Chapter 14: Little Sisters and First Movements

"You know what the great thing about babies is?

They are like little bundles of hope.

Like the future in a basket."

~ Hold Me Closer, Necromancer

A window unlatched, and a cold gale making a shrill noise swept into the chamber, blowing out the fire in the hearth. Narcissa started out of her sleep, panting; but her fright had not been caused by the window's opening. In fact, she was grateful for it, as it had awoken her from a most terrifying nightmare. Swathed with cold sweat, she placed the soles of her feet against the wooden ground, and shivered from its coolness—shivered from recalling her dream; she had seen her little boy dying in her arms… over and over again. And, each time, she had not been able to stop him from slipping away.

Ever since Hermione's extempore kiss, Narcissa was being haunted even more by memories of his death. The trembling witch rose and seized her robe, wrapping it tightly against herself, drawing from it all the warmth she could before ambling towards the open window.

When she closed it, she sighed, as if the exertion had taken great effort.

Damn Hermione, she then thought in her head. Damn her for being the bearer of havoc, for making everything terribly confusing and unnerving (for making her heart un-numbed). What had made Hermione—that foolish, quixotic witch—think that she could possibly understand her?

The audacity… !

Her jaws tightened, and she would have flung more curses at Hermione, but she was suddenly interrupted; her eyes expanded while her brows furrowed. There was a fluttering sensation deep within her womb. It felt like butterflies gently flapping their wings against the walls of her abdomen. She realized she had felt it before, uncertain as to when (delusional, she knew it was when she had been kissed), but she had thought nothing of it then.

Slowly, she placed a shaking hand against the small bump, all of the sudden, noticing it had grown. Her entire hand could not cover it anymore.

Narcissa lifted her gaze from her abdomen to the window; she could see the first snowfall of the year. The grounds had been rendered into a sparkling white blanket. It was December. Yule was around the corner. Fresh beginnings (she wondered if she could ever have fresh beginnings). Narcissa began to count time, and soon understood she was now eighteen weeks along. Four and a half months had passed by. In about five months, in her arms, she would be holding her daughter.

Narcissa thought of Draco dying in her arms.

And trembled.

She was certain everything she loved was destined to wilt, which is why she feared loving her daughter, feared loving Herm…

Nevermind.

She felt the fluttering again. Gentle and soft and loving… reassuring her that it needed her love, that it wanted to be loved, and wanted to love her.

A small tear fell down her cheek, gone unnoticed.

Narcissa suddenly started to panic; her heart was pounding loudly. She began to pant. She couldn't breathe, so she opened the window she had just closed, and let the cold gale glide past her perspiring skin.

She inhaled.

This was real.

Breathe.

She was going to have a baby.

(She forgot to breathe).

With Hermione.

Narcissa gasped for air. There was a crazed look in her exquisite, pale eyes; she appeared as if she had never truly considered the repercussions of having a child with Hermione before. Cold water poured down on her. She understood there was no escaping: Hermione would be in her life now. Always. How would she hide from her? She couldn't bear it if those maddening (beautiful) brown eyes of her wandered through her innermost self… (as if she was something that could be wandered through!).

Did Hermione not realize her walls were there for a reason?

She needed them, so she would not need anyone.

They made her strong.

But if they made her strong, why did she feel so weak right now? (And why had she felt compelled to kiss her back? How could she, viewed by many as the Queen of Slytherins, desire self-destruction over self-preservation?).

Perhaps, she had been hiding for too long, she thought. And carrying her soul all to herself for this long had become a secret impatiently waiting to be told. But, she started to worry… what if her soul was not… lovable? (Not that she thought she needed to be loved, for she felt she was too proud for love). Her heart was most certainly tainted. She was quite positive. How could it not be with all the darkness and wickedness she had witnessed?… If thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee…

And it had stared back at her.

She remembered Draco dying in her arms.

Her love was toxic.

Narcissa was sure she was better off not being in love at all (little did the witch realize, she had just admitted to being in love; she foolishly believed love was something she could control: something one could smother and crush and forget… as if love was not stubborn and undaunted).

When she had regained some equanimity, she lit the hearth with her wand, and being awfully exhausted, returned to her bed. But fortunately, this time when sleep came to her, she dreamt of soft limbs entangled, and gentle whispers under bedsheets… (these were also the sort of dreams that visited her more often these days).

The next afternoon, there was a knock on her door. Narcissa groaned softly as she awoke from the sound, unused to being disturbed. One of the few gifts of living entirely alone in her ancestral manor was untroubled sleep (that is, when her mind decided to be hushed).

"Wake up, darling! It's me," she heard a female voice, "your most favourite person in the entire world."

Narcissa groaned again, now knowing who the intruder was. She grabbed her robe swiftly off the chair by the antiquated davenport and marched angrily towards the door. She hauled it open.

Andromeda smiled. Then, her eyes travelled to Narcissa's waist; the silhouette of the growing bump could be seen properly in her thin, silken nightgown. Narcissa noticed where her sister's attention had travelled, and sighed melancholically. "I shall be looking horrid in a few months."

"No," said Andromeda with a snide smirk and her head tilted up; she walked into the chamber proudly. She was a Black, after all… despite not being a proper one (then again, thought Narcissa: Andromeda, Sirius, Regulus… and even her, none of them had been proper ones; maybe Blacks were meant to be rebels, after all, thought Narcissa; or maybe, her generation had been a let down…). "You shan't be looking horrid, for you were born looking horrid," finished Andromeda.

At this, Narcissa chuckled; her teasing sister had lightened her mood.

"Gods," complained Andromeda, whose eyes were inspecting her surroundings. "Your chamber looks like Slytherin Dungeon. It's so dark in here." She quickly scurried towards the windows, and pulled the curtains wide open. Then, she unlatched the window. "Some fresh air," she explained, as she breathed in the crisp air that swept into the room.

Meanwhile, Narcissa was squinting her eyes at the incoming bright light. She had covered them with her palms, groaning again; her mood had dampened once more.

Andromeda turned around from the window, and rolled her eyes at her melodramatic sister. "Must you always be so angst-filled?" she asked. "Come on, don't sulk — it's unbecoming. You're reminding me of our late friend, Severus."

Narcissa's hands dropped to her side. "And you're reminding me of Maman," she countered. She was blinking rapidly, as her vision was adjusting to the light. When it had, she pursed her lips, furious. "Why are you here?" she asked.

"Why shouldn't I be here?" Andromeda challenged. "I know you don't have other engagements. From what I recall, you're unemployed, and the most affluent socialite in Wizarding England. You have all the time and money in the world to waste."

Narcissa tightened the ropes of her robe around her waist, as she went to the windows where Andromeda was standing. She closed the window and pulled together the curtains again. Once content with the ambience in her chamber, she replied,"Unemployed and the most affluent, perhaps. But, I don't consider myself a … socialite; it has been quite some time since I have socialized…" The stressed word left a sour taste in her mouth.

Andromeda huffed, while pulling the curtains open again and reopening the window. Narcissa grumbled behind her, muttering profanities; Andromeda found it quite unlike her. "While I know you've been enjoying your self-enforced isolation from high society, you've paid no mind to my company… until now." Andromeda turned to face her sister, who was standing behind her. "And you never curse... So, tell me— what's the bloody matter with you?"

With her arms folded around her arm like a petulant and spoiled child, Narcissa turned her face away from Andromeda. "Stop interrogating me," she said darkly. "I am not a child."

"Stop interrogating you—or what?" answered Andromeda, amused yet annoyed.

Narcissa remained mute, as she walked towards her bed and plopped down. She sat there very still, and started gawking at the marble ground.

"You'll ignore me? Fine. Do so," said Andromeda. "But ignore me whilst we shop." She walked towards Narcissa's closet and rummaged through all her couture clothing until she found the loosest gown she could. She tossed it at her sister's face. Narcissa flinched. "You'll be needing some new clothes. The ones you have now won't be fitting you soon."

"I wish we never reconciled," grumbled Narcissa.

Andromeda snorted. "Wear your clothes!" she ordered, ignoring her cranky sister's remark, having blamed it on her hormones; and, she was also quite certain her sister had been rendered into an angst-filled adolescent by something that had occurred the night she had made Hermione follow her. She shook her head while Narcissa changed begrudgingly into her frock. Why did her sister always have to make things so complicated for herself? Surely, she was not truly an imbecile; she had been the greatest witch of her generation.

Narcissa soon looked at her with her tired, grey eyes. She had finished changing into her dress. "Will … any of your friends be coming?" she asked slowly.

Andromeda knew she was referring to one friend in particular: Hermione. "No," she answered.

Silver eyes vacillated between relief and disappointment. Andromeda shook her head again; Narcissa was a genius; sure, she could believe that. But she was an absolute moron when it came to comprehending her emotions. "Ready? Shall we go?" she then asked.

"If you were to grant me my will, no. I wouldn't," whispered Narcissa, as if she were being held hostage.

"Stop sulking," she scolded.

Pale brows furrowed. "Will you stop telling me what to do?" Narcissa hissed.

Andromeda huffed, exasperated. Her eyes darkened. Little shit… Little sisters would always be little sisters. She grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her out of the chamber.

"Must you be such a brute?" lamented Narcissa theatrically as she rubbed her wrist, while following her down to the drawing room.

"Wear your coat," she replied, ignoring her petulance once more.

"Kingsley was bloody annoying today," said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione, nodding slowly. They were sitting at a cafe in Diagon Alley. Through the windows, Hermione watched the snowfall. The streets were glimmering white. "But I suppose I deserved it. I was gone for some time," she whispered. When she had returned to work, Kingsley had been enraged while he had asked about her whereabouts; but she hadn't really listened to his censure, as she had been contemplating over how she hadn't ever liked her job. She had decided to work in the same field as Harry and Ron upon graduation; however, her first choice had been to work as an Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries. McGonagall had said she had the talent and skill, and she thought she would have loved it too. But, seeing how they were the Golden Trio, and inseparable, she had decided to follow whatever Ron and Harry were doing. And now, well they weren't a trio anymore, and they weren't so inseparable anymore either. Her job had suddenly begun to seem less alluring…

She sighed, and thought of azure eyes; she wished she could stop thinking about them so often. But, one often desires their destruction. "I suppose Ron told you," she finally blurted out the elephant in the room. Hermione knew this had been the reason as to why Harry had asked her if they could grab a coffee.

Her friend frowned. He sipped on his coffee. Emerald eyes sparkled sorrowfully. She knew he had been hurt the most; her and Ron were his closest friends, his strength during his most turbulent years, and now they deplored each other. It was almost as if Harry was their child. What would they do with him now?

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered sincerely.

Harry nodded for a moment while staring idly into his coffee. Then, he lifted his face and smiled warmly, having gathered himself. "You don't need to apologize, 'Mione," he said. "I should be the one apologizing—I had no idea you were in a difficult situation. I'm your friend. I should have known something was wrong."

He was always such a sweetheart; Hermione placed her hand on his. "I didn't want to tell anyone. It's not your fault," she consoled.

He nodded and sighed. His sigh had been too heavy for his age. They were only in their twenties, but they had grown so much, and too quickly. They had to. She watched him as he gazed at the fresh snow. "So, how long?" he whispered.

She lifted a brow. "How long what?"

"How long until… the baby is born?" he asked.

"Oh," whispered Hermione, so he knew about that too. Hermione had wished Ron had only mentioned their falling out, and not the whys and hows. Did Mrs. Weasley know? And what about Ginny? Hermione felt violated. "The baby. I—I think we'll be seeing her sometime in spring."

Harry nodded. "You know—she saved my life," he whispered; Hermione knew he was referring to Narcissa. "We wouldn't have won the war without her. She's not so bad," he rambled, while reconstructing his view of her. "I want to meet her again… I mean. I know that sounds odd, but you see… " Harry trailed off, "she's probably going to be in my life more often… since I'm the uncle. So, it would be good to break the ice." He paused (while Hermione thought of how he could accomplish breaking the ice when she was still unsure if she had… and she was the mother of the child). "Or at least, I hope I am the unc—" He began, mistaking her contemplation for reproach.

"Of course you are Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. Exclaiming had been exhausting, but she had to seem enthused, lest he receive the wrong message. "What sort of question is that?"

Harry nodded again. They sat very still in the awkwardness.

"Does Ginny know… and Ron's parents?" she then asked.

He nodded again. "Yeah. You know how Ron is… can't keep his mouth shut."

"Mhmm," she whispered, while nodding, and thinking of how they were nodding too much. Why did people nod more than necessary when they felt uncomfortable? To fill the silence, she supposed. And why was she thinking about the oddest things? Maybe, she felt bored? Hermione hoped they could move through the dreary conversation more swiftly, and just get it out of the way. She sighed.

"I'm sorry," said Harry; he had thought she had sighed because she was despondent over her estrangement from Ron. Hermione frowned; how little did he know about how careless and cold she could be at times. She wished he would stop putting her on a pedestal; the conversation would be easier that way. He was far too nice. "But, you know… The Weasleys still love you," said Harry. "It's just Ron who has gone a little bonkers. He's being a git."

I've gone bonkers too…

Hermione wondered if Narcissa had ever been kissed like that, then smiled. "That's good to hear," she murmured, while wondering if they would still love her if they were to unearth her love for Narcissa.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Hermione and Ron, two beautiful witches entered the cafe: a brunette and a blonde. They had decided to eat before their shopping spree; well, truth be told, the brunette had made the decision. The blonde looked disinterested. They decided to sit in a corner in the back, where they could have a view of their surroundings, while not being viewed themselves. One couldn't blame them for their need to hide, as they were often objects of attention.

"You must eat. You're eating for two now," chided Andromeda, while shaking her head. Narcissa was holding the menu, but she was not looking at it. Instead, she was looking somewhere else, somewhere distant and faraway, but it appeared as if she were gazing at the empty table behind Andromeda. With an elbow placed on the table, the usually well postured witch had her chin supported by her hand.

Andromeda sighed. It was pretty clear that Narcissa was lovestruck. She was reminded of their adolescent years in Hogwarts. Her sister was often rendered into a mute mule when in the first throes of love. A waitress came, interrupting her stream of thought. "What will you be having?" the girl asked. She looked a little intimidated; Andromeda supposed her resemblance to Bellatrix, and Narcissa being … well Narcissa often had that sort of influence on others. She picked the crepe for her sister, knowing it was her favourite. "I'll have the scrambled eggs," she said. The girl nodded, quickly scuttling away.

When she returned her attention to Narcissa, she noticed the menu had fallen from her grasp, and her pale eyes had widened. Her head was not supported by her hand anymore. She was no longer quietly contemplative; she was breathing more rapidly than usual. "Narcissa?" she asked. Andromeda, confused and worried, turned her gaze to where Narcissa's was planted, and there she found her friend, Hermione sitting with Harry.

I see.

Andromeda smirked.

Love could be so frightening; she recalled when she had fallen in love with Ted, and how terrified she had been. He had been a muggleborn, and she had been a pureblood from one of the most notorious and bigoted families in Wizarding England. Two worlds that should have never collided. For the longest time, she would not admit she was in love with him to herself. At first, she thought she had hated him (the line between love and hate is often thin, after all). From rival houses, they would prank each other in their shared classes. She recalled how he had once put a frog in her cauldron; she had retaliated by casting the Jelly Bean Jinx on him whilst he was doing his O.W.L; he had failed it, of course. She had been quite glad. Andromeda chuckled. Oh, she had been terrible once. It was hard to believe now how terrible she had been. Then, after he had failed his O.W.L, he had come to her, enraged and furious and she had found herself falling…

And then, they had kissed.

Love could be so senseless and irrational. It often was. Why couldn't Narcissa understand that? wondered Andromeda.

"Narcissa?" she whispered. She noticed her sister's hand on the table, and placed her hand upon it. At the touch, her sister's gaze slowly travelled towards her. Andromeda had finally pulled her out of her mind. "You're looking at her," she said.

Narcissa blushed. Her gaze flickered away to her plate.

"You love Hermione," she stated bluntly.

The rosy tint on her sister's ivory skin deepened. Narcissa swiftly flashed her silver eyes at her. She hadn't expected such brusqueness from Andromeda. "You're being ridiculous," she reprimanded.

Andromeda smirked. "Then, why are you blushing like a schoolgirl?"

Narcissa scowled.

Then, their food came at the most inopportune time; Narcissa was grateful for the interruption, while Andromeda was irritated by it. "Thank you," said Andromeda hastily to the girl. The waitress nodded, smiling. She stood there for a bit too long. Andromeda mentally groaned. She returned a smile. It had been too wide. "Yes. Well. Would you mind… going now?' she asked; it was impolite of her, but she had been impolite for most of her life. It was only with Ted that she had learned to check her arrogance.

The girl scurried away. Poor thing.

Narcissa chuckled and shook her head. "So cruel."

Andromeda shrugged. "Old habits…" Then, she returned to the pressing matter of Narcissa's languishing heart. "What are you going to do about it?' she asked.

Narcissa sliced her crepe, and put the portion into her mouth. Meanwhile, Andromeda knew she was being tactical. Conniving Slytherin. Her sister was stalling, hoping she wouldn't have to respond if she filled her mouth. She took a long time to chew. When she was done, she was about to make another slice, but Andromeda incanted a charm wordlessly with her wand, and the cutlery suddenly flew out of Narcissa's hand, and fell with a clang onto her own plate.

"There are two Slytherins here," said Andromeda.

Narcissa furrowed her brows, and grimaced.

"You love her, Cissy," she then whispered softly.

Her sister sighed involuntarily, and stole a glimpse of Hermione; she hung a lock of her silvery blonde hair behind her ear. "I don't know, 'Meda," she murmured. Her eyes were downturned, revealing her bewilderment. "How would I know?"

Andromeda handed Narcissa her fork and knife. Her sister still bore dark circles under her eyes. "Have you been sleeping well, Cissy?" she asked.

Narcissa shrugged while cutting her crepe again. "I usually don't," she said wearily before chewing.

Andromeda frowned. "How often do you think of her?" she inquired.

Narcissa was still chewing; she blushed.

Andromeda smirked. "Have you thought of her… sensually?"

Her sister's face turned tremendously red. She held a fist to her chest, as she had started to cough on her food.

"I see," said Andromeda.

When Narcissa had regained her composure, she knitted her brows. "What do you mean, 'I see'?" she said, peeved. "I haven't said anything."

Andromeda smirked, and Narcissa wished she could wipe the smirk off her bloody face. "You didn't have to, Cissy," she explained.

Defeated, Narcissa's shoulders slackened. "Is it so obvious, 'Meda?" she whispered sadly, while looking like she was sinking into her chair.

She watched her sister nod slowly. "Yes, Cissy."

Silence transpired for a moment.

"Look at how I'm sitting," said Narcissa, shattering the unnerving quiet with absurdity. If their mother had been here, Narcissa would have been scolded for her posture. They both eyed each other, and thought of what their mother would have said. Andromeda suddenly chuckled; she decided to impersonate Druella. She lifted her chin and one brow; then, she spoke in a French accent, "Back straight, you stupide girl!"

Narcissa laughed heartily. Andromeda joined in. "Mon dieu… Maman could be terribly annoying," she replied in French while smiling.

Andromeda chuckled. "Oui. Très," she agreed; delighted from the rare smile on her little sister's face, she too smiled. It had been so long since they had spoken to each other in their mother's tongue. It felt very much like old times.

"Bella would have hushed us for our 'insolence'," whispered Narcissa. "'Insolence'... she adored that word..." Her voice trailed off. They both turned pensive. Bellatrix. The missing piece. She was gone, but she had been absent for quite a long time. Their mourning for her had not started with her death. The mood turned dark again. They realized that old times were… old times. One could never reclaim them.

"So much has changed," murmured Narcissa, frowning. "I never imagined we would be where we are now during my years in Hogwarts…" The witch then wistfully gazed at Hermione again. "I thought I would be with Lucius until either I died or he died… never did I imagine that my own child would die befo—"

"Shh, Narcissa," whispered Andromeda. "Our children died with pride and dignity. They died for a cause they believed in. We should be proud of them." She couldn't believe in her words herself; dying for a cause wasn't something Andromeda could understand. Staying alive was always the better alternative.

Narcissa shook her head while sighing. "I don't know, 'Meda. I would still rather have them alive. "

"I know, Cissy." The crepe on her sister's plate was getting cold.

"I tried to die in the Great Hall…after he… " whispered Narcissa, as she thought of the dream she had had earlier today. "I was holding my wand to my chest, about to cast the Killing Curse…"

Andromeda frowned, but did not find herself alarmed by the revelation.

"She stopped me from dying," Narcissa said softly.

"Who?"

Her sister looked at Hermione. "She removed my wand from my hold." She bit on her lips, and her eyes began to glimmer. "I wish she hadn't… I would have been better off dead—"

Andromeda's grimace grew, as she had been made to think of her sister in a casket. "Don't say that, Cissy," she replied. "I love you, and I don't want to imagine you dead."

Narcissa exhaled. "But, it's how I feel, 'Meda. It's the truth."

Andromeda shook her head. "Cissy. You now have a reason to live, and you must find the courage to." She paused. "You came to me that night and wept in my arms, afraid that your unborn daughter was dying. You desperately wanted her to live."

Narcissa recalled the horrid day and almost shivered from the memory. Her hand fell inadvertently against her abdomen, and her fingers protectively sprawled across the bump, as if to reassure herself that her child was still there, still alive, still well…

"Your daughter would want you alive, Cissy," continued Andromeda. "And there are others here as well who love you, who wouldn't be able to bear it if you died… Me, for instance. And Hermione."

At the utterance of Hermione's name, Narcissa's heart began to beat rapidly. She then felt the fluttering in her womb again. It was almost as though her daughter was asking her if she was well. She wondered if her little girl could sense her heavy heartbeat; yesterday night, she had felt her when she had been panicking.

Narcissa then nodded slowly and sighed, while gently rubbing her thumb against her abdomen to soothe the fluttering. I'm fine, she mentally whispered to her child. Really, I am. But, she knew she was lying. So, she promised: I will try to be fine for you, love.

The fluttering stopped, as if her daughter had been eased by her promise.

Andromeda had watched her sister silently and knowingly.

"Cissy. Was she moving?... " she asked when Narcissa had removed her hand from her belly, and had returned to eating her food, realizing that she had to eat for someone else.

Narcissa nodded, and revealed one of her rare smiles again. Her eyes had turned blue. And then, when she thought Andromeda was eating her food, she gazed at Hermione, and recalled the vision she had seen of her little girl running in her manor's garden with hair platinum like hers and untamed like Hermione's.

Ah, motherhood, thought Andromeda, as she secretly watched her little sister gaze dreamily at Hermione. She sipped on her coffee and smirked behind the mug. It forces you to love.

The door to the cafe sprung open and aurors dressed in red robes rushed in, grabbing their attention. Narcissa wondered if they had come for her; she had become used to receiving their uninvited visitations during her life with Lucius. For her, they were always a sore sight. Andromeda noticed the fright in her sister's expanded eyes, so she wrapped her hand around her wrist. "They're not here for you, Cissy," she whispered.

Of course, they weren't. She hadn't done anything. For a second, she relaxed until she realized they were walking towards Hermione. Perhaps, they had to discuss something with her, she thought, remembering how the witch was working in the Department of Defence.

But, if that was the case, why were they holding handcuffs?

Then, she heard words that made her head spin:

"You're under arrest," said an Auror to Hermione.

Without thought, she pulled Andromeda's hand away from her wrist. Senseless and overcome with adrenaline, Narcissa stood up, while clenching her wand so firmly in her hand that her knuckles had turned white.

Suddenly, a hand curled around her wrist, and grasped it hard. She was tugged backwards, and was forced to sit down again.

"Cissy. Don't be brash," she heard a voice hiss. "Do you wish to be taken by them too?"

"Do refrain from being a brash Gryffindor," she had told Hermione when she had foolishly been about to jinx a man who had cursed at her on the street; had their feelings towards one another started then?... When had it began? wondered Narcissa. Perhaps, it had been on the very first day in that cobbled alleyway, when she had been running after her?... She recalled being pulled to her chest, recalled her frantic gaze peering into her eyes for too long, touching her very core…

"Cissy?" said Andromeda angrily. "Are you listening to me?"

Narcissa realized she was looking at Andromeda. She wanted to get up again and was about to when: "Immobulus," she heard a whisper. She tried to rise once more, but couldn't move. Confused for a moment, as her mind was in a haze, she wondered why, and then realized something was jabbing into her leg. Her sister was holding her wand at her under the table.

When the Aurors had left, she felt the spell thaw away and could move her limbs again. Her heart was beating furiously. Narcissa felt butterflies in her womb once more. Slowly, she placed a trembling hand against her abdomen, while wondering if Hermione would be all right.

If they would be all right

Andromeda whispered, "Shall we go to my place? Stay with me tonight?" She stood up and grabbed Narcissa's hand. "Come," she said while pulling her up.

Then, when night came, Andromeda heard a knock upon her door. "Come in, Cissy," she whispered.

Her little sister walked in wearing her pyjamas. She was reminded of nights long ago. Andromeda pulled her blanket down and let her sister join her in her bed. Then, she drew the blanket over her, and brought her near her chest, tucking her blonde head under her chin. She wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I cannot sleep, 'Meda," murmured Narcissa. She sighed wearily. "And she won't either... I feel her moving incessantly."

Andromeda gently stroked her sister's belly. "Sleep little one," she whispered.

They stayed quiet for a very long time, and listened to the gelid, moaning wind outside. She thought Narcissa had slept, but then:

"'Meda?" she heard her murmur.

"Yes, Cissy?" she whispered back.

"I am sorry for earlier today. I did not mean what I said, 'Meda… about wishing we hadn't reconciled."

"I know, Cissy," said Andromeda. She held her sister more snugly.

A few moments passed by. She had thought Narcissa was asleep once more, but then she heard her whisper: "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered.

"... I think she loves you as well," murmured Narcissa. "She has quieted down."

Andromeda smiled. "I love you too, little one," she said tiredly, while gently stroking her sister's belly again.

"'Meda?" said Narcissa.

"Hmm…" Merlin. Sleep, Cissy.

"Am I irritating you?"

"A little bit…"

Narcissa sighed. "... May I say one more thing?'

"Go ahead."

"I believe…" she paused, hesitant. "I think…"

"You think what?..." she said, already knowing what Narcissa was going to say.

"I - I think I love Hermione," whispered Narcissa. She then sighed. "It's terrible… being in love."

"I know, Cissy." She yawned.

Narcissa echoed back a soft yawn. "Of course, you do..."

"Sleep now, Cissy."

A pause.

"... Will Hermione be all right?" she whispered.

"We'll do everything we can…"

"Promets moi?"

She kissed her head. "Oui, je promets... ma petit soeur," she murmured. "Sleep now."

"Bonne nuit..."

Andromeda shortly found her sleeping; her chest was rising and falling smoothly. Terribly tired from today's ordeal, she had fallen fast asleep in her older sister's arms.

They were not the same people anymore. Everything had changed, but the love they had for each other had remained and endured. Little sisters… they could be little shits sometimes, but they were still wonderful to have around. She had missed her so. Andromeda held her more tightly, while recalling her as a pink little thing in a cot. She sighed softly into her blonde hair, hoping all her wishes would come true.

Author's Note

I thought it was time for some sisterly love. Thank you Andromeda for drilling some sense into Narcissa's head.

Thoughts?

As always, THANK YOU for your reviews! They are really encouraging, and they give me the energy to continue. Having written something feels wonderful, but writing something is horrible! So, your reviews and feedback mean a lot, as they give me the energy to persist.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter.