Symphony | Andromeda Black

Bellatrix's Invite

When Andromeda's friends went home, despite feeling guilty, she was relieved. There was a complete change in Druella, who stopped being Mother of the Year and departed to the parlour, and Cygnus retreated back into his study.

It was a cold wet day just before they went back to school. Bellatrix had flu and was asleep in bed, and Andromeda was returning a book she had borrowed to her, when there was an impatient tap on the window. Andromeda straightened from Bellatrix's little bookcase and opened the heavy curtains, weak sunlight shining in and droplets of rain running down the glass. A bedraggled barn owl was tapping, and when she opened the latch it darted in, deposited the letter, and darted back out again. The envelope it deposited was intriguingly lumpy. Andromeda assumed the letter was for her, though her only correspondents were Glenda and sometimes Lacrimosa. But she saw that the name on the envelope was Bellatrix Black. The writing was thin and spidery, very elegant and neat, like an adult rather than a schoolgirl. And the wax seal was unusual, stamped with an insignia she didn't recognise, a swirling LV.

Andromeda hesitated, sneaking a look to her sister, but she was still fast asleep. She felt guilty, but her suspicions were niggling at her. The seal would prove go be a problem, but hopefully she could replicate it. She broke it and slid the letter out, the same elegant black hand spilling over parchment. The lumpy thing was a bag of money, just pure gold galleons, no sickles or knuts. Andromeda looked at it in awe. It seemed a fortune.

The letter was short, so she read it quickly.

Dearest Bella,

How pleased I was to hear of your success in the R operation. We may make a worthy Death Eater of you yet, my sweet. Please find enclosed the sum of forty galleons, and be sure to write back regarding your new assignment. I certainly had a very pleasant evening at the Lestrange dinner on Sunday last, and it would be my pleasure to invite you again as my guest to their New Year's party tomorrow night. A rather dull event, I'm sure you'll agree (do remember I know you, Bella!) but you must hold your sharp tongue, for this will serve you well, and remember to wear the emerald gown. I will meet you at half past nine.

Yours faithfully, Lord Voldemort.

Andromeda stared at the letter for a long time. It was only as Bellatrix murmured something in her sleep that she jolted, and hurriedly shoved the letter back in the envelope. In a desperate attempt, she did not leave the letter there, but tossed it into the fireplace. She watched as the parchment curled and blackened, and shivered. He had called her by her nickname. She hated it now when Andromeda or Narcissa called her Bella. He had spoken like he knew her well, indeed almost as if....well, as if Bellatrix was his sweetheart. Andromeda shuddered as she remembered the words my sweet, and remember to wear the emerald gown. Bellatrix had obviously been out with him before. Did their parents know?

Perhaps Cygnus. Andromeda didn't think Druella would allow her to go to adult dinner parties. The number one thing their mother was strict about was that she did not want her daughters to marry young as she did. Andromeda often saw the young girls arrive at the dinner parties, on display like the dolls in the glass case.

She wondered if she should tell somebody, but she didn't know who to tell. Their parents might have known already. Eventually, she told Narcissa, who stared at her with wide eyes. "Bellatrix has been to dinner parties? With him?"

Andromeda bit her nails. "I think so."

"But she's only fifteen! Mother says we'll have to be at least seventeen before she'll consider letting us go with her."

"I know," she said, and took her fingers from her mouth. "Maybe – maybe he'll think she doesn't care anymore if she doesn't turn up tomorrow night. Perhaps he'll forget about her."

It sounded stupid, and Narcissa didn't look reassured. "Perhaps," she echoed doubtfully. "Do you think we should ask her about it, Andy?"

Andromeda chewed her lip. "Not yet," she said at last. "She won't be able to go anywhere when she's back at Hogwarts. Maybe we should take turns sitting with her tomorrow night, just in case she decides to go."

That was the plan they went with. Narcissa sat with Bellatrix for a while, the next evening, then Andromeda, then them together as the clock neared nine.

"Why am I being babysat?" Bellatrix asked crossly.

"We're just worried about you being sick," Narcissa said. "Drink your potion."

Bellatrix made a face but did as she was told, making a face at the cough mixture. "Ugh."

The wind raged outside on the roof, and she asked casually, "Did either of you see a letter for me today?"

Andromeda's stomach squeezed. "No," she said, carrying on with her needlework. "Why?"

"Oh, Annabella said she would write," she said dismissively. "Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," Narcissa's voice was smooth. "Maybe she'll write tomorrow."

Bellatrix cradled her cup in her hands. "I expect she will."

The clock was ticking towards five past. Surely if Bellatrix was planning to go she would have begun getting ready? Andromeda relaxed, and even more so when she saw the hands creep past twenty past, then twenty five past, half past and all the way up to ten. Bellatrix had fallen asleep. It didn't look like he would be meeting anyone tonight.