HP • Legilimency | 𝐍. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

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Narcissa woke them up after a few hours of sleep. She used magic to close and pack up the tents, and the three of them left the camp as quickly as they could, passing Mr. Roberts at the house's door. The man had a strange vacant look and waved goodbye with a vague "Happy Christmas."

Astria looked at him with sympathy; he had just gone through the greatest trauma of his life, but at least he didn't remember anything. They began crossing the moor when Narcissa spoke, "Sometimes, when a person's memory is altered, they can be a bit disoriented for a while... and they had to make him forget a lot of things."

They heard anxious voices as they approached the spot where the Portkey was, and when they arrived, they found numerous witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the Portkey Keeper, all demanding loudly to leave the camp as soon as possible. Narcissa had an argument with Basil, they joined the line, and they managed to take an old cup back to the grounds of Black Manor before the sun actually rose. They walked back from there and would use the Floo Network to return to Tonks' residence, in the early morning light, speaking very little because they were too exhausted and eager for the breakfast they would have.

As they turned onto the road to home and saw the gardens, a shout rang out. "Merlin! Merlin! Are you all right?"

Andromeda, who had evidently been waiting in front of the house, came running toward them, still in her dressing gown, her face pale and tense, a crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet in her limp hand.

"Cissy... I was so worried... so worried... That scoundrel Lucius, it was him, wasn't it?!"

She threw herself into a tight hug, and the Daily Prophet fell from her limp hand to the ground.

Lowering her eyes, Astria read the headline: "SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP," complete with a black-and-white photo of the Dark Mark gleaming over the treetops.

"We don't have proof, Andy," Narcissa sighed, giving a sidelong glance at Draco, who was now looking at his own feet, kicking pebbles on the lawn.

"Oh... all right. Come on, let's eat something." Andromeda smiled at Astria before pulling her into a big hug. "Salazar's Snakes, look at you, you look so lovely!"

"Thank you, Andy," Astria smiled with flushed cheeks.

When they were all crowded into the small kitchen, Astria handed the newspaper to Narcissa, who immediately squinted to read it.

"You should be wearing your glasses," Astria scolded, going to get another slice of chocolate cake that Andromeda was pushing her way; since the orphanage incident years ago, the woman was not happy until she saw Astria stuffed and visibly satisfied.

Narcissa rolled her eyes at her and reluctantly took the silver glasses, placing them on the bridge of her nose. She examined the front page while Draco peeked over her shoulder.

"I knew it," she said exasperated. "Ministry messes up, and those responsible go free due to ineffective security. Dark wizards run rampant, it's a national disgrace."

"Who wrote this?" Draco asked, confused.

"It could only be Rita Skeeter."

"Ugh, she was insufferable, damn gossipmonger," Andromeda exclaimed, sitting in the armchair and pulling Astria onto her lap. "I saw that headline about the summer ball, Cissy. McMillan, huh?" She teased with a shit-eating grin.

"Spare me, Andromeda," Narcissa rolled her eyes.

Andy shrugged and turned her attention back to Astria. "I heard you've been learning to play the violin, dear. How's it going? I'm sure you'll be charming all the witches and wizards at Hogwarts in no time."