded black cloaks and silver masks before Disapparating to Bella's house where we met Rabastan and Rodulphus Lestrange, Crabbe, Goyle and a rather nervous Igor Karkaroff. He had no reason to be nervous but despite his mask I could see his dark eyes were flitting about, ever searching a way of escape. I briefly glimpsed the Dark Lord as we milled in the entrance hall and he nodded in my direction, his black eyes fixated on my own as I returned his nod. Then they moved downwards slightly and I shifted uncomfortably but could not dwell on this as the rest of my companions made grunts indicating we were about to leave. Everyone gathered around an elegantly carved silver blade and each put a finger on its side, I mimicked this movement, and then we all felt an unpleasant feeling in our midriff's as the ground was yanked from beneath our feet.

We landed in a cul-de-sac of sorts and instantly brought our wands out as the blade fell to the floor, the clanging of metal echoing through the silent vicinity. A morning frost still clung to the surroundings and through the front window of the house we had appeared in front of I could see two bleary eyed Muggles moving about their living room clad in their pyjamas and laughing merrily about something or other. I felt a sick feeling grow in my stomach as I observed my peers, all of them except Narcissa, who had remained close by my side, eagerly making their way towards the front door.

'Do you think they have children?' she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. It was most fortunate there was no one to overhear her statement for she would have portrayed herself as incredibly weak had the wrong person eavesdropped; Lucius would not be pleased to know his fiancée was feeling a form of sympathy towards something as low as a pair of Muggles.

'Not anymore.' I replied emotionlessly as my stomach churned violently. The sound of the two Muggles I'd seen through the window begging met our ears and I carefully placed my hands on either side of Narcissa' head so that she would not have to hear the eerily audible sounds of a baby crying while its parents pleaded for mercy. Wretched screams filled the entire cul-de-sac; screams that made the hairs on the back of my neck lift swiftly. My body turned cold and I flinched as the wailing of the baby stopped with unnatural abruptness, as though someone had sliced through it with a knife mid cry, but there was little time to think on it as a second later a deafening hush fell upon the world as both parents were silenced forever. Removing my hands from Narcissa's ears, I thought bitterly that at least the Muggles were all together in a place hopefully far more pleasant than the world they had previously inhabited. 'Come, we are required.'

We moved silently into the house and I gestured for Narcissa to shut the front door, which she did, to prevent her seeing the cadavers being thrown roughly into the cupboard under the stairs.

Then the house was prepared for the events of that evening. With a flick of my wand, the crates packed by Narcissa and I appeared in the hallway and I levitated them into the kitchen, where I instructed my younger sister to set up the cauldrons. I called for Pooky and bid her make a start on cooking a gigantic vat of soup before heading into the living room to oversee the moving of furniture. All furnishings were transfigured into plain white beds with plain white blankets which I cast warming charms over and then caused all the cushions in the house to place themselves on the beds, one on each. Rabastan and I went outside and began to place Wards about the property so that no unwanted visitors could enter and no one could leave without clearance. Any Muggles that had left their houses to investigate the source of the screaming from before would find themselves repelled with an excruciatingly painful burning sensation should they near our Wards.

'I hear from Narcissa that the honourable Miss Isabel Selwyn has received an offer from you.' I said to Rabastan with a casual air and enjoyed watching the anger that flitted across his eyes, the emotion still being visible despite his mask.

'I have proposed to her on several occasions.' he replied through gritted teeth and my lips began to curve upwards into a twisted smile of amusement.

'How fortunate for her to have such a… dedicated suitor.' I mused as we moved around to the side of the house to cast more protective spells.

'She has refused me,' Rabastan growled, 'for she claims still to be in mourning for her brother. Why she should still feel saddened two months after his death is foreign to me.'

'Why, indeed…' I responded and allowed a cold laugh to bubble out of me as I noticed his grip around his wand tighten considerably.

'You think you're supposed madness keeps away suitors but I think most are repelled by your use of sarcastic comments that are not becoming on a woman.' Rabastan seemed satisfied with his statement and I was silent for a moment, allowing him to feel victorious for a brief while. Surprisingly, the man I stood beside had been one of my peers at school, very much under the command of Bella when she still attended. He had also been incredibly willing to follow my rules when I had taken over the role Slytherin queen and, although now he pretended otherwise, had been one of the easiest people to manipulate according to Narcissa. But when we had left school, Rabastan had started a search for a new leader, whom he could endeavour to serve. Men like the Lestrange brothers claimed independent thought but they were all the same, endlessly seeking for the biggest bully to serve and hide behind. In my experience of pureblood males, most echoed this sentiment.

'If that suitor is frightened by my wit then they should look outside of the Dark Lord's circle for a bride.' I said to Rabastan, who's eyes widened quite obviously. 'Perhaps, Rabastan, you should take into consideration that not all of us live crying "heigh-ho for a husband!".'

It seemed Rabastan could not articulate an answer to rival my incredibly intellectual response and we continued to cast Wards about the property without another word; the silence was quite a pleasant contrast between any encounter with Tonks, who could represent Wizarding Britain in a conversing competition and most likely reach at least second place.

By the time we finished securing the house – Rabastan, although skilled in the offensive spells department, lacked particular accomplishment in regards to defensive wand work meaning I had to replace all of his mediocre Wards with my stronger ones – the sun had risen considerably higher in the sky and no longer cast a morning glow over the world but lazy midday light that settled comfortably into place. We began to trudge towards the front door but as I reached out a hand to open it, Rabastan grabbed it and spun me around.

I glowered at him through my mask and attempted to interpret the wild expression dancing in his cold eye. His hand was like an ice-cold clamp on my own freezing one that had a surprising impact on my skin despite us almost matching in terms of temperature. I felt branded, as if he was burning frost into my skin with the force of his grip so that ice would weave itself through my very being.

'What d-' I began furiously but he dared to interject me.

'Marry me, Andromeda!' he said brashly, a desperate hunger radiating out from behind his silver mask. His hold on my hand seemed, if it were possible, to increase in pressure as horror flooded through my veins. 'Marry me.' he repeated when I did not respond.

'Marry you?' I hissed and he nodded in apparent earnest; this unsettled me greatly and I endeavoured to widen the gap between us. It proved a fruitless attempt as his clung like a limpet to my slowly numbing hand.

'Marry me.' Rabastan said again. 'We would be an excellent match and I am sure your parents would not refuse me. I have an excellent manor in Yorkshire which would be more than capable of filling your requirements. It has plenty of rooms, so the number of our children would not be an issue – in fact the more we have the better as Rodulphus has produced no heirs thus far.'

'No.'

'If you are concerned about your supposed madness finding itself in our offspring you needn't worry. I know you are not mad, Andromeda, and one Black has already married a Lestrange so how shall we be any worse?' Rabastan did not seem to grasp the concept of declining a marriage offer, first with poor Miss Selwyn and now with me.

'I believe I said no.' I was just as tall as Rabastan but he did not possess the ability to look down upon people of all heights, so I easily sneered imperiously down at him and induced him to let go of my hand.

'I shall ask your father.' he announced, an angry glint visible in his eye. 'You cannot deny him!'

'Perhaps,' I agreed smoothly, opening the front door. 'But until that time comes my answer shall remain unchanged.' Then I strode inside, Rabastan close behind me and as the door slammed behind us, he dragged me into the dining room and pressed me against the wall, shoving his lips onto mine in a rough manner, forcing our masks upwards. I struggled beneath him as his torso pushed down on mine and growled with vehemence as his lips moved furiously on my own unmoving ones. For a matter of seconds, we wrestled until I eventually threw him off me and then kicked him in the chest with my one of my high-heeled feet so that he fell crashing into the dining table behind him. In an instant, my wand was out and I was sending curse after curse at the male before me.

All the rage that had been pent up inside for months spilled out as I fired a hex then a jinx and then another curse. My anger at Tonks' constant presence in both my mind and life poured through the magic coursing out of my wand. My resentment towards Kingsley for encouraging Tonks' attempts to befriend me barged its way into a powerful stinging hex I shot at the bridge of Rabastan's slightly hooked nose. My pure fury at Dumbledore and his incompetent Order and his calm demeanour, his manner of speaking that indicated he saw nothing wrong, flooded through my fingertips and encased the wand in my hand, causing a shower of red hot sparks to rain down on Rabastan that induced flames to lick their way painfully across his face.

I paused, taking a few deep breaths and stepping away from Rabastan. With a flick of my wand all his burns and stings were healed, and I straightened my robes, pulling my sliver mask back into place.

'I was wrong,' Rabastan croaked from the table and I glanced in his direction. Wincing, he got to his feet and mirrored my actions of sorting out his own crumpled robes. 'You are mad.'

When 8.30 pm made an appearance, the whole house fell silent as the highly irritating cuckoo clock marked the time in twittering fashion. Then, a never-ending wave of cracking sounds shattered the silence as black robed, sliver masked figures appeared in droves in all of the downstairs rooms and garden. I saw Lucius and Narcissa disappear upstairs together, no doubt wishing to exchange affectionate words before the event that would follow, and averted my gaze, unfortunately directing it Karkaroff, who sat in the corner of the hallway like a coward nursing a bottle of firewhisky. I waited irritably for the young couple to return and once they had, I shoved Rabastan towards the foot of the staircase, where he began to bark out orders.

The march had begun.

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