Andromeda was sitting in a tree. She wasn’t, of course, allowed to be in a tree, but the fact that she wasn’t made it seem much cooler to the little seed of rebellion Letty Branstone had planted in the back of her mind. And it also made the stick poking into her thigh much easier to ignore.
A vision in white appeared below her. Narcissa was wearing a large and rather ridiculous white sunhat, which absolutely baffled Andromeda. This was probably only the second time Narcissa had set foot outside all summer and she more then likely would not be staying out long enough
to get tanned, let alone burnt.
“Andromeda?” Narcissa said slowly. “Why are you in a tree?”
“It’s cool because I’m in shade. I don’t want to get more burnt then I already am,” Andromeda explained.
Normally, she was smothered in Brink’s Anti-Burn before she stepped foot outside, but Druella had forgotten the previous day and now Andromeda looked like an overly-ripe tomato.
Narcissa looked at Andromeda’s feet; they were bare and rather dirty. Andromeda could see the disapproval shining in her eyes. “Right... Mother’s looking for you. She’s in the sitting room.”
“Okay,” Andromeda said with a sigh.
She waited until Narcissa had gone back inside before she hopped down and made her way into the house. Before she entered the sitting room she quickly pushed the sticky hair tendrils off her face and hopped into a pair of clogs to hide her dirty feet.
The sitting room was freezing. Druella sat in her everyday robes (the children had taken to shorts and t-shirts) with her wand in one hand and a copy of the Daily Prophet in the other. Cold air was shooting from her wand tip. Andromeda threw herself into the chair across from her so that he cold air shot straight at her.
“You wanted to see me, Mother?” she asked lazily.
“Yes,” Druella said, as brisk and stiff as usual. “Sit up properly, Andromeda. I don’t know what they’re teaching you in Ravenclaw house, but in my house we know how to sit civilly.”
Andromeda bit hard on the inside of her cheek and sat up straight.
“That’s better, dear,” Druella said. “Now, Walburga and Orion have fired their governess.”
Andromeda looked at her blankly. “Why did they do that?”
“The silly girl was caught stealing. She was, of course, turned out instantly,” Druella sniffed.
“Are they getting a new one?” Andromeda asked. She wished her mother would hurry up about it and tell her what all this had to do with her.
“They’ve advertised,” Druella said slowly, as if advertizing was the most ridiculous way to find a governess. “Orion and Walburga are going out for the day, and since they have no governess they need someone to watch the children.” She looked pointedly at Andromeda.
“Why don’t you ask Bella? She’s older,” Andromeda pointed out.
Druella gave her a severe look. “I’d like to think that I have more sense then to leave Bellatrix alone with two young children.”
“Alright,” Andromeda sighed.
Although she had nothing special planned for tomorrow, she wasn’t eager to babysit her cousins. Even though Regulus was easy to handle, she knew from experience Sirius Black was quite a handful.
Grimmauld Place was large and rather confusing. Andromeda, in search of her cousins, walked down a dark hallway, intent on going upstairs.
“Ow!” She sucked in her breath as her foot collided with something solid and she tumbled to the floor.
She had walked right into an umbrella stand that she supposed was made out of a troll’s leg.
While she picked herself up off the floor, she wondered idly who would go through all the trouble of killing a troll, only to sell its limbs as bits of furniture. And, who in their right mind would want to showcase their umbrellas in something as ugly as a hollowed troll’s leg? Aunt
Walburga, obviously.
“Regulus?” she called, advancing up the stairs. “Sirius?”
Something popped out at her from behind a large vase. Andromeda’s heart leapt up her throat and she gripped the stair rail to keep her from falling over.
“‘Dromeda?” the thing muttered, looking at its feet.
It was then that she realized it was Regulus. He had an elephant trunk sprouting out from where his nose should have been, feathers covering his head, spikes coming out of his cheeks and ears five times bigger then normal.
Andromeda fell into peals of laughter, now clutching the rail for suppose. Regulus’ eyes began to water.
“Uh-um, Regulus,” Andromeda managed, trying to suppress her laughter. “Don’t cry. It’s- S’nothing, really.” She averted her eye to the stall her giggling. “I, um, came across a Cheering Charm on the way here. Still a bit giddy.”
Regulus did not seem comforted. Perhaps it was because Andromeda had caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and was choking with laughter.
“Hem-ah, what happened?”
“Sirius,” Regulus mumbled.
Ah, yes. That would explain it.
As if on cue, Sirius appeared next to her, the picture of innocence. He was even whistling.
“Sirius,” Andromeda focused on Sirius, who did not look like a cross between a little boy, an elephant, a blowfish and a blue jay and therefore quelled her laughter, “what did you do to Regulus?”
Sirius almost masked the silly grin on his face. Almost. “I didn’t do anything, Andromeda!”
“Snitch!” she heard him hiss at his brother.
Andromeda set her brain to work. Her aunt and uncle would not go anywhere without their wands, and hers was safely in her pocket, so he couldn’t have gotten hold of a wand. He had probably gotten into the Potions cabinet.
She took both boys by the hand and, still giggling slightly, led them down to the cellar.
Sure enough, there was a stack of milk crates leading up to the Potions cabinet. Sirius had climbed up them and managed to reach a few bottles.
She sighed. “I’m hopeless at Potions.”
Sirius’ grin grew even wider.
“Regulus,” she said, trying her best to be solemn, “I can’t put you right. If I tried it would probably only get worse.”
Regulus’ eyes began to water again.
“SO what would you like to do now?” she asked in attempt to cheer him up. “We can have a licorice wand sandwich or-”
“Hide and seek?” Regulus suggested, wiping his eyes.
“Oh-okay. We’ll play hide and seek,” Andromeda said with a warm smile.
She had always been quite good at hide and seek, small enough to fit almost anywhere.
Andromeda turned her back to the two boys and loudly said, “ONE!”
They were both gone before she could even get to two.
Andromeda had never realized how many small places to tuck away inside there were in Grimmauld Place. She had been searching for about ten minutes (which is a rather long time when you’re pressed between a wall and a bookshelf) and had not found either Regulus or Sirius.
Creeeeeeeeek!
It seemed as if nobody had been to the attic in sometime. Kreacher probably didn’t even clean up there. But there were many possible hiding spots so Andromeda had lit a candle and went up.
Quietly she pulled open the heavy, floor-length curtains. No giggling little boys behind there, but at least she could see without the candle now.
There weren’t any giggling little boys in the purple trunk, the old wardrobe or behind the old birdcage either. There was only one more place left to look.
An old velvet sheet had been thrown over something and pushed away into a corner. It didn’t seem to be shaped like a little boy, but she decided to check anyway.
She pulled off the sheet and gasped, then checked herself when she realized it was only an old picture.
“Oh, s’only a portrait,” she muttered to herself.
The young man in the portrait was sleeping, his head leaning back on the chair he was sitting in. His hair was slicked back and was a startling tomato red; he had one long, thin eyebrow and his nose, she was surprised to find, looked a lot like hers.
“Hullo. What’s this?”
Andromeda jumped as a scratchy voice sounded through the attic. She looked down to find the man in the portrait had woken up.
“Who are you, young lady?” the picture asked, his eyebrow moving expressively when he talked.
“I’m Andromeda,” and then, just to be clear on who she belonged to, “Andromeda Black.”
“Why, hello, Andromeda,” the man said.
“Who’re you?” she asked.
She had never seen him before, but since there was a picture of him at her aunt and uncle’s, maybe she had heard of him.
“Oh, forgive my manners. The name’s Phineas Black,” the young man said with a grin.
She thought for a minute. “I have a great-great-grandfather Phineas.”
“Phineas Nigellus? He was my grandfather,” Phineas said slowly.
“Well... That makes you my great-uncle, right?” Andromeda replied, calculating in her head.
“Indeed it does,” Phineas said softly.
She didn’t think it very polite to point out she had never heard of a great-uncle Phineas before, so she didn’t mention it.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Uncle Phineas, why did Aunt Walburga put your up here? Did your frame clash with the wallpaper?”
Phineas chuckled. “No, I’m afraid not.”
She waited to see if she would get an explanation.
“Tell me, Andromeda. How old are you?” he asked eventually.
“Twelve,” she replied, sitting on the floor so she was eye to eye with him.
“So you’ve started Hogwarts?”
Andromeda nodded. “I’ll be in second year next month. I’m a Ravenclaw.”
“Ahh,” Phineas said, before smiling. “I was taken down because I believed in something my family didn’t quite approve of.”
“Were you friends with a Muggle?” she asked quietly, thinking about Anna and Theodore Sparrows.
He looked incredibly sad, his eyebrow not moving at all. “Something like that.”
Before she could respond, Sirius’ voice carried up to her. “Aaandrooomeddda! I’m tired of hiding. Can you make me a sandwich?”
She would have really liked to keep talking to Phineas. “I have to go,” she said apologetically.
“Goodbye, Andromeda,” Phineas said.
She smiled at him before leaving to attend to Sirius.
The next time Andromeda was at Grimmauld Place she went up to the attic. The velvet cloth was there but the picture of Phineas Black was not.