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Disclaimer : The ideas are mine, the characters belong to JK...

"For a long time, I was scared I'd find out I was like my mother."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 1 - 1959

The eldest son of a man of great fortune is his heir. His younger sons are his legacy. His daughters are his ambassadors. My father had three ambassadors to represent his interests within other wealthy Pureblood families, and he intended to prepare us well for that task.

In the years that preceded Hogwarts, my sisters and I had a thorough education. Our father gave value to tradition, and the young women of the House of Black had a reputation for being accomplished, according to the highest standards in existence, for several generations, ever since the dawn of the 19th century. Bellatrix, Andromeda, and I received instruction in singing, drawing, music, and dancing from the finest wizard masters in Europe, not to mention lessons on the modern languages and preliminary classes to History of Magic, Magic Theory, and Genealogy of the Black family. We were also encouraged to improve our minds through extensive reading.

My father spoiled us, providing for our every wish, but he never loved any of his daughters as he would have loved the son that would carry the family name, a son that was never born. Twice during my childhood, my mother said she was expecting a boy, but none of those infants survived more than a few weeks in her womb if indeed they existed. Today, as I look back to those events I realize they probably didn't. Needless to say, my father was far from understanding in these matters.

I remember the second time well. My mother said, during dinner, we would have a little brother running around the house soon. I smiled, thinking of being to that little boy what Bella was to me, and I asked, naively enough where was he.

"On his way," my mother answered vaguely, and I could see her touching her abdomen, though by that time the gesture meant nothing at all to me.

"Are you certain?" My father asked, in a hopeful tone of voice I seldom had the chance to hear.

"A woman is always sure of such things, Cygnus," was her answer. I was not old enough to understand those words, but they scared me a little. It was the first time I realized that it could be hard to be a woman, and in the years that followed, I would be very glad I had sisters to stand by me through the experience.

My father's happiness, however overwhelmingly contagious, was short-lived, because no longer after that announcement, mother fell ill. Or so I was told. They had to give my sisters and I some explanation as to why our mother had locked herself in her room sobbing painfully and the talks of a new baby in the house suddenly ceased.

Father was so angry. He closed himself inside his office, and Uncle Orion was the only one who dared go after him. "I should never have married a Rosier," my father shouted, and I remember listening to loose words, such as "liar", "sterile", and "weak".

In later years I learnt that something like that had happened before when I was a baby, and although I was too young to remember the first time, I have no reason to believe it was any different. It happened in 1959, I was told, and my father retreated to his office for weeks, even refusing to eat dinner at the family's table. His wrath was only appeased when Aunt Walburga gave birth to a baby boy, several months later.

There was a big celebration at 12 Grimmauld Place, a few days after Sirius' birth, in which his name was magically written with gold in the family's tapestry. There had been a celebration like that for me about three years earlier, as there had been for my sisters before me. It was a family tradition, established when the tapestry was first commissioned, several years earlier.

It is not difficult for me to extrapolate how exhilarated everybody must have been that there was, at last, an heir for the Black's empire. Everybody, that is, except for my mother. It pained her that her husband's sister had been able to give Cygnus something it was her obligation to provide; as little as she cared about the continuation of the Black's lineage. And she didn't bother to hide those emotions from anyone.

Father was quite smitten by Sirius. It was he who suggested the name, inspired by the brightest star in the night sky, in accordance to our family tradition. It was also Father who suggested that the boy's second name should be Orion, for he believed a firstborn should bear the name of his father. In every other respect, he behaved as if Sirius was as much his son as uncle Orion's and to be fair, uncle Orion treated us as if we were his daughters as well… That unity was the strength of our family and I don't think any of us truly understood back then how much of our power and wealth depended on it.

There are many photographs of that day, but one, in particular, is my favourite. My father had summoned my sisters and me to get a closer look at Sirius, wrapped in many green blankets and someone chose that moment to take a picture. Aunt Walburga sits in the middle, holding the baby in her right arm, while her left arm passes around Andromeda's shoulders my sister seated to her left, pushing her niece closer to her body. Andy was four years old then, and she used one of her hands to open up the blankets a little, so she could get a better look at the baby. She's smiling in the picture, and sometimes, the baby grabs one of her fingers in his tiny hands. My father is sitting to Andy's left, watching her curiosity towards the baby with satisfaction. It is one of the few photographs in which he is holding me in his arms, my head laying on his shoulder as I slept. Uncle Orion is sitting on the other side, to his wife's right, whispering something in Bella's ear, my eldest sister sitting on his lap, watching the baby as well. It is such a beautiful portrait of our family.

I don't remember much of my early childhood. I don't suppose anyone does. Perhaps we're not meant to remember the earliest years of our lives. Perhaps if we could remember every detail, somehow the magic of childhood would be lost. All the romantic nostalgia that surrounds the past would be reduced to the same messy pile of debris of our adult lives...

But sometimes I browse through albums of photographs of those days, and I can't help but wish I remembered things more fully. Everything seemed so much simpler then. And we seemed happy.

DISCLAIMER: The ideas are mine, the characters, sadly are not.

"I always felt insecure and in the way, but most of all I felt scared. I guess I always wanted love more than anything else in the world."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 2 - 1960

By 1960, it was understood that I was old enough to accompany the family to an official function. I was three years old then, and no longer stumbling upon my own legs as I walked, already begging for a toy broomstick as a present. Not because I really wanted one – the farthest thing from it, actually, to be honest, the idea of flying frightened me a little – but both my sisters had their own broomsticks and I did not wish to be left behind.

I was the last one to get ready, and the entire family watched as I walked in the fireplace room dressed in my new burgundy dress with a black silk belt and a black bow for my hair.

"Narcissa, fix your bow," mother said, almost as soon as I entered, and I tried, clumsily, to adjust my bow, not quite knowing what was wrong with it.

"Here, Cissa," aunt Walburga said, helping me with it and fixing the bow with a wave of her wand, "Doesn't she look beautiful, Cygnus?"

"Like a princess," my father answered. It made me smile.

"Shall we go, then?" Uncle Orion asked, and in a few moments, we were on our way.

My father had made a significant donation in the name of the family to a new children's wing at St Mungus Hospital, and it was expected that we attended the inauguration. A high platform had been set up and that's where my mother and father stood, next to my two older sisters. Bella and Andy were part of the ceremony, as they would give one present each to two of the children who were hospitalized. It was a symbolic gesture, representing the donations and it followed my father's short but engaging speech as did the wave of applause and approval given by the crowd to his words.

I was considered too young to be on the stand, it was my first official function after all, and I watched from the side, along with my aunt and uncle. My sisters carried two big boxes adorned with large colourful bows and deposited them in front of two of the children in the front row, which again was followed by a round of applause. Secretly I was happy that I was not with them. I had never seen so many people before, and something about the crowd scared me. Before I knew, I was stepping back so that my back was pressed against my uncle's legs and I heard him whisper something I couldn't quite make out in his wife's years before he knelt down and placed one of his arms around me.

"Cissa, is everything okay?" he asked, and I nodded that it was, but he must have seen that I was scared because he didn't stand up. Instead, uncle Orion pulled me closer to him and pointed at the higher platform discreetly, while whispering to my ear: "There, see? That little girl is going to give the flowers to your mother. That symbolizes the people's gratitude to our family."

"It's a present," I said simply.

"Yes, a present. They are saying thanks to us, and your father in particular."

"Why?"

"Well, your father has donated gold that made it possible for the Hospital to build this wing. Now it will be possible for more children to get treatment here, and their care will improve, even if their families can't afford their treatments."

"But won't we run out of gold?" I asked, and I must have sounded concerned because my uncle laughed gently,

"No, princess," he whispered, kissing my face softly, "you don't ever have to worry about that. We're Black."

I watched as my mother waved, thanking the crowd for her flowers and sending the little girl away, thinking about my uncle's words. I was far too young to make sense of any of it, but I was trying to pay attention and remember his words. Mostly because repeating what the grown-ups said to my sisters made me feel quite grown myself.

"See that?" My uncle continued, pointing at my father and Bella, together, disclosing a new oil painting in the wall, and a silver plaque that read 'The Arcturus Wing', "that's a portrait of your great-uncle Arcturus."

"Arcturus," I repeated, looking at the man, and I remember thinking that he looked very young

"He was my father. When I was about your age, he taught me that the House of Black is special, that we are different from the common crowd. Ordinary men do not have to worry about using their gold to build hospital wings but we do have a responsibility to make our world better. It is because of that that the people respect our line and birth."

Father was busy shaking hands with the Hospital director while a photographer of the Daily Prophet took their picture. He did seem very impressive up there, but he was impressive most of the time, at least to me. I looked up at my uncle, still holding on to his right hand and saw him pulling aunt Walburga closer and kissing her lips softly. I squeezed his hand a little tighter and he stroke my hair gently…

Now my father had his hand on Bella's shoulder as they posed for a photograph. She looked very much like him, with her long dark curls and charming smile. Beauty was a hereditary trait in our family. The Blacks were tall, lean, well built, and so obviously noble it was not rare for lesser people to behave lowly in our presence. Even Sirius, who was but a baby at the time, too small even to be brought to that event, had dark, meaningful eyes, and in the years that followed he would prove to be a Black by his appearance if nothing else.

My sisters too had inherited those darkly handsome traits, and I often grieved for looking so much like my mother. I wanted to be beautiful. Although my appearance had something aristocratic as well - no one could deny that - I lacked the long, lustrous, dark hair, the dark eyes, and that casualness of elegance that others found so attractive. The one trait I did share, which was undeniably hereditary, was unfortunately not quite as visible as the others: a proud, dark heart, filled with prohibited emotions and dangerous memories.

"This life is what you make it. No matter what, you're going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you're going to mess it up."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 3 - 1960, autumn

Andromeda was a wayward girl.

As a child, I often wondered how it was possible that Andy should be so very different from Bella and I. After all, the three of us were brought up in the same house, exposed to the same influences, and - to a degree - put on the same path. In the years that came, each of us would stray from that path somehow, but Andromeda was the one to do it first.

At the age of five, she was already a little rebel. She snuck into the kitchen to eat chocolate frogs when no one was watching, stayed awake well after her bedtime and climbed the shelves of the library to reach for books we were not allowed to read. When we were at the dinner table, Andy was always the one to ask the forbidden or the inappropriate questions. It was not unusual for Bella and me to find ourselves laughing in spite of Mother's furious expression. Andy was something else... She was daring and so full of life!

Bella and I knew that Andy liked to leave the house and explore the property, but usually, she returned before any of the adults could notice she was missing. There was a time in the fall of 1961 however when things happened a little differently.

"Orion's on his way. Have you found her yet?" Aunt Walburga asked as soon as she stepped out of the fireplace, holding my father's arm for support.

"No," Mother answered harshly.

"I have looked through the gardens and she's not there," Father added.

"This has happened before, has it not?" Uncle Orion asked, as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace. I noticed he didn't stumble or lose balance as Aunt Walburga had. And although he was looking straight at my father when he spoke, he took a step forward and placed an arm behind his wife's back, supporting her and it was only then that she let go of my father's arm. Aunt Walburga had never been slim, but she looked absolutely large now. Even under her dark robes, I could see the curve of her belly, and she needed her husband's assistance to steady herself after spinning so many times in the fireplace. In fact, even with his assistance she still seemed a little dizzy.

"Yes, but as soon as we realise she's missing we usually find her hiding in the kitchens or somewhere else around the house," Mother explained, pacing nervously.

"And she-" Aunt Walburga started, but she stopped suddenly, holding her abdomen with one hand and taking the other one to her mouth as though she was going to be sick, "I'm sorry. She's definitely not in the house?" Aunt Walburga asked, finally, and she seemed to have regained control, although I could see uncle Orion watching her closely.

"No," my father answered, "Walburga, are you sure you-?".

"I am fine, Cygnus, it is Andromeda that-" she started, but didn't seem able to conclude her line of thought before shaking off her husband's arm, and walking away "oh, excuse me."

"Do you need me to-" Uncle Orion started, but she simply shook her head no and walked as fast as she could towards the loo.

My father was looking at uncle Orion, clearly concerned.

"The Floo network has been making her sick for the past few weeks," my uncle explained, trying to make my father at ease.

"Ah, Walburga," my father sighed, still sounded worried, "she didn't have to come."

"You should be worried about your daughter," my mother said sharply.

"Do you think for a moment that I am not?" Father asked angrily.

Uncle Orion stepped forward and touched my father's arm.

"You have a determined sister, Cygnus. Andromeda is missing. Nothing could have kept Walburga in the house. Your sister will be fine, this has happened before," he said firmly, "Let's just worry about my niece now."

Father nodded.

"Well, she's not in the house," my mother said angrily, "when I catch her, I will-"

"The house-elves haven't seen her," Father interrupted, "we have cast Homenum Revelium charms in every corner of this house. She is not here."

"What about the rest of the property?"

"She's not anywhere close to the house, but the property is far too large to search by foot, and there's only so much I can do with spells from here."

"What if we used broomsticks?"

Father pondered the question for a moment.

"It could be done. I can search the Northside of the property, that's the one that stretches the farthest. Druella can take the East."

"I could search the Westside," Uncle Orion said immediately. "Walburga and I left Sirius with Lucretia, and Ignatius should be getting here soon, he could search the South."

"We can't wait..." Mother protested.

"That's right, we can't wait for him," Aunt Walburga had returned, she looked a little flustered but otherwise unharmed. "I will search the south."

Both my father and uncle looked alarmed.

"Love..." Uncle Orion started.

"Walburga, you can't fly a broomstick in your condition!" My father sounded exasperated.

"My condition?" she sounded angry, "what do you mean, brother? Do you think I am sick, Cygnus?"

Father didn't speak for a second. He could tell he'd said the wrong thing.

"No," he started in a low voice, trying to make amends, "but we are in a difficult situation already. I don't want anything to happen to you either."

"I am perfectly capable of flying a broomstick," she started.

"We know, love," Uncle Orion stepped closer, "but at six months you shouldn't- Besides, someone has to stay behind in case Andromeda returns; not to mention someone has to watch the girls."

"What?" Bellatrix asked, speaking for the first time, running downstairs and giving away our hiding spot at the top of the staircase. "I don't want to stay behind! I want to help!"

I ran after her.

"Me too!"

Right at that moment, green flames appeared out of thin air in the fireplace and Uncle Ignatius stepped right out of them.

"I'm here, how can I help?"

The adults exchanged a quick look as my father started to brief uncle Ignatius on their plan and my mother summoned the broomsticks. Uncle Orion allowed himself to stay behind a few seconds to exchange a few more words with his wife.

"I should be going," aunt Walburga started sadly, "if anything should happen to her..."

"We will find her, love," Orion said, lifting my aunt's chin with his finger and kissing her softly in the lips, "I promise. Don't worry, please. The girls need you to be calm now. And our little one as well."

She nodded, and before they could say anything else Bellatrix tried to run past them, but she clashed against uncle Orion's legs and fell down which gave aunt Walburga enough time to grab her arm.

"Let me go!" Bella yelled, trying to shake off Aunt Walburga's hand. "I don't want to stay behind."

"Bellatrix, you can't go!" Aunt Walburga said firmly, holding my sister's wrist.

"Let. Me. Go!" Bella said again, shaking her arm violently at each word.

"Bella, stop," Uncle Orion said, kneeling down to talk to her, "I know you are worried about Andy, but I promise you we are going to find her. Everything is going to be fine."

"I can fly a broomstick too, I can help!" She insisted.

"I know, darling," uncle Orion continued, "but I need you to stay here to look after your aunt and your little sister for me. Do you think you can do that?"

Bella considered that for a moment and nodded, although she still didn't seem happy about the arrangement.

"Everything is going to be fine, baby girl," Uncle Orion said, and after a soft kiss on Bella's forehead and a meaningful look to my aunt, he left the house quickly to join the search.

Aunt Walburga straightened her back and took a couple of deep breaths, one of her hands still on her belly. Then she walked over to Bellatrix, who had turned her back on us, and hugged my sister from behind, pulling her closer. They stood like that for a minute or two before my aunt looked around looking for me.

"Come, Cissy, let's go into the other room," she said, and lead the way, holding me by the hand while keeping her right arm around Bella's shoulder. When we reached the sitting room, aunt Walburga sat down in a large armchair by the window. She conjured some hot chocolate and a few mugs, but none of us felt like having any.

I sat on the rug, and Bella climbed the window seat and hugged her knees, staring outside as if she hoped she would see Andromeda walking back to the house at any moment.

We waited for a long time. From time to time our aunt reassured us that everything was going to be fine, but other than that, none of us spoke at all. The only thing breaking the silence was the sound of my aunt shifting uncomfortably in her seat, as I watched from the corner of my eyes, and the relentless tick-tack of the wall clock behind us.

Bella kept glancing at the clock. I did that as well, even though I couldn't really tell the time, and I only turned my eyes away from the clock when I heard my aunt trying to stand up from her couch. Twice she tried and failed to pull herself up and then she had to stop for a moment and catch her breath before she finally succeeded in standing up with a hand on her lower back. Wanting to help, I walked towards her chair and stood in front of my aunt, but she must have understood that I wanted to be picked up, because she stroke my hair and said:

"Oh, baby, auntie can't pick you up right now, you're too big for that. Here climb up here," she said, indicating the window seat, and I did. Standing up there I was almost as tall as my aunt. She looked at my face for a moment and smiled at me. Then she hugged me. I loved when she did that. My mother wasn't an affectionate woman at all. I am sure she must have held me in her arms when I was a child, but I don't remember what it felt like. I don't remember it ever happening. Aunt Walburga's hugs, on the other hand, I remember well. I remember how it felt, being in her arms, feeling her pulling me closer to her. I remember trying to be very still and paying attention to the rhythm of her breath because it calmed me. I remember feeling safe...

I miss the scent of her perfume.

That day she kissed the top of my head that night and told me everything was going to be fine. I wrapped my arms around her middle as best as I could, laying my head against her chest.

We stood like that for what seemed like a long time, while my aunt stroke my hair, comforting me before she pulled me away for a moment.

"Cissy? Baby? Your aunt needs to walk around the room for a little while, okay, princess?" She asked, softly.

I just nodded and sat back down watching her as she walked around the room, with one hand on her lower back. I was still watching her when Bella finally moved and got closer to the window glass.

"It's Andy!" she said suddenly and ran out of the room. I jumped from my chair and followed her, to meet Andy in the hall. It took several moments for Aunt Walburga to catch up with us.

"Andromeda! Are you alright?" she asked, walking towards my sister as fast as she could. "I have to send your father a message. Are you hurt?"

Before long the rest of the adults were back. Andromeda couldn't understand what that fuss was all about. She said she'd been playing with her broomstick in the woodlands, and had simply lost track of time… Our father couldn't understand how she could have walked back and not have seen him, or triggered one of his tracking spells. Mother said Andy would be punished; she knew she wasn't supposed to wander off like that. They had to send messages to the rest of the family, to let them known that everything was okay and Father asked the elves to serve the table in the large dining room after Aunt Walburga agreed not to Floo back straight away.

Only Bella looked at Andy with narrow eyes, as if she knew something wasn't quite right.

It took my parents a few years to discover that the reason their spells failed to locate Andy that night was that she had been exploring the Muggle village down the road.

DISCLAIMER: The ideas are mine, the characters and the entire Harry Potter Universe belong to JK...

"Sometimes I think it would be easier to avoid old age, to die young, but then you'd never complete your life, would you? You'd never wholly know you."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 4 - 1961, winter

It's safe to say I had a very sheltered childhood, having almost no contact with the world outside the walls of our house. Our family was very tight, and our upbringing reflected that. My sisters, my cousins and I were brought up as siblings, in many ways, much like my father and Uncle Orion had. It is true I didn't see much of Aunt Lucretia when I was growing up, but it was no exaggeration to say that Aunt Walburga was like a second mother to my sisters and I. I am certain she loved us as the daughters she never had.

In the years to come, I would discover my aunt could be a ferocious woman. She had, like most in our family, very strong opinions about blood purity, and she expressed those opinions more colourfully than anyone I've ever known. She had a very low tolerance for disobedience or for anything that threatened the House of Black. When she became angry it was like there was a fire burning in her eyes.

Thinking back, it's almost odd to realise that she was the same woman who read me bedtime stories and hugged me so tenderly when I was a little girl. Sure, she was impatient, opinionated and a little too loud, but she was also gentle and wise. She was always someone I could talk to; she always had a friendly word to offer, and a shoulder to cry on. A young girl needs an older woman she can look up to and ask for advice. I was lucky to find that in my aunt. She was a strong woman, a powerful witch, and I loved her.

When I was four years old, aunt Walburga came to stay with us for a few days. She did not really want to come. My mother and aunt Walburga were polite to each other, but they were never friends. However, uncle Orion had to travel, for work, for a week, and he did not want to leave aunt Walburga alone. This happened in the first few weeks of 1961. It was a terrible winter, and my aunt was heavily pregnant with Regulus, which was the reason why she had not been coming to the house so often, although, at the time, I didn't understand a thing about it. I remember asking my father why aunt Walburga had not been coming over, but he dismissed my questions. Poor Father! He must have found it quite disconcerting when I kept insisting on the topic. Eventually, he simply told me aunt Walburga couldn't come. It was a "woman thing," he said, and my mother should be the one to tell me about it.

She did not, of course. My mother was never one to talk to me - or to any of my sisters, for that matter - about anything.

I listened to the conversation of the grown-ups from my hiding spot at the top of the stairs when my aunt and uncle arrived.

"I know you did not want to come, love..." uncle Orion started, diplomatically, "but if anything should happen..."

"Orion, there are at least three more weeks before we have to worry about that."

"You can't be sure of that."

"Walburga, be reasonable," my father intervened. He was much less diplomatic than uncle Orion, but that was usually the way he and his sister treated each other. They were very blunt, very open and completely unafraid of speaking their minds without softening their thoughts. And that's how everyone could see that they loved each other. "At your... huh... stage... You should not be left alone! There are many things that could happen and in any of those instances, if you should need any assistance, you should be around people,..."

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, Cygnus, I have a wand. And why do you think you are suddenly an expert?"

"I do have three daughters," he pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Please, stop it, you too," uncle Orion intervened, as he somehow did when his wife and her brother started to get worked up. "Love, I wish I didn't have to travel. You know I do. I hate that I am leaving you alone at this time, I hate that you may need me and I won't be here."

Aunt Walburga was quiet for a moment. She looked down.

"I know,..." she said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper.

"You can't pretent these past few days have not been challenging," he said more quietly, "and that is normal. It is normal that you feel more tired, that you find it harder to do certain things. You are already doing the hardest thing for our child, I could never do what you do. But you should not be alone, you should be around family. Don't you see that it puts my heart at ease to know you will be here? That you will be cared for until I get back? I could hardly go otherwise."

"There is also Sirius to think of. It can't be easy to look after him all by yourself," Father said, and the expression on my aunt's face told him he had hit a nerve.

Sirius was a little more than one year old now, and he had walked off with Andromeda almost as soon as they arrived. He'd recently discovered that the scent of pepper imps made his mum feel sick and he'd been enjoying himself with that knowledge for the past few weeks. Whenever Aunt Walburga was around, Sirius pulled two or three pepper imp bags from his pockets and opened them up all at once. Uncle Alphard had given him several boxes of those Honeydukes treats, and Sirius had hidden them in strategic places around the house so that his parents could not confiscate his stash. He laughed out loud, smoking at his ears and nose while his mum struggled to stand up and run to the loo as fast as she could. Uncle Orion had scolded him for that, but judging from Sirius' smile I don't think it did much good.

Father continued:

"I am nearly always home, and when I am not, Druella will be here. We have plenty of space, and the girls can keep you company. You shall want for nothing."

"Fine," aunt Walburga conceded, "fine, you win. I will stay."

"She will be okay," Uncle Orion intervened, "won't you love?" He kissed his wife softly on the lips, holding both her hands.

"Yes," she half-whispered her answer, placing a hand on her belly. "We'll be fine. I just need to sit down for a while."

"I will accompany you," my mother said. She had just arrived. She waited, while my aunt and uncle said goodbye and then offered her arm to escort her sister-in-law to a different room. I had to wait until Father and uncle Orion had cleared the room before I could go downstairs and follow them.

They were at the library and I stood at the door for a while. Andromeda was sitting in a large armchair, and baby Sirius was with her. There was more than enough space for them to sit next to one another, but Sirius sat on Andy's lap, throwing his tiny arms around her neck and laying his head on her shoulder. He had one leg on each side of her body, and she was really quiet because she didn't want him to leave but she didn't quite know what to do either.

Bella was standing next to aunt Walburga by one of the large windows. My aunt had guided Bella's hand to her belly and my sister was about to open her mouth to say something when our mother walked back into the room, from the door on the far right, bringing a tray with some tea.

"Bellatrix, please," Mother said, harshly, "get off of you aunt and stop bothering her!"

Bella removed her hand quickly and shut her mouth, taking a seat at a different armchair, several steps away from either of the two women.

"It's alright, she wasn`t bothering me, Druella."

Mother lay the tray on a small table and looked back at Bella.

"She and Andromeda are old enough to know not to ask questions about what doesn't concern them. Narcissa is too young, but she is probably upstairs," she looked around again and focused on Bella, and then Andy, "Go on then. Up to your rooms, both of you."

"Druella, leave them be," Walburga said, more seriously, "I want them to stay."

Mother relented.

"Well, if you're sure," she said cautiously. " I will be upstairs, but you ask send of them to call me if you need anything. Is there anything else you need now?"

"No, I think I will just be quiet for a while," aunt Walburga replied.

And on that note, my mother left again.

I was still watching quietly, from my place at the door. Aunt Walburga walked slowly to the armchair by the window. I remember thinking there was something funny about the way she walked, although I couldn't quite say what it was. Sirius could spot it as well. Our eyes met for a moment, and the two of us laughed. Bella was watching too, but she averted her eyes quickly when she realized I was watching. It was almost as though she didn't want anyone to know she had been paying attention; as though she was curious about something forbidden. Every now and again Bella glanced at AuntWalburga, looking away quickly as if she didn't want to be caught staring. I had never seen my sister act like that. She changed when we were around Aunt Walburga during those last few months. She was much quieter than usual, much more withdrawn. Sometimes it was like she was lost in thoughts… Other times it was almost like she was afraid of something.

I didn't understand much of what was going on. I didn't ask my aunt any questions; not because I wasn't curious, but because Bella never asked any so I thought it might be the wrong thing to do. But I watched her a lot less discreetly than my sister did. In fact, that night, I watched my aunt as she sat down, and I remember smiling at how funny she looked and wondering why was she doing everything so slowly and awkwardly.

Aunt Walburga didn't see me, though. When she finally sat down, adjusting the cushions behind her she smiled at Andy, on the closest chair. Sirius looked like he was sleeping on Andy's lap. Looking from the two of them to my aunt I thought I understood why he chose that particular position. Aunt Walburga was so large, there didn't seem to be much of a lap for him to sit on anymore.

When she finally noticed me, my aunt asked me to get closer. I walked towards her and she smiled at me. She kissed my forehead and told me she missed me.

I walked to one of the shelves, picked up a large book and brought it back to when aunt Walburga was. It was a copy of Hogwarts, a History. Aunt Walburga had started reading that to us once we all got tired of the Tales of Beedle the Bard.

It was my intention to ask aunt Walburga to continue to read to us, but she seemed so tired. I sat on the floor, by her feel, opened the book and started flipping the pages. I couldn't read well by myself yet, but I liked looking at the pictures.

I watched my aunt from the corner of my eye. She had been looking outside the window, one hand carelessly placed on her stomach, and she couldn't seem to stop fidgeting on her seat. I watched as she tried to sit up straight without much success until she finally managed to place another pillow on her back. There was a funny expression on her face when she took her hand to her side and rubbed her stomach, making small circles with her hands. I took my own hand to my stomach and did the same thing, but I didn't feel any different.

I flipped the pages of the book, stopping at the chapter about the Great Hall. My eyes observed a large picture depicting the enchanted ceiling of the room for a moment, but my thoughts were not on the book anymore. I was thinking about my aunt's condition, and wondering if she'd been forced to go through that. It did seem truly awful, and I'd noticed she barely even used her wand anymore. Glancing back at her discreetly, I remembered the way my father referred to what was happening to her as a "woman thing." I wondered if all girls were forced to go through that at some point. I couldn't imagine her choosing to do this to herself. I didn't want to stop liking pepper imps or to start eating large amounts of grass flavoured Bertie Bott's beans. Not to mention not being able to use my wand (after waiting so long to finally have one) or even being unable to just walk or sit down properly.

I thought about my father's words again and my stomach felt queasy. Casting another look at Aunt Walburga's distressed figure I hoped, for a moment, that what was happening to her would never happen to me.

DISCLAIMER: The ideas are mine, the characters, sadly are not.

"I am invariably late for appointments - sometimes as much as two hours. I've tried to change my ways but the things that make me late are too strong, and too pleasing."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 5 - 1962, Spring

"Where is your sister?" the professor asked, checking the time, but neither myself nor Bella could offer a response.

We had been waiting for Andromeda for about fifteen minutes already. Bella and I were sitting, side by side, wearing beautiful robes recently made for us at our mother's request, and we each held a small notebook in our laps. It was time for our weekly lesson on Theory of Magic and Andromeda was late…

There is no elementary school for the children of wizards. Many children of inferior birth attend muggle schools in the years that precede Hogwarts, but that was, of course, out of the question for us. For the most part, our education was handled by the family. Aunt Walburga supervised our curriculum herself, and it was she who instructed us on the genealogy of our family. Great-Uncle Caspar, who came from a long line of public men in the Wizardry World, was our teacher in the matters of politics. But there were other teachers. My sisters and I – and, in time, our little cousins, Sirius and Regulus, - had some of the best private tutors in Britain.

Adalbert Waffling himself was our instructor in magical theory, and I still have his notes on my essay about the Fundamental Laws of Magic. In fact, that afternoon, it was he who was waiting with Bellatrix and me for Andromeda's arrival.

"Late again, Andromeda," professor Waffling said, fixing the spectacles over the bridge of his nose when she walked in.

"I'm sorry, professor," she said, taking a seat to my left. Andromeda looked quite dishevelled, her face was flustered as if she'd run to get there and her hair had not been brushed.

"Very well, I believe when we last spoke we were discussing the Fundamental Laws of Magic. Let's start with Bellatrix. We talked about the ethical implications of the first law. Now, did you do your research on the meaning of ethics?"

And almost immediately Bellatrix started repeating the concepts she had memorized without even having to glance at the notes in her notebook. Those were unusual lessons we had. There was, of course, an age gap between us, so, although we usually sat down and listened to the professor's talk on the same topic, we had very different assignments to keep us busy the rest of the week. Bellatrix' assignments had the highest degree of complexity, as she was the elder. This time, she had to understand the ethical implications of the fundamental laws. Andromeda was supposed to write an essay exploring the meaning of the first law. As, for myself, memorizing the fundamental laws and being able to copy them on my parchment was enough to get a smile out of old professor Waffling. I five years old then, and I had been looking forward to that for what seemed like forever. I hated it when my sisters were locked away in the library with their teachers and I had to find ways to amuse myself.

Andy and I listened quietly as Bella and the professor talked about the subject of Ethics. He asked us if we understood the discussion, and I did. I thought I understood, or perhaps I pretended I understood because I did not want him to think I was stupid.

"Now, Andromeda, did you prepare the essay on the interpretations of the first law?" he turned to my middle sister.

Andy was quiet for a moment. Then she gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Well, may I see it?" He asked, reaching out with his hand and expecting her to handle him a piece of parchment or something of the sort.

"I forgot," Andy said, finally.

"You forgot?" He asked incredulously, "Andromeda, this is the third time in three weeks you do not bring your assignment, I'm afraid I shall have to communicate your father about this. Now, Narcissa, did you copy down the laws in your folio? Could you read them aloud for me?"

I started reading them, dutifully, but Andromeda interrupted us.

"Well, I will tell my father on you too!" She said to the teacher, in a daring voice.

"Miss Black, don't interrupt your sister," he said harshly, "you may report whatever you with to your father after we are done."

"I will!" she continued, "like, why don't you teach us, some real things, some useful things?"

"Don't you believe that the fundamental laws of magic are 'useful things'?"

"They're just a bunch of laws that you made up. I bet you don't know anything about… mathematics!"

He chuckled.

"Miss Black, what could you possibly know about mathematics?"

"Well, I happen to know a lot about mathematics, look," she said, proudly, opening up her folio and showing several pages full of small numbers and mysterious symbols, almost as if she'd been hoping the professor would ask that.

"Where did you learn this?" He asked gravely, turning the pages slowly.

"Does it matter? Everybody knows these things. Children as old as Cissy know these things, how come you know nothing about it?"

"Everybody?" He asked quietly, "even well-born young ladies such as yourself?"

"Well, no..." Andy bit her lip. She seemed to be debating something in her own head but she must have decided that it was worth it to say it out loud, because she added: "Because apparently being well-born means we know less than what like muggle kids know."

There was some silence in the room. The professor folded the folio and handed it back to her.

"There are many types of knowledge, miss Black. It is unreasonable to expect every person to know it all. Now, don't you think it is reasonable to assume that the things learnt by non-magical children are not exactly things that would be useful for a young witch?"

Andromeda had no answer to that.

"Narcissa, if you'll continue, please. I believe you were reading the second law."

Our lesson ended rather quickly after that and we all went up to Andromeda's room while professor Waffling talked to our father. In the beginning, I was trying to listen to the conversation downstairs, but that became impossible because Bella wouldn't quit until Andy told her where had she learnt all those things about numbers.

"I am not telling you, Bella, because you'll tell on me!"

"If you have been visiting that-" Bella started, but Andy didn't let her finish.

"Do you want to learn multiplication or not?" Andromeda asked, finally.

The two of them stared at each other for a long while. Then Bella seemed to quit and the two of them opened the folio again, and Andromeda taught Bella what she had leant. I just sat in her rug, brushing the hair of one of her dolls, not at all interested in all of those numbers or in how Andy might have learnt them. Later that day, my parents tried to get Andy to tell them where she had gotten those ideas, but she had concocted a convincing story, and her punishment was not that severe. She was on probation for a long time, and she was forbidden to go out and play with her broomstick, but she didn't seem to mind. If anything, our parents' determination to confine her to the house only strengthened her resolve to find new ways to sneak out and explore.

There would be several times in later years when I would wonder how it was possible that three girls raised in the same house, taught the same values and exposed to the same influences might have turned out so radically different from each other. It took me a long time to understand why.

In spite of our upbringing, our character lies in our own hands. I understand that now.

DISCLAIMER: The ideas are mine, the characters, sadly are not.

"Millions of people live their entire lives without finding themselves. But it is something I must do."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 6 - 1962, Christmas

I love Christmas. It's my favourite time of the year.

When my sisters and I were little, our parents would host a grand Christmas party for all of our relatives every year on Christmas Eve. We had a tall Christmas tree decorated with magic lights, and festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls. Enchanted musical instruments played traditional carols and everybody had a good time. The dinner was spectacular, and it had all my favourite foods. Roast turkey, pork chops, mashed potatoes, boiled vegetables, a thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Every year, the house-elves outdid themselves.

Christmas Eve was the only night in the year – apart from New Year 's Eve – when my sister's and I were allowed to stay up past our bedtime. We anticipated that day for weeks, and when December the 24th finally came, we could barely contain ourselves. We usually had snow – it started around mid-December – and we spent all day outside, going on toboggan rides and fighting with snowballs. We built snowmen sometimes, and Andy was the most creative of the three of us. I remember one time she built a snow hippogriff, complete with a beak and a pair of wings.

The guests started to arrive after dusk.

Uncle Orion and aunt Walburga were always the first to arrive, so they could assist our parents with the final preparations. Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius and I (and Regulus too, when he got old enough) immediately started to make our way through a stack of wizard crackers, and when we got bored we would go upstairs to one of the large windows to watch everyone else as they arrived. Wizards and witches from all over Britain, and sometimes even farther than that, arrived in colourful robes, one after the other. Some apparated close to our front door. Some flew in broomsticks, and a few used elaborate carriages that exuded magic with every sound they made.

We had so many relatives, and each of us had our favourites. Andromeda and Sirius often gravitated towards uncle Alphard. Uncle Alphard didn't look anything like his brother and sister. The three of them had the beautiful dark features of the House of Black, but our father and aunt Walburga carried themselves with elegance and formality, whilst their middle brother could not possibly care less. Every Christmas aunt Walburga got him clothes. A beautiful silk tie one year. A brand new set of dress robes the next. Nevertheless, most of the time uncle Alphard wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt, much to his sister's dismay. He rode a large motorcycle, which my father greatly disapproved of, no matter how many times uncle Alphard insisted that it was a magic motorcycle, because of the enchantments he'd cast upon it. Muggle vehicles can not fly, he pointed out, but it was little consolation to his siblings.

Looking back, it's not difficult to understand why Andy and Sirius liked him so much. He had taken Muggle Studies when he was at Hogwarts, and he claimed to have used much of what he learned at that class during his travels around the world. They loved hearing his adventures. He was older than our father, but he seemed much younger and he also seemed freer. He never married, although it would be many years before I found out why. I think uncle Alphard never had as much pride as he should have, and he felt as trapped by his birth and his name as my sister did. I think he walked the line between doing what he wanted and not offending the family too much for as long as he could. I often wished Andy could have walked that line forever, but I suppose it never lasts.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, never had much use for uncle Alphard's company. She loved to spend time with great-aunt Cassiopeia during those large family gatherings. Cassiopeia Black was an impressive woman. She was grandfather Pollux' younger sister and she was the first witch to be accepted as a member of the Magical Society of Transfiguration. She was also a poet. Her works were considered too far from tradition for most of her life, and it was only a few months after her death that she began to achieve some recognition. I was cynical about the value of her poetry, and for a long time, I believed that the adulation she received after her death was due to her death. It was only when I read her journals (she journaled her entire life) that her poetry became comprehensible to me. I deeply regret having missed the opportunity to get to know her.

My older sister, however, committed no such oversight. She admired Cassiopeia a great deal, and it was not lost on Bella that our great-aunt would probably not have gone as far as she did if she were married. I think Bella wanted to be like her. Bella wanted to accomplish great things, and she felt as trapped by being a woman as Andromeda felt trapped by being a member of the House of Black.

My favourite person was Uncle Ignatius. I looked forward to his arrival every year, because he always brought the most magnificent presents, like beautiful wooden trains that puffed colourful smoke rings and large life-like dolls that sang and danced as if they were human. Even the grown-ups were charmed by his presence. He always told beautiful fantastic stories in theatrical tones and he added sparks, explosions, sounds, and colours at the right moments, which made his stories that much better.

He always saved the most beautiful doll for me. He used to kiss me in my forehead whenever he greeted me, placing his hands on each side of my face.

I suppose I really did want love more than anything else in the world. Does that make me the weakest of us? Shouldn't I know that by now?