An: Again, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. It really means a lot to me. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Seven - Letters to the forsaken

9th December

Andy,

Your sister is holding me at wand point as I write this. I want you to know I would never write a letter like this of my own volition, and I could easily overpower Bellatrix, but it appears my pathetic excuse of a brother has sided with her, and I am not too proud to admit I could not overpower both of them at the same time.

Your sister wants me to tell you why I did what I did and to apologise. I will not apologise. You knew my reputation, and yet you still willingly gave into me. But it seems I am forced to tell you that I pursued you because I was bored and if you were anything like your sister it would be worth my time. Not that I have slept with your sister, but my brother tells me many things. Oh the tales I could tell you about Bellatrix. But that is not the point of this letter.

I imagine you could have been worth my time, if I had not played my hand so early. But as I said at the time, three months is an awfully long time, and I fear that I would have fucked you by now, one way or another. You had potential. Such potential, but I am afraid you will never know how great we could have been. Of course, if boredom ever finds you, you know how to reach me.

Rabastan

P.S I hope this satisfies your sister.

She threw the letter down in disgust onto the breakfast table, where it drooped into a discarded bowl of cereal.

"Bad news?" Titus was wolfing down bacon like there was no tomorrow, and she stifled a smile as she noticed the tomato sauce clinging to strands of his dark blonde hair.

"Lestrange," she said with a sniff. "It's one part explanation, two parts charm and one part Bella threatening him."

Titus nodded sagely. "Ah, the old hurt my family, I hurt you."

][][][][][][][][][][][][

My dearest Andy,

I warned you, did I not? Please promise me that you will be more careful in future.

Luckily, Rabastan has announced to society that nothing untoward happened. This was largely because I threatened him, but the point is that hopefully no rumours will follow this, and you will still be able to marry well. I hope you are holding your head high. Please do not give anyone more reason to spread slander as I fear any more and you will no longer be as attractive to the first borns as you once were.

Choose more carefully in future.

Bellatrix

Titus raised an eyebrow at his friend, as she searched through her textbook for a vital piece of history that would finish her essay. "Attractive to the first borns?" he asked with a half smile. "We're not a homogenous group you know."

"Big word," she teased. "And yes, yes you are."

"We're not!" he insisted. "We're very different."

"No." She continued to write her essay, her quill scratching furiously. "You're all rich, you're all pureblood and you're all in need of a wife. I'd say that makes you all the same."

"Some of us are far more manly and rugged," Titus said, struggling to sit up so he could preen.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, turning to face him. "I mean, playing all that Quidditch certainly pays off for Bertrand Mulciber."

"What about someone you know…better?" He was smoothing his hair down, checking his shirt cuffs.

"Well, Rodolphus is rugged," she told him straight faced, "but he's not a first born."

He threw a cushion at her. "You know full well I mean me."

She laughed, throwing it back. "I am not sure I like to think of you as manly and rugged."

][[][][][][][][][

My darling Andromeda,

I am so very disappointed in you. First you find the most unsuitable pureblood son, and then you fail to keep him. The family has not been so disgraced since your cousin was sorted into Gryffindor. How dare you bring disrepute on our name? You are very lucky that Mr Lestrange has announced that your virtue is still intact. Of course, this will not entirely prevent rumours. I expect perfect behaviour from you over the Christmas holidays, and you are to avoid Mr Lestrange at all costs. Any hint of a scandal would ruin your chances of an appropriate future.

Your loving mother.

][[][][][][][][][

Andromeda was doing her best to finish her Transfiguration homework, but with a party in full swing in the common room, she was having little success. After the sixth time Nott had tried to persuade her to join in, she packed her belongings into her bag and headed for the library.

As it was the last day, she expected the study space to be empty, but there were a few Gryffindors interspersed with the occasional Hufflepuff. The Ravenclaws were conspicuous in their absence, and she found it strange to be in the library when none of the most studious house were there.

She made her way to the heart of the library, turning so many times that she doubted that even if Nott had followed her he would have kept up. When she decided on a desk, she spread her stationary across it, claiming it as her own. She had been working for about ten minutes when a paper aeroplane floated onto her desk

Don't normally see you in here. Are you hiding from something?

She looked around, but there was no one in the vicinity. She frowned slightly. She recognised that handwriting. She thought for a minute, before she realised. It was Ted's. She knew it because she had had to copy so many of his notes from Transfiguration, because she had not paid attention whilst wasting her time with Rabastan.

Yes, she wrote, abandoning her almost complete homework. Cyril Nott. He keeps staring at me like we're at dinner and I'm the dessert. She whispered an enchantment, and watched as the note floated over the shelves, disappearing from her line of sight.

Ah, I can see why that would be a problem. Not to mention the fact that you're not dessert. You'd have to be something savoury. Like a sausage roll or a ham sandwich. You're not sweet enough to be dessert.

Her mouth dropped open at his remarks. How dare he say she was not sweet? She could be sweet. She'd been very sweet to Rabastan. A steel shutter slammed shut in her mind. She was not going there. She would not think about Rabastan- no, not Rabastan anymore but Mr Lestrange- she would not think about Mr Lestrange, her heart was still bruised. And what would you be? A pie? Plain and boring.

Of course. Pies are interesting. They have hidden depths. Are you going home for Christmas?

Yes. I cannot miss the Winter ball; it is the highlight of the season.

I'm going home too. Gonna decorate the Christmas tree tomorrow. There's gonna be tinsel and glitter everywhere.

She laughed out loud as she imagined Ted trying to reach the top of a tree and overbalancing the entire thing.

"Shh, it's a library."

She turned, her dark eyes glinting as she found an appropriate putdown, which died in her mouth as she saw his smile. "I am aware that it is a library, Ted. There is a great big sign over the entrance."

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "I never noticed."

"How can you not have-" the question faltered, as she observed his smile grow in size. She rolled her eyes, gathering her belongings. "I am going to go to bed," she announced. "I'm not concentrating on my homework any more."

He nodded as she passed him. "Have a good Christmas."

"I intend to." She was almost round the corner when she turned back. "Happy Christmas."

He smiled again, as she disappeared. It was shaping up to be a good holiday. Andromeda didn't hate him, Tom was coming to stay for a few days, and he'd finally asked Melanie out. She'd said yes. He wandered through the library, hands in his pockets, head in the clouds. Yes, it was going to be a good Christmas.