Work Text:
The rest of the few individuals who had attended to the ceremony, more out of respect and affection for the sisters of the deceased than for her herself, had already left. There were only the two of them left; the rubble of the noble and ancestral house Black...
The youngest of them had her blue eyes dull, irritated and tearful, and they were decorated with huge, deep circles under their eyes as they insisted on staying glued to the dark lid of the coffin. A tear escaped, and she hurried to subtly wipe it away with her handkerchief. Her sister, a few years older than her, had not lost her composure. In fact, she had been relentlessly unflappable throughout the entire funeral, appearing to be deep in thought as she stared at the coffin three feet from her feet with a completely serious expression, standing rigidly next to the blonde. Seeing that her sister was stifling a sob, the brunette looked at her with a frown.
"Honestly, I don't understand how you can feel this loss," Andromeda spoke, emotionless. "No one who has even the slightest degree of morality could feel affection for... her. And yet here you are, sister, completely destroyed... I don't understand. I don't understand you.
"You're talking about our sister."
Narcissa was crying but, despite that, her voice sounded firm, and she looked at the brunette with spiteful eyes. A grudge too familiar to cause anything in Andromeda. Cissy had been looking at her that way for years.
"She wasn't my sister," Andromeda cut her off, her tone sharp as Sectumpempra. "Not anymore. The soul that left the body that lies inside was not my sister's," she said looking at the coffin.
"She was our sister, and she's dead," Narcissa hissed, and more tears slipped from her eyes.
"She killed my daughter, and the father of my grandson. She killed our cousin. She deserved to die."
"They murdered her!," the blonde interrupted, helplessly.
"She was murdered a long time ago!," Andromeda refuted, and Narcissa sobbed, looking away. "My sister, our sister, died many, many years ago..."
"She still—"
"No," Andy objected, trying to sound gentle. "She was an extremely dangerous maniac. She was crazy."
"They drove her crazy!," Cissy exclaimed helplessly. "Our family is responsible for her changing. Our damn father drove her crazy. She just wanted someone to tell her that, for once, she was doing it right..."
The blonde woman no longer bothered trying to hold back her tears. Andy gritted her teeth as she felt a lump building in her throat, and her eyes threatened to water.
"Did you really love her?," she asked shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. "After everything she did, you—"
"No," Narcissa responded, and her sister turned to look at her, bewildered. "I didn't love her. All these years... Bella was a torture. But I stayed with her, out of love for the memory I have of her, of what she once was; who once was." As she spoke, Cissy kept her anguished eyes fixed on the dark wooden lid that covered the lifeless body of who was once her sister. She then turned to look Andromeda in the eyes and said: "I still love that memory."
Then Andy felt her heart burn. Not out of anguish, but out of happiness. She allowed her eyes to unburden themselves and, as a genuine smile spread across her face, tears ran down her cheeks.
The two witches did not remember the last time they had physically touched each other, but it had surely been more than a decade ago, so the hug they both gave each other seemed to last an eternity, as if wanting to reward through it all the hugs they had denied each other during all that time.
"I'm sorry about your family, Andy..." Cissy spoke softly, without turning away.
Andromeda held her a little tighter in her arms for a moment, in gratitude.
"You will come to have tea at my home with me and your nephew," Narcissa told her, once they separated.
It hadn't been a suggestion, much less a question. It was a statement that gave rise to no room for objection. However, despite being aware of this, Andromeda chose to accept the invitation personally, causing Narcissa to shed tears of emotion when she said:
"Of course. I don't plan to miss any more opportunities to spend time with my family."