Dora's eyes were closed. Her mother brushed something powdery across her nose and cheeks, and then gently applied something cool and gel-like to her lips.
"Stay still for one more moment. We're almost done." Andromeda said. She cast a Stasis Charm on Dora's face and blew a puff of air at her. "I believe you're ready. Stand up and open your eyes."
Dora stood from her stool and blinked her eyes open. The girl in the reflection was the prettiest she had ever seen herself.
"Mama, I'm pretty!" she gasped, seeing the glow on her skin and her glossy, pink lips.
"You're always pretty, darling." Andromeda kissed the top of her head and smiled. "With or without makeup."
Mother and daughter stood next to each other in front of the mirror. Dora's eyelids had a soft, gold glow to them. Her mother's were dark and smoky, with her gold even more dramatic against the dark grey charcoal. Andromeda's lipstick was a deep, rich red, like a ruby, while Dora wore a pale pink gloss.
Andromeda stroked Dora's cheek with her finger. "You'll have to wait until you're older for me to let you wear what I have. At your age, a little goes a long way."
Dora felt her cheeks grow warm as she observed herself in the mirror. The dress robes she was wearing for the gala were the color of a ripe plum. Little stars were embroidered in golden thread, forming what looked like a random pattern, but when the robes were laid out in full, the stars formed the outline of a fire-breathing dragon. Her hair was golden brown for the night to match the gleaming gold of her robes, but muted enough to appear natural. She felt she could see herself as a lady, a grown witch, rather than the girl in her childhood pictures.
"Before I forget—" Andromeda opened a drawer in her changing room. Dora flushed when she saw the various witch products within. "Do you have enough for tonight?"
Dora nodded but her mother took out two white, folded napkins and tucked them into a discreet pocket in her handbag.
The arrival of Dora's first monthly cycle in the last two days added to her burgeoning sense of womanhood. Fortunately, her cycle had arrived the night she got home from Hogwarts, rather than arriving in the dead of the night like it had for her dormmate, Flora, or during Transfiguration, like Iris. Her cramps weren't so bad but after three days, it still felt uncomfortable to walk around with something between her legs.
"No one can tell I've got the thing, right?" Dora asked, gesturing to the napkins.
"Unless you tell them yourself, no one knows," Andromeda replied. "If you need to excuse yourself at any time tonight, let me know. I can always go with you if you need help."
Dora shook her head and followed her mother out of the changing room. Curiously, Andromeda stopped at the door and turned around. Her brow came together and a delicate blush crept up her neck and cheeks.
"One more thing before we go," she murmured, "do you remember what I said about the Muggleborn Healer?"
"To be nice to him? But not too nice?"
"Be careful with him. Your father, your grandfather, and our entire family will be there. I can keep your friend Maisie's blood status to myself, but I can't do anything about the Healer."
Dora darted her eyes around her mother's bedroom, as if someone was listening to them. Her voice dropped down to a whisper. "Mama, is something bad going to happen to him if we're too nice?"
Andromeda's breath hitched and her lips trembled for a second before she masked her features to something more neutral. Dora narrowed her eyes at her mother, both suspicious and worried for the Healer's safety.
"Healer Tonks is a grown up man," Andromeda replied, her voice hushed. "Remember that your grandfather doesn't want me to be friends with him."
"But you said you didn't want to be—" Dora stopped herself as her mother's eyes drooped. "Okay, Mama. I'll be good. I don't want to get you in trouble with Grandfather."
Dora wanted to insist on knowing what her grandfather could do to the Healer. It seemed to make her mother sad to keep talking about it, so Dora kept her mouth shut. As she watched Andromeda adjust the pearl-and-diamond earrings on her earlobes before they stepped out of the bedroom, Dora imagined her as one of the older Slytherin girls at school. Perhaps one of them was friends with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff boy, and one day when they were done with their studies, they would never see each other again.
The injustice of it all made Dora's heart ache. Andromeda cleared her throat and clutched at the emerald and diamond necklace around her neck. She put her hands on Dora's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "It's time to go, darling. Your father and brothers are waiting for us."
"Do you think Father will like our new robes?" asked Dora, breaking the short silence on their way to the grand sitting room.
"I believe so," Andromeda replied with a soft smile. "Your Auntie Burgie designed mine, and I designed yours."
Dora grinned up at her smiling mother, happy she could make Andromeda smile after looking so sad. "You look beautiful in yours, Mama. When I'm as tall as you, will you let me borrow them?"
Andromeda chuckled and shook her head. "You'll have to be married by the time you can wear something like this. Boys won't be able to take their eyes off of you."
Dora felt her neck flush at the idea of getting boys' attention, the way Narcissa and the older girls did. She grinned to herself, thinking of boys fawning over her, but not the boys she knew. There would have to be better ones available when she grew up.
"We're ready," Andromeda called, upon entering the sitting room holding the rest of the family. Dora rushed to greet Eunice, whose aquamarine robes were like hers, but they had a dainty pattern that created a dahlia's full bloom when her robes were laid out.
"Hi, Eunice! Hi, baby!"
Dora smiled at her blushing sister-in-law. Eunice already had a baby bump and had even felt the baby move, but the movements were too faint for anyone else to feel. Dora hoped that by the time she went back to Hogwarts after the holidays, Eunice and Malcolm's baby would kick strong enough for her to feel it.
"We mustn't be late," Andromeda said, gathering everyone's attention. "Nymphadora, come with me and your father. Malcolm and Eunice next, and then Claudius."
Dora joined her parents in the Floo and spun around until they appeared in a brightly lit, open-air space. Her eyes were immediately assaulted by flashes of cameras. Before she could yelp from the onslaught of even more cameras, one of her parents cast a charm that made the flashes go away. Seconds later, the others arrived and a grey-haired wizard came out from behind a banner with a smile. Dora recognized him as the Head Governor of the hospital, the wizard whose skin she accidentally had erupted in barnacles and spikes. He was coming to greet the family and didn't even wince at Dora.
The fireplaces continued lighting up and Black family members trickled out of them. Dora beamed when her Auntie Burgie told her she looked just like Andromeda (and Dora didn't fail to hear how many compliments her mother kept getting over her appearance). Even Narcissa, with shiny Lucius at her side, mentioned that Dora looked like a proper girl. Grandmother Irma didn't find anything to criticize, nor did Auntie Druella.
Other guests started arriving. Dora waved at Iris, grateful that the Macmillans were good-natured purebloods who had come to support the fund at St. Mungo's. When the stuffy greetings were over, Dora looked forward to finding Iris and spending the night away from the dance floor.
There was a sudden dip in the conversation on Dora's right. She looked up to see a small group of Healers in their lime green robes coming to greet the Travers and Black families. Dora had seen some of them before—they were all Healers in the pediatric department—but Healer Tonks wasn't among them yet. She watched each Healer introduce themselves and shake her parents' hands. Dora shook their hands too, deciding that she would copy whatever her mother and father did.
The queue of Healers dwindled and it was then that Dora saw Ted at the very end of the queue. His jaw was clenched and his hands were clasped behind his back. When he came up to greet Andromeda and Byron, he didn't extend his hand as the other Healers had done.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Travers," Ted said cordially, nodding at each of them. "I hope you can forgive my imminent absence. I have a particularly trying patient downstairs. I merely wanted to thank you in person for your donation, and then attend to my casework."
Byron scrutinized Ted and nodded curtly back at him. Ted didn't look Andromeda in the eye, nor did he have a smile for Dora. Instead, he bowed and took off for the lifts. Dora was taken aback by the Healer's cold behavior and looked up at her parents for guidance.
"That's the Mudblood?" Byron said, not unquietly. Dora noticed Ted's shoulders tense as he waited for the lift, his back still turned to them.
"It is," Andromeda confirmed, looking pointedly away.
"Good riddance," Pollux said, sneering in Ted's direction. The lift doors opened and Ted slipped through them.
As the pediatric department's Mediwitches and Mediwizards came up to greet the Traverses, thus distracting them from Ted, Dora feared her father and grandfather had hurt Healer Tonks's feelings.
She let her gaze wander to the lifts, but Ted was already gone, as if he never existed at all.
"Nymphadora, darling," she heard her mother say, "we're going to be introduced."
Dora blinked rapidly and turned her head, where a few cameras were waiting to take pictures of the family. She smiled and stood between her parents. While her eyes were blinded by the flashes, and her ears were filled with the clicks , snaps , and shuttering sounds of the photography, she vaguely heard the announcements by the Board of Governors.
". . . with this generous donation by the Travers family," she heard a booming voice say, "we will be able to save countless more lives . . ."
Applause followed the short speech. Dora felt herself being led away to a table laden with food, and when she looked down at the chairs, she noticed they were made of an ivory fabric. Her abdomen cramped uncomfortably and she wondered if it was time to find a bathroom.
"Mama, Mama, Mama," she said urgently, tapping on her mother's shoulder.
"Nymphadora, what is it?" Andromeda's brow was knit together and the fancy witch on the other side of the table turned her nose up at Dora.
"I have go to the bathroom for the—the thing—"
Andromeda's expression softened. "Do you need help?"
"No, I'm okay, I just wanted to tell you."
"Take the lifts to the next floor. You'll find a bathroom there. Take your time, and if you have any trouble, I'm sure you can find a Mediwitch to help you."
"Will anyone be upset if I—"
"Go, darling. No one will be upset if you miss the start of dinner."
Andromeda gave her a reassuring smile and Dora felt for the pocket in her robes that contained the napkins. She excused herself to the others and then made her way down to the next floor; she rehearsed the steps in her mind for changing the heavy cloth. If she were at home, she'd simply take the dirty ones and put them in the laundry basket for the elves to clean, and at Hogwarts, it was the same. But without the elves and without knowing the charms necessary to clean the cloths herself (or knowing how long her cycle would tolerate the self-cleaning models that were popular lately), she had to rely on disposable ones that attached to a sanitary belt.
"You can do it," she told herself quietly, as a particularly nasty cramp tore through her. "You're a lady now. You can do this by yourself." She scrunched her face and hissed through the pain; grown up witches did this, and she was growing up.
The walk down the quiet corridor in the hospital was lonely, and she thought she saw a figure in the shadows, but it was probably just a trick of the light. She found the witches' room, and, taking a steadying breath, walked inside.
The gala was off to a smashing start.
Andromeda's hard work had paid off. She watched the Galleons flow into the fund, which tripled the original amount the Traverses donated. They wouldn't need to add another Knut to the fund for at least five years, and if they held an annual gala like this, their initial donation would be sufficient to keep the fund alive in perpetuity.
What began as an engineered way to have Ted and Nymphadora get to know each other from afar had become a massive victory for Andromeda. From the way that everyone complimented her appearance to the monetary success of the fundraising effort, not a soul could criticize her. Her only regret was seeing Ted disappear so soon from the gala. However, with her father in good spirits and her husband shaking many important hands, congratulating Byron and his wife on their charitable contributions, Andromeda focused on the positives. She would see Ted again in a few months' time to reassess the pediatric department's financial needs. He could wait while she rested on her laurels.
"Mrs. Travers?" a voice called from behind her.
Andromeda turned around, halfway through taking a sip of her wine, and found a Mediwitch standing there. Fearing the worst for Nymphadora, she stood at once.
"I have a message for you," said the Mediwitch. "A few of the Healers in the potions laboratory wanted to give you their gratitude for their expanded stores. They would be here, but their brews need careful supervision tonight." The Mediwitch held out a folded note, but to Andromeda's surprise, her name was written in Ted's hand.
"Would they like a reply?" she asked, her unease growing at what the message could contain.
"I believe it would be greatly appreciated, ma'am."
Andromeda tore open the letter, confused by its contents, and distinctly aware that her parents and husband were watching her every move.
I saw her in the corridor. Has she been hurt again? She was holding her stomach and talking to herself.
It took a few moments for Andromeda to understand what Ted was trying to tell her. She could only guess that he had seen Nymphadora on her way to the bathroom; Andromeda didn't put it past her daughter to give herself encouragements in her discomfort.
"Do you have a quill, miss?" asked Andromeda, ensuring her smile and tone were pleasant. The Mediwitch produced a quill with its own ink reservoir, a necessity for the Healers writing orders on the go, and Andromeda wrote a quick reply.
She just became a young woman. All is well.
She tapped her wand on the parchment, which folded it back up into a neat square, and then handed it back to the Mediwitch.
"Please see to it that the Healers receive this note. I hope I can send a longer message in the morning."
The Mediwitch took the note and Andromeda returned to her table. Luckily, with the drinks flowing and her family well on their way to jolly inebriation, no one raised a brow at the unusual occurrence.
The gala continued with its roaring success.
Dora stepped out of the bathroom with a satisfied smile. The sanitary belt stayed in place, the old napkin went into the bin, and a new napkin was securely in place. Her hands were thoroughly washed and she felt good about taking care of herself. With her cramps calming down, she felt ready to go back to the gala and sit on the ivory chair.
"Oh!" she squeaked, feeling something solid in front of her.
She had just run headfirst into Healer Tonks.
"Excuse me, miss." Ted's eyes widened when they met hers. "Dora. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. I was reading this, er—" He held up a letter, his face flushing pink under the hospital lights.
"Letter?"
"Yes," he murmured, "a letter. Are you . . . well?"
Dora looked down at her robes. There was no evidence of blood and she had inspected herself thoroughly in the mirror before getting out of the bathroom.
"I'm all right. I had to go to the bathroom."
"Right, that's good. Do you need help getting back to the lifts?"
"No, I'm okay."
Ted breathed softly. His eyes flitted to the lifts, from which they could hear the faint sounds from the fundraiser upstairs.
"Are you coming back to the party?"
"I'm afraid not," Ted replied. His eyes weren't as bright as Dora remembered them, and on closer inspection, she thought they were wet.
"Is your patient very ill?"
"Patient—oh yes, my patient. Yes, quite ill. Kind of you to ask."
"Erm," Dora stammered, trying to excuse herself to return to the gala, "I should go back."
"Of course, my apologies for getting in your way." Ted moved aside and extended his hand toward the lifts. "Enjoy yourself tonight. Give my best to your . . . your family."
Dora started to walk back but a prickling feeling in the back of her mind gave her another idea.
"Ted?"
"Yes, Dora?"
"I'm sorry my father and grandfather called you—they called you that name," she said quietly. "That wasn't nice of them."
Ted lifted his chin and rolled his shoulders back. "It's not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for."
"I know. I'm just sorry that they said . . . what they said."
"You're very kind to think of me, Dora. Your mother would be proud of you."
Dora parted her lips, a question on the tip of her tongue.
"Were you and Mama really—"
Ted's expression changed instantly. The intensity in his gaze, and the tensing of his shoulders, made Dora take a step back.
"Were your mother and I . . .?"
"At Hogwarts? At the same time?" she asked, her tone unnaturally high.
The intensity in Ted's face disappeared in a fraction of a second. Dora blinked, startled at the sudden changes.
"We were," he replied softly. "A long time ago."
"That's what she said too."
An awkward silence fell over the corridor and Dora wasn't sure how to get out of it a second time.
Ted cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you wanted to ask of me? Or any help I can give you?"
"No, thank you. I really should be going back."
"It was nice to see you, Dora," said Ted, as she pressed the button to get back in the lift. "I hope you have a happy Christmas."
He turned his back on her and began walking away as the doors closed. Though she doubted he could hear it, she wished him a happy Christmas too.