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Before this: Narcissa visits late at night soon after the war. She and Andy have a short exchange of grief before Andy discloses that she has company over, otherwise she’d invite Narcissa in for a drink. They split and Harry confronts Andy over her bittersweet tone over Bellatrix’s death.
“She killed your daughter, orphaned her son, I don’t understand how you could feel anything other than hatred for her at this point, sister or not.” Andromeda only sighed, the glint of her glass catching in her eye as she turned her gaze to the hearth.
“Harry, what would you do for the ones you loved? We all know you’d die for them, walk willingly to face your enemy, unarmed in the name of giving those you cared for the chance to draw one more breath than previous circumstances would have allowed. What other actions would you be willing to take? What else would you sacrifice without thought or hesitation?” Hazel met green as the only thought, the only response he could ever truly give consumed his mind. Anything.
“Would you completely éclipse Ron, in all ways, in all things, even more so than you’ve done before? Soaking up every centimeter of the blazing limelight until he was left in total darkness where only animosity and jealousy could grow? Knowing he could only despise you even as it allows him to free himself of your shadow and find the warm glow that accompanies obscurity?
Would you enter loveless and ultimately personally ruinous union, one that would certainly lead you to circles rife with darkness and cruelty, if it meant Hermione could maintain the freedoms to pursue her passions, open her to experiences and opportunities that would otherwise be closed to her, the liberty to pursue her ambitions, her dreams, her desires even as the key to the cage of her birthright locks you into a prison of your own?
Would you throw yourself at the feet of those who would seek to destroy you? To tear apart your very visage of self, torture you until you need pain in the way you need the very air you breath, scorching your soul until all that remains is the echo of what once was and what they’ve made you to be, in the name of securing Teddy’s future? The future of his happiness, of his family, of the love that would flourish in these very halls as yours is poisoned and strangled by weeds? Actively seek out the sadistic pleasures, absorb every drop of twisted abuse so not a single hair on his head would be touched by the worst of the darkness this world has to offer?
It is easy to die for those we love. Do you think you are capable of burning for them? Capable of coming out the other side the same person you were when you entered?” Andromeda looked away suddenly, bowing her head, a pained expression enveloping her face.
“Before we were Malfoys, Tonks’, or Lestranges, we were the Black sisters. Born into a Great family, with a detached and volatile mother, an ambitious and wretched father. Three girls in a time when male heirs were still necessary. I think of the three of us, though it is difficult to understand who she became, you will find she is the easiest to understand why and how. She was the one to ensure she solely paid the sins of our birth, the cost of bearing our name.
She soaked up the attention of our patriarch, of our enemies, of our suitors. She sacrificed every personal ambition and desire both named and unnamed at the altar, trading hogwarts robes for marital ware before sitting her Newts so that neither of us would be forced to wed men 3 times our senior who are equally disinterested in the flights of teenage girls as we are for middle aged men beyond the assurances such consolidations bring. I watched as she bowed to a monster who could only take, treated like a gifted lamb for the slaughter. Watched as my Intelligent, vivacious, darling eldest sister wasted away in the care of a beast welcomed and celebrated in my home. Watched as a girl who loved so fiercely ceased to tell when she wasn’t loved at all, sharpness turned to cruelty, brilliance to madness, I watched until I couldn’t watch a second more, couldn’t even afford her the mercy of allowing myself the understanding the only reason I could turn away was because she had so completely turned towards.
Before Bella was ever his, she was ours. I Hate her for the monster she became, I love her because the reasons why my daughter died at her hand are the very reasons she lived to begin with. The highest held tenet of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black [i have to research my fix’s to find the schpiel on the black family but it’s something about protecting the family/family above all else because I like that wayyyy more]. Bella embodied it, annihilated herself upholding it, and the sick woman forged to replace a promising young girl died betraying it. It is hard to articulate all there is to feel, but I hope this aids in understanding. Or maybe this is nothing more than nostalgic midnight ramblings on what was and could have been of an elder, and I’ll wake once more with the hatred we’ve both felt. Either way, I do find it fitting that you now carry the Mantle of black, and I am glad she is finally at rest, both in a desire in vengeance and lack of grieving for one living yet long dead.”