Sisters Again.

Narcissa was curious alone. She wanted to make her ask.

Instead, she tore down her own walls, faux memories, deflections, and looked into her eyes, her mind open. She trusted her. She would not be unfair. She wanted this.

And it was slightly unfair, because Narcissa did not have a choice. She had to see, hear whatever thoughts ran through her head right now. She could, however, decide if she wanted to look into Andromeda’s memories, prized as they were.

That was why they had learned Occulumency. To give Cissa a break. It must have been beyond  tiring, to constantly have to register, process everything. Every single thought, strand, tangent of imagination, every memory, daydream, in a school full of gossipy, boisterous kids. It was also tiring when they had not yet mastered the craft, and spent many a night pretending to sleep while guarding their minds.

Bella had taken it as a personal insult, not being able to stay conscious in her sleep. But both had agreed that Cissa deserved silence in rest at least, her sunken eyes a clear indicator. So sleepless nights it was. That was the trade they had always made. Their lives for hers.

Until Ted. She had become so practiced, it was harder not to stand guard, and filtering her thoughts had become second nature to her. She closed her eyes, gripped the armchair.

Do what you will.

“Andromeda I-”. No, she would not. Narcissa knew an opportunity when she saw one. So, Andromeda waited for her to take it. And she did.

It was strangely painful, bright light in her eyes as Narcissa made the transition, and her consciousness repelling. She had forgotten how it felt. It had been so long. Narcissa was uncharacteristically gentle, thumbing files, tracing memories.

Andromeda’s conscious mind organised itself in rows, files upon files of magical experience. Her life in beige folders. A big white screen to view it on. Her sister had always been true to her name. Andromeda did not stop her as she brushed past, heading straight for memories of the third person.

“Let’s see these!”

Andromeda practically cried, Narcissa’s voice strange and loud and echoing and so disorienting. It was a sensation that was individual to this, to Legilimency and speaking.

Gods, think it. Please. Gods.

Narcissa laughed, in thought, which was impressive in its own right. Her thinking voice was tinny, quiet, and to Andromeda, it sounded like all their voices blended together.

Then, she flicked through folders, searching. For herself. Of course. Who else? She selected a file without a title, a vertical black strip coding it for something. She felt she should know. She did not.

Aware Narcissa was currently privy to all her thoughts, feelings, she focused back on her. Narcissa lifted it, and Andromeda nodded in response, waving her to come over so she could see too. Narcissa, being Narcissa, shook her head, rolling her eyes, tapping a heel that was thunderous.

Andromeda went over to her. Narcissa smiled, mischievous and kind. She could suck this up. For Cissa.

When Narcissa opened the file, she had not expected to be pulled into the memory. When she experimented, searching for pieces to put in her faux wall, she never experienced memories first hand before.

Maybe that was the advantage of Narcissa’s being a natural Legilimens. Or, Andromeda raised her eyebrow. Or, that was the advantage of it being Narcissa’s memory. So, Narcissa was the black strip. Good to know.

No, I’m not.

Oh. Right. Isn’t that fun? The child can hear me. Good for her. Well then, since she can hear me, why are we in your memory?

Andromeda knew why. Narcissa was, and had always been true to her name. Of course, simply seeing herself would not suffice, no, she had to be herself.

Yule. At Black Manor. Wonderful. Andromeda was not a fan of third person memories, of seeing herself through someone else’s mind. Narcissa must have chosen it for a reason.

Doesn’t act without cause that one.

No, I don’t. Just watch. Look at you.

So, Andromeda did. Begrudgingly.

She stared at herself, fifteen years old, before the rumours of Ted began to spread, when she saw herself as a fragment, a shard in the enchantment of the Black sisters three. She watched herself pull Bella to the dance floor, convince her that mother would be pissed if they danced together, watched herself turn and her dress swish.

She watched as she convinced Cissa that she could meet appropriate pure-blood boys her age if she joined them. She watched the last night they felt truly free, truly one. Punishment promised, chastisement inevitable, the return to school too far away, rain trapping them inside.

Everything was horrid. And then they danced, and laughed so loud they definitely disgraced themselves, and they were happy.

And it was so rare for them. Moments of joy, without alcohol too, too rare.

She did not blink, because Narcissa asked her to watch. She felt the devotion Narcissa felt. To her sisters. To her. She did throw up some obstructions then.

Narcissa did not need to know that. Narcissa would have done anything. In that moment, Narcissa would have torn the world apart, or herself, to stay like that one second longer. Narcissa’s emotions still leaked to her magic then, and her sisters, overly attentive as they were, forced her to sit down, feeling her exhaustion before she herself did.

She felt the confusion, the intimacy of the trust she had. Narcissa had told her to watch. She watched herself, daring Bella to jump off the balcony, so she could practice her saving skills. She was so sure. She had done the spell a dozen times. On feathers, true, but she got the concept. She watched Bella climb the stone, turn around, arms outstretched, before Narcissa staggered through her vertigo, world spinning to wrench them back, unstable magic made sensitive.

Narcissa was still woozy as she locked the door, with her wand this time,- wait. Not her wand, Bella’s. The curve was unmistakable. And bound them to the floor.

She did remember this. She also remembered the promise they made after Narcissa passed out and they were freed, to never mention this to anyone.

Narcissa pretended not to remember the night, and they did not want their little sister to know she could overpower them. It was later, when Andromeda was crying, Bella having received news of her dalliances and ignored her for two weeks, that Narcissa, unawares, shared the memory.

To make her feel better. It worked. She could not remember why, but it worked.  She kept watching, Narcissa staring at her ceiling before passing out, and then both girls were whisked away, back to Andromeda’s filing room of the mind. Narcissa stared at the folder, pressed it to her heart, and shoved it back.

Narcissa moved on, reaching for another folder. This one had a black strip as well, but it was zig zagged, with black dots at each cross. Andromeda was scared. There were few people who’s memories had been shared with her, but those who had held great importance for her. The file was offered, and Andromeda seized it. Trust.

This was all about trust. Reliability. Dependability. Faith. So, there really was no choice.

Andromeda opened it.