Author’s note: It’s been a little while since I had time
to write fanfiction, but this one came to me one day. I’m not responsible for any of the characters in this
fanfic...blame JK Rowling for them and their actions.
Blood Remembered
The young
woman appeared beside the pond with a faint pop. She adjusted her emerald cloak and looked around at the small
cottage in front of her. The
nearly-full moon provided just enough light for her to walk slowly around the
pond, carefully holding her cloak up so it wouldn’t be soiled by the mud.
The cottage
stood a little ways away, its yard littered with paint buckets and brushes,
most likely remnants of their latest attempt to make this place look more
livable than it actually was. Narcissa
paused to look at the house, so scruffy and unimpressive, wondering how her
sister could live this life.
Ted was
gone, visiting his ailing Muggle parents.
Narcissa had heard Lucius laughing about it at dinner, the information
coming from one of the spies the Dark Lord had planted around the family. At the thought of these spies, Narcissa
pulled her cloak tighter around her. It
was dangerous being here at this time, when Mudbloods and blood traitors were
hated and hunted. If Bella knew…
Narcissa
lingered at the door, noting the rusting hinges and chipping blue paint. It was such a change from their childhood
home, which was full of grandeur and history.
This house had history as well, but not one Narcissa cared to think
about. Mother would sob if she saw where her
second daughter was living now.
Draco would
be wondering where she was. She’d put
him to bed before leaving, but he always woke and called for her, wanting water
or kisses or bedtime tales. Lucius was
gone yet again, doing as the Dark Lord bid him. He wouldn’t be there to comfort Draco if he woke up with a
nightmare.
She
wondered suddenly about Andromeda’s little girl, the metamorphmagus whose birth
had made Andromeda nonexistent.
Narcissa had never met the girl, but had seen her twice, hair pink or
green or blue, always smiling and holding onto her daddy’s hand. Her name, Nymphadora, showed just how little
Andi had changed. Draco had never met
Nymphadora, and she doubted he ever would.
Narcissa
turned away from the door, feeling foolish for even considering this visit. The
danger wasn’t worth it, nor were the words she was sure to hear from Lucius if
he discovered where she’d been. She
doubted Andromeda would receive her anyway.
They hadn’t spoken in several years, since Andromeda had married her
Mudblood boyfriend. To the rest of the
family, she didn’t exist, and most days Narcissa joined Bellatrix in pretending
that there had never been a third Black sister. But then came days when Narcissa would find a small note or a
letter from Andromeda, written during History of Magic or Transfiguration, and
all Narcissa wanted was her big sister back.
But their lives were different now – they had both made their choices.
“Cissa? Is that you?”
Narcissa
turned back to the door and saw Andi standing there, dressed for bed in a thin
nightgown. She had a glass of milk in
her hand and a children’s book, no doubt on her way to Nymphadora’s bedroom.
“You
shouldn’t be here,” Andi said. “They’re
always watching the house, you know.”
“I know.”
“Why did
you come?”
Memories,
wishes, dreams? How could she explain
that while a name could be blasted from a family tree, memories and emotions
could not be erased so easily?
“I was
leaving,” Narcissa said. She pulled her
cloak around her once more and gave a sneering look at the yard around
her. “I came to see where my sister was
living…you call this a house?”
“If you are
only here to insult me, then you may as well leave,” Andi said. “I have a book to read to a little
girl.” She shut the door loudly,
leaving Narcissa in the cold.
With one
last glance at the shabby house, Narcissa twirled on the spot, banishing all
memories and emotions from the sister who had once been her friend but now must
be her enemy.