Chapter 8- Acanthus ~ Resentment Waltzing in the Corners of My Mind
July 1998
Eva Tonks swirled her paintbrush through a glob of verdant green oil paint on her palette and touched it to her canvas, lightly outlining the leaves that hugged the bottom edge of the piece. Placing her brush and palette down on the wooden floor of her tiny attic studio, she rose from her chair and took a step back to admire her work.
Her heart sank as she looked at the painting. It was of Dora and Remus, based on a photograph of them dancing taken on their wedding day. Her niece looked so joyful and full of life; the vibrant strokes of pink that Eva had used for her niece's hair practically glowed in the fluorescent light that illuminated the studio, and she could have sworn that the smile on her face was actually moving. Her white dress and bouquet of sunflowers and yellow tulips perfectly complemented the starchy brown robe-like outfit that Remus was wearing. Eva had done her best to capture her nephew-in-law's soft smile as he looked at his bride.
As per usual, Eva had taken some creative liberties with the piece, most notably the setting. The original photograph had been taken in Mum's church in Colchester, but Eva didn't think that the austere and suffocating atmosphere of the church fit her niece at all. And Eva despised churches. So instead, Eva moved her them into a lush summer garden, filling the space with symbolic plants like roses, tulips, carnations, lupines, and acanthus flowers. In her opinion, the end result was a massive improvement over a stuffy church of a religion that hated everyone that wasn't a heterosexual white male.
The painting was gorgeous- probably one of her better pieces in recent memory- but Eva couldn't take credit for the idea. Ted had commissioned it shortly before he'd run off, intending it to be a gift for Dora's twenty-fifth birthday.
"It might be the last thing I can give her," he'd said. "I want it to be meaningful."
Eva had naturally told her brother that everything was going to be fine, that he'd be back in a year. She'd joked that they'd even laugh as he retold the tales of his daring adventure to their family members. However, she agreed to take the commission anyway.
But mere months later, both the commissioner of the painting and its intended recipient were dead.
Eva had continued working on it regardless; she hated not finishing things, and painting it allowed her to ignore the fact that her brother and niece were gone. But now the painting was all but done, which meant that she was going to have to confront her grief, and soon. This painting, which had been commissioned and painted with so much love, was going to have to find a home, preferably one where Eva didn't have to see it frequently.
She didn't know what she was supposed to do with the painting. Eva couldn't very well give it to Ted or Dora, and it was too painful for her to keep for herself. Selling it wasn't an option either; it would be so disrespectful of her little brother's final request of her.
Eva's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to the studio opening.
"Pippa?" Eva remarked softly.
Pippa was wearing a chic ebony blouse and matching black slacks with stippled white pinstripes. Her honey-colored hair was immaculately styled in curled ringlets that sat on her shoulders, reminiscent of the swirls of paint that were left on Eva's palette after she dragged her brush through them. Her round, doll-like face was perfectly made up, with Pippa's frosty blue eyeshadow and satin burgundy lipstick enhancing- in Eva's biased opinion- her already stunning features.
"I thought you might be up here," Pippa said, fingering a silver chain bracelet on her left wrist. "Our dinner reservation at that new Italian place in Shoreditch is in an hour. I haven't seen you down in the flat since lunch, so I thought you might have lost track of time."
Eva blushed. "Sorry," she murmured. "You're completely right. I didn't realize it was already six. I've been focused on finishing this."
Pippa peered around her to look at the painting, her expression faltering when she saw it. "Oh, Eva," she muttered, moving to stand next to her. She wrapped her arm around Eva's waist. "It's beautiful."
Eva felt the sting of tears tug at the corners of her eyes. "What am I supposed to do with it, Pippa?" she asked shakily, leaning against Pippa. "Once I varnish and frame it, where does it go? Who gets it?"
Pippa didn't answer. She simply moved her hand to Eva's shoulder and shook her head.
At five in the morning the following day, Eva quietly stole out of bed. Careful not to wake Pippa, she gathered her things and went to the local indoor pool.
Eva had always loved swimming. There was something about being submerged in water that calmed her, and unlike most people, she found the acrid scent of chlorine and the taste of chemicals on her lips to be soothing. Throughout secondary school, she'd been a competitive swimmer, but once she started university, she realized that she wasn't good enough to be a professional. Still, she'd set some records in various freestyle races in her first year there, so she supposed that she wasn't wholly untalented. Ted had always assured her that she could become an Olympic athlete if she put her mind to it, but by the end of university, Eva was far too busy trying to start her career as a not-so-starving artist to be wasting time in the pool.
Nowadays, Eva used swimming as a way to relax and clear her head. Pippa always said that she could tell how stressed Eva was by how often she went to the pool. Eva had to admit that it was true; during the past year, she'd gone to the pool more times in one month than in the entire previous decade.
As was normal for an early Tuesday morning, the pool at the local gymnasium was completely empty. After quickly changing into a swimsuit and taking a deep breath of the chemical-laced air, Eva jumped into the still water of the deep end and positioned herself against the tile wall. Kicking off, she began her freestyle laps, letting her mind wander as her body shivered in the frigid temperature of the pool.
Five laps in, she found her thoughts consumed by the painting of Dora. Sleeping on the question of what to do with it hadn't magically given her any ideas. Just thinking about the painting was almost too painful, causing Eva to feel like thousands of tiny knives were piercing her heart. She wished her brother were still here. He'd be able to cheer her up or reassure her in an instant.
Although she was less than a year older than him, Eva had always thought of Ted as her baby brother. That didn't change when Millie was born a decade later. But Ted or Millie or Dora dying before her- or even Remus and Andromeda too- seemed so wrong. She was older than all of them, she was supposed to die first! Not to mention, Ted, Andromeda, Dora, and Remus had magic, which apparently meant that they were likely to live well beyond a century.
Ten laps in, she didn't know if the continuous burning sensation in her eyes was from chlorine or her tears. Her body had finally acclimated to the temperature of the water, but her soul remained ice cold.
Eva supposed that she could give the painting to her parents or little sister, but she knew that they would put it somewhere where they didn't have to look at it. Mum and Dad would hang it in either Eva's or Ted's childhood bedrooms and Millie would stick it in one of the barely used rooms in the large manor she resided in. The end result would be the same: the beautiful art of their family would never see the light of day again.
Twenty laps in, Eva thought about her nephew-in-law's family. If any Lupins were still around, she would have offered the painting to them. According to Andromeda though, all of Remus' family had all been dead for over fifteen years. Eva felt horrible for baby Teddy; while plenty of his mother's family were still around- and they would always be around for him- he had no one in his father's family left.
Andromeda would probably take the painting if Eva asked her to, but she was concerned that making such a request to her sister-in-law would cause her emotions to completely spiral out of control. After Ted died, she'd spent nearly two weeks bedridden from grief; Eva suspected that the only reason Andromeda hadn't done so again when Dora passed on was because she knew that she had to be there to take care of Teddy.
No, bringing Andromeda a picture of her dead daughter commissioned by her dead husband was not an option, not when she was still so crippled with heartache.
After thirty laps, Eva heard the sound of voices echoing around her, and, not wanting to get in the way of other people's workouts, she left the sparsely populated gymnasium, no closer to making any decisions about the painting.
Pippa had long left for work by the time Eva returned to their flat. After changing and eating breakfast, Eva sat down at the kitchen table to sketch some acanthus leaves, only for the telephone to begin ringing as soon as she set her pencil to the thick, cream paper of her sketch pad. Groaning, Eva walked over to where the phone hung on the wall.
"Hello?" she answered, not even bothering to hide her irritation.
"Hey, Eva!" her little sister happily greeted on the other end. "How's it going?"
"Fine," she replied, tapping her foot nervously on the floor. She assumed that her sister must have had a reason for contacting her. She hardly ever called simply to chat. "What's up, Millie?"
"Well, I was calling to ask if you could recommend a good electrician, but I can tell from your lovely snappy tone that something's bothering you. What's going on, Eva?"
Eva sighed and absentmindedly stared out the kitchen window at the foggy London skyline. Millie was incredibly intuitive and phenomenal at reading people's moods from their tone of voice alone. She wasn't entirely certain if it was a sharply honed skill or some weird expression of magic. Given the fact that Ted was a wizard, magic was always a possibility.
Over the next few minutes, Eva explained her conundrum over the painting to her sister. "What's your take on this, Millie?" she asked. "Any thoughts as to what I should do with it?"
"Obviously you need to give it to Andie," Millie instantly replied. "Whatever happens to it after that- if she puts it in storage, hangs it up, or something else- is up to her."
Eva bit her lower lip and leaned against the wall. "I see," she said curtly.
"You don't agree."
"I'm worried that if I give it to her, she'll completely break again," Eva explained. "I don't want that to happen."
She could hear Millie tutting at her on the other end of the line. "Andie's stronger than you think, Eva," she said. "You need to give the painting to her."
Millie didn't seem to understand Eva's concerns, but then again, she'd always idolized their sister-in-law, believing that Andromeda could do almost everything. Eva knew better though.
"I know she's strong," Eva replied defensively, gripping the cord tightly. "I remember what happened when she married Ted, you know. How sad she was when her family abandoned her. Unlike you, I wasn't a child at the time."
"So then you get it-"
Eva cut her sister off. "Millie, apart from the funerals, you haven't really been here since Ted died," she continued, harsher than she intended. She felt somewhat bad about that; it wasn't Millie's fault that she lived so far away. "Andromeda's so, so fragile right now," she continued. "Sometimes, I think that just looking at her the wrong way will cause her to curl up under the covers and never come out. Just like she did before. So no, I don't think giving her a picture of Dora and Remus commissioned by Ted is a good idea right now."
"Well, I think you're wrong," Millie snapped. Eva heard her sister move around on the other end. "I think she'd want it."
Eva knew that they would be talking in circles ad infinitum if they continued this discussion. "I'm done having this conversation, Millie," she said, holding the cord of the phone as she paced back and forth across the monochrome linoleum floor. "Let it go."
"Eva…"
"Please."
Millie let out a long sigh. "Fine."
"Anyway, you called about a recommendation for an electrician?" Eva asked, somewhat confused. "You're a viscountess for god's sake! Doesn't your husband's family have a family of swanky electricians that you've employed for a century to cater to your every electrical need?"
"Er, well, yeah, Will's family has an electrician they like," she mumbled. "But I'm thinking of firing them."
"Why?"
"The lightbulbs in Eddie's and Owen's playroom keep bursting and getting glass everywhere. The electrician claims that he fixes it every time it happens- so about ten times now- but it won't stop! Always while the children are in there too! I'm really worried that one of them will get hurt if it happens while they're directly under the light fixture."
Eva shuddered. Eddie and Owen were the sweetest of kids, but they were quite rambunctious, as most children were. She loved her nephews to death but couldn't shake the feeling that the two of them were playing an elaborate prank on their mother.
"Are you sure that Eddie and Owen aren't messing with you, Millie?" she asked.
Eva heard Millie scoff, and she could practically hear her sister rolling her eyes. "Come off it, Eva," she replied. "Eddie's eight and Owen's six. Please enlighten me as to how they could have possibly taken control of the electricity in that wing of the manor without knowing where the electrical panel is. Not to mention, they aren't tall enough to reach the lights or the panel."
"I have no explanation," Eva said. "Maybe someone else is in on it with them. What do you think?"
She heard her sister sigh on the other end of the line. "I think the wiring in that section of the house might be faulty, which is why I want to get someone else to look at it," Millie replied. "Mrs. Crouch said that she thinks it might need to be replaced. It's apparently really old. She told me that the last time she remembers it being done was in the late '40s, after the war. And considering she's been the housekeeper for Will's family for like seven hundred years and can't recall it being worked on more recently… Well, that says a lot, don't you think?"
"Yeah…" Eva murmured, stopping abruptly in the middle of the kitchen. Something wasn't right about this whole thing, but she couldn't figure out what. A strange sense of déjà vu tugged at her memory, but she didn't understand why.
"Eva?" Millie called out. "You there?"
"Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts there for a moment," she said. "Give Eddie and Owen hugs from me?"
"Of course! I'll see you and Pippa on Sunday, right?"
Eva's stomach suddenly lurched. She'd completely forgotten that their family had planned to go visit Ted, Dora, and Remus at the cemetery this coming weekend. Like the painting, it had been too painful to think about.
"Yeah," Eva replied weakly, her throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper. "We'll be there. Are Will and the kids making the trip from Wiltshire with you?"
"No, not this time," she said. "It's more than a three-hour-long drive there and back, so we'd get home super late. And since the kids are going Will's parents for the week on Monday… It's just too much for them."
"I get that," Eva replied sympathetically. "Anyway, I'll let you go. I'm sure you have some very important viscountess stuff to do."
Millie groaned. "You don't know the half of it," she grumbled. "The amount of charity work and parties I have to attend is bonkers. I totally get why Andie left all of that behind."
"Me too."
"Don't lie, Eva. You've never been to a single high society party. And no, my wedding doesn't count."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Love you, Millie."
"Love you too, Eva. Goodbye."
"Bye."
Eva hung up the phone, all concerns about the ultimate fate of her painting forgotten.
Instead, she was filled with a profound level of despair, more abyssal and blacker than her darkest oil paints.
Almost immediately after her brother told her about his new girlfriend, Eva could tell that even amongst witches and wizards, Andromeda Black was somewhat unusual.
"Hey, can I ask for a favor, Eva?" Ted asked her the week after her eighteenth birthday. She'd been in her room at her desk, making a checklist of things she needed to do before leaving for university in the fall. It might have still been the dog days of summer, but Eva knew that time would fly quickly.
"What's up, Ted?" she replied, turning in her chair to face him. Ted walked over to her, a nervous and panicked look in his blue-gray eyes- the same eyes Eva shared with him.
"Okay, so do you remember how I said that I have a new girlfriend?" he started, running his hand through his hair.
"Vividly," she replied cooly. "And I'm glad for you. But please tell me that this new girl is better than the last one you dated."
Ted grimaced as he wringed his hands. "I certainly think so," he said.
"Do you two actually have stuff in common this time around? Or is this another girl you're just looking to snog?"
"Eva, please," Ted sighed, hanging his head. "I don't want to talk about my last relationship, okay?"
Eva dropped her pen onto the notebook she had been writing in. "Fine," she agreed. "What's this favor you need?"
Ted's face lit up. "I want to take my girlfriend out on a date tomorrow," he grinned stupidly. Eva thought he looked vaguely like the Cheshire Cat, but kept that opinion to herself. "I was thinking of going to the diner a few miles away. But Andromeda doesn't have any appropriate clothes, so I was wondering if she could borrow an old outfit of yours for the day."
"'Andromeda?' That's a fancy name," Eva mused, tugging at her golden hair. "Wait, isn't that the same person that you study with?"
Ted nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "And I think that everything about her is fancy, but I doubt she'd agree."
"I can give you some clothes for her, I guess, but why doesn't she have anything appropriate?"
"…Because she's a witch?"
"So? Gideon and your other friends have normal people clothes that they wear when they're here. Why doesn't Andromeda have any?"
"Because she doesn't, Eva."
"That's not an answer. I find this whole situation weird, Ted. What aren't you telling me?"
Ted let out an exasperated sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not playing twenty questions with you about my girlfriend," he said. "Either help me or don't."
"Is Andromeda an animal, a vegetable, a mineral, or something else?" Eva teased.
"Eva…"
"Is she bigger than a breadbox?"
"Eva!"
"Fine, fine," she chuckled, stretching as she rose from her chair. "You're too easy, Ted. Anyway, what kind of outfit do you think your girlfriend would like?"
Her brother shrugged. "No clue," he said. "Probably something a bit modest, since she's used to wearing robes and our school clothes."
"Is she bigger or smaller than me?"
"Smaller, but that doesn't really matter. We can use magic to temporarily alter your clothes so they fit her."
Eva went over to her closet, aware that Ted was standing right behind her. She picked through her clothes for something modest and somewhat small, ultimately selecting a white blouse and blue skirt that her mother had gotten her for Christmas a few years ago. Eva hadn't ever worn the skirt, as it didn't fit her properly.
She held the outfit up for Ted. "How's this?" she asked.
"Perfect," Ted beamed.
Eva walked across the hallway to Ted's room, where she took the clothes off their hangers before messily folding them up.
"You can just leave them on the bed," Ted said from the doorway. Eva nodded and complied.
As she turned to leave, she caught sight of a torn piece of paper on her brother's desk with what appeared to be an itinerary for the following day.
8:00 AM- Wake up and shower.
8:30 AM- Eat breakfast.
9:00 AM- Get dressed. Maybe watch some television.
10:00 AM- Start getting everything ready. Make sure you clean the car!
11:00 AM- Meet Andromeda and bring her back here to change before going to the restaurant.
Eva was somewhat surprised that Ted had gone through all the trouble to write all this down; he hadn't made nearly as much of an effort with his last girlfriend. It was obvious that he wanted everything to be perfect for her, and he was visibly more nervous than Eva had seen him in a long time.
He must really like this girl, she thought to herself. I hope she's worth it.
Teddy and I had been invited to Malfoy Manor for tea, and so far, our visit had been insufferable.
Malfoy Manor had remained practically unchanged over the past twenty-five or so years. I found the lack of differences both comforting and eerie; I welcomed the home's familiarity, but seeing that it was essentially a time capsule caused the hair on the back of my neck to stick up. Its atmosphere of gravitas and fine furniture were relics of a time long past, a barbaric period of history that at least two of its residents were desperately clinging to.
We were sitting in the main parlor with Lucius and Narcissa, and Draco joined us briefly before leaving to visit "a store in the Green Glasshouse." I highly suspected that my nephew was not, in fact, visiting the prestigious Green Glasshouse art gallery in Diagon Alley, but that he was going to see Astoria Greengrass. Subtlety, it seemed, was really not his strong suit.
Tea with my sister and Lucius was awkward and stilted. My tea and scones sat largely untouched on the teakwood table in front of me, as I was holding my grandson in my arms. Teddy had figured out how to hold his head up, which meant that I could finally hold him while doing other things. Unfortunately, it also meant that when something made a sound, he could turn his head to see what it was. Every time a house-elf came to refill our tea or bring us scones or sandwiches, Teddy would look at them. He would immediately start crying, only stopping when they vanished. He was obviously scared of the creatures.
It had been silent for the past twenty minutes, with none of us knowing what to say. Lucius and Narcissa hardly had anything in common with me anymore. I wanted to go home; Japanese Muggles had recently launched a new interplanetary probe into space, and I was really looking forward to reading about it in a magazine I'd picked up at Graham's Grocery. Naturally, I couldn't bring up such a horribly Muggle thing to my sister and her husband in conversation without them crinkling their noses at me in disapproval.
"So," I finally said, breaking the silence. "Do you have any more information on when you're supposed to serve your Azkaban sentence?"
Lucius, who sat in a puffy green armchair to my right, grimaced at me. "A couple months from now," he replied. "I am trying to get my affairs in order before then."
I nodded, and it became quiet again.
Across from me, Narcissa took a sip of her tea. "The Daily Prophet has reported that the Minister plans to make some potential changes to Azkaban and the Wizengamot," she remarked. "I hope whatever he intends to do to the Wizengamot isn't anything too drastic."
"You know it will be, Cissy," Lucius murmured, closing his eyes. "Dumbledore advocated for significant change, and Shacklebolt was in that little rebel group of his. I'm sure he shares the old coot's opinions on governance."
I shifted Teddy in my arms, as I thought about how to respond. Whatever changes Kingsley planned to make probably wouldn't sit well with my sister and her husband.
I decided to tell them a bit of what I knew as a gesture of good faith. "I don't know anything about Azkaban, but I have an idea of what might be happening with the Wizengamot," I divulged. "I was visited a while ago by Elias Greene. Remember him, Lucius?"
"Yes, he was one of our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, wasn't he?" Lucius said as he stroked his chin. "I seem to recall that while he was an extremely capable instructor, I didn't much care for him."
"Kingsley has invited him back to help the Auror Office, and apparently he's teaching at Hogwarts again," I continued, ignoring Lucius' insult. "But Professor Greene told me that there have been issues with filling Wizengamot seats."
"We're painfully aware of that, Andie," Narcissa said, rolling her eyes. She took a small mirror out of her pocket and began fixing her eyeliner. "The lack of seated members was a large reason as to why Lucius and I got such harsh sentences."
I ignored her narrow-minded remark. "Anyway, it wouldn't surprise me if the Minister is looking to reform the laws so that the remainder of the vacant seats can be filled without direct appointment."
"Which will undoubtedly result in even less representation for pureblood interests than we had before the war, which was already very minimal," Lucius grumbled.
I had no sympathy for my brother-in-law's viewpoint on this matter. "Yes, because pureblood interests are very popular right now and didn't just result in swathes of innocent people being killed," I snapped. Draco had sadly been correct in the observations he'd relayed to me some weeks ago; his parents had learned nothing.
Lucius and I glared at each other for a long moment. Teddy then let out a small cry for attention before turning his hair and eyes a vivid forest green. I forced a smile on my face before looking at him.
"Hi, Teddy!" I exclaimed. "You look great! Very Slytherin coloring you have right now! We'll go home in a little bit, okay?" He cooed in response and snuggled against my chest.
"Anyway," Narcissa cut in as she tapped her spoon against her teacup. "Hyacinth Parkinson is having her annual charity gala next month. Are you attending? I don't think anyone would object to you coming. In fact, it might do a lot of good if you did. It would show that we're all willing to compromise for a better future."
I could feel anger rising within me. That party would be filled with the wives of Death Eaters and other purebloods who supported their ideals. I doubted any of them actually had any intention of learning why those beliefs were wrong, and even if they did, I very much doubted that they cared to change their opinions. Why should I have to compromise with any of them when they were a part of the reason I'd lost so much?
"I wasn't invited, and I have no one to watch Teddy," I said, completely aware that my words were dripping with acerbity. "And I don't like parties. I especially don't like parties where I have to pretend that I'm okay with intolerant and prejudiced people that I have nothing in common with."
My sister exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes at me. "You could just go to have some fun, Andromeda. It doesn't have to be that deep."
I had no interest in taking a turn about the dance floor with some ignorant pureblood while feelings of resentment waltzed around the corners of my mind. "Considering that my family is dead, yes, Narcissa, it is that deep," I replied.
Lucius leaned forward. "I know that you're still in your period of mourning and some might not agree with you attending until after it's finished, but I agree with your sister," he said. "It is my opinion that-"
Whatever nonsense Lucius' opinion was, I wasn't interested in hearing it. I was done with this conversation, as well as this visit.
"I'm not some battered widow that you can parade around at your parties for your own gain," I snapped, shifting Teddy as I rose from our chair. "I haven't seen Hyacinth in years. I don't know her anymore. I don't know any of our former social circle anymore. And I will not be used as a prop for you lot to invite places to convince yourselves that you've 'changed your ways' when you absolutely haven't!"
Narcissa paled, her complexion appearing almost sickly against the deep green wallpaper. "I didn't mean it like that, Andie," she whispered, clutching herself. Tears were welling in her eyes. "I just thought it would be a good chance to reconnect. A simple night of fun for everyone involved. I brought up the idea of it being a compromise so you'd know that no one would think of you any differently for attending."
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I'm trying to change, Andromeda, I really am. But I'm going to mess up along the way. Please forgive me."
I sighed. It was true; she was trying, but her ideas of how I should be spending my time clearly didn't match mine, and I wasn't sure how much grace I was supposed to give her for that. It felt very much like I was supposed to put more effort into fixing our relationship than she was, and I didn't really want to.
"In any case," Lucius cut in with a small smile. "If you need someone to watch your grandson so you can attend Hyacinth's party, you are more than welcome to call Jassy for assistance."
Clearly thinking that she was being called, Jassy appeared in front of us with a crack and Teddy turned his head toward the loud sound, immediately reverting to his natural appearance. "Master Lucius!" the house-elf exclaimed brightly over my grandson's panicked cries. I could tell from his tone that Teddy wouldn't stop any time soon. "Does Master want more tea or sandwiches?"
"No, Jassy," he replied, shifting in his chair. "We're just discussing you watching Andromeda's grandson in the future. If she so wishes, of course."
"Obviously not," I snapped, running my hand up and down Teddy's small back to try and soothe him. "Can't you see that he's terrified of her? He's practically inconsolable."
"Well of course he is," Narcissa said, taking a sip of her tea as she rolled her eyes again. "He hasn't been around them much. Having him spend some time with Jassy might be good for him. He can't avoid house-elves forever, Andie."
I wasn't about to take parenting advice from someone who had barely raised her own child, much less put Teddy in a situation where he would be scared for hours on end. The world would not end if Teddy wasn't around house-elves in his first sixth months of life.
I was done with this.
Filled with rage, I stood up, taking my bag from the floor with my free hand. "Seeing as how Teddy's going to be crying for the next few hours, I think it's time we left," I said, shifting Teddy so he wouldn't fall. He began to cry harder. "When you two finally decide that our feelings matter, let me know."
Teddy- still shrieking in my ear- and I stormed out of the room, and my sister's shoes clicked on the wooden floor as she followed us to the room with the Floo.
"Andie, wait!" she called out. "Please don't leave!"
I ignored her and took a pinch of powder from the pewter container on the mantel.
"Please, before you go, we need to talk about Bella," she added breathily, her light hair slightly disheveled. "Her remains were returned to me and I-"
The last thing that I wanted to deal with at the same time as a crying infant was my homicidal sister. "Not now, Cissy!" I huffed, tossing the powder into the fire and stepping into the fireplace. "Let us go in peace!"
Before she could respond, Teddy and I were engulfed by the green flames and were gone.
"Thank you for coming," I said to Eva as she entered the house. It was the following day, and we had decided to finally look through Ted's, Nymphadora's, and Remus' wills. Harry had agreed to entertain Teddy while we read them, and he was currently sitting on a blanket in the living room with my grandson. Teddy had seemingly forgotten the terrifying house-elf from yesterday and was putting various wooden block toys in his mouth.
"It's no trouble," Eva replied, waving to Harry and Teddy as we made our way to the kitchen. "It's the least I can do. Millie obviously can't make it and Mum and Dad… well, it's all a bit much for them, understandably so."
"Believe me, I get it," I sighed. "But there's really no need to make a fuss about the wills. I already know what they're going to say. I helped write them, after all."
"That's how Mum justified not coming- you already know what's in them and would have insisted she and Dad be here if it really mattered."
As we sat down at the kitchen table- which was clear of everything except for two sealed pieces of parchment- I heard two people stumble out of the fireplace and greet Harry and Teddy.
"Andie!" Laura enthusiastically greeted as she came into the kitchen. "It's good to see you. Sorry I haven't been around much. I've been busy on the continent doing Order things."
"What she means to say is that she's been causing trouble for the international magical community at large," said another voice coming from further down the corridor.
"I haven't been causing any trouble! I never do!" Laura protested as she stepped aside, letting Alex Devon, another old friend of ours, enter the kitchen. He wasn't much taller than me, and his dark hair was streaked with gray. His eyes were sad as they darted between Eva and me, and before I knew it, he had engulfed me in a hug.
"I'm so sorry, Andromeda," he whispered. "If I'd known that going to that medical conference prior to the battle would mean I was stuck in Italy for months, I never would have gone to begin with."
"It's okay," I said shakily, stepping away and leaning against one of the counters. "You had no way to know. You're not the only one who got stuck abroad, you know. Kingsley said that there are several muggleborn journalists still on the continent who are similarly entangled in whatever bureaucratic mess the Dark Lord created."
He sighed. "I know, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I should have been here. I promised Ted that-"
"You're here now," I softly interrupted. "There's no use in wishing to change the past."
Alex looked at me strangely, as if he wanted to tell me something. He opened and shut his mouth several times before looking at Laura, who shook her head. Eva raised her eyebrows as her eyes darted back and forth between Alex and Laura. The two of them smiled at her. Whatever they were thinking, they weren't going to tell us.
"We should probably look at these wills," Alex said.
"Yeah," Laura agreed.
Wordlessly, we sat down at the kitchen table, the only sounds being the scraping of the wooden chairs against the floor and Teddy's half-babbles from the other room.
I handed Ted's will to Alex. "I know what it says," I sighed. "He wrote this when Nymphadora became an Auror. I begged him to update his will before he went on the run, but he refused to. He said that he didn't want to think about how he might die."
"Can't say I blame him for that," Alex muttered as he tore open the envelope. He unfolded the document and began to read it to himself. "Well, Eva, apart from some gold left to you, Millie, and your parents, Ted left everything he owned to Andromeda and Dora."
A tear fell down Eva's cheek. "I figured as much," she mumbled, wiping it away. "Thank you, Alex."
If I spent too much time dwelling on Ted's will- and the fact that he was gone- I would probably break down myself. Quickly, I handed Nymphadora's and Remus' will to Eva, not that reading it would make me feel any better.
"I take it that this one is more recent?" Laura asked.
I nodded. "After Ted…" I started, unable to finish the thought. "I forced Nymphadora and Remus to make a will after Teddy was born. No surprises in this one either- they left him everything."
Eva carefully opened the envelope. "Everything to Teddy," she read. "Well, that certainly makes it easy."
"Yeah," I said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, desperately thinking of something to say so I could temporarily push Nymphadora's death out of my mind. "That's it. I feel silly that you lot came all the way out here for five minutes to read information we already knew. Especially you, Eva. London is far from here."
"No, we wanted to be here, Andromeda," Alex insisted.
"Yes, we're here to support you however you need it," Laura added.
Eva gave me a sad look and nodded. "We're here," she reiterated.
I knew they meant well, but I found their support for me far too smothering for my liking. It suddenly became hard to breathe, and I had the urge to run upstairs to my bedroom and lock the door behind me so I could be alone.
Laura's eyes narrowed on me, her gaze softening as she studied whatever expression was currently on my face. "Well, I think Alex and I will be off," she declared, rising from her chair. I appreciated the fact that her intuition was sharp enough to detect my desire for solitude. "I have a ton of things to do for the Order."
"And more trouble to cause," Alex muttered under his breath with a scowl. "But yeah, I have a bunch of stuff to do too. I need to finish unpacking and work on some reports for St. Mungo's."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that first bit!" Laura sang. "Bye-bye, Andie! You too, Eva!"
The two of them rose from their chairs, and with a small pop, they were gone. I turned to Eva next to me, selfishly hoping that she would leave too.
My sister-in-law had a troubled expression on her face. "Andromeda, I have to tell you…" she started, nervously tapping her foot.
"Tell me what?" I asked, confused. "Is something about the wills bothering you?"
"Er, no, nothing like that!" she immediately exclaimed. "It's just… just…"
Just as with Alex before, whatever she wanted to tell me was going to remain a secret for now.
"It's nothing," she sighed, getting up from her chair. "I should probably go too. I have a long drive back to London."
"You can stay longer, if you'd like," I offered, hoping she would decline. "I can brew a pot of tea, and we can watch a movie or something."
She shook her head. "No, it's fine," Eva said, tugging on her golden hair. "I need to take care of some stuff too."
I nodded in response, too drained to reply verbally.
"Will I see you at the cemetery on Sunday?" Eva asked.
My heart sank. I had forgotten that Ted's family and I had made plans to visit Ted, Nymphadora, and Remus this week. Nausea bubbled in my gut, and I fought the urge to cry. The graves were the most potent reminder that they were gone, and I didn't know how I'd react to seeing them again. It was cowardly and selfish of me, but I didn't want to go to the cemetery at all.
"We'll see," I hesitated, staring at my feet under the table.
Eva glanced at me, her disappointment evident. "Alright then," she said, biting her lower lip. "Just let Mum know your plans ahead of time."
"I will."
Eva turned on her heel and left the room. I heard her shut the front door of the house, and before long the sounds of her revving her car's engine mixed with Harry's laughter and Teddy's small noises in a discordant, yet palpably dull manner.
Lazily waving my wand at the kettle, I brewed a pot of peppermint tea, hoping that if it couldn't distract me from my pain, that it would at the very least alleviate my grief-induced nausea.
Thank you to mwinter1 and Gatherer for the very kind reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far! Admittedly, I decided to have these first 6-8 perspective characters are do a lot of legwork setting up plot lines and themes for later on in the story, so once we move beyond the first third of the story or so, I anticipate that the pace will pick up a bit. We'll see though, as characters are often wont to do as they please. The outline of the story is wholly complete, but I think that I'm going to try and see if I can get Astoria in it a bit more (she will not be a perspective character though). She's a lot more fun than I anticipated.
Acanthus mollis (also known as bear's breeches, sea dock, bear's foot plant, sea holly, gator plant, or oyster plant), represents the fine arts and cunning tricks. I thought that this flowering plant fit this chapter (and the next) quite nicely, as Eva is an artist. There are also quite a few characters who think they are being devious and cunning in withholding information from others. Acanthus mollis is a summer plant, and its leaves and flowers can be seen imitated on Corinthian style columns. If you've ever read the Aeneid, you may also recall that Helen of Sparta is described by Virgil as wearing a dress with embroidered acanthus leaves. While none of our characters (sans perhaps Narcissa) would claim to be the most beautiful woman in the world, they have all been whisked away to a Troy of their own: an unfamiliar land of grief, sorrow, and radical change.
The Nozomi space probe was launched on July 4, 1998 with the intent to study the upper atmosphere of Mars. Unfortunately, due to a series of malfunctions and electrical failures, it was unable to complete its mission. Instead, Nozomi's mission was changed to orbit around the sun for four years, where it would conduct flybys of Earth before eventually heading to Mars in December of 2003. It took many pictures of space, various planets, and moons during this time. Unfortunately, just five days before Nozomi was to enter Mars' orbit, the probe's main thruster failed, ending its mission. Today, Nozomi, now defunct, remains in the sun's orbit near Mars.
As stated last week, we are now moving to a somewhat irregular schedule for uploading. I don't anticipate disappearing for months on end, but I think updates will probably be every 2-3 weeks for time being. I am hoping to eventually move back to a weekly schedule, but I am not promising anything. I write for this story nearly every day, but I'm finding that the pressure to commit to weekly uploads is causing the quality of my writing to decline somewhat, which in turn, means that chapters take longer to edit. You, as readers, deserve better than a hastily put together chapter each week.
Once again, thank you to everyone for reading, commenting/reviewing, and supporting this story.
Next time, we'll see what Eva decides to do with her painting and if Andromeda decides to go to the cemetery.