InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Don't call me Nymphadora!"

The day had faded into evening by the time Narcissa arrived in the stone circle. It was neutral turf, chosen specifically for that reason. Lucius knew where Narcissa was and when to expect her to return, and Narcissa reckoned that her sister had made similar arrangements with someone (possibly her husband). It was altogether too likely from Andromeda's point of view that this was an ambush of some sort. Narcissa felt the possibility on her end as well, though it seemed less likely. A social embarrassment would be difficult, but it wasn't as though anyone would kill her for talking to Andromeda. Except perhaps Sirius, and Narcissa could defend herself in a duel.

"Andromeda?" Narcissa asked the figure standing amidst the stones, just to be certain.

For good measure, Andromeda had not only informed Ted about her plans for the evening, but she’d seen fit to leave word with Sirius as well. He clearly had bigger things going on at the moment than keeping up with her potentially misguided attempts at speaking to parts of the family that cut them both out ages ago, but she liked to make sure her backup plans had backup plans. It was only smart, all things considered.

Ted and Dora had been staying with his parents for a while now, as if enjoying a bit of a summer holiday and not merely indulging more of Andromeda’s paranoia. She wasn’t at all sure what was going on with her elder sister, but…

Perhaps someone would. And Narcissa was the least likely to set fire to her messages upon receipt.

“Narcissa,” she greeted, dark eyes very wide. “Thank you for meeting me.” Her tone implied she’d fully expected to be left wanting.

"You're welcome," Narcissa said, as if by reflex. She pulled back the hood of her summer cloak; her long hair shimmered white in the moonlight as she looked Andromeda up and down, as if she hadn't had a chance to really see Andromeda in all this time. And in truth, there hadn't been much of a chance: occasionally at the fairs, when they were both watched, or in passing on Diagon Alley.

This was the first time Narcissa had had a chance to even consider managing a meeting without someone, probably Bellatrix or their mother, interfering. And the first time Narcissa had considered broaching it to Lucius. "I thought someone should warn you about Bellatrix. The Dark Lord's demise has driven her quite mad, and she's lashing out."

“Sirius mentioned,” Andromeda murmured, pensive. Dark where her sister was fair, she hadn’t bothered with a cloak or even a vague nod to the more traditional dress Narcissa preferred. Short, tousled curls blew into her eyes and were brushed back, and she fought the nervous habit of tucking hands into her pockets. There was nothing there to fidget with, and she didn’t want to give the impression that she was anxious.

She was. It had been a long time since she’d spoken at all to Narcissa, much less one-on-one. Her gaze strayed past the other’s shoulder, like she expected to see Lucius there, waiting.

“Are you…” She paused and re-evaluated her question before giving it voice. “She hasn’t threatened you or your family, has she?” That would be a definite sign of things gone awry. The whole family had been prone to protecting Narcissa as the baby.

"She hasn't yet, but I haven't seen her since the business at the hospital. I don't know where she is," Narcissa explained. "She did attack Rodolphus. I saw his injuries and tended to him afterwards. She might not have deliberately tried to kill him--he survived, after all--but he was badly injured." They were Blacks and the corollary was obvious, so Narcissa didn't bother with it.

Andromeda’s expression tightened minutely, flattening her lips and drawing tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear it,” she said, after enough of a pause that said she wasn’t sure how to parse that. She’d never met Bella’s husband. She’d only encountered Cissa’s in passing. It was like knowing the details of a stranger’s life, for all that they hadn’t spoken to one another or connected at all for what felt like a lifetime.

Fingers twisted together until Andromeda glanced aside with a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, soft and sheepish. “I feel like we’re a moment away from commenting on the weather and I hate it, Cissa. I hate this.”

"I don't want to be drawn into the madness that is Mother, and apparently Bellatrix, again. You're not the only one who had to fight to get out of it, Dromeda. I did everything they asked and it wasn't enough." Narcissa balled her hands into fists. "And now Bellatrix is running mad because her stupid Dark Lord got himself killed and she can't get him back. And--there is trouble, Dromeda, a lot of it. You must be wary. How involved are you with what Sirius and his little friends are doing?"

Open-and-close went Andromeda’s mouth for a beat, like she was at a loss over how to respond to that. She was. She’d gone through dark spots in the past, feeling guilty about… everything. Leaving the way she had, though at the time she’d been faced with only two options and neither had been ideal. Not trying harder to reconnect with Narcissa or Bellatrix. Making Sirius the only family with whom she still spoke, and occasionally getting together with him to toast to the family tree that had pruned them away so thoroughly.

“I’m… aware of it,” she said, finally. “Peripherally involved.” All of that was true. Andromeda offered supplies and safe houses and resources as she could. The goal was to help, but not to place her family at risk.

Narcissa's eyes hardened and she frowned. "You're a target, then. You will be if you're not already. Don't stay where you are. Go abroad. To America, not Europe. Take your daughter and--anyone else you value." She reached into the sleeve of her gown and withdrew a heavy pouch: galleons, from the sound of them, and more than a few, which she offered to Andromeda. "If she gets wind of your involvement, especially with--" Narcissa trailed off. "And she will, if you're dealing with Sirius and the rest of them."

There was a flash of misgiving, the tiniest flicker of alarm that Narcissa was reaching into a sleeve and might come out with her wand, and Andromeda tensed in turn. She didn’t wholly relax at the sight of a jangling pouch. Instead, a single brow arched, imperious.

It was the kind of look Bellatrix wore better, but Andromeda was still a Black. She could pull on haughty without too much effort.

“I don’t want that,” she informed, flat. “And I don’t intend to run. Dora is safe with her father, and I can handle myself, Cissa.” She was unimpressed with the implication that she needed to run. Worse, that she needed help doing it.

Narcissa had no idea how much money Andromeda and Ted actually had other than that it was insufficient to carry them out of Britain in the style Andromeda had been accustomed to. And quite possibly not enough for bribes to do so quickly and quietly, which was key in this situation.

"Dromeda, if it were just you, I'd believe it. But there is a child to think of." She held out the purse again. "And you don't know--there is trouble. Terrible trouble. With the Dark Lord gone, all those whose basest instincts were reined in by Him have started to run wild. Arlo Mulciber and Lily Potter--if she's actually dead--won't be the only ones to die. Every stupid grudge and every erg of petty vengeance that any of them feel like they could extract will be prosecuted in blood, gallons of it. The Dark Lord's finest, such as most of them are, are at war with each other as much as they are with Dumbledore's men."

“Are you leaving, then?” Andromeda asked, still making no move to take the purse. She’d no intention of accepting money that she didn’t need. Maybe she and Ted weren’t as well off as the Malfoys, but very few families were. They’d manage well enough, even if they had to talk about extending the current holiday-that-wasn’t to be certain of Dora’s safety. “If there’s infighting, then you must be at some kind of risk from anyone upset at Bella’s actions.”

Power squabbles were a messy business among any group, but they had to be particularly nasty when the group was comprised of people ready and willing to commit murder on the command of a madman. Andromeda shivered delicately at the thought, her shoulders rounding slightly inward.

Narcissa's posture was ramrod straight. They beat that sort of thing into the Sacred Twenty Eight when they were young. "Malfoy Manor is well defended. I don't think Bella will come for me--" (yet, Narcissa thought, though she was well aware that if her own part in the machinations behind the downfall of the Triumvirate came clear, there was no guarantee of her own safety, or Draco's) "--and the rest can't breach the wards. Under the circumstances it's not as though we're having people over for parties." Narcissa made a delicate moue of distaste at the whole thing.

"And we have resources--I don't mean galleons--to go abroad that you no longer have access to. But first and foremost, I am not--nobody wants to kill me. I haven't scorned anyone or married out or anything else that would be considered a crime against society at large." Before Andromeda could object, she added, "I'm not arguing what it is, just talking about the risk." She was still holding the purse, a bit more loosely, hoping she could convince Andromeda to take it. "If you won't go, at least send the child. No child asks to be born into a war."

“A crime?” Andromeda repeated, affront plain as day on her face, even in the waning light. “A crime.” She made a noise that was part scoffing laughter, part something like despair- not a sob, no, because she wasn’t going to allow sadness over the fact that some people couldn’t see past the tips of their bigoted noses.

But despair, over the idea of anyone looking at her marriage or her daughter and seeing anything but love? That, she might indulge. Had done already, once or twice.

Shaking her head, Andromeda glanced away from her sister. “You’ve never met your niece. I’ve never seen my nephew. We haven’t spoken in years and now we’re doing it in a deserted field like it’s something to hide. Our sister’s face is plastered up all over the country because she’s lost her mind and started murdering people.” And people thought her marriage was a problem, honestly. Perspective was everything.

She looked back, measuring. “Tell me you didn’t invite me here to hand off that purse like it’s a good deed accomplished.”

"No!" Frustration leaked through Narcissa's well-trained affect. She consciously loosed her fingers and glared back at Andromeda. "I came to warn you you've been betrayed. You and all of your friends. And that with Bellatrix on the rampage, you need to secure yourself and your daughter. If you won't leave, at least move house and have new wards done up, and don't involve Sirius' friends. I'm angry that you left me but I don't want Bellatrix to murder you, and she might, now. Nobody is holding her reins with the Dark Lord dead."

That was probably the most sincere she’d seen Narcissa in… well, it had been a while, at any rate, and Andromeda was too preoccupied to go chasing down the details. They’d come to her later, anyway. She hesitated, expression softening up, and then exhaled a long sigh. “We’ve been made aware there’s a security issue.”

The wards on every bit of property they owned or frequented had already been adjusted accordingly, but extra caution wouldn’t go amiss. It never did, even if it chafed a bit.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, quieter now. The suspicion that had been holding her rigid seemed to abate, at least enough that Andromeda no longer appeared like she might be considering smacking that purse out of her sister’s hand by force. “For leaving. I didn’t want it to be that way.” She huffed softly. “I still don’t. But I’m relieved to hear that you don’t want to see me murdered.” If it sounded like wry amusement, it was only because Andromeda wasn’t sure what to feel at the moment.

"Of course I don't want you murdered. You left, but you were my sister." Narcissa smoothed out her free hand along the skirt of her robe. "The Dark Lord had some brilliant people among his followers but many of them were witless and violent. And Bellatrix, you know how she longed for someone to look up to, to guide her? When it stopped being our father, He took over. She was never entirely balanced but she didn't used to sit in tea rooms and joke about who she was going to kill."

“I’m still your sister,” Andromeda pointed out, gentle. “Or you’re still mine, anyway.” Dark Lord, no Dark Lord, casual discussions of madness and murder- not exactly minor details, not the sort of thing she ought to be overlooking, and yet the lure of reconnecting to Narcissa was surprisingly strong.

Family was complicated. Theirs just happened to be more complicated than most.

Narcissa was still, for her, relatively overwrought. "I don't want Him to come back and cause more trouble, and Bella does. I don't know that anyone else can make her stop, Dromeda."

“Cissa.” The urge to soothe was responsible for the step forward Andromeda took, but she caught herself. She wasn’t trying to crowd her sister. “Do you know where she went? Or even where she might go?” It had been long enough that Andromeda couldn’t venture a guess at all.

"No." Narcissa shook her head. "She might have gone abroad. But I can't say for certain. And if she got out of Britain ahead of the Aurors, she can come back. There are--things--she wants. And she might come for them. Or--" and she felt the blood drain from her cheeks "--she might take you, or your daughter, to force Sirius' hand, if she thought he had one."

“Things,” Andromeda repeated, brows pinching. That sounded appropriately ominous, and frankly worried her more than hypothetical threats. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose, pressing at the beginning of a headache she hadn’t suffered since they were children. It was a headache she tended to think of as, Bella’s done something and probably someone’s going to yell about it.

Swallowing, she shook off the highly misplaced nostalgia. “Right. That’s… something to keep in mind.” It was a good reason to keep Dora with her grandparents for a while longer. Or maybe other extended family. Ted had plenty of it.

Finally Andromeda seemed to be taking this seriously. If the mention of the horcruxes hadn't done it, Narcissa had no idea what would. "There is no safety but at least you can improve your chances. Are you sure you can't use the--are you sure there's nothing you can do with this--" she gestured with the purse "--to help with whatever arrangements you need made? You don't have to worry about where it came from. I have my own accounts and I don't have to answer for every knut. It's fresh from Gringotts; nobody has enchanted it with follow-spells. Ready cash doesn't fix everything but it smooths a lot of small problems, especially when you're, shall we say--" and Narcissa's lips turned up in a cool smile "--skirting the law."

“No, no money.” A slim hand waved it away for a third time. “It’s enough to know you cared to offer it, Cissa. I know we don’t have your means, but we’re not without options.” Andromeda’s smile was a wan thing, but still there nonetheless. It was even genuine.

She wasn’t wary of the money itself, and she wasn’t wary of Narcissa’s motives. Maybe it was pride holding her back. Ted would probably chide her about it later. He was always more practical than she ever could be.

"Very well," Narcissa replied, and put the purse away. "But should you change your mind, I can still smuggle you out of the country or make some of your problems go away. You must beware, though. You in particular, and--anyone you care about."

“Ted,” Andromeda said, giving the name all the weight she could. “His name is Ted and her name is Dora.” She paused, amending a rueful, “Nymphadora, actually, but she hates it. I’m hoping it’ll grow on her in time.” Her expression tilted back toward solemn, because now wasn’t really the time to pick the same old fight. They were making progress.

By a certain measure of it, anyway.

“We’ll be careful. I know you will, too. You’ve always been the smart one.”

"I've always been the one who could do what Mother wanted most easily, or at all. That's not something that will help or save me here. But if Bella comes after Draco, I will destroy her utterly." There was a steel in Narcissa's voice that she'd lacked as a girl. "You should go back before Sirius decides I've dragged you off to the Manor as a blood sacrifice or something equally ridiculous."

All things considered, it had been the smart play to go along. Narcissa had positioned herself well. Andromeda couldn’t envy that, though. It was nothing she could’ve done and still been happy. “He does have a dramatic streak,” she agreed, mildly. It ran in the family, so none of them could actually throw stones.

She didn’t press for more. Instead, she gave her sister a long look before ducking her chin in acknowledgement. “It was good to see you, Cissa. I hope we can do it again. Perhaps under more pleasant circumstances, next time.”

"Perhaps," was all Narcissa said before she turned to go.