Letter:Sirius and Andromeda
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Users involved: Afterthree and ChristyCorr
First letter
Andromeda,
Is it true, what they're saying? You've been seeing a Muggle-born? You KNOW Aunt Druella will want to murder you, right? I mean, Mum sends me weekly Howlers ever since my Sorting—one would've expected her to get over it already, considering it's been three years and all! But you know what they can be like.
Anyway, I'm sending you this by owl, I wouldn't want you to get in any more trouble or anything, but do let me know. I'm off, we're planning something special for your house mates at dinner today—you may want to avoid the pumpkin juice.
Sirius
Second letter
Sirius,
I see Muggle-borns every day; they're everywhere. The Hufflepuff table is full of them at every meal, and their table is right next to ours. I'm not sure how Mum expects me to avoid them all the time, it's just not practical. And you're one to talk, with your little band of half-blood friends. I suppose Potter's ancestry is well and good enough, but if there's one thing Aunt Walburga hates more than a mudblood it's a blood traitor. I think seeing them hardly comes near socializing with them.
I knew Aunt Walburga was sending you Howlers (after all, how could I mistake her trademark screech) but I didn't realize they were still about you being in Gryffindor. I thought they were about whatever nonsense you and Potter had got up to recently. I honestly think sometimes that you sorted yourself into Gryffindor just to get a rise out of your mother.
Andromeda
PS: Thanks for warning me about the pumpkin juice; Cissa is having a dreadful time getting rid of that bright purple moustache on her face, and you know how she can get when she's unhappy about what she sees in the mirror. How did you lot manage that?
Third Letter
Andromeda,
Oh, you know what I meant. I'm asking if you're doing any excessive socialising with any particular Muggle-born (I stopped using the word 'Mudblood', see, because James tends to whack me over the head with the nearest heavy object whenever I do, and have you noticed the size of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration? Not pleasant) wizards, notably a certain Hufflepuff. I keep trying to figure out a way to say this without sounding like a girl, but oh well, I'm actually interested in your love life. For strictly non-girly-girl-ish reasons, obviously, but there you have it.
I'm not a blood traitor! You know I like to wind her up, but really, we all know I will someday get married to a Proper Girl and settle down, even though the thought is downright horrifying. I mean, I wouldn't want to end up like Uncle Alphard and have the entire family whispering about my dallyings as a fifty-year-old bachelor, now would I. Even though I don't see why it's that bad, I mean it's bloody brilliant, the man is hilarious and never fails to crack me up whenever he's allowed to come to family meetings—we always talk a lot, maybe because I'm the only one who actually talks to him. You should try it sometime, it's insanely entertaining, much more so than watching Roddy's awkward courtship of Bella. I swear, those two were made for each other. She'll murder him and serve his body parts at the wedding feast, without a doubt.
Ah, as if she cares about the troublemaking! If I were a Slytherin, she'd be all happy and convinced that my pranks betrayed my deep contempt for this school and Dumbledore and his Mudblood-loving ways. But I'm not, and I'm actually attacking the noble Slytherin house. She makes it sound like I was pissing over grandma's tomb or something.
The Hat asked me if I wanted to be in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, you know. I didn't hesitate.
That was actually a brilliant invention of mine, coupled with some handy suggestions by Remus. He's a half-blood, you know, but actually quite brilliant. I've made some changes to the potion, and I may just test the new version later today. In the spirit of friendship: no ice cream after lunch. Now I'm running late for McGonagall, the woman will be the death of me—
Sirius
Fourth letter
Sirius,
I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about when you say "excessive socialising". If you are referring to having seen me in the library speaking with Theodore Tonks, it is because Professor Slughorn saw fit to pair us in Potions Class for a term-long project. Research is hardly the social event of the season.
And when, precisely, between achieving perfect marks in my NEWTS this year and my duties as Head Girl would I -- if I was so inclined -- find time for a love life? I hardly find time to answer your letters.
Ha! "Proper Girl" indeed. Everyone knows Gryffindors couldn't find a proper girl in a tea party if their lives depended on it. No, my dear cousin, I'm afraid your choice of House has forever destined you to a future of questionable women with questionable pasts and of questionable virtue. It's not really your fault, mind you; it's just a sort of Gryffindor curse hanging over your head. Shame really. All bets in the family were that you'd have your pick of the finest pure-blooded women, with your heir status and the very real potential that you'd be, shall we say, bloody well drop dead gorgeous (once you're a little older, that is).
The Hat very seriously considered putting me in Ravenclaw, but I told it I'd drop it in a box filled with hundreds of moths and a starving charm if it didn't put me in Slytherin. For some reason, that convinced it.
I suppose Uncle Alphard isn't so bad. Every family needs someone like him, someone just a touch disreputable to keep us in gossip. Mother never lets on, but I can tell she loves it when Alphard does something outrageous that she can pick at for hours on end with Aunt Walburga and Cicely Malfoy. A little scandal does them good, and stops them from having to make things up about someone else.
I'm not sure Rodolphus is good for Bella. He's from a decent enough family, I'll grant him that, but there's something decidedly shifty about the way he disappears for days on end and never says what he gets up to or who he's with, and the rest of the time he has the charm of a used-broom salesman. Bella's volatile enough without that kind of influence.
Is Remus the chubby one or the peaky-looking one in your year? It's so confusing keeping all the young half-bloods straight these days, there's so many of them bouncing around the castle like gobstones. (And by the way, some of you first and second years smell like gobstones too -- do eleven and twelve year-olds not bath these days? Are the prefects not sharing the bathroom passwords with the lower classmen as some kind of hazing ritual this year? Honestly, there's this Slytherin in your year -- Snape I think his name is -- that I don't think has ever seen the inside of a shower.)
By the way, as Head Girl I can in no way condone any tampering with the food or drink of any student's meals, and if I were to see it happen it would be my duty to intervene.
Having said that, good show yesterday. There's a fifth year who overindulged, and Madame Pomfrey is still trying to charm away his impressive pink handlebar moustache, but it just keeps growing back. It's getting so long he's having to tie it round the back of his neck to keep from tripping on it when he walks.
Andromeda
Fifth letter
Andy,
Can I call you 'Andy'? It's shorter, less pompous, and it would definitely drive Aunt Druella up a wall. Except that I don't like the sound of that. Ann? Droms? Meda? Droms reminds me of Droobles. Can I call you Droobles? I like Droobles.
I just left Charms, haha, James cast a Cheering Charm on me and regardless of that I find the idea of you and Tonks only studying in the library hilarious, I mean no one actually studies in the library, Droobles, especially lustful seventh-years who keep making gooey eyes at each other. And everyone knows the way he looks at you, like you're some sort of princess. Which of course you are really, and the point is: are you interested?
What was Slughorn thinking anyway, pairing you with him? Uncle Cygnus definitely won't invite him to the Blacks' annual Christmas gala. Ohh, that'll piss him off.
The tension, Andromeda, the tension! It piles up and you need to release it somehow. I'm sure Tonks is all too happy to give you a hand.
I happen to LIKE the idea of questionable girls, especially if they have questionable virtue! What fun would life be if I were destined to marry Properly right out of Hogwarts? ... Are you hitting on me, Andromeda? Because really, I'm a little young, you know, and if by 'finest pure-blooded women' you mean you and your sisters, no offence, but you're the least crazy and the prettiest, so I'd have to give the matter due consideration. But ah, what am I saying, you've already got your Tonks.
That's a funny name, isn't it? Just rolls off your tongue. Like... Tonks. Like the thunk of something heavy hitting you over the head. Like my so-called Gryffindor curse hitting you over the head WHICH IT TOTALLY WILL and no one in the family will care what house I was Sorted into when they realise you've slept with a Mudblood! Ohh, I like that idea. Pleaseplease sleep with him, it'll make my life that much easier.
They always make things up about someone else. They wouldn't be them if they didn't. Don't you remember that one story about Crouch and the drunk goblin? It's been fifteen years, they're still talking about it, and it's not even true!
I was being ironic, Droobles, my dear hypothetical fiancée. Rodolphus is dodgy, but so is Bella, and I truly dislike them both, so in that aspect they're perfect for each other in my book.
Remus is the peaky-looking one. His entire family is really sickly, which I suppose may have something to do with being a half-blood. I don't know. And hey Andromeda I am a third-year thank you very much! I do not smell like Gobstones, except I will later today because Peter and I are having a rematch. He's hopeless and can't stand a chance; I've been playing Gobstones since I was, what, two? You'd think the toujours pur stamped on my forehead would've made him take a hint, but nooo.
I got the password for the prefects' bathroom two days after I arrived here, for your information. I terrorised a Hufflepuff prefect with tales of my family and our awesome gallery of house-elf heads... on second thought, that may have been Tonks. I wonder if he remembers the stories I told him?
And ah, Snape, the plague of my existence. I swear, that creature is so awfully greasy and smelly and Merlin, James hates him and so do I. You may notice that he's usually the main target of our pranks. Speaking of which, no pranks today, all four of us have detention. Something to do with the Dr. Filibuster's we set off during History of Magic. As if Binns noticed! Too bad McGonagall passed by the corridor right then. Also, you did say you'd stop us if you caught us at is—which you won't, ever. Promise.
(And if you do, I can always blackmail you.)
Ohh, I know who that guy is. He's the Slytherin Beater. Rabastan got so pissed that he hexed our Chaser so terribly the man will be incapacitated for at least a month. Ah, the foolishness of Slytherin pride. This means the reserve Chaser will play, you see.
It happens to be James Potter, who can outfly your entire team without using his hands. Haha. We'll totally crush you guys next week, Droobles.
Sirius
Sixth letter
Sirius,
If you call me "Droobles" one more time, I'll hex you so badly your ancestors will have boils.
Lustful gooey eyes? Where do you get this stuff from, honestly?
Am I interested? In a Mudblood? Please. I grant there is a certain amount of... rugged, clean-cut comeliness to Theodore Tonks which I could find some purely aesthetic appeal if I were so inclined, and I might admit to noticing his hands were particularly nice if I was the type of girl who noticed such a thing, but I'm certainly not that type of girl. He's just a silly Muggle boy. Any situation that would have me talking to him would have to be purely educational. Which all of them are.
Be careful what you write down, Sirius. You might be jesting about me sleeping with Mudbloods, but if Narcissa or someone else in this house got your letters first, I could get in serious trouble and you better believe I'd drag you down with me. Such things should not be talked of lightly. Next time, perhaps you should wait a few hours until after the Cheering Charm wears off before you pen me another note, and have all your faculties under your (albeit limited) control.
I was definitely not talking about myself as a candidate for your wife, cousin, for the obvious reason that you would drive me to killing you inside a week (no offense, but you're a little too hyper-active for my tastes), and I think the idea of a Black to Black wedding would make even our family queasy. No, I think Aunt Walburga had the Bulstrodes in mind, or even one of the Rosiers, though their daughters are a little young yet. My mother's mentioned a French branch of the Malfoy family that's looking for eligible suitors. Ha! The thought of you married to a French Malfoy makes me laugh -- how pretentious!. (The thought of you married to anyone makes me laugh, actually.)
Tell Potter he played well on Saturday. Tell anyone else I said that, and I might let slip to McGonagall who I saw painting Firewiskey bottles into Sir Cadogan's portrait; I've heard she's out for blood since he was drunk and singing outside the Transfiguration Corridor all last week. Rumour has it she's had Filtch relocate the painting to the Divination tower where she won't ever have to lay eyes on it again.
Andromeda
PS: If you must, I will answer to Ann. Anything else will have the full wrath of a Slytherin combined with the point-deducting and detention-giving powers of a Head Girl brought down upon you. How would you like it if I took to calling you "Rus"? Sounds like a dog's name.
Seventh letter
Ann,
I'm in the library. Shocking, huh? I'm actually doing research for a Transfiguration project. I sort of wish you and Tonks were here, so I could have some fun mocking you, but ah, it's past curfew, and you're probably out Head Girl-ing (and by that I mean patrolling, giving my friends detention, being biased towards Slytherin and taking points from everyone else etc.).
Ooh! Hey! Would you curse my mother with boils if I called you 'Droobles'? That spell is a pain and I wouldn't like to be on the receiving end, but the hilarity factor will definitely be worth it.
'Ann' is boring. But okay, I'll call you Ann. 'Rus'? Not bad. I like dogs! Remember that one time when I rescued a huge German shepherd and kept him hidden inside the house? Mum nearly killed Kreacher for obeying my orders when she found out. It was hilarious! I never did find out what happened to the dog when I came to Hogwarts. Do you think she Avada Kedavra-ed it?
I'm a teenager! I can spot hormones from the other side of the Great Hall. Plus, Hufflepuffs are talkative.
I didn't actually think you'd be interested. I mean, you do value your life and you'd like your head to remain where it belongs, right? So I'll ignore your suspicious description of Tonks' appearance and trust that you wouldn't do anything improper for a Black. Because we've established you're not that kind of girl. And he's a silly Mudblood with whom loony Slughorn forced you to work.
Oh, your threats of 'dragging me down' don't scare me. Seriously, Andromeda, why would they? I'm almost the black mooncalf of the family as it is! If anything, they'd punish you harder for consorting with a Gryffindor like me at Hogwarts.
Maybe you've forgotten that Mum's maiden name was 'Black'? I wouldn't put it past them. Oh, like I'd ever marry a French Malfoy—like she'd ever let me, too. And Emily Bulstrode creeps me out; have you noticed that her eyes sort of gaze in different directions? Disturbing!
Who do you think of marrying? Aunt Cedrella is pretty fond of Mrs. Rosier. Do you think there's something to it? I've heard Evan has been hanging out with his father's crowd since he graduated—you know, the obnoxious ones with a Salazar complex. What a bunch of dunderheads, seriously. Making that much of a fuss about blood purity is so 1860s.
James said a few rude things about Slytherin when I passed on the compliment, but I bet he's impressed that you even said anything, deep down. He did play rather brilliantly! It was a beautiful massacre.
Oh, you know about that? Poor Sir Cadogan! I visited him today to paint a few more bottles—not that he's not loony enough without them, of course. And, well, let's just say he knows who was the 'cowardly foe' who got him moved. He should be paying McGonagall a visit some time soon.
I'll run up to the Owlery to send you this now.
Sirius
P.S. Thank you, Miss Head Girl, for taking fifteen points from me and sending me to bed (I obviously didn't go; what do you take me for?). FIFTEEN, Andromeda, and the only reason I wasn't in my dorm was that I was sending you this! You could've at least spared me the climb up here and taken the letter I was handing to you (very subtly, if I say so myself), but no, you were patrolling with pompous little Crouch, so you had to treat me like Gryffindor trash. If I weren't so chivalrous and self-sacrificing, you could've caught all four of us, but it was just me. So take that! You didn't even do your bloody job properly!
Merlin, I hate Slytherins. I'm not even going to tell you what I have in store for you lot tomorrow, because you're the first in line.
Eighth letter
Sirius,
You little rotter! Snakes!?! IN MY BOOKBAG!?! That's hardly fair retribution for a measly fifteen points which, had you been caught by a professor, would have been at least double that! I could have Avada Kedavra-ed you with my BARE HANDS if you had been within reach.
What in the bloody hell were you doing in the library of all places that late last night? (I'm astonished to hear you've ever cracked a book open past the table of contents.) And don't give me some tripe about a Transfiguration Project; you're up to something. I can tell these things. I'm Head Girl and your cousin after all -- I can smell a Black scheme brewing a mile away.
Andromeda
P.S. Evan Rosier? I think not. If that addlepated twat had an original thought in his head, I would be shocked. I require a man that has at least the mental capacity of a blueberry scone. Obviously, the pickings are rather slim.
P.P.S. Tell your chubby friend he should stop staring at Narcissa like he does and keep his eyes to himself at dinner, if he knows what's good for him. People here have noticed, and I overheard some of the Slytherins talking about "doing something about it" if you catch my meaning, and I'd hate to see him in the hospital wing unnecessarily. He seems nice enough -- stupid -- but nice.
P.P.P.S. SNAKES?!? You're a horrible human being.
Ninth letter
Andromeda,
Yes. Snakes. You're my cousin, you shouldn't take points from me! I can assure you that when Remus becomes Head Boy, he will give James and me points whenever we have a particularly brilliant idea. I'm glad you were so horrified by my little surprise. Sirius Black is not One To Be Messed With, Andromeda.
Do you truly expect me to share my secrets with you now that you've proven yourself untrustworthy and treacherous? I'm HURT, Andromeda, positively disappointed in you.
I'll talk to Peter. I don't know what he's thinking—Narcissa of all people! Merlin.
Sirius
P.S. You're a Slytherin. You should like snakes, you twit.
P.P.S. Stop being such a girl about it!
Tenth letter
Sirius,
First snakes, and now my eyebrows are GREEN, thanks -- I'm sure -- to something I ate at breakfast this morning. And since I'm the only one afflicted, I have to assume this has something to do with you STILL being sour about a few measly points. It was a week ago, Sirius. Get over it.
Andromeda
Eleventh letter
Sirius,
Thank you ever so much for making all my text-books read backwards. I assure you it wasn't at all annoying, me having an exam to prepare for and all today.
Enough, Sirius. You've made your point. It was fifteen points, not fifty for Merlin's sake, and it's not like it was personal or something.
Andromeda
Twelfth letter
Sirius,
You little fiendish whelp! How DARE you? I don't know how you got a hold of my underclothes, but I KNOW it was you put them on the suit of armour in the Great Hall.
I swear, Sirius, if you don't stop this vengeful little game soon, I'll Crucio you until your evil little brain explodes!
Andromeda
Thirteenth letter
Sirius.
Fine. I admit defeat. You win.
Have five points for eating dinner. Ten points for chewing quietly. Take twenty points for living, another ten for breathing, and an extra five just to round it out at an even fifty.
Can you please un-stick Cadogan's portrait from the underside of my bed and put it back in the Divination tower where it belongs so I can get some sleep now? The daft painting has been singing "Nine Hundred and Ninty-Nine bottles of Butterbeer on the Wall" for the last three days, and every time he gets into the fifties, he forgets where he was and starts over. I just can't take another verse.
Andromeda
Fourteenth letter
Anniekins,
Thank you! Finally! You at last acknowledge my valour, brilliance, awesomeness, etc. etc. I am extremely pleased.
When you return to your dormitory, you will find that Sir Cadogan is conspicuously absent. Consider that a favour—a token of appreciation, if you will—from your dearest cousin.
Pray tell, how are you today? I have to admit I was sort of sad to see the green eyebrows go. They matched your dark green and silver heart.
Sirius
P.S. I know people who know people in the seventh-year Slytherin girls' dorm. It is suprisingly easy to get a hold of your underclothes.
P.P.S. I thought you would endure this with more grace. Honestly, it only took that to break you? How dare you call yourself my cousin?
Fifteenth letter
Andromeda Black—
I found myself with suspiciously green hair this morning after breakfast. Was it your handiwork? If so, it was extremely amateurish and astonishingly immature for an eighteen-year-old.
Honestly, woman.
Sirius
P.S. If it wasn't you, would you mind telling me who did it?
Sixteenth letter
Sirius,
Me? Please, would I lower myself to your level by engaging in such childish games? Silly boy.
It's difficult to have grace, cousin, when you haven't slept in three days and the lower classmen keep eyeing you, wondering if today is the day you're wearing the lacy black bra that was showcased at breakfast. One of the little bastards actually dared to try and peak down my blouse yesterday, and believe me when I say I took great pleasure in assigning him a night's worth of detention scrubbing the lavatories with Filtch. You know, I haven't the faintest idea why that stupid hat didn't put you in Slytherin -- Merlin knows you're bloody well twisted enough.
I hope you noticed that I saw you -- again -- sneaking out of the library after curfew last night and that I refrained -- in good faith -- from docking points from you but instead provided a timely distraction so you could slip by unnoticed. You really need to work on your stealth, Sirius. Or borrow that Invisibility Cloak rumored to belong to Potter. Or at the very least run into someone else so that I don't have to endure the gauntlet of pranks when I'm forced to take points from you again. You could at least pretend to respect the Head Girl badge pinned to my robes, for the sake of appearances.
Andromeda
P.S. If one were looking for a quiet and little-travelled corner of the castle for a bit of quiet studying, where would you suggest? I know you and your little band of Marauders know all the hidden corners and passageways better than Filch, so I thought you might know of a spot or two off the beaten path. Any suggestions? A good one might entice me to reveal the identity of the individual responsible for your shocking hair colour this morning.
Seventeenth letter
Andromeda,
Oh, that's just wrong. Hee! Poor bastard, he doesn't know the dangers of angering a Black. He probably didn't even see it coming. Of course I'm twisted enough; I'm your cousin, aren't I?
Wow, that was actually very nice of you. So it was you who was screaming like a banshee in the fourth-floor corridor? Or were you just torturing an ickle firstie? Remus and I did wonder who it could be. Invisibility Cloak? I have no idea what you're talking about. And I told you, I'm researching something. I can't say much more—Marauder's honour. Sorry! Well, if you want to avoid running into me, don't patrol the way to the dungeons or the fourth floor! Is that so hard? Anyhow, I have nothing against running into you; the idea of a Head Girl who avoids taking points from me for fear of retribution.
There's a cozy little corner behind that big mirror in the fourth-floor—it's well-lit, even, and it leads to a passageway to Hogsmeade. Why would you need that particular piece of information? What are you up to, Andromeda?
I'm waiting for the answer you promised (or else I may just have to, you know, hex the entire Slytherin table; you wouldn't want that, would you?).
Sirius
P.S. Was that Narcissa with Avery in Hogsmeade yesterday? Merlin, do both of you have a death wish?
Eighteenth letter
Sirius,
It wasn't me who screamed. It's a little known fact that Barty Crouch is terrified of mice, so I transfigured the urn by the Arithmancy classroom into one and made it run up his trouser-leg. You would have found it quite entertaining.
If you saw Cissa with Avery, rest assured it was above board. Lucius Malfoy has -- for reasons passing explanation -- taken Avery in as a sort of charity project, and so Avery has the privilege of escorting Cissa to wherever it is Lucius wants to meet her on Hogsmeade weekends. Strictly speaking, Cissa and Lucius aren't supposed to be seeing each other without a chaperon (mother likes Lucius well enough, but doesn't like the idea of her youngest daughter involved in some kind of pre-marital scandal), so if they want any "quality time" together, they have to be quite sneaky about it. Avery's little more than a glorified messenger boy.
As for your suggestion, I'll have to investigate its potential before I agree to exchange the name for it. It wouldn't do to lose my only bargaining chip before I've inspected my goods, would it? You'll get your name, just be patient for a few days while I suss things out.
And as for what I'm up to, I told you. I'm... studying.
Andromeda
Nineteenth letter
Andromeda,
Oh! That's actually a very useful piece of information.
That's actually quite comforting. I'm glad at least Narcissa is in her right mind. This "studying" of yours wouldn't be the same "studying" that Slughorn's required you to do, would it? With a certain Mudblood? If so... Andromeda. Watch out.
Still waiting,
Sirius
Twentieth letter
Sirius,
When I say "studying" rest assured I mean only that. What kind of girl do you take me for? Can't a girl look for a quite spot to get her homework done without having lascivious purposes?
Andromeda
Twenty-first letter
Sirius --
You sneaky little -- I can't believe you were spying on me! You -- you can't tell anyone what you saw! It wasn't what it looked like, it was... I tripped and fell and that's all. And Tonks was just... being gentlemanly by catching me and I don't even know what he was doing there because it had nothing to do with me at all and if you breath a word of this to anyone I'll... do something horrible to you!
Please please please don't tell anyone, Sirius. It's nothing. It's less than nothing.
Andromeda
Twenty-second letter
Andromeda,
Of course I was spying on you. You asked me for a spot to hide—did you truly believe I wouldn't go see what you're up to? I had no reason to believe your claims of innocence. And I was completely right. "Less than nothing"?? Andomeda, you IDIOT, your mother is going to MURDER you and feed you to Quintapeds. You can't date a Mudblood, you just can't. Do you realise what this will do to your reputation?
That being said... do you really like him? Is it worth it? Are you willing to face the backslash?
Sirius
Twenty-third letter
Sirius,
We're most definitely and absolutely not dating. I may have briefly kissed him in a moment of weakness, but I assure you we are not dating. And it will never happen again. Ever.
And my mother will never find out. Right Sirius? RIGHT?!? What she doesn't know won't hurt her, and it's hardly worth mentioning. It's... it's like a little experiment or something. A little turn of madness that took hold of me. And now I've got it out of my system, so obviously it won't happen again. Ever.
As for my reputation, if you don't tell a soul I don't see how my reputation will suffer. Because you wouldn't do that to your favorite cousin, would you? Right? RIGHT?!?
Merlin, Sirius... what's gotten into me?
He's just so kind, and I guess I'm just not used to that sort of thing, I mean I don't have to tell you because it's your family too, and it just... it went to my head, I suppose. We get on so well when we work together, and it slips my mind he's a Mudblood sometimes and I start to wonder... no. It's silly. I'm silly. I'm a Black for Salazar's sake. I am a daughter of a noble house of the purest blood and this is beneath me.
Right?
Oh God, what am I going to do when I see him in class tomorrow?
Andromeda
Twenty-fourth letter
Ann,
Of course I won't tell Aunt Druella. What kind of cousin do you take me for?
Yes. I'm sure it will never happen again.
So, funny story: I was going downstairs to the kitchens last night when I ran into Dorcas Meadowes—you know, that crazy fifth-year Ravenclaw?—and she told me she was supposed to be patrolling with a certain cousin of mine (I don't remember which one, really, I have so many of them), but said cousin had mysteriously disappeared. Meadowes didn't even consider taking points from me, by the way—see, she's nice. And after I left the kitchens, I ran into a somewhat flustered male Hufflepuff whose name I can't quite recall.
I'm guessing the seeing-him-in-class bit went well, yes? Just a guess.
Sirius
P.S. It sounded like you were trying (very badly) to convince yourself (and failing) in that last letter of yours. I always thought you were far too rational to attempt something like this. I teased you because I believed you could have fun with the idea, but you actually seem pretty serious about it. Should I be worried and start wondering on whose side I'll be when push comes to shove?
P.P.S. If all you and Tonks did that day was that insignificant kiss I witnessed, I have to say I'm disappointed. You're a Black, for Merlin's sake—and you've already screwed up; at least take advantage of the situation!
P.P.P.S. Yes. You're silly. And a Black. But then again, you said it yourself: every family needs an Uncle Alphard.
Twenty-fifth letter
Sirius,
I don't know, what kind of cousin are you? Coming from someone who spent the better part of the last two weeks pranking me at every opportunity, I'm not sure you're the one who should be indignant.
You know, I'm sort of falling apart at the seams and losing my mind and here you are, writing little jokes and jabs. I don't want to be Uncle Alphard! Do you think I want everyone whispering about me over tea and tut-tutting about my personal life? Do you honestly think I want to get disowned and blown off the tree because of some boy who, while he might be a very thouroughly talented kisser, is certainly no better than any other boy, is in fact a Mudblood boy which is worse than other boys?
But then he goes and looks at me like he dares to and I just can't help myself. I tried to tell him to leave me alone yesterday, I really tried and it just... he's so damn logical about it, and when he says where I came from doesn't matter I almost believe him every time.
The worst part is I can't help thinking he's right when I'm alone now, like while I'm writing this letter, and I just don't know anymore Sirius. What if Ted's right about everything? I mean, what does it matter, really? How could it matter, when it's just dumb luck that we're born who and where we are? He says it's the choices we make and the things we do that determine what we're worth in the end, not our blood, and even from underneath eighteen years of Black pride I can almost see what he means...
Oh God. I called him Ted up there. Not Mudblood or Muggle-born or even Tonks, but Ted. I'm done for, Sirius. You might as well blast me off the tree yourself.
I... suppose I'll see him again. Ted, I mean. I guess I have to -- we've still got a Potions project to finish. Not that our last two attempts to get some work done have been very... productive. Do you think I'm crazy for being just as scared he won't kiss me again as I am at the thought he will?
Probably.
Andromeda
Twenty-sixth letter
Andromeda,
That was something else. You can always count on me, provided that you don't dock points from my house.
Relax. You won't get burnt off the tree for snogging a Mudblood. You'll be certainly punished, and people will talk a lot, but it won't be anything that drastic. Just... take a deep breath, okay? It's just a crush, and it will pass. You have to try your best to keep Narcissa from finding out—and any of our other relatives, too.
I sort of know what you mean, Ann. I know several decent Muggle-born Gryffindors; our upbringing was just too narrow-minded. It's a strange idea to get used to, but you can learn to deal with it. Just don't let him do this to you: I don't ever want to see you wandering the hallways like you were last night, looking completely dazed and miserable. You hugged me in public—me, Andromeda, the one guy you'd been determined to avoid been seen with.
... Well, I guess I lost that post, didn't I? But he's just a boy, Andromeda. A silly, ridiculous little boy that you seem to like, but he's not worth you losing your mind. Pull yourself together!
I can hardly believe I'm saying this, but... do you want me to help? I can create diversions, explode some Filibuster's here and there, hex half of Slytherin so that no one will know notice you're gone.
Like I said, you can count on me.
Sirius
Twenty-seventh letter
Sirius,
You're right, I'm being incredibly thick about all of this, aren't I? I mean, I probably just need to get this out of my system, right? Sweat it out, like a fever to a flu bug. Probably by the time this potions project is done next week, I'll be over this crush. At least by Christmas break.
Somehow I think, whatever happens, I've made a friend at least in Ted Tonks and it's sort of nice, really. He's very easy to talk to and to be with, and it's nice to be liked for who you are and not for who you're related to. I feel like half my so called friends in Slytherin just want to get close to the Black name and could give a damn about me. I envy you sometimes, Sirius. Sometimes I feel like Gryffindor freed you from something, from all the iron-clad expectations and proper appearances. Being in Gryffindor means you get to be Sirius, not just another Black. Sometimes, I wish I could spend more time just being Andromeda, you know? Figuring out who I want to be instead of trying so hard to be what Mum and Dad expect me to be.
Ted said he understands, but somehow, hearing about his family, I don't think he can really. But he wants to, and he tries to, and maybe that's enough.
Anyway. Thanks for the offer for help, but I think I'll work it out on my own. I think it's important that I figure this out, or it'll just be like this all year. The snogging has to stop anyway; I can't handle sneaking around like that anymore, worried sick that someone is going to jump around the corner and catch me.
Andromeda
Twenty-eighth letter
Sirius --
THANK YOU for your timely distraction. I don't know what I would have done if Rabastan had seen us first. Ted said hardly anyone knew about that passageway behind the Prefects bathroom, but apparently he means hardly anyone in Hufflepuff.
Andromeda
P.S. It was just a relapse, you know. One last kiss before we become just friends. I mean, it only seems fair, us being such excellent kissers and all. It just... seemed a shame to waste all that talent without having a really good last go at it. For old times sake. Like some kind of kissing appreciation or something.
P.P.S. You wouldn't happen to know another passageway that hardly anyone actually knows about, would you? Just in case something happens and I need to... kiss him again.
P.P.P.S. But I won't. It's just... sort of a safety net, you see. Like if I have a backup, then it won't ever happen, but if I don't then it will, right? Right.
P.P.P.P.S. Forget it. Pretend I didn't ask.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Um... would you mind having a "timely distraction" somewhere on the fourth floor later tonight? For reasons absolutely not related to Ted Tonks.
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. But don't distract Ted.
Twenty-ninth letter
Andromeda,
I didn't have a chance to write to you before. I wasn't sure whether I ought to; I had to find an owl that no one in the family would recognise, and I cast every encription spell I could think of on this parchment. Hopefully you found out the password (if not, I suppose I'll have to talk to you once you're back from holidays—if you come back).
I am so, so, SO SORRY. I tried to prevent Rabastan from finding you that day, but I didn't spot Bellatrix until it was too late. How did she get to you anyway? I guess even I underestimated her reaction. The entire school heard her yells—Tonks hasn't left the hospital wing yet, and Dumbledore's tending to him personally. No one has come forward to accuse Bellatrix formally, though; Dumbledore is furious, but he told me he couldn't do anything without conclusive proof. Tonks' memory has been modified, I think, and he can barely speak coherently, let alone make sense.
Rumours have it that Narcissa blabbed to Bella, who came here to see what you were up to. Is that true? What have they done to you? I couldn't find you the entire week—and that blank look on your face as you left to the train—are you all right? Will they let you come back to school?
Please answer if you can, as soon as you can. I'm worried, Andromeda. If you don't reply in a week, I swear I'll find a way to go rescue you.
Sirius
