A Whisper in Your Ear
Andromeda had rarely stayed in one place for long. She couldn't. Andromeda knew her parents would be close on her heels when she first ran.
She had given her escape some thought but at the time it was more wishful thinking. Now she was actually stuck in the middle of it and it was too late to turn back.
Andromeda managed to find an illegal portkey holder in Wales, Malcolm, who would take her out of the country; she kept him in the dark as much as she could but it was the trade of illegal travel to keep secrets. This sparked the trail of aliases, Nadia Cooper was first. It was safer if he didn't know who she was even if he could probably piece the truth together on his own.
From there, Andromeda went to France. She knew it wasn't the best plan but she knew France. From all the family trips, some familiarity was nice in this time of chaos but she also knew it would be one of the first places they would look for her. Thinking she'd be hiding out with family, she had to move on quickly.
Andromeda knew she had to move on when news came that Malcolm was dead hit the newspapers, in an article written by Rita Skeeter no less. This meant her parents were serious about finding her and she really had to be careful.
Crossing to America was difficult at best but it was a lot easier for Amy Malcolm, a young girl travelling to live her dream of being a big time journalist, to slip past the MACUSA than those trying to hunt her down. Hiding in such a big place seemed like an easy feat, from Gainesville to San Francisco, she wore many names and visited many places.
Until one day, she was walking down the high street to see none other than Rabastian Lestrange asking questions around the small radio store she worked in.
His tall frame and imposing presence were unmistakable, and his voice carried the hint of arrogance that was typical of high society purebloods.
Panic gripped her chest, and she quickly ducked into the alleyway next to the store, hoping to remain unnoticed.
“No, no, sir, you misunderstand me.” Rabastian defended himself to the rather disgruntled old shop owner. “She is my fiance, I'm just trying to bring her her keys, she left them at my place.”
“Give to me, I give them to Isabella.” The old man stuck out a withered hand to grasp the keys but Rabastian snatched them away.
“That's very kind of you but if these get lost, it'll be me in the dog house.” He chuckled forcefully.
With that, her boss lost interest. Turning away from Rabastian without another word and hobbling back into the store, muttering to himself.
Seemingly defeated, Rabastian walked away from the store. As he walked past the alleyway, Andromeda reached out and took hold of his jacket. Dragging him into the alley with her.
Rabastian stumbled forward, his expression one of surprise and annoyance as his was yanked into the dimly-lit alleyway. He began to protest, but his words were cut off when he saw that it was Andromeda who had pulled him in.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. For a moment, he didn't realise. She looked different but there was no doubt, this was Andromeda.
“Hey, ‘Drom.” He said with a sly smirk.
“Don't fucking start.”
“Woah, woah, such hostility. Has being away from home so long really erased all your manners.”
Andromeda didn't have her wand anymore, it could be tracked so she left it behind long ago, but she could see his resting on his belt beneath his jacket.
“Leave Bast. Just go and leave me alone.”
“You know I can't do that.”
“I don't care.”
Rabastian let out a hearty laugh, loud enough to put Andromeda on edge that someone might come down the alley.
“Muffliato.” she whispered softly.
“You really think you can get away with this, don't you? I knew you always had that fire in you, and oh merlin-, the way you were at that wedding.” He paused to look her over. “Why would going home be so bad?”
why? why? why? WHY?!
That all too familiar, deep bubbling rage filled her stomach as she thought of a plan to get out of this.
“There it is, that fire.” Rabastian notes, studying her face.
“I'll only ask one more time.” She warned. “Leave.”
His hand rested in his wand. “Your family misses you, your friends…even I find the recent functions a drag without some decent conversation.”
“I'm not going back just so you can have someone to talk to at parties.”
“Worth a try.” He shrugged, drawing his wand.
Andromeda didn't give him a chance, being in the run so long made her quick. Quicker than she ever was. In a flurry, she knocked his legs out from under him, snatching away his wand before he had even hit the floor.
“I told you to leave.” She enunciated forcefully as he held his own wand against him.
Rabastian's breath hitched as he found himself at wand-point. He studied Andromeda's face, taking in her changed appearance. Gone was the soft, demure girl he remembered. In her place was someone hardened, sharper, more wary.
"I see you've picked up some things on your travels," he said, a hint of admiration in his tone.
Andromeda didn't lower the wand, her grip firm and unwavering. "You have no idea," she said, her voice steady.
Rabastian pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing slightly as he adjusted his weight. He eyed the wand in her hand, then looked up at her again.
"You've grown a spine," he commented, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Hard not to when your family is hunting you for sport," Andromeda retorted. She kept her voice low, mindful of the need for stealth. Her eyes darted to the alley entrance, making sure they were still alone.
Rabastian followed her gaze, then leaned back against the alley wall, his casual demeanor in stark contrast to the tension in the air.
“I'll make you an offer.”
Andromeda kept the wand trained on him, her eyes narrowed. "And what kind of offer would that be?" she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.
“Your deal with the Malfoys is a wreck, of course, you beat his ass and then fled the country.” He explained. “Come back with me and we will announce our engagement.”
Andromeda's grip on her wand tightened, her heart leaping to her throat. "Engagement?" she echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice. The idea was so far-fetched, so unbelievable, that she almost laughed. Almost.
"Are you insane?" she finally managed to say, her voice a mix of shock and irritation. "You expect me to just waltz back into society, announce our engagement, and what? Live happily ever after?”
Rabastian chuckled, lounging casually against the wall like they were just catching up over tea.
"It's the only way you can come back without looking like a disgrace," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Your family would never accept you returning, not after the spectacle you made at the wedding and fleeing the country, but if you come back as my fiancé, it could be seen as us planning a... long honeymoon.”
Andromeda's mind was racing. The idea was utterly ridiculous, but a small, traitorous voice in her head couldn't help but consider the possibilities. It would allow her to come back, to see her friends, her sisters, her cousins. The idea was crazy, but she couldn't deny the logic. Coming back as Rabastian's fiancé would offer her a way back into society, a cloak of legitimacy and respectability.
A snap of consciousness.
"What part of this whole situation makes you believe I ever want to go back?"
Rabastian shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "Desperation, I suppose,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over her. “You can’t stay out here forever, and you’re running out of places to hide. Your only other choice is to go to the Malfoys and beg him to take you back and that's just messy.”
Before Andromeda could retort, he was selling his plan again like a relentless salesman.
"Oh, and, come on, 'Dromeda, don't tell me you've forgotten all the parties, the prestige, the power you'll be inheriting." He paused, then chuckled. "I don't believe that for a minute. You've always craved the spotlight.”
"you mistake me for my sister."
Rabastian studied her for a moment, taking in her defiant stance, the way she held her wand like she was ready to fight at a moment's notice. He shook his head slightly.
"You and Bellatrix are not so different, you never have been.” he said, his voice quiet. "You may have this newfound courage, but you're still a Black, at your core. You're built for propriety and luxury, not hiding out in America, pretending to live a Muggle lifestyle.”
The words stung, but there was some truth in them. That had always been what they were raised for, after all - propriety, luxury, social status. But it was a life she had chosen to leave behind, a life she couldn’t bear to return to. Not with all that came with it.
"You know nothing of what I am anymore," she said, her voice quivering as much as she hated it.
"Don't I?" Rabastian asked, an edge to his tone. He pushed himself up off the wall, stepping closer to her.
"You may have run away, changed your appearance, found a new life, but deep down, you're still that girl I met at balls and parties, wearing gowns your mother picked out and smiling at the men your family wanted you to marry.”
Andromeda grew cautious of his movement but let him play out his little speech. No doubt the sad little man had practice in the mirror beforehand so it would be a shame not to let him finish.
"That was never who I was and if that's all you ever thought of me, then you never knew me."
Rabastian's smirk returned, but his eyes glinted with a challenge.
"Oh, I knew you, 'Dromeda," he said, taking another step closer, the width of the alley closing in around them. "I knew you well enough to see that beneath all your politeness and proper behaviour, there was a fire burning. A fire that was never going to sit quietly in a pretty dress and let life happen to you.”
“Then you know I can't go back with you.”
The distance between them was almost non-existent now, the air around them thick with tension. Rabastian's gaze held hers, unwavering.
"You don't have a choice," he said, his voice low. "You can either come back now and save your family's reputation, or you can keep running, living in hiding, looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life."
He leaned down, his mouth nearly brushing against her ear. "But you know as well as I do that you'll never truly escape who you are.”
"Then I choose...freedom." She whispered low, pulling away from him to see his face.
clunk
Rabastian gasped, doubling over as something shifted within him, like his bones were curling and reshaping. He stumbled away from her, his hands clutching at his abdomen. The muscles in his limbs strained, contorting in ways they shouldn't.
There was an almost grotesque sound of bones braking and shifting as Rabastian's body changed before her.
He tried to reach out for her, a strangled groan escaping him.
"Andromeda... stop..."
But it was too late. The damage had been done. Rabastian's body twisted and writhed, caught in the agonising throes of transformation.
Rabastian writhed in pain, his body contorting in ways that made the skin crawl. He let out a strangled cry, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and anger.
"Please..." he gritted out, "Please...stop..."
But she didn't. It was cruel, perhaps, to watch him suffer like this, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. He deserved it, somehow, in her mind.
For the things he had said, the life he wanted to lead her into. Back to her parents.
Andromeda bent down over him, her cold fingertips brushing a stray hair out of his face. It was almost motherly.
“Tell my parents,” She whispered close to his ear to make sure he heard her through the pain. “To leave me the fuck alone.”
Rabastian's eyes, filled with agony and disbelief, met hers. He tried to form words, to protest or plead, but they came out as guttural groans instead.
She watched as he writhed on the cobbled street, her words cutting even deeper than any spell could. His body was almost unrecognisable now, twisted and misshapen, and yet somehow, his face, contorted with torment, still seemed to carry traces of his old self.
Rabastian's eyes, filled with agony and disbelief, met hers. He tried to form words, to protest or plead, but they came out as guttural groans instead.
She watched as he writhed on the cobbled street, her words cutting even deeper than any spell could. His body was almost unrecognisable now, twisted and misshapen, and yet somehow, his face, contorted with torment, still seemed to carry traces of his old self.
With soft care, she slipped his wand back into its hold on his belt and then she stood.
The last thing Rabastian saw before blacking out was Andromeda gliding away down the cobblestones.