146 Bay View Road, Bideford.
Andromeda did not know how to progress. She only knew that she would not cave, that this time she had nought to apologise for, and even if she did, she would not. Besides, her sister needed her help. Andromeda was in charge. It was kindness, it came from kindness, that she gave Narcissa the power. The choice, the ability to decide where they went from this. But Andromeda wanted her sister back, and it was too late for that to change.
Andromeda Black was intelligent. Andromeda Tonks was resilient. She could come back from losing two sisters, a husband, a child, and she would. For Teddy, and Teddy alone. She could exist without her, and if she had to, she would.
“Narcissa,” saying her name out loud hurt. Physically severing, as if she had just addressed the huge dichotomy between them, her eyelids fluttering, trying the muggle way of rapid blinking before silently, wandlessly casting for her tears to disappear. Maybe Narcissa was ready to break in front of her, but she could not return the favour. Her pride would not allow it. “Whatever you want.”
Gods. That was perfect. The right thing to say. So why did she feel so shitty? Maybe it was the sacrifice of her core, the possibility to withdraw, back out. The lack of control.
Narcissa had grown, because her infinite trust had apparently long expired. She was suspicious, waiting for the trap, the catch, the joke. Andromeda nodded her, reassuring her that it was genuine, she had no regrets. She did not wish to rescind the words.
“Thank you.” Narcissa croaked. She had not cast her tears away, and Andromeda wondered if she wanted to. Narcissa Malfoy could appreciate it at least. She had not given an answer. Andromeda would not simplify it any further. She had to, at least, say what she wanted. She would not prompt.
Andromeda wanted to stay, but the moment was far from peaceful, and there was nothing left to say. Narcissa was in concentrated thought, debating, doing something. And Andromeda was antsy, worried for both herself and her sister. So, Andromeda would not stay, legitimate fears creeping upon her, but she did do something incredibly stupid.
“146 Bay View Road, Bideford.”
Incredibly stupid.
And not just for her, because Andromeda had a dependant to think of and she was not thinking of him. A huge risk. One that there was no signals to take. But Narcissa did not seem as shocked as she should have been, and alarm bells sounded in her mind.
“Why are you telling me that?”
Why was she? It was, incredibly stupid. And she could squirm her way out of it now, by saying it was anything else. But she wanted to be able to trust her. It was stupid because Andromeda, and any of the Blacks really, did not care for Andromeda’s life. If it were only her life at stake, there would be no worry.
The war was over, true, but the safe house may still need to be safe. There were Death Eaters not yet caught, Death Eaters that would not be tried for the endless lists of crimes they had assuredly committed.
Like Narcissa’s blonde twin of a husband, who was, she reminded herself, at least encouraging her to eat. She doubted it was her son, Narcissa had always been stronger than that, and Bellatrix was the epitome of mixed messages, every reassurance followed with smiling criticisms, joking, but cutting all the same.
He should be jailed, sent to Azkaban for his murders, his wrongs. And she, in an incredible moment of complete stupidity, -that she still did not really regret- just compromised any promised safety. Andromeda took the safe away from the safe house.
Andromeda wanted her sister back.
“My house. Whatever you wish, I should be there.” And she would. Where else could she go? Narcissa could have the choice, and she would get to focus on Teddy.
So, for the second time in her life, Andromeda rose, stroking Narcissa’s hair, doing her best to paint it as an accident. And Andromeda turned. Andromeda left, the dark clouds having cleared away, leaving the starry sky in its wake.
And Andromeda did not look back, on her sisters, at the angelic sight of a Narcissistic seraph knelt by the murderer, her sister, her proclaimed twin, her partner in crime, draped in her own beautiful cunning, her distinct, sadistic, cruelty.
Andromeda did not look back, even as fate taunted her, her sister’s constellation flashing, her own stars fading. As Narcissa’s magic sobbed, raged at the loneliness, mourned the loss before she knew what it was.
Andromeda did not look back, because she knew if she did, this time, she would not leave.