Author's Note: Here it is. I've rewritten this, and I mean COMPLETELY rewritten this, three times. I hope it does not disappoint.
Narcissa went into Andromeda's sitting room as she had asked, which appeared to be furnished simply but tastefully beneath a thin layer of clutter. She picked up a Daily Prophet off the sofa and stacked it on a nearby pile of books to create a space to sit. The sound of the baby crying had already quieted. Narcissa bit her lip. What was she doing here? What was she going to say to Anny when she came back down? It wasn't as though she was prepared to offer an apology for their separation; on the contrary, she still harbored a good deal of bitterness about the whole ordeal, though she knew it would be in poor taste to start a quarrel.
Her mind spiraled in this manner for several minutes, coming to no conclusions, until she heard Anny coming back down the stairs. When she reappeared in the doorway, and spoke in a hushed voice. "If you don't mind, we should move elsewhere - this room is right below the baby."
The baby. Narcissa stood and followed Anny as she led the way to the kitchen. The mention of the baby was a sharp reminder that Anny's daughter had recently been killed. Narcissa knew she should say something, offer her condolences, but she couldn't come up with the right words. Andromeda took a seat at the kitchen table and gestured for Narcissa to do the same. "I don't know what I was thinking, but Teddy's such a light sleeper that it would be pretty much impossible to have a conversation in the sitting room without waking him," Andromeda said conversationally.
Narcissa nodded. "Draco was a fussy baby, too."
Andromeda pursed her lips. "Well, the last few weeks have been a bit hard for poor Teddy," she said. The undertone in her voice was bitter. Narcissa felt the tension rise between them, and could not think of what to say. Clearly, she was not off the hook.
"So," Anny continued after a significant pause, "Dear Bellatrix kept you from seeing me." Narcissa nodded. "But if you were so desperate to talk to me, you could have sent an owl. I don't recall receiving any letters."
Narcissa felt her face flushing. "By the same token, if you cared to, you could just as easily have sent letters to me."
Andromeda shook her head. "Any letter I sent to the house would never have reached you, Narcissa, you know that."
"But I had two whole years left at Hogwarts," Narcissa countered very politely. "I came of age that December. Mother and father had no control over me there, you could have reached me."
Andromeda's cheeks had flushed as well. "Fair enough," she asserted, "we had equal opportunity. But I had no reason to believe you wanted to hear from me. In fact, I recall you having nothing but harsh words for me the last time we spoke."
Narcissa folded her hands very tightly and pursed her lips. "I would have appreciated a letter. It was rather difficult after you left." She let it at that. She was not going to give her sister a sob story about how miserable and scared she'd been; about how their parents had almost not let her go back to Hogwarts, and how she'd only narrowly escaped being forced into marriage with a man she couldn't bear that Christmas, before she'd even finished sixth year. She kept these facts to herself, and moved ahead with the conversation. "My real reason for wanting to talk to you was to apologize for our argument." Narcissa forced herself to look into Anny's eyes. "It never occurred to me that those would be our parting words."
Narcissa's contrition seemed to have little effect on her sister. "What difference does it make whether or not they were the last thing you said to me?" Andromeda replied. "You still said them. You still meant it."
"I was upset," she answered.
"You meant it, Narcissa; I know you well enough to know that," Andromeda argued. "You couldn't bear to think that I would have a child of what you considered to be objectionable lineage."
"No!" Narcissa actually raised her voice a little bit. "I mean, at the time perhaps, but..." She bit her lip to keep from losing control of her emotions, and stared at her hands. As a sixteen-year-old girl, she had vehemently urged her sister to get rid of the Mudblood child in her womb, but lineage had not been her motivation for the argument, not really. "You were leaving me, Anny. You abandoned me for someone else; that was how it felt, and I wasn't old enough to really understand-"
"You were sixteen years old!" her sister retorted angrily, "Plenty old enough to understand what I was going through!"
"I didn't, though, Anny. How could I possibly have understood? I'd had little experience with men, nothing of substance, nothing that could possibly have induced me to fling aside my beliefs and my family and everyone I loved!"
"I loved him, Narcissa! I loved him, and I loved my child." Andromeda's eyes were red, but no tears fell.
Narcissa's voice suddenly lowered to a whisper. "I know." She looked her sister straight in the eyes, trying not to cry herself. "I would have had it differently, but at least I understand that much. You did the right thing, given your circumstances," she admitted quietly. Having fallen in love and borne a child of her own, Narcissa could see why her sister had made the choices she did. "And I've understood that for some time now."
Andromeda stared at her, slowly shaking her head. "I wouldn't have had it any different."
Her younger sister did not break the gaze. "I know."
Andromeda sniffed, looking away for a long moment. "And it's taken you twenty-five years to admit that much." She looked back to Narcissa with a nasty glint in her eyes. "Well, you've got your wish, Narcissa. They're both gone." There was an overwhelming depth of grief in her voice beneath the bitterness.
Narcissa felt her emotions squeezing her throat shut, and she struggled to take a deep breath. "I would never have wished this upon you."
"You did when I left."
A contradiction rose on her lips, but she couldn't put it into words. She could not deny that she'd wished them gone when she had first discovered their existence. Narcissa took several moments to formulate a response. Her eyes were burning with tears that she refused to let fall. "I said a lot of things that day. And I cannot deny that at the moment I said them, I probably meant them." A single tear dripped down her face, and she quickly brushed it away, angry that she couldn't control herself. She took a shaky breath and returned her gaze to her sister. "But I am not cruel enough to wish this kind of pain upon you; you must believe that."
Andromeda's cheeks were flushed with emotion. "I don't know what to believe," she answered, though her tone was less brutal than before. "Your friends were the ones that killed them."
"That's not true," Narcissa flatly denied. "The Death Eaters are no friends of mine."
Her sister laughed humorlessly. "No? Your own dear husband is a leading member, unless I am mistaken."
Narcissa bristled at the flippant mention of Lucius. "Was," she corrected her, "Some time ago. But not recently, and his affiliation with those people by no means made them my friends."
"Really. You aren't friends with the Averys or with Rabastan or Roddie? Or Bellatrix?" she ended viciously. The way she said the name made very clear that she knew who had killed her daughter.
Narcissa's stomach was clenched so tightly that she actually wondered if she was going to be sick. Nevertheless, she answered her sister as calmly as she could. "I have not said more than three words in passing to Eric and Lettice Avery in the last few years. I have been ignored by Rabastan and Rodolphus ever since my husband was arrested; they had no wish to associate themselves with me. And I equally have avoided company in general. The only people I can claim to have trusted in the last few years have been Lucius and my son. And Severus," she added. She swallowed, and prepared to tackle the final hurdle. "And as for Bellatrix... We couldn't be friends; she was just... it was like she wasn't in there anymore. When she came back from Azkaban, she wasn't the same."
Andromeda shook her head. "You actually make excuses for her. I shouldn't be surprised."
"I'm not excusing her actions," Narcissa retorted. "But you must understand that there is a distinction between Bellatrix, the Dark Lord's most faithful, and our sister Bella."
"I am under no obligation to 'understand' anything!" Andromeda snarled back. "The truth of the matter is that she targeted Nymphadora because she was my daughter. The bitch killed my little girl, and I'm not about to swallow any of the thestral-shit you perpetuate about her to make yourself feel better!"
A surge of something like anger swelled up in Narcissa, and she couldn't suppress the impulse to snap back. "Believe what you want to believe, then. But I know the truth, and I refuse to accept that the sister I grew up with would have encouraged me to sacrifice my son's life to the Dark Lord's cause."
"People change," was Andromeda's harsh response. Her eyes met Narcissa's unflinchingly.
Narcissa could not bear the accusing gaze, and she looked away. Andromeda was putting up a more unmerciful front than she had been prepared to deal with. She had already made her cry, which Narcissa had promised herself she wouldn't do. And there was too much truth to many of the things her sister was saying - she certainly had not been prepared for that.
Andromeda began to speak again, a bit softer and more tired-sounding than before. "Narcissa, why are you here?" Her stare was critical, deciding what to make of the younger witch. "You've had no inclination to acknowledge my existence for the last quarter century, regardless of anything Bellatrix might have done to you. And you may once have felt sorry for the unpleasantries we exchanged right before I left, but you have yet to actually apologize for anything at all, and knowing you I can only assume that you have no intention of doing so. What do you want from me?"
The younger of the two witches slowly forced herself to meet her sister's eyes, struggling all the while to keep her composure. "I want to be your sister," she answered in a meek voice that she did not recognize as her own.
Her words visibly affected Andromeda, who stared at her for a long moment before choking back a sob that shuddered through her body. She rose from the table slowly, wrapping her arms around herself and placing a hand over her mouth as she turned to look out the bay window. "It's too soon," she said, keeping her voice admirably smooth. "The wounds are too fresh, Narcissa; I can't do this now."
"Better too soon than too late," Narcissa answered. She was staring at the back of her sister's head, but she was sure that she had succeeded with that statement. "What sort of sister could I ever be to you if I ignored your suffering for a second time?"
Andromeda did not move, save for the rising and falling of her shoulders. Then she slowly turned to partially face her. "Your effort is duly noted," she conceded, "But I can't... Cissy, I just can't." Her expression was tormented. Years of resentment and anger, together with her latest dose of misery, were battling with her obvious curiosity and even a veiled yearning... but perhaps that was only Narcissa's imagination. Andromeda hugged herself tightly, as if she could physically hold her emotions together. "You can't undo what's been done."
Narcissa remained seated, allowing her sister the height advantage. "But I can share your grief," she responded softly, leaning forward.
"How can you? We have lived opposing lives. Your feelings certainly cannot identify with mine." Anny was no longer attacking her; she truly sought an answer.
Did she really believe she was that heartless? Narcissa answered, "Of course I can sympathize with you. I have not yet lost my ability care for the people I love, and to lose them would be devastating."
Andromeda moved a step closer to her. "In that broad sense, yes. But we've been on opposite sides of a war. There are too many complications, and unanswered questions."
Narcissa gazed up at her sister plainly, willing herself to be honest and unafraid. "Ask your questions. I'll answer them."
Her sister shook her head. "That's not..." She faced Narcissa fully, giving up on her argument. "It's not as if I have a list, Narcissa. I mean that it would take the rest of our lives to really understand each other, if it was even possible."
"I'm willing to try," Narcissa answered smoothly.
"Well I'm not sure that I am," Andromeda countered, crossing her arms.
Narcissa was not ready to accept defeat. She leaned forward slightly. "We are not as different as you believe we are," she told her.
Her sister scoffed, "I wouldn't bet on that."
"I rejoiced when the Dark Lord fell, Anny. I lived in fear of him for years, every day wondering if my family was going to survive until the next day. It would only have taken a single wrong move for me to lose my life, or my husband's, or my son's."
"And yet, they managed to survive. But I lost my child, and my husband." There were tears in her eyes again. "And I've never discovered what actually happened to Ted."
Narcissa stared at her sister for a long moment. Was she really asking...? "Anny, we had nothing to do with that," she said firmly.
Her light brown eyes had grown hard again. "Are you certain? Have you been keeping tabs on your own dear husband?"
The color rose in Narcissa's face. "Lucius has been without a wand since last July," she said tersely. "And I have not had mine for several months. I am quite certain."
Andromeda's shoulders sagged, and she nodded. Her eyes found Narcissa's, and she considered her thoughtfully. "Do you love him?" she asked after a long pause.
Narcissa was taken aback by the question. It had come from out of the blue, and she couldn't fathom why it was something that interested Andromeda. "Of course I love him," Narcissa responded. More than life itself, she added inwardly.
Her sister nodded slowly, and returned to her seat. "I only wondered... Marriages of convenience are not unheard of, especially between two of your lineage." Andromeda pressed her lips together, scrutinizing Narcissa. "But if you love him, then perhaps there is a chance of your appreciating my present situation. If you could imagine how it would feel to lose him."
"I have lost him once already," Narcissa reminded her sister. "He was sentenced to life in Azkaban, as I'm sure you know."
Andromeda's arms folded again. "Which he rightly deserved."
A long silence stretched out, in which her words echoed in Narcissa's head. Her cheeks suddenly burned as she stared at her sister, unable to form any words that would not come out as a string of nasty spells aimed directly at her head. Her breathing came heavily, and a little flame of hatred began to burn inside of her.
"Wouldn't you say so?" Andromeda asked rhetorically, seemingly unaffected by Narcissa's reaction. "He did ally himself with a group of escaped felons, break into the Ministry, and attack a group of children, all in an effort to overthrow the government. Surely he knew there would be consequences for that."
Narcissa did not respond. She could not respond.
Her older sister shrugged. "Well, he's managed to avoid his sentence, it would seem. You've got him back."
Shaking her head slowly, Narcissa pursed her lips. "For a while, I did." She was not going to cry, not when that was clearly what her sister wanted. "But you'll be happy to know that he's back in Azkaban, where you clearly believe he belongs." This wasn't going to work. Andromeda had been correct in saying that there were too many complications. They were enemies, and that was the long and short of it. Narcissa stood stiffly, her chair scraping on the floorboards as she pushed it back. "I think I should be going," she said, and headed for the door without waiting to be shown out. She should have known better than to expect any conclusion but this one.
"Narcissa," Andromeda exclaimed, jumping to her feet and following, "Wait."
She did no such thing. Narcissa continued toward the front door, squashing her emotions down to keep them from exploding out of her.
Andromeda caught her arm, and Narcissa whirled around to face her, pulling away from her sister's grip. How dare she touch her. How dare she try to stop her.
"What do you mean, Lucius is back in Azkaban?" Andromeda asked seriously. "I thought they were reviewing his case?"
Narcissa raised her chin haughtily. "Perhaps they are, but they thought it better to imprison him until they have come to a decision. And if their thinking is anywhere along the same lines as yours, I don't expect I'll ever get him back." She was trembling with anger, and turned to leave.
"Cissy, don't go," Andromeda entreated.
It would only be moments until Narcissa burst into tears, and she knew it. "I need to go be with my son, Andromeda. Tomorrow they'll decide whether or not to lock him away as well," Narcissa told her, finally unable to hold back her tears. She mustered up every bit of hatred she could, and snarled, "Perhaps you'll get justice, Andromeda. Perhaps my husband and son will be ripped away from me forever. Then I'll finally understand just how you feel."
She fled the house, striding forward briskly without a backward glance. Tears blinded her as they flooded her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She heard her sister call out her name, but she ignored it. She was never coming back to this house again. Ever.
Author's Note: Don't hate me. All is not lost. Leave me a review, and let all your feelings out. :)
P.S: 100 reviews? YOU GUYS ROCK.
