Sisters Again.

It was a Sunday morning, June 21st, 1998, bread in the oven, and a very loud thirteen-week-old Edward Remus Lupin screaming unstoppably. Andromeda was trying her hardest.

She wanted everything perfect for him, for her grandson. She had forgotten how difficult babies were. Still, his mother was much harder to subdue. Teddy- so far- did not see fit to transform himself into strange things whenever displeased. And Andromeda had grown used to the multi-coloured hair.

She was considering charming another strand of her hair to match with his, but it felt slightly disrespectful to Nymphadora. She had dyed half of Nymphadora’s colour changing chunk in her own hair a bright purple, a shade she detested and Nymphadora loved on her. It made her feel better. She had left the other half the grey it had turned after the Battle. In Remembrance.

It was in the very midst of her Sunday morning chaos that a sharp knock struck the door. Only muggles used the front door. Wizarding folk came through the floo, or used a portkey to her dining room. She had a few non-magic friends, but it was by their insistence alone.

She preferred to stick with Ted’s family. They were kind. Accepting. She was also too far often too busy. Not anymore.

No sick to heal at a safe house, no one to take care of but the sweet little boy who sported vernal green hair today, spiky and long. Like a muggle punk rock star. When the visitor knocked on the door, Andromeda was blessed with the timer going off both for the bread, and for her to wake up if she had not, and Teddy wailing to be picked up and freed from the cage that was his cot.

The visitor would have to wait. Andromeda rushed, almost fell twice on the stairs, skidded over hardwood floor to the oven and saved the bread, slamming the timer.

Then she started casting randomly, the alarm clock, to lift Teddy and change him, - a messy spell, that worked only when it absolutely needed to- dress him, to open the front door, to lock the panic room, and to change her clothes.

She yelled for the visitor to come in, reassuring that she would be with them in a minute and that babies are unpredictable. This was not a good outfit. At all. She had not really been focusing on it, and Andromeda was in Wizarding robes, which, if there was a Muggle at the door, was going to be received very strangely. People already thought that she dyed her grandbaby’s hair. Andromeda did not need any more bad press.

“Just a second!” Gods, she was taking far too long. It was a miracle they had not come to find her yet. Most of Andromeda’s friends were friendly. By which she meant, all the Muggles she knew were immensely nosy. Andromeda apparated upstairs, a little wave of dizziness stalling her, restricting her. Then she rushed to the bedroom, to find Teddy, fully dressed, quiet, and looking perfectly pleased with himself.

“Yes. Be good when strangers come over and don’t be good for me.” Andromeda sighed, scooping him up. Teddy giggled and Andromeda rolled her eyes. “Just like your mother you are.”

She cast on herself again, robes replaced by skinny jeans and a vivid pink jumper Teddy had taken a liking to. He smiled, his mouth hanging open when he saw it, and then his tiny first pummelled her neck, Teddy turning in to look over her shoulder. And drool all over her hair and jumper. Perfect.

“I am so sorry, it was just so hectic and…” The words died in her mouth.

It was not a Muggle, that’s definite.

“Narcissa.” She breathed, frozen.

Narcissa Malfoy stood in her living room, holding a brown wicker basket covered with gingham. High heels made Narcissa taller than her, twisted hair made her look older, jewellery infinitely richer. Teddy shifted, sounding random vowels and changing his hair to bright, pink, and long. Copying the jumper. Andromeda was conflicted. She should have left her robes on.

“Hi.” Narcissa looked so nervous, so afraid of rejection. She eyed Teddy and that was what Andromeda was afraid of. Her grandson would not be hurt. She would not scar him. She was alone, sure, but she had learnt from Ted, and Ted’s parents, and she had talked to Nymphadora about what she had wanted for him.

She would not involve him in this feud. And she would not neglect Narcissa. She could do this. It would hurt, it was awkward, she could do it. She had to.

“Hi, Narcissa how are you? Please, sit. Would you like some tea, coffee?” She kept her tone light, cheery. Inviting. A perfectly polite host. It seemed to work. Narcissa relaxed, regained her composure.

“Here, this is for you.” She had just ignored everything she said. That was fine. Then when she lifted the basket, which was way too heavy not to be spelled, Narcissa’s hands snapped behind her back, entwining, and Andromeda understood. Narcissa just needed to be herself, feel like herself.

Andromeda peeled back the cloth, leaning back to not drop Teddy to the ground. Standard gifts, food, and wine. Elvish wine.

Which was their favourite in Bella’s last year. Narcissa was too young, and they had sent her away, offering to come with her only if she really needed. They had spent the night plotting pranks in drunken splendour.

They were so shit-faced by the fourth bottle, they decided against going back to bed, hiding from the youngest, they slept in the potions classroom, under the tables. It was an acquired taste, Mulberry Elderflower Elvish Wine, and she doubted Narcissa would have bought it for anyone else.

Every single gift here had some story behind it. Some reason why Andromeda loved it so. It was sweet. The wine was not.

“Thank you Cissa. I really appreciate it. I love all of this stuff so much; I can’t believe you remembered it all.” She meant what she said. She saw Narcissa’s instinctual defences, and then she saw her relax them. The nickname was no mistake. She wanted her sister back.

She sent the basket to the kitchen absentmindedly, flicking her hand. With that out of the way, pleasantries were too. Andromeda had, momentarily, forgotten the rule they had.

To never let anyone know what they were truly capable of. But that rule had never applied to each other. So, why start now?

Besides, a basket flying was no representation of what she could do.

Teddy. Narcissa would ask about Teddy. She was going to do everything right. This was not her child. This was not hers to mess up. Everything had to be perfect.

“Please, sit.” Realising that Narcissa would not until she did, Andromeda struggled, choosing a big armchair and sitting Teddy so his head could lie on the armrest, his body across her thighs. She motioned to the chair closest, nodding.

Younger sisters were hard work. Narcissa was so uncomfortable here. She had every right to be, because standing there, she was the picture of elegance, etiquette exemplar.

Black and grey robes that hung around her, wrinkled and patterned, intricate swirls and stars adorned with gemstones.

Andromeda’s living room was a guilty pleasure. Ted had said they could do anything they wanted, promised her no idea too crazy. They ended up with a yellow wall, polka dot orange, mismatched armchairs all bright, different sizes, fully glass coffee tables, lots of little ornaments, from everywhere they went, different cultures and statues lining shelves, walls. Andromeda was ecstatic. She never much liked it, but it was outward, cramped, randomised, and it sat well in her stomach. She looked forward to using it. She loved that she chose, that she painted the walls, that she took the pictures of them that hung, framed.

And it was, spitefully, the kind of room that every member of her family would detest, except, perhaps Bella. Mother would Avada Kedavra a mirror before she stepped into it. So, it was understandable that Narcissa felt out of place. She was supposed to.

This room was hers, her defence against them, her strength united. Ted was fucking brilliant. She had asked him, in politeness, what he wanted to do with the living room, and the man said ‘your happiness is enough for me’. He said ‘your happiness is enough for me’. ‘Your happiness is enough for me’. Her happiness had never been enough. This room was a pride and joy for her, and Narcissa felt she was trespassing because she was.

Andromeda knew Narcissa wanted to ask. But she would not divulge information unprompted. She turned her attention to Teddy instead, to Nymphadora, Ted, even Remus. And her.

He liked being fussed over, his features shifting to demonstrate. He had picked up the skills, the intricacies of his inheritance quicker than Nymphadora had, already altering his nose and lips wilfully. She bent, flicked her hair to the side before realising she had created a curtain between herself and Narcissa. Okay, so Narcissa was not going to ask. It had been too long.

“Sorry it took me so long to answer the door, mornings are always a little in need of magic in this house.” There. That was perfect. Ask about Teddy, and we can move on.

She had assumed Narcissa would be aware she had a child at home, but the shock when she walked in with Teddy was enough to prove otherwise. So close to the Battle, Narcissa was likely busy with preparations. She set the dreaded question up for her, made it easier to ask.

“Of course, I understand. When Draco was young, we had a similar time.” Narcissa smiled, warmly, doing her best to be courteous. She thought Teddy was hers. She must have, because Narcissa did not act without cause, and Narcissa did not not speak without it either.

“Narcissa I’m forty-six.” Narcissa did not really think… No, there must be some other reason she would not ask. Who would have a child in a war?It was incredulous. But then again, well, who would marry a werewolf?

“I know.” She was laughing. Only lightly, but still. This was not a humorous situation.

“Narcissa he’s not mine.”

“I never thought he was!” Now Narcissa was actually cackling, no lightly about it. She hid her face in her hands, shrieking.

“Then?”

“I know he’s not-” Narcissa’s laughter was uncontrollable, interrupting herself. “Yours, Merlin Dromeda, You would think-”

“Okay it is not that funny.” It really was not, especially now that Teddy had seen her and started, excited and thrashing around.

“I had not heard about him, it’s true, but I did hear of your daughter's marriage.”  There were a thousand things to dissect in that, the admission of incognisance, the recognition of her earlier, mistaken creation of trust, the insult of marriage, the dangerous discussion that could easily lead to.

The picture of Teddy’s parents, a Polaroid, not a photospell, that was stuck in the middle, right next to Andromeda and Ted on their wedding day. It was the happiest she had ever seen herself look in a picture, rivalled only by Nymphadora’s eighteenth birthday. Narcissa did not give her time to analyse it. “It has been a difficult year, and a child can bring a challenging joy within us all.”

And the biggest risk of it all. Her daughter. Because that subject was the end of them. That was why Narcissa had not asked what she wanted to.

“You like his hair?” Narcissa looked as if she saved all her tact for that very question, a curt nod the most she could muster. “You can say no.”

“No, Of course, I love it, just- tell me one thing- did you do that to the poor child or was it some other wizard?” Narcissa definitely did not love it. Teddy was enjoying the conversation, his understanding not fully developed.

“Actually, he chose it himself, see-“

“Andromeda! Please tell me you’re joking. He is a baby. He can’t choose anything-” Narcissa was, in her own special way, caring. And that was good. That made this possible.

“-Narcissa!” She was only mocking her a little bit. “He can, he’s a Metamorphmagus. He can change his appearance.”

And just like that, Narcissa was back to laughing. So, curious, Andromeda did something that was absolutely a breach of trust, and rash, because if she had given it a second’s thought, she would have remembered Narcissa was a natural Legilimens.

Andromeda felt, reached for her magic, and pulled. Narcissa’s expression was bleached of joy, rearranged to curiosity. And Andromeda took, a tiny, really minuscule look, into only the very forefront of Narcissa’s mind.

Just enough to see why she was laughing, and then, immediately dropped any hold she had, returned to herself. Once, she had enjoyed it. Cissa used to like random invasions, if only because her defences lay so immaculate it only put her rival to shame.

But that was when they could trust one another. And now, they could not.