Chapter Text
“Cissy, wait!” Bellatrix hissed as her sister took off down the halls of Hogwarts Castle. It was a blustery day in early December, and they were so close to the North tower that icy winds whipped through cracks in the castle walls. “This is a waste of time.”
“Bella’s right,” Andromeda said, on her sisters’ heels, her long black school cloak swishing behind her as she walked up the stairs. “We have midterm exams next week, and–”
“And the last time to place a couture order for dress robes at La Maison Montcroix is this Tuesday,” Narcissa snapped, whirling around at the top of the staircase. “I will not compromise on good dress robes for my very first Yule Ball.”
Andromeda and Bellatrix exchanged exasperated looks. Since the beginning of the semester, it seemed all Narcissa had spoken about was the Yule Ball. What dress was she going to wear? How was she going to do her makeup? Would her first dance be fast, or slow, traditional, or modern? What would the decorations be? What would the food be? And, of course, who of her many, many suitors would be her escort to Hogwarts’ annual Christmas event. Only fourth years and up could go, and, as Narcissa was now a fourth-year, she was now allowed to attend. As such, she had determined that everything had to be perfect, even to the point of consulting the school’s battiest seer: a sixth year Ravenclaw by the name of Sybil Trelawny.
Narcissa turned away from her sisters with a huff and knocked sharply on the door. It creaked open to reveal a cramped, cluttered broom cupboard with a rickety table in the center circled by four stools. On the table sat a steaming, bitter-smelling teapot and four pink porcelain cups.
Sybil looked up, startled, when the door creaked open. She was in Bellatrix’s year, but Bellatrix had always thought her too ridiculous to speak to, with her bat-like spectacles and her overdramatic way of talking and her tendency to burst into emotional speeches at the drop of a hat.
“The sisters,” Sybil exclaimed breathlessly.
“Hi, Sybil,” Andromeda said.
“I foresaw your coming.”
“Right. Was that before or after Narcissa told you when and where to meet?” Bellatrix asked flatly. Andromeda nudged her, but both Narcissa and Sybil ignored the elder girl’s snark.
“Please, please, sit.” Sybil gestured them all around the table. Narcissa sat to her left, Andromeda to her right. Bellatrix moved to sit across from her, but Sybil shrieked and held out a hand to stop her.
“What?” Bellatrix demanded.
“You do not want to sit with your back to the door. If you do, you will surely have an unlucky May.”
Narcissa turned to her sister with wide, pale eyes. “Here, swap with me, Bella.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Bellatrix said with a roll of her eyes, and she sat down.
Sybil shook her head heavily. She picked up the teapot and began to pour, first for Narcissa.
“So,” Narcissa started, “what I’m hoping you can tell me is what color of dress robe I should get in order to have the most auspicious first Yule Ball.”
“Merlin…” Bellatrix muttered, rolling her eyes as her tea was poured as well.
Silently, Andromeda agreed. She peered over at her cup. It was dreadfully stuffy inside the cupboard, and the tea looked thick and smelled distinctly of grass.
“And you should tell the same to my sisters as well,” Narcissa continued pointedly, “even if they don’t really believe, they still deserve to have a good Yule Ball experience, and all of us need to order our new robes by Tuesday, because they’re coming from France, see, and–”
“Let me foresee,” Sybil closed her eyes, shaking slightly, her voice trembling. “You want to know the color for the dress you will wear.”
“Yes!” Narcissa exclaimed.
Bellatrix leaned in and muttered to Andromeda. “She just told her that.”
“It’s not foresight, it’s backsight,” Andromeda agreed in a whisper.
“Then drink up,” Sybil said frantically. “Only the tea leaves can tell us the truth. Drink. Drink!”
Narcissa drank eagerly, coughing slightly, and when Andromeda put the tea to her lips, she understood why. It was terribly bitter, tasting of dirt more than anything, and no matter how much she drank it didn’t seem to get better.
“Leave your leaves at the bottom,” continued Sybil in an earnest voice, “and I’ll read them to see your future.”
Bellatrix was the first to finish her cup, though Narcissa had been the first one to start. The eldest Black sister set her cup down with a grimace and a challenge in her eyes, sliding it over to Trelawny.
Sybil took it, and immediately, she gasped. “You have a terrible night in your future.”
“What?” Bellatrix snapped.
“You have the broken ring.” When Sybil looked up, her eyes were glassy with tears. “You will lose something important on a day very soon.” Her voice was loud and dramatic, but Bellatrix merely cocked an eyebrow.
“Is it my patience? Because that’s not reading the future, Sybil, that’s just–”
“Here, read mine next,” Andromeda cut in, pushing her cup forward and cutting off her sister with a meaningful look. The sixth-year Seer took it with shaking hands and inhaled in shock when she looked at the leaves. “What is it?”
“Very bad,” Sybil said in a hushed voice. “You too will lose something you cherish.” She held the two cups closer, one up to each eye, her brows furrowed. “Odd, how similar these two are.”
Bellatrix snorted beside her, but Andromeda wasn’t paying attention. Lose something she cherished? She couldn’t allow for that to happen. She’d been juggling a double life since the beginning of the semester, split between her family and friends, and the new Muggle-born Hufflepuff boy for whom she found herself increasingly falling. She’d had too many close calls already– her sisters walking into the room mere seconds after they’d stopped talking, smiling and laughing in a way that was simply unbefitting a girl of her standing and a boy of his. All it would take was one more moment out of her control, and she could lose the respect of her sisters. If they found out about her and Ted, her sisters would surely tell her parents, and she would lose their love, their respect, and all the freedoms they afforded. Bellatrix might not have had much to lose, but Andromeda did.
Narcissa set the cup down daintily, face pinched to hide her disgust at the bitter flavor. She glanced at it, and Andromeda leaned over the table. To her, the teacup appeared to hold only a pile of soggy leaves. Narcissa looked up, turning from Andromeda to Trelawny. “Now mine,” she said softly. She slid the cup over to Sybil. “Hopefully it’ll tell me more than just that I’ll lose something, although I suppose if it does I can just make sure not to wear my most expensive earrings, and–”
When she peered into Narcissa’s teacup, Sybil gave her loudest shriek yet. All three sisters looked up at her in shock, Andromeda’s heart rocketing in her chest. “Dark,” she said in a hushed, trembling voice. “Oh so very dark.”
Narcissa’s brow furrowed. “Yes, but like a dark green? Or like a navy blue? I don’t think I could pull off a burgundy… I could do like a slate gray, if you think–”
“Your fate is the same as theirs,” Sybil exclaimed with dramatic finality.
Narcissa’s brow furrowed. Beside her, Bellatrix scoffed. Andromeda tilted her head. “You mean, she’s going to lose something too?”
Sybil Trelawny nodded, her eyes shining with tears. “Something precious to her.”
For a moment, all three sisters sat in silence. Andromeda studied Narcissa cautiously. She knew Sybil’s words were likely a pile of overdramatic owl droppings, but if they were true, it would be heartbreaking, and deeply unfair. Narcissa was the youngest of them and by far the most innocent. While their parents whispered of war, Narcissa dreamed of dancing. If all three of them were doomed to lose something, what was Narcissa destined to lose?
***
“Well, that was a load of bullocks,” Bellatrix said after they left the crowded cupboard, re-entering the blustery staircase of the North tower.
“Quiet, Bella, she can hear you,” Andromeda hissed.
Bellatrix shrugged. “Good. I’m glad to know one of her senses is working.”
Andromeda rolled her eyes and sighed. She glanced at Narcissa nervously. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling like slate gray is the best choice,” Narcissa said with a stern nod of her head.
“That’s all what you got from that?”
“I got that Sybil is a fraud off her rocker, so at least Cissy got more than me,” Bellatrix said with another shrug.
Andromeda hesitated, her thoughts drifting again to the sign the seer had seen in all three of their teacups. She shook her head. Her sisters were right. Seeing was best used for trivial things, like determining what color dress to wear to the Yule Ball, it was no use stirring herself up into a tizzy over an overdramatic prophecy made by a girl who, more likely than not, was a fraud. Yes. As always, her sisters were right.