raise a glass to freedom

[meiselr]

Color Palette Challenge #43 - Andromeda Black

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narcissax‌:

Narcissa gave her sister a look before shrugging. “Fine, but your refusal of giving me an answer pretty much answers my question.” If it hadn’t been Ted, or even Molly, she would have been quick to throw her off that idea. “I’m fine. You do it well, even if I’m at a loss for why you do it.”

“There’s enough money in the family account for me to buy robes for centuries. Do you worst, Andy.” Cissa teased gently. After her sister’s pink flicked out, her smaller one reached and curled tightly around the digit. She pulled their hands up to her mouth, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her sister’s palm. Narcissa never intended to be in a position that put her and her older sister on the outs. It was simply something that had come to be out of their differences in values, and Narcissa guarding herself against any possible hurt.

“My kitten is an extension of me.” Narcissa pouted before exhaling slowly. Her chest decompressed, but she didn’t allow it to sink her shoulders anymore than what would have been associated with normal breathing. Catching her up meant a lot of things, and if they were really being civil, she wanted to confide in her about what was happening in her life. “I’ll tell you when we’re home, okay?” 

Her head rested against her sister’s shoulder for a moment as she hummed. Things like this weren’t meant to be discussed outside the home where anyone could hear and proceed to use any information gathering against them.

“Maybe,” she conceded, staying close, her tone level, “but if it means we don’t argue, I’m happy to leave it there. It truly doesn’t matter who bought it for me, because I love it. Maybe almost as much as you love your Evil Kitty Cat of Doom?” She practically melted when Cissa not only took her pinky finger, but kissed it too, sealing the promise just like when they’d been kids. God, she’d missed this. 

Groaning, she shook her head. “No, nope, I think I’ll put that down in the fail column. There might be enough gold in out vaults to get you an outfit everyday but I’m the one who’s got to account for all of those purchases, and surprisingly enough I like to leave the house and have a life.”

She’d been about to make another teasing remark about her cat, but the slightly serious turn her voice took had her pausing. “Is everything okay?” They were nearing the apparation point now, moving her arm so she could curl it around Narissa’s waist as she cuddled in close; she sought affection just like her cat and she was powerless to ignore it. “Do you need me to Side-Along you?”

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ninianechang‌:

The other’s delight in her acceptance brightened her mood as they walked toward two steaming cups of hot chocolate.  Just as quickly though she was thrown off balance.  She had wrongly assumed this was part of the woman’s everyday life and not something her family might look down upon.  Niniane cringed.  Between herself and the umbrella, she suspected the umbrella would have been the less offensive.  

“A ladybug umbrella shouldn’t be offensive,” she said with a confidence that belied her internal struggle every time she went out with one.  “It’s their loss. It’s only a matter of time before it catches on.  See that man with the cane over there.”  Niniane dipped her head and covertly looked in the direction of a wizard walking with an intricately carved cane with a distinctive falcon on its handle.  “Umbrellas have just as much personality.  Who wouldn’t want a bright spot of color on a rainy day? It’s the accessory of the future.”

Stepping into the dry and warm pub was a pleasant relief from the weather outdoors.  Wiping her feet on the door mat, she went in search of a table while Andy made her way to the bar.  Fortunately, though the pub was doing a brisk business, a spot for two opened up near the fireplace.  Niniane sat down and tried to ignore her wet clothing.  With any luck the fire would set things to rights. There was nothing worse than spending any length of time in soaking clothing.  When she saw Andy step away from the bar, she waved her over to their prime spot.

The instant the mugs hit the table she knew they were in for a treat.  The heaping mountains of whipped cream, sprinkles, and marshmallows was a delight.  Niniane had to laugh.  “How could I be disappointed?  It’s everything I could want in a hot chocolate.  I used to live off this in university.  Thank you!”

Niniane plopped one of the marshmallows into her mouth, resisting the urge to start on the steaming hot drink until it had cooled sufficiently not to scald.  “So where did you get this beauty,” she asked, gesturing to the umbrella.  “If mine isn’t where I think I left it I’ll be in the market for a better one.”

This woman, whoever she was, was delightful. “They shouldn’t be, no. But it’s that age old adage isn’t it? Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. That’s very much my family, unfortunately. They don’t quite see things the way we do. But that is their loss. Just means more for us to enjoy.” It wasn’t really something she wanted to get into with a stranger, about how her family were bigots, because at the end of the day they were still hers and still all she had. “Let me just go get the drinks!” And with a smile, she was gone. 

When she got back to the table and removed her outer robes, throwing them over the back of the chair to dry off, she took her seat and handed over one of two teaspoons she’d swiped; this was less of a drink and more of a desert. “You’re more than welcome! Not everyone has a sweet tooth enough to enjoy this, so honestly I’m just glad I’ve someone to share it with.” Scooping up a half-melted marshmallow, she blew on it before popping it into her mouth, humming at the burst of sweetness on her tongue. 

“Oh,” she could feel her cheeks getting warm, and she moved the spoon from her mouth and back to her mug, dragging it across the whipped cream. “It was a gift. I can ask where he got it from? Unlike me, he’s Muggleborn so he knows all the best places to go.”

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passing notes in secrecy || a & s

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burningstarsirius‌:

Of the three Black sisters, Andromeda was by far the least obnoxious. She’d been mostly as insufferable as her sisters back in Hogwarts but he’d noticed a change in her as she’d interacted with students from different backgrounds and respected the fact that she’d actually, however slowly, started to revise her views on muggles and all things muggle related. She was connected to some people that he figured would also have a good influence on her (Ted and Molly, notably) and it of course mattered that she kept in touch with him. Aside from Regulus (and his parents, but that was complicated) Sirius was mostly happy to write off the whole pureblood community. But Andromeda had stayed in touch, enough so that they were actually basically friends and had monthly meetings, and that was certainly endearing. It frustrated him endlessly that she wouldn’t just cut ties, though, and it was one of the biggest sources of contention between them. It seemed to come up somewhat frequently but Sirius tried not to lead with that. 

It was actually somewhat miraculous that he’d been the one on time for four months in a row since he wasn’t a terribly punctual person at the best of times. If it was important, like for work or the Order, he made an effort most of the time but oitherwise he sort of got there when he got there and everyone had mostly grown to expect that. Apparently, Andy was even less punctual than he was. It didn’t really surprise Sirius when he walked into the Manchester Starbucks and saw her at their usual table. Luckily, he’d made enough forays into the Muggle world and not just for these meetings, that he knew well enough how to blend in. Cigarette behind his ear, dressed mostly in black topped off with a leather jacket, he didn’t look out of place in the least. It was fun to try the various different coffee concoctions this place seemed so fond of making so he ordered a Salted Caramel Mocha. 

Obviously Andy didn’t realise it was him when he sat down across from her with his drink, since it looked like she was about to tell him to leave before she recognized him. He just met that almost comment with a raised eyebrow and smiled when she told him he was late, shrugging it off. “Oops.” He didn’t regret it and wouldn’t mind having to buy the second drink, since he had in fact remembered to bring a decent amount of muggle money. He nodded at her concern. “Yeah, just fine. Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t beat me here every time.” He took a sip of his drink and blinked a few times, getting used to it. It was sweeter than he’d expected. “How’ve you been? Busy?” They didn’t communicate much outside of these monthly meetings aside from some casual letters so they usually had quite a bit to catch up on. His encounter with her bitchy of a little sister was fairly fresh in his mind so family would likely come up sooner rather than later, but he’d try to go a little bit without bringing that up. 

Closing her book and putting off to one side, she was prepared to give her total attention to her cousin; she sometimes felt like she was trying to make up for lost time, for all the years she’d snubbed him for perceived infractions her parents and aunt would tell her about. She wasn’t proud of the person she used to be, but she was trying to make up for that now. 

“It’s joked about that I’d be late to my own funeral.” that was neutral enough, wasn’t it? “Maybe it’s a Black Family trait, there had to be one that doesn’t end in blood and gore, right?” Taking a sip of her coffee now that it had cooled, she pulled an interested face; it certainly didn’t taste anything like pumpkin juice, but it was surprisingly alright. Huh. 

Coming back to the conversation, she cradled her oversized mug. “A little busy, there’s only so much balancing the books that I can do before everything is done. Been avoiding my sisters,” they were always a touchy subject and she loathed to bring them up, but there was only so much she could keep bottled up. “Other than that? I accidentally attacked a woman in Diagon Alley with my umbrella, that was mortifying.” 

Crossing her legs, she leant forwards a little. “And how about you? How’s the Auror life treating you?”

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regiisbellatrix‌:

 “That’s under the presumption, sister, that this ‘catching up’ involves things that I’ll enjoy hearing. You know how picky I can become when it comes down to her.” Her dark eyes grazed the porcelain features of her sibling. She’d never seen it herself, but most often mistook the two sisters for each other. Whilst Bellatrix revelled in the fact that if it had been Narcissa, the sentiment would be taken kindly, she wasn’t exactly sure if she could say the same for Andromeda. The fact that her sister seemed to cherish in taking a separate path unnerved her in a way that she chose to stay silent about.

It was a strange feat, to say the least, especially coming from Bellatrix Black.

She tried not to let the smile creep through at her sister’s kiss on her cheek, a remnant of the past which they were so accustomed. It had changed now- time had changed the both of them, led them down different paths to the point of no return. A part of her wished that it could only be said for herself, but as always, Andromeda had her own way.

She’d stopped in front of Madam Puddifoot’s, the door chiming as she’d pushed it open. Her eyes rolled.

  “A table in the back.” Her lips pursed. “Please.”

“Then led the conversation,” she replied, flicking her eyes heavenwards, “whatever it is that we have to do to have a pleasant afternoon, you have my blessing.” Madam Puddifoot’s hadn’t been at all where she’d expected her sister to take them, and honestly she couldn’t figure if the slurly attitude was because of all of the pink or it was just her default state of being coming out. She tried to keep a lip on her smile, but the terse please had it creeping up on her anyway. “Mother would be so proud of your impeccable manners, Bella,” she teased, her voice low enough so only her sister could hear as they followed after a nervous looking waitress. 

Taking a seat across from Bella, she picked up a drink’s menu and glanced over it half-heartedly. They didn’t serve alcohol, what a shame. She felt like they’d need it to ease back into themselves, and wasn’t that a sad thought? “The menu’s got kittens on it.” She hadn’t been in here herself before now, but she’d walked past the pink front often enough and seen happy couples sat in the window seats at Valentine’s. Either the food (and/or tea/coffee) was exceptional here, or Bella really hadn’t been paying attention to where they’d been going. 

“So this is incredibly awkward,” she said with force cheer, deciding to meet things head on, her smile a little too fixed. “And I’d really like to move past it if we could? Clearly ignoring it isn’t working, so tell me what it is you’d like me to say so you’ll love me again.”

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narcissax‌:

“No, but you look like a drowned rat.” Cissa pouted, reaching out to remove a darkened tendril from her sister’s face. Andy knew how Cissa felt about maintaining perfect appearances. She’d witnessed many a struggles of her trying to get Bella to put on some eye cream. 

“A male friend?” Narcissa pressed, her brow arching in question. She wasn’t going to let the matter go until she knew if it was Ted Tonks or some other. “I’m not surprised you can make friends, Andy. Now, if you told me it was a pure blood friend that gave you that, I’d be shocked.” Andromeda was a Black sister. If she wanted a friend, she could most certainly have her choice from the masses. Narcissa just knew that their circles were very different. “If you set my robes on fire, I’d just buy more.” Narcissa dead-panned. It wasn’t like there weren’t winter fashions coming out in a few weeks anyway. Even so, she had a nice selection set away in one of the closets at Lucius. “Why don’t we just agree to not speak of anything muggle for the next few hours? Maybe then we could actually have a nice dinner.” She gave. Narcissa didn’t particularly like fighting with her sister, but she hoped being harsh would be more of an incentive to stop the interactions with the likes of Tonks.

Cissa would have accepted the kiss to her cheek with warmth had it not been for the other nuzzling closer and wetting her own skin. “Andy.” She groaned, using a gloved hand to press delicately at her skin before scoffing. “Mabel is an angel!” Narcissa replied, a displeased look directed at her sister. Mabel wasn’t a demon cat, and she was firm on that matter. “We can be civil if you leave the muggle toy outside and stop talking about my cat like she’s the devil.” Narcissa replied, walking with ease though her head was inclined to the side so she could have a proper conversation with her sister.

“A fetching drowned rat” she corrected, bumping their shoulders together before rolling her eyes heavenwards. “And a friend friend, gender has nothing to do with it. You should be happy I’m socialising, instead of just getting lost in numbers day after day. You know if you ever wanted to help balance the books, I’m open to the company.,” she offered, knowing full well that the invitation would be ignored. Frankly, she didn’t blame her in the slightest. 

“Then I’d just set those robes on fire too.” Her shoulder lifted up in a shrug, her voice carrying an undertone of duh. “And that’s an offer I can’t refuse, you have yourself a deal, Cissa.” Holding out her pinky finger, she waited for her sister to curl her own around it, eyes crinkled in a smile. This was the best possible outcome of their surprise bumping into each other and she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Laughing at her reaction, she butted her nose up against her cheek one final time, just because she could, before falling into step with her. “She’s a demon kitty,” she repeated, when she absolutely wasn’t; the worst she’d done was shed all over her clothes and steal her mittens once, but the opportunity to poke some fun at Narcissa was too good to pass up; or rather, she was trying too hard pretending that things were fine between them, and it was making her uncomfortable. God knows how it was making Cissa feel. 

“We already agreed on being civil and the cat wasn’t part of it. But I promise I’ll stop picking on her providing you catch me up on everything I’ve missed during the Cold Shoulder War of ‘77.”

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lucius-a-malfoy‌:

As she offered her arm, he took her hand, tucking it into the bend of his elbow as was expected of him. Recognizing the necessity to cease his wallowing if he was to socializing with anyone, he borrowed his wand and gave it a wave before his hair and skin had been sufficiently relieved of any water accumulating in the silver strands. Thus satisfied, he recast the umbrella charm to keep himself and Andromeda safe from the rain as they walked. He didn’t know where she was headed, but he was content to allow someone else to lead for once. He was controlling by nature, of course, but now was atypical for him. He would accept where she chose so long as there was a decent wine list and the company giving it business was more or less agreeable. His standards for agreeable, it seemed, had shifted just a bit, as he might normally have had lunch with the woman on his arm without the buffer of her sister’s presence. Perhaps it was to both of their benefit, as he found himself drawn to the softness in her eyes. Naturally, he didn’t think that he’d be able to allow himself that luxury the next time they saw each other, but he’d have it now.

Her question nearly caught him off-guard. Not because she was wrong or mistaken–she wasn’t–but because he hadn’t actually expected her to ask it. The polite thing to do would be to ignore his strange deficiencies and either tease an explanation out through well-placed words or pretend altogether that nothing was amiss. However, Andromeda had never fully embraced the expectations, the ‘polite thing to do’, or even the most socially acceptable paradigms for interaction. Lucius had never appreciated that before, but the bluntness of asking him if he was okay was refreshing. Of course, he couldn’t answer her in anything but half-truths. Andromeda was far too close to Narcissa for him to risk that. The last thing he could handle was Narcissa finding out about how low she had laid him. He didn’t quite feel like a king anymore, and he was still working out how to get back to his throne–one he had carved with hard work. It wasn’t an option not to reseat himself, to abdicate in favour of licking his wounds. If he was to lose Narcissa in this capacity because, as she had hurled at him, he had placed his ambition above her, then at the very least he would continue to cultivate those ambitions.

Still, Andromeda needed some sort of answer, and his silence wasn’t going to work. She would either push, or become irritated. Pushing meant he couldn’t control the pace of the conversation or prevent escalation, and an irritated Black sister was something he couldn’t handle at the moment. Still, he couldn’t give her an answer entirely without substance, because he wasn’t stupid enough to think that just because she was softer than Narcissa and Bellatrix that she was somehow witless. She’d figure him out. “You think so?” he asked her, voice perhaps reflective of how tired he was. Still, she deserved something other than flippant denial. “I only just returned home from an extensive trip abroad.” He chose his words carefully. “Things… were not quite as I expected them to be upon arrival.” Understatement of the year. 

archived

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ninianechang‌:

Niniane smiled in a way she hoped would set the woman at ease.  It was no one’s fault really…or maybe a little bit of everyone’s.  

“No, you don’t see them around here often,” she agreed as she edged over slightly to let other pedestrians pass.  On days like today when she actually encountered another umbrella it struck her just how close yet far away the muggle and magical sides of London were from one another.  On the other side of a wall there would be a sea of drab and colorful umbrellas fighting for space on sidewalks.  The would would fit right in.  Niniane struggled between wanting to belong and wanting to stand out.  As small a thing as it was, she almost wished she had been able to find that umbrella now.  Besides being dry, it felt like the right kind of standing out now that she knew she wouldn’t have been alone.

“Yours is very charming.  It would have kept my green one good company.”  A dawning realization hit then.  “I probably left it propped against the miniature umbrella tree now that I think about it.”  It was the kind of thing she would do to help keep herself organized when her workroom was packed.

“Nin,” she said, shaking the woman’s offered hand. “Please don’t be and you don’t need to do anything.  A hot chocolate and some company would be brilliant though.”

The girl was sweet and possibly the kind of person her parents wouldn’t want her around. She owned an umbrella. And an umbrella tree. She might be far past her teenage years, but that didn’t mean she’d grown out of pushing her luck. Hence the offer of a drink. She practically lit up when her offer was accepted, and with a little head gesture towards the pub they were off. 

“I don’t tend to meet many people who think things like umbrella’s are charming. If my sisters ever find out where I keep it, they’d light it on fire. Who would’ve thought that a bit of plastic and metal would be so offensive?” 

Once they reached the pub, the place warm and smelling of damp, she brushed her wet hair off her forehead and nodded over to the bar. “I’ll get the hot chocolates and you find a table?” It was busy but not packed, so it took minimal time to get to the bar and leave it with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. She’d gone all out, whipped cream and marshmallows with chocolate sprinkles on top - decadent by all standards.  

Finding Nin and the table she’d managed to snatch, she put the mugs down with a flourish, shrugging out of her outer robes as she did. “I hope you’re not just a casual fan of chocolate.” The drink was thick and syrupy sweet if she was remembering right, and almost too much. She’d had two once and the stomach ache she’d got afterwards had been well worth it. “Otherwise you’re going to be sorely disappointed with it.”

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lucius-a-malfoy‌:

Evidently, Andromeda was in no mood for his deadpan type of humour. Or maybe his delivery was lacklustre. Either would make sense. Andromeda and he had never been particularly close, though he had always attempted nicety where he could. She was Narcissa’s sister, and thus soon to be his family. Or… that had been the case. Merlin, he drowned in uncertainty now surely as he wished he would drown in the rain that was running down his face. Well… perhaps that was morbid. However, he didn’t begrudge himself, still in the midst of his small depressive spiral.

The sigh that left him was uncharacteristic. But he had already beat himself up over his behaviour with Narcissa. If Andromeda left this interaction thinking him eclectic, then perhaps he would find a way to live with that. It wasn’t the worst thing she could come away with. And she was already the black sheep of her own family. If she tried to ruin him, he could get out of it. Maybe. Perhaps. Still, he ran a hand through his wet hair and lifted grey eyes to hers once more. “Perhaps you’re right,” he answered simply.

He was completely surprised when she invited him to stay with her. Join her? When had he ever sat down with Andromeda Black with Narcissa? And was it pathetic that her mere vicinity to his betrothed was enough to have him considering it. She may not spend all of her time with Narcissa, but she had definitely seen the other woman more than he had in the last eight months. “Surprisingly, I’d like that,” he answered simply. “If you were serious. If you were hoping I’d refuse, I can do that as well.” This he said with more direct humour, hoping she might actually pick up on his teasing.

It was the sigh that had her, really. Such a little thing and she could feel the concern rumble in her chest. She didn’t like Malfoy, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t cruel, no matter how she’d acted as a child... she’d grown up since then and was better off for it. And whilst she had no doubt that he’d show even an ounce of concern for someone he deemed beneath him, merely because of their lack of magical ability, she wasn’t quite so made of stone. 

If it kept her away from being any bit like him (or her sisters) then she didn’t care how soft it made her. 

“I was serious.” She caught the attempt at humour, his reply light hearted, but she felt there was more underneath that; granted, she could be projecting right here, but that brief flash of surprise and want? She wasn’t making that up. “It’ll be interesting to adhere to social norms for the first time in a while.” She held out her arm with the expectation that he’d take it, the years she’d spent being taught how to act still lurking under that rebel mask she wore. 

She glanced over to him as they walked, veering away from The Leaky (not really his palette, was it?) and heading somewhere a little fancier. She couldn’t stop going back to that sigh. It was because he looked like a bedraggled wet dog that had her feeling bad, it had to be. “Is everything okay? You’re not quite yourself.”

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ameliabonesx‌:

“Perhaps we can go back in time several hundred years and whoever designed this party of the city.” Not entirely sarcastic but if one didn’t know Amelia, her tone could’ve been misconstrued as sharper than intended. Hopefully the slight twitch of her lips dismissed that notion, however, when she nodded at the other woman. “Well, I suppose one could commend you for trying the muggle method of avoiding rain but…” she eyed the umbrella, “it doesn’t seem like it would do a good job anyway–– what happens if your cloak is too long or your robes? Seems like a good way to splash water back onto your heels as well.” She was just staying the obvious, really, and assumed the other would gather as much. 

She waved away the concern and eyed her robe, “nothing a charm won’t fix and, even if it won’t–– this cloak has far outlived it’s expected lifespan.” Amelia smiled lightly at the other, not really warm but cordial enough. She was nothing if not polite. “Really–– I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I mean it,” the witch reassured the other, nodding to the shop they’d stopped outside of. A tea shop– perfect timing really. “Are you going in?” She was already pulling open the door with every intention to get a hot cup of tea herself. 

“It’s always the big cities that have the narrow little streets, I’ve never understood it personally. Have you ever been to Blandford Street in York? Nightmare.” Diagon Alley was cramped but Blandford Street barely had an arm’s width between each side and was only quiet between half five and quarter to six in the morning. Pulled out of her own musings, she looked down at her feet and shifted them a little, before glancing back up. “I don’t suppose I’ve ever thought about that before.” All her shoes were charmed and her robes tailored to skim a millimeter off the floor, but now that it had been pointed out to her -- how did muggles deal with that? 

She’d ask Ted. 

She felt guilty about the robes, but it’d be ruder of her to insist after she’d already been told it was fine more than once. She shot her a grateful smile. “If you’re sure.” 

Perking up at the mention of tea, she felt her shoulders relax. “Absolutely.” God, a good cup of tea, or an irish hot chocolate, or a too milky latte sounded amazing right now. And food. Before her stomach decided to try and eat itself. “My treat. It’s the least I can do.” 

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narcissax‌:

Narcissa sighed. Her older sister was one of the few people that didn’t always indulge her wishes upon first demand. The smaller blonde loved Andromeda, but the only expression peeking through her features at the moment was annoyance. “It’d stop you from getting even more drenched, Andy.” She insisted before the other agreed to come home with her. 

“From who?” Narcissa already had a very good guess as to who would gift her such a thing. A moment was dedicated to the thought of tearing the thing apart later. The blonde sneered, shaking her head as the other took her arm. “We have enough magic and fire wood at the manor. I don’t think we need any more kindling.” She hummed, glancing up to her taller sister before licking over her lips. “You look like a wet cat.” Narcissa replied.  The rain continued not to wet her, but her sister was beginning to look more drowned by the moment. For someone who valued appearances, the tiny girl couldn’t much stand for other’s to see her in such a disheveled state. 

“Let’s just apparate home and find you some dry clothes.” 

“I won’t melt if I get a little wet, Cissie.” She had no doubt whatsoever that that reference would go right over her head, but it didn’t fail to amuse her. “It’s only water, I’ll survive, even if my hairdo won’t.” She flicked what remained of her curls over her shoulder, unconcerned, if only because Narcissa looked so concerned. If she’d been alone, she might’ve mourned her hair -- that, yes, had taken some time this morning to do -- but with his sister by her side, to poke fun at? She wasn’t even remotely bothered. 

“A friend,” she mock gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth. “Shocking, I know, the fact that someone wants to associate with me who thinks umbrella’s are charming.” It was easier this way, to make fun of the situation, rather than fall into another argument about who she spent her time with. She missed the days where she could just have a conversation with either of her sisters without it turning into a screaming match. She gave their linked arms a short squeeze. “Why, we must draw and quarter them immediately for this heinous crime. And oh, look at you,” she bumped her softly with her shoulder, her tone teasing and light, “that was practically witty. I’m impressed. But if you burn my umbrella, I’ll set your favourite robes on fire.”

Turning, she pressed a kiss to her cheek and made sure to press her cold nose against her, smushing their faces close so some of the water got on her. “At least I’m an affectionate wet cat, unlike that demon hell kitty of yours. But you’re quite right, I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable, let’s head home.” She really didn’t want to go home. Behind closed doors, there were no appearances to keep up, and honestly, she couldn’t say this enough, she didn’t want to ruin the day with fighting. “Providing we’ll keep on being civil?” she added, letting herself show some vulnerability here, even though showing your underbelly in this family was never a good idea.

[hhermionejean-deactivated201912]

harry potter challenge: 1/7 characters → andromeda tonks, née black

“andromeda was my favourite cousin. no, andromeda’s not on here either, look. andromeda’s sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but andromeda married a muggle-born, ted tonks, so —”

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regiisbellatrix‌:

The earth could’ve been scorched by the harsh look in her eyes, ground in a spot-fire at the heat which left her tongue, at the look which she’d directed towards her sister. Out of the three, Andromeda held the most likeness to Bellatrix, held the same disregard to the rules and unwillingness to follow the path she was meant to be on. It shouldn’t have bothered Bellatrix so much, should’ve given her pride had it not been for the fact that her path veered too far off, that Andromeda was moving down a path of no return.

Plump lips twisted together, a sour look of distaste prominent and at the forefront of her face.

A sigh left her lips as she’d taken a step closer. Their last conversation hadn’t been the most welcoming of all of them, hadn’t exactly ended in the way she wished. There was something about Andromeda that was a catalyst to the witch, something about the conversation that caused the unspeakable to leave her lips, caused the would-be regret to tumble and create more distance between the two.

The most frustrating part of it all? The same blood which coursed through their veins made Bellatrix hold some sort of soft-spot for the girl, eyes softening at her words.

   “Don’t think this is over. You don’t win because you’re not right.”

She’d let her hook her arm around hers, a soft squeeze the only affection she was willing to show. Her eyes glanced over to her sister- they’d always been seen as similar, confused from each other. What had changed?

    “Fine.” She prevented the roll of her eyes, wand held up higher as she walked down the crowded path towards the closest restaurant that she could find- a place of silence where they’d, yet again, struggle to talk. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

It was like she could see the ice thaw, inch by inch, and with each bit of her sister coming back to her, she could feel her smile growing. Bella could be difficult, and she had her faults in buckets, but she adored the bones of her. No matter how often they fought, she never enjoyed it. It left her twisted up on the inside, made her feel dirty and wrong inside her own skin, and even though it was her who started the silent treatment, she hated doing it. 

She gave her arm a squeeze in return, briefly pushing herself up onto her toes to press a kiss against her cheek. 

“We’ll fight about that another day. It’s absolutely not over. We’re just pressing pause. I promise I’ll let you have your say next time without interrupting you.” 

She let Bella led them, figuring the Leaky was out of the question, happy for now to let her sister led the way, just like when they’d been children. She hadn’t let Bella dictate the way for years now. It was the least she could do. “I wouldn’t dream of it, I swear. But let’s leave that at the door of wherever you’re taking me and let’s catch up instead. Doesn’t that sound better?”

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busy streets || open

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lucius-a-malfoy‌:

She didn’t like him. Lucius knew that about Andromeda. In spite of his best efforts with all of Narcissa’s family, several of its members were always going to dislike him. He could tell the moment her smile shifted that this interaction would likely not be a pleasant one. Typical, he supposed. He would be two for three after this, and surely the third would follow. Perhaps, were he not so wretched at the moment, he might have made a game of how many people in his circle he could piss off before being completely and utterly displaced. But that was exactly the kind of reckless behavior he had banished in himself when he had graduated from Hogwarts. He had worked too bloody hard to secure himself to have it all crashing down because a certain blonde had blindsided him.

“I suppose the solution, then, is to keep a tight grip,” he replied in response to her ridiculous justification to carrying her wand. “But perhaps you’re right.” Still, he didn’t move his from where it shielded her from the droplets. His own appearance, well… at least he had the good sense not to ruin his suit.

As she spoke again, he repressed the urge to wince. Not because she had insulted him—he never really cared what people thought of him personally as long as his status was safe, but because she lacked the good grace to not remind him of his lot. He supposed she couldn’t rightly be blamed, though. And her comment, rude though it was, gave him hope that perhaps one of the Black sisters hadn’t had a hand in making an idiot of him. Bellatrix, he already knew, had had no trouble allowing him to be made a fool. Had Andromeda known about Narcissa’s infidelity, might she have afforded him the courtesy of an owl? And if he had received one, would he have had the audacity to call his trip off? Return immediately? Would the Dark Lord have been understanding? Likely not, though one could never fully tell with their leader. He was unpredictable.

He supposed she would be looking for an answer, and the hypotheticals over which his mind was working were not things to voice aloud. And to respond with the truth—the cool water was reminding him that he still had the capacity to feel after a night of intense drinking and heartbreak he might never have imagined for himself—would be entirely appalling.

“Complimentary as always, Miss Black,” he answered with a small smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She was intuitive, he knew, but he only prayed her ire would keep him safe from her observation. “And yet I believe that, as evidenced by my use of my wand to guard you from the rain, the reason for state of my hair is obvious.”

“Ah yes,” she quipped back, smiling with her teeth, “I forgot that the counter spell to an Accio was to simply... grip harder. I’ll remember that.” He always an answer to everything (albeit, wrong). She may not like him, but he was suited to Cissie given that they both thought they knew everything. 

Making a sassy curtsy, shoulder popping, her voice we bright. “Anytime, Mr. Malfoy. And I’ll be polite enough not to point out that you’re far wetter than mere minutes in this rain could be accountable for.” She was truly toeing the line here, between impertinent and downright abrasive, and truly she wasn’t in mood to push her luck much more than she wanted to. She could feel her stomach give another grumble, upset at her. 

“Join me?” She didn’t like him, but it was about time to play the game a little better, and maybe he could tell her what she’d been missing with her sister(s) -- and that just wasn’t right, finding out second hand, and it hurt somewhere in her chest, that this was her route of finding out and yet... “I was just about to get some lunch, and you’re looking a bit peaky, something warm might be good for you if you want to accompany me?” 

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busy streets || open

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ameliabonesx‌:

Amelia liked walks. She did some of her best thinking on them– her best work, really. And Diagon Alley walks were better than ordinary ones around the Ministry when she needed to be away from her desk. She could get lost in the crowds, become invisible even, and that suited her, especially when she was working on a particularly difficult case. It was why she was even in a rainy Diagon Alley to begin with. Pieces of a case weren’t adding up and she’d spent far too long pouring over files in her office to make heads or tails of it. 

It didn’t matter that it was raining, an easy charm took care of any water getting on her and she could enjoy the steady sound of droplets hitting cobblestone as she walked. Eyes grazed over various shops but none pulled her in or caught her eyes, too focused on the issue at hand and turning over possible outcomes in her head. 

This was just another day for the Bones who, more often than not, was consumed by work. Her position meant that she was already working above and beyond what most people did and the fact that there were those who thought she shouldn’t be there meant the witch had to work thrice as hard at that. Still, despite all of this; lost in thought, rain trickling down around her, people rushing to and fro, all of which Amelia expected and was unbothered by, her attention was pulled by something latching onto her robe. Wand was already in hand and her grip tightened around the familiar piece, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice when she saw who was responsible. 

The witch couldn’t help but scoff slightly, brows pulled together at the other witch putting away a muggle umbrella. “You’re okay,” she reassured, waving away the concern with some amusement: no real harm had done, save her train of thought effectively derailing, “though, I have to agree– it’s not very practical is it?” The umbrella was….cute, some might say, though Amelia could only see it’s lack of practicality and utility in the moment. It was a wonder how muggles didn’t gouge out each other’s eyes with them. 

Blowing out a huff of breath that made the wet hair hanging over her forehead ruffle, she shook her head. “No, not very practical at all. Or rather this alley isn’t. Why is it so narrow?” She eyed the other’s wand before she whisked her umbrella with a wave of her wand and a slight pout as it vanished, her hand coming up to push her hair back off her face. “You don’t need to answer that,” she rolled her hand in the air, “it’s just been a long week and really, that's just the topping on a shit sundae.” 

Laughing at herself, she shook her head. “Not that you need my life story. I’m sorry again.” She could see where the prong had pulled at the material of the other’s robes, a narley clump of fabric that displaced the spell that had been cast and threatened to unravel into a bigger hole. She winced. “I-- ah, I seemed to have ruined your robes.” She was actually quite good at household charms, but she got the feeling that the other witch was a little trigger happy with her wand if the way she’d whipped it out when the umbrella had caught her, so she didn’t particularly want to offer to fix it for her. If she got her wand out right now, she’s pretty sure she’d spook her. 

“The least I could do is get you a replacement, or pay to have them mended.” Never assume robes were just standard, not when you could pay a pretty penny to have the very fibres infused with magic to either keep them clean or, depending on how deep your pockets were and what your line of work was, very mild protection charms embedded in them (not that they were worth the money, all they could protect from would be a low-level Stinging Hex and yet there was still a market for them). 

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passing notes in secrecy || a & s

closed starter for @burningstarsirius

Her sisters didn’t like Sirius (they didn’t even know him, they just knew what ever vitriol their family spat about him) and if they knew she saw him as often as she did, she’d never hear the end of it. And just didn’t want or need that in her life. And maybe turning the other cheek to their... antics was wrong of her, but she wanted to have her cake and eat it too. She wanted to stay close to her sisters but she also wanted a relationship with Sirius, and she wanted to be left to her own devices and be able to like who she liked without any drama surrounding her. 

They had a standing arrangement; once a month they’d meet in the same Muggle coffee shop, at the same time and the same table if they could manage it. If one or the other couldn’t make it, then they’d owl. Otherwise, they found themselves up north, away from London and the people they knew, in a sleek Starbucks in the middle of Manchester city centre, where the people spoke with rounded vowels and seemingly had an obsession with bees. 

She’d arrived first this time and she actually managed to grab their usual table - it was a low-slung coffee table, with two leather squishy chairs pushed in close, and she melted into the chair, coffee on the table, and sighed. Each time she got a different drink, determined to try them all, and today she found herself with Pumpkin Spice Latte, whatever the hell that was. If it was anything like pumpkin juice, she knew she’d like it. 

A book passed the time as she waited for her cousin and the moment he sat down -- she was about to tell the unknown person that that seat was taken before she noticed it was Sirius -- her face lit up in a smile. “You’re late.” She was smiling because the one who was late had to buy the second drink and for the last four months, it had been her. “Everything okay?”

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busy streets || open

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narcissax‌:

“What the bloody hell are you doing with that?” Cissa hissed, considering snatching the thing out of her sister’s hands. She looked around, eyeing the witch Andy had just hooked until she turned the corner. Narcissa wasn’t comfortable with people seeing Andromeda dancing around with the insect speckled umbrella. It was a thing for muggles, and they were the farthest thing from that. “You have a wand for a reason.” She chided.

“Hurry up and cast an Impervius Charm, and let’s go home before you manage to injure any one else with that.” Narcissa had cast on herself the second she’d stepped out of the shop. It was such a habit that she didn’t even think of going without one. It seemed that Andromeda had found an…alternative. Why she bothered with things and people from the muggle world was beyond her, but she was still her sister. She couldn’t completely unleash her distaste upon the brunette and expect to live under the same roof.

“Where did you even get such a thing?” Maybe the last question was pushing, but Narcissa wanted to know if Tonks was still hanging around her sister. He was almost as bad as Molly. Almost. She’d hoped that her sister would lose her interest in the man after a few weeks, but it was beginning to become more clear that his allure was harder to shake. If this supposed tool had come from the man, Narcissa would know she’d have to work harder to break them apart.

“I’m assaulting people,” she replied blandly, finally having untangled herself from the poor unsuspecting witch who flounced off in a flurry of tassels and indignation, “what does it look like I’m doing?” Perhaps sarcasm wasn’t the way forward in this situation, but honestly - you’d think Cissa was older than her with the way she’d spoken like she was dealing with an errant child. 

Rolling her eyes heavenwards, brolly now folded down and hanging from her hand, useless as she got drenched. Their parents really did do a number on her sister; as the youngest, she was used to getting her own way - she’d been a demanding child and her parents had a habit of giving her her own way to keep her silent (she remembered the tantrums, oh did she) and she found herself sighing. “I’m already wet, there’s no point in casting it now.” She mostly didn’t want to out of spite. “And fine,” she sighed, knowing when to pick her battles and now wasn’t that time, “let’s go home.” 

She’d planned to wander the alley for as long as she could before going home, but she supposed it was her own fault for not staying under the radar and this was her punishment. 

“It was a gift,” she could stop the smile even if she wanted to, a soft secret curl of her lips. “Why? Would you like one?” Oh she knew very well the answer to that, but she couldn’t help but to tease. She linked their arms together without even thinking about it, past arguments forgotten in the moment, too busy poking at her sister to think on how it had been an age since they’d last really spoken. “I bet they have ones with cats on them.”