Author's note: This chapter was originally going to cover Dora's train ride to Hogwarts and the start of term feast. Andromeda had other ideas. Enjoy!

Andromeda watched as the train departed from the station, the familiar feelings of happiness and sadness filling her. She had expected that saying goodbye to her only daughter for a few months at a time would become easier over time, but the immediate feelings always returned. She wiped a few tears from her eyes and, upon turning to her husband, noticed that his face had taken on the firm stance it held when he was struggling to keep himself together.

No, it likely never grew easier to say goodbye.

She grasped onto Ted's hand, and forced a smile. "Shall we return home, and have some tea?"

Ted's smile was similarly strained. "Yes, honey."

It was rather early for lunch, and Andromeda had little appetite, so they sat on one of the sofas in the sitting room as they drank from mugs of tea. Drinking from a mug had been a change when she married--the Blacks had used tea cups that contained the family crest in perfect calligraphy--but she had adapted quickly. She'd discovered that she enjoyed the warmth of the mug in her hands, no doubt caused by the soothing liquid inside. It had made the process of having tea (or hot chocolate) a lingering experience, and a very pleasant one.

"She'll be back before long," Ted reassured her.

"I know," Andromeda agreed, "but it doesn't ease the hurt over the first day or so."

That was when they most tangibly felt their daughter's absence. As the time stretched on, they would grow used to it. The letters, too, would ease the ache of Dora's being away.

"Before long, she'll be married," Ted mused.

Andromeda gave a light laugh. "Dora's not even fourteen."

"We were eighteen," Ted reminded her, taking a drink from his mug.

"Well, we were hiding our love from my parents," Dora reminded him. "If it weren't for dear Uncle Alphard..."

Ted reached over and squeezed her hand. "He was a great man."

Andromeda nodded, feeling her throat constrict. His death had been sudden, and she was not entirely convinced that it hadn't been caused by Death Eaters, but he had been old enough that it could have been a natural one. She knew that he had helped Sirius Black after her younger cousin had left his house, and likely had left him money in his will. How shocked, how utterly disappointed, he would be to learn what had happened with those poor muggles...

"Well, I rather hope that our Dora will wait until she's at least twenty," Andromeda murmured, changing the subject. "But whoever she chooses, as long as he's not a Death Eater, I will do my best to see as a son."

Ted grinned. "I might throw a few hexes his way, just to see how he reacts."

Andromeda laughed. "Oh, yes, that would go over well!"

"She'll thank me if he turns out to be a prat," Ted remarked, "and after the dance, she will likely be fighting off the boys."

Andromeda beamed. "She's certainly becoming a beauty, and her dress robes show it better than any others."

Ted pulled her close, and then encircled his hands around her waist with ease. "She looked rather like you at our first dance, Dromeda."

She leaned into her husband's shoulders, keeping his hands around her waist with her own. Even through her corset, she could feel the warmth of his hands. "I wouldn't be surprised if she became smaller than me, and with considerably more ease."

"A fifteen inch waist is quite remarkable, sweetheart," he murmured, kissing the top of her forehead.

This was true, but a fourteen one was downright spectacular. Her mother's thirteen (and later thirteen and a half) had looked rather extreme, but fourteen? Especially with Dora's already narrow frame?

Well, Andromeda could only hope for such an achievement--that is, if her daughter wanted it.

"Thank you," Andromeda answered, turning to kiss her husband.

Then, it occurred to her that there were benefits to her daughter being away, and judging from the look on her husband's face, he had been thinking the same.

"Shall we move somewhere a bit more comfortable?" he asked, softly.

Andromeda nodded, and rose from the couch with grace. Her husband followed her to their bedroom.

That night, as she was trying to fall asleep (Ted was snoring blissfully), memories that had been at the forefront of Andromeda's mind ever since her daughter had begun lacing suddenly appeared to her. She'd been aware of the magical branches of Occlumency and Legilmency for some time, though she had never studied either. Still, the force at which the memories now appeared before her felt as though someone was using Legilmency on her. Not that it was as unpleasant as a mind attack must feel, and Andromeda closed her eyes and allowed them to open in front of her.

"You're nearly thirteen, and by Merlin, you're starting to look it!" Druella told her on her first day of holidays, scanning her and then commanding her to undress to her chemise. She pulled the fabric close around Andromeda, who knew better than to fidget. "Yes. I do believe it's time!"

"Time?" Andromeda echoed, looking up at her mother with what must have been confusion.

"To begin training your figure, of course. To have you fitted for a proper corset, so you can begin the process of becoming a real beauty," she explained, briskly, but with a smile. "You are developing, my dear, and we must not hesitate if we wish to achieve the best results before you marry."

"I was your age when we began," Bella put in, also smiling at her. "Do you remember?"

Andromeda shrugged, just a bit. They were two years apart, and she had been more preoccupied with starting Hogwarts than the corsets that had arrived for her older sister. She vaguely recalled her mother taking her aside to lace her, and Bellatrix looking rather less at ease than usual, but only at the beginning.

Besides, they never dressed to show off their waists, not with their childhood loose robes, so she hadn't exactly noticed her older sister's shrinking waist.

Now, of course, Bella cinched in her daily robes with a sash whenever she wasn't in class, and Andromeda knew it was the smallest of her year.

"And look at you now. Sixteen and at fourteen and a half inches! You'll be at fourteen before long, I expect," Druella added, turning her smile to Andromeda's oldest sister.

Most likely.

Bella beamed, and Andromeda smiled, trying to look eager.

She was, really. It would be exciting, this new step towards becoming an adult, and far less messy or painful than her monthly cycles.

But she was also rather nervous.

Not one to put anything off, Druella whisked Andromeda off to Madam Pomfrey's that afternoon. As they waited to be seen, Andromeda pestered her mother with questions.

"Does she make corsets as well as robes?" Andromeda asked.

"She does not," Druella answered. "Her specialty is outfitting witches and wizards with robes. Her cousin, however, occupies in the Ladies Section of her store, and the family has made corsets for over three hundred years. My mother purchased mine and Walburga's, and I purchase any new ones I require from her. While there are half bloods that have married their way into the family, the work of the Barnett's remains immaculate."

"Will it be painful?" Andromeda asked.

Her mother laughed, a bit darkly. "It hurt very much under my mother's training, but I don't take that mindset. Bellatrix experienced very little in the way of pain, as long as she was obedient, and you will as well."

This wasn't entirely reassuring, but Andromeda supposed she would prefer this over an outright lie.

She did wonder how it felt, to be laced up in a corset. She imagined it would be rather harder to breathe. Of course, they contained steel, so would it feel as though she was in a type of cage? Hopefully not.

When the witch came out, she was professional while very deferential to Druella Black. Not that she ignored Andromeda, exactly, as she spent most of the time measuring her in very intimate ways (but she knew better than to squirm). Still, her focus was on her mother. Andromeda was rather let down that, even after vnearly an hour, and when they left, it was with the promise of corsets, rather than the actual garments.

"Two standard ones at twenty inches for beginning wear, and an extra two at eighteen for when your daughter is ready. A ball corset set for sixteen inches, and four pairs of sleeping corsets at twenty and eighteen inches apiece," the corsetierre read off. "No punishment corsets, then? You are quite sure?"

"Quite." Druella's tone suddenly grew harsh. "I will employ less drastic methods to ensure there are no tampering of laces."

"Of course, Lady Black," she said, rushing over her words. "I do apologize!"

Andromeda's mother merely nodded, as though dismissing a house elf. Which, to her, the corsetierre likely was--except she worked for wages.

"How soon will they be ready?"

"It typically takes a week, but in your case, we will have them the day after tomorrow," she promised. "I and my assistants shall begin immediately, and I promise they will be of the highest quality."

Druella nodded. "Your work with dear Bellatrix was quite extraordinary. We have already seen improvements on her hips."

The corsetierre beamed, then immediately turned back her expression into a smile. "I am so glad to be of service. Will she be requiring any others at this point?"

"Not yet. We have yet to close her fourteen inches. You are aware, of course, that my waist was but thirteen upon my wedding day, and well into my twenties," Druella explained, and the witch gave an appreciative and respectful murmur. "Sadly, after bearing three daughters, it has grown a half an inch. All the same, I am hoping to obtain a similar measurement for all my daughters."

The corsetierre curtsied. "We will certainly do our best to meet your needs."

"Yes," Druella said, and Andromeda could hear the note of threat in her voice. "I am certain you will."

The corsets arrived at the house at noon of the day promised, and Andromeda was a mix of excitement and nerves. Her mother had told her that, like Bellatrix, she would be taken down to twenty inches immediately, and be expected to remain at this measurement the entire day.

"You might find four inches to be challenging, but my mother took myself and Walburga down to eighteen immediately. Now, that was a test of endurance!" She shuddered. "She also applied the use of the punishment corset upon any complaint, which I have determined not to do with my girls. Not," she added, with a stern look in her eye, "that this gives you license to tamper with your laces or act as though you're about to faint at the slightest perceived discomfort. Am I understood, Andromeda?"

"Yes, Mother."

Typically, the corsetierre performed the initial lacing, but Druella had relegated this role to Bellatrix.

"Your sister will be responsible for seeing you laced in until you can manage on your own. You," she added, with a glance at the corsetry, "may leave now."

The witch hid a startled look before recovering herself, curtsying nearly to the ground in deference, and immediately taking her leave.

"Mother? Might I see the corset, first?" she asked, timidly.

Druella smiled. "Of course you may. It is certainly a work of beauty."

Upon holding the corset, Andromeda felt that she could not be very afraid of it. In fact, a feeling of affection formed in her, almost as strong as for her favorite robes. White with a lovely mixture of satin ribbons and embroidery, it looked to be one of the prettiest things she'd ever laid her eyes on. And, closing at twenty inches, it did not appear to be so very small as to be unbearable. The previous night, Bellatrix had told her what to expect--the feel of a very firm hug, perhaps some excitement, and the feeling of not being able to breathe as deeply as you would like, but it hardly mattered, because you would be held so tightly.

"It's one of the loveliest feelings you can know," her sister had promised her.

So, Andromeda handed the corset back to her mother with a smile, who laughed as she handed it to Bellatrix. She waited, excited, as her sister fastened the clasps around her front. Already, it felt rather snug, and she could imagine what it would be like upon closing. She hid a grin.

"With a four inch initial reduction, spacing is imperative," Druella told them both. "Were Bella to tighten you in all at once, you might be inclined to faint. Even though you still have plenty of room in your lungs, a sense of panic at growing small so quickly might overtake you. We shall, then, act in installments. Bellatrix, first lace her to twenty two."

Andromeda felt the tugging at her back, and the sudden feel of pressure against her sides. She could still breathe--or so she thought, as she dared not let out her breath--but she knew there was not quite enough room for her lungs to fill.

But oh, how it was worth it! When Bella tied off the laces, Andromeda felt as though she was wrapped in the warmest and most secure hug she'd ever known. Her parents did not participate in physical affection very often, of course, so this constant hug felt so nice that she let out a sigh.

Druella looked pleased. "You have taken well to the initial lacing. Well done. You may sit for a bit, and let your body adapt. You as well, Bella."

They took their seats on a sofa that was so soft, Andromeda used to nap in it when she was younger. But she could not lean back now, she realized quickly, as the corset held her upright.

All the same, it was no less pleasant, and Andromeda simply sat still as she savored the feeling of being hugged.

"How are you managing?" Druella asked, after several moments.

"Fine," Andromeda answered, easily. Then, she added, "Could I be laced in a bit more?"

Her mother smiled, a real smile. "Of course. Bellatrix, take her in another inch, once she's held her breath properly."

This was a bit more difficult than before, but not terribly. She felt the pulling at her back, and a rush of excitement as the corset pulled her stomach in a bit more, and her small breasts a bit higher. When Bella tied off the laces, it wasn't exactly a struggle to breathe, but it was certainly tighter than before.

Now entirely unpleasant, although Andromeda recognized that there was yet another inch to go, and hoped it wouldn't take away too much of her diminishing ability to catch her breath.

Druella studied her. "You will need a bit more time than before, to gather yourself, I expect."

"Yes, Mother," Andromeda managed.

She wasn't gasping, but she was certainly aware of each breath.

Bellatrix studied her. "Mother, ought we wait for her body to adjust before..."

"We are."

Druella's voice was not cold, but it was stern. Andromeda realized that, short of fainting outright, she would be taken in the final inch.

Well, the final inch for today.

It was a half-hour before Druella determined Andromeda to be ready. Bella had to pull harder than before to get the last inch shut, and Andromeda was gasping for breath when it was finally finished. She felt as though she had been running, despite simply standing in place, and while she was aware of the hug, it felt more like a hard grip around her frame than the warm and comfortable hug it had been before. She wanted to cry. Why did her mother have to take her in four inches in one day? Why not two--or even three?

Then, she heard a clicking sound, and it was as though an invisible padlock had been attached to the eyelets.

"What's...that?" she panted, putting her hands to the eyelets in the back.

"A locking charm, and be grateful that's all I will use," Druella explained, her tone rather warmer than her words would have indicated. "As I told you before, my own mother used punishment corsets when we misbehaved, and if you think yours is tight now, imagine being laced past fainting point simply for pointing out you can't easily breathe. All the same," she added, in her usual manner, "you must be laced tightly at all times for your waist to diminish. How do you expect I managed to get to thirteen? Or Bellatrix to nearly fourteen, and still in school? But your body will adjust, and I will allow you to sleep an inch looser on most nights."

Andromeda understood all of this, but didn't think she had the breath to say more than, "Yes, Mother."

There were no lessons in decorum that day, so Andromeda simply sat quietly and tried to read from her schoolbooks. That helped--it took her mind away from her heavily encased body--and by the time she finished the very long chapter on what could go wrong during the Animagus process, she felt that she could breathe a bit easier.

She did have to force herself to eat part of her dinner, which was difficult because there simply wasn't much room for the food to go. However, vegetables seemed easy enough to eat, so she finished all of those and not much else. All the same, Andromeda felt unpleasantly full, and dying for her mother to announce it was time for bed.

The girls usually prepared for bed around nine, including baths. When the time came, though, Druella told Andromeda she would go without one today.

"I will allow an inch reduction in your corset, but you ought not have it removed from your body on your first day," she explained, and Andromeda could hear the sympathy in her voice.

"Yes, Mother," she answered.

After her mother laced Bellatrix for bed, she performed the unlocking charm once Andromeda had removed her robe. Clad only in her chemise and corset, she wondered if her mother would perform a Switching Charm to get her into her nightgown.

Bella loosened the corset by an inch, and Andromeda had to restrain herself not to sigh in relief. While rather tighter than she would have liked, the strong grip on her frame was gone, and she could breathe normally with relative ease.

No doubt her mother could see her relief, but issued only a cautionary warning. "It may feel less challenging, but you may find it difficult to sleep the first few nights. Bellatrix, will you sleep next to her?"

"Of course, Mother." Bella put an arm around Andromeda. "If you wake up, I will hear you."

Druella nodded. "You may put on your nightgown now, sweetheart."

"Thank you."

The following night was a long one. Andromeda climbed into bed and maneuvered herself into her standard sleeping position on her side, but it was less comfortable than usual. Bella took an extra pillow from her own bed, and had Andromeda lay with it under her back. This helped, although she hadn't realized how much she took deep breaths before sleeping before doing so was very difficult. It was ages before she fell asleep, and suddenly, she was plagued by nightmares. She wasn't entirely sure what was so terrifying, only it woke her up and she was gasping for breath.

And she couldn't breathe, not at all!

"Andromeda! Look at me!" Bella was shaking her, and then her sister's wand lit. "You can breathe, it's all right. Slowly. Slowly!" short repeated. "Don't try to swallow up the air!"

Andromeda tried to obey, and gradually, she felt that she could breathe more or less freely. Still, she couldn't take deep breaths easily.

"Better?" Bellatrix asked, running a hand through Andromeda's hair.

Andromeda nodded, trying not to cry. "I hate this."

Bellatrix hugged her. "You'll adapt in a few days. Your body, anyway. It will feel tight, still, but a good kind of tight."

"The hug kind?"

Bella nodded. "Mother wants the best for us, even if it's unpleasant now. You'll see, and you will thank her when you have a thirteen inch waist like hers."

Andromeda shuddered. At this point, she'd be happy never going below twenty.

Now, Andromeda returned to reality. Upon reflection, for the most part, the first week had been the worst. Her classmates had ruminated that the effort it took to go below eighteen inches (for two, seventeen) had been harder, but upon being taken down four inches on the first day, the additional tightenings hadn't been nearly as bad. Perhaps that had been her mother's intent, to make the hardest part the beginning. After all, Bella had been taken to twenty on her first day, as had Narcissa, and she wasn't sure the extra inch or half-inch around her frame had made much of a difference when the end result was the same.

Or, perhaps she had suffered the most back then. In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter?

Even when her mother had been trying to reduce her fifteen inch waist to fourteen, she knew when no (immediate) tightening could be achieved. Being breathless was one thing, being unconscious another entirely. An unconscious daughter would soon die, and could not be married off to a pure blood family.

But no, that wasn't fair. Bella and Rudolphus had been happy enough, devoted entirely to You Know Who at the expense of all else. As far as she knew, Narcissa and Lucius were similarly happy in their own way, especially since they had evaded Azkaban. Andromeda supposed that her youngest sister adhered to the beliefs of pure blood superiority over extermination of the muggle and muggle born population, but she might be optimistic in her view of her sister.

Andromeda didn't entirely regret her mother's way of training her to be a beauty and a good wife. She'd rejected many of the values, of course, but she could see that she was a better person for how she'd been raised. And maintaining a waist of sixteen inches, while likely considered to be downright stout by her maternal family, made her a beauty among most and certainly (Andromeda blushed) by her husband.

The odd thing was, she reflected, she never had given much thought to whether Dora would undertake a similar journey as her. Yes, Andromeda had taken all of her corsets with her upon leaving, not just the ones that fit her now, and placed a Perservation charm on them upon learning of her pregnancy. And after giving birth and needing to be fitted for new ones that fit her wider hips and breasts (she would never take the route of her older sister and add extra boning to her hips...), she didn't even think to discard her others.

Had Andromeda thought that her infant daughter might one day wish to wear one? Or, perhaps, a granddaughter? Had they simply been souvenirs of her traditional upbringing?

How glad she was when Dora had hated bras that they were there. Even if they had needed to get her fitted for night corsets, that had been well after she enjoyed wearing them. Yes, it had been an inclination to save them, but how fortuitous!

Would Dora surpass her own measurements? She rather thought her daughter would, but she wouldn't pressure her to do so. Her daughter's determination to be comfortable, along with her own decision to slowly acclimate her daughter to the ways of waist training, were working in her favor. If there was one advantage to not seeing her only daughter for months on end, it was that Andromeda would likely see progress at each visit. As long as she took it slowly, and didn't yield to peer pressure in either direction.

Andromeda glanced over at her sleeping husband, and curled up against him. Still sleeping, he wrapped his arms around her, and then placed his hands around her waist.

She outright grinned, then surrendered herself to sleep.

Author's note:

In other corset related stories (fictional and memoirs), the corsetierre traditionally performs the lacing up when the woman or teenager begins to wear them. In an earlier chapter, I veer from this when Andromeda recounts that her mother laced Bellatrix, and then set Bellatrix with the responsibility of lacing her. I expected to have some difficulty resolving this potential inconsistency with what I had previously read.

However, the reasoning became quite clear. From a practical stance, the corsetierre would not be present daily to lace either daughter up, while Bella would be. Second, I expect that the extreme pure blood and money make you superior to all mindset of the Blacks and other likeminded families would mean treating ANY kind of people who work with a level of disparagement. Druella Black might hire out someone to produce her daughters' corsets, but the task of lacing up would be too intimate for a lowly person to do. With some exceptions, perhaps.

Additionally, Druella and Andromeda's mindset about self lacing are fairly similar: you should know how to do it yourself so you can be in full control of how tight they are. Of course, Druella would expect you to lace to the point of being very challenged, while Andromeda to the point of comfort.

We must also remember that Druella's mother was far worse than her, according to Andromeda's recollections, so what may seem harsh was comparatively easy. The law of comparisons and all that.