“Or you’ll have to find a man. Two birds, one stone.” There was no shortage of them in the church seeking asylum from the elements. Besides, better a guinea pig than Andromeda, who wasn’t sure she could pretend to be mean. Not to Nari. She was too good at being mean; Druella had taught her well. Maybe the best of all the Blacks. Trixy was cruel and Narcissa was manipulative, but Andromeda was all teeth when she wanted to be. Usually when she didn’t, too. Like a dog that bit back too hard at tug of war, following its nature and forgetting it was only a game.
Andromeda perked up with an idea that solved both problems. Evoking the majestic meercat, she eyed the pews for any hints of handsome men. No effort was made to conceal the fact that this was what she was doing. She even went to far as to rise to her knees on the pew and peer around a nearby woman’s hat.
Her reasoning was thus: they were stuck in here for the foreseeable future so the boys had no where to run or hide; frightened men were statistically more likely to fall in love, confusing the rush of adrenaline from the situation for rush of adrenaline towards a person; they’d probably never see these people again, half of them being cracked out Muggles who wanted to worship them for their wands; it would be fun and she was very bored indeed
She pointed to the corner. “What about that one? He looks like he’d fuck in a confessional.” But would Nari? Andromeda had doubts. “No, maybe not him actually. What’s your type, Greengrass?” It seemed silly she didn’t know, but somehow in all their conversations it either hadn’t come up or Andromeda hadn’t been paying attention when it did.
“You can’t honestly be serious, can you? I mean, I’m not about to find the man of my dreams during an event like this.” Though, to be fair, people found their significant others during all random courses of one’s life. It wouldn’t actively be ridiculous. Just a little in sane, in her professional opinion. Mostly, Nari didn’t want to face the facts that some people were meant to end up alone, only it wasn’t actually alone. She’d always have her friends. Just never her person.
Andromeda’s question, however, took her completely by surprise, leaving a stunned face in its wake. “Oh. My type? Well, I suppose they’d have to be fit, and intelligent. Also kind. Like, the sort of person you know will always help little old ladies cross the street. Not to mention strong. And good fashion sense. I have none, so I’d need someone to help me pick things out when you’re away and unable to assist.”
