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Good luck with everything tomorrow <3
With his head spinning and a little bit of double vision going on, Haymitch knew that he wasn't much help. Katniss was painfully stubborn, and more than likely already had her mind made up about how the games were going to be played. It was sad to know that she had already accepted her fate, that she thought she was going to die, and that Snow was betting on it. He had been with her and Peeta through their tour, saw the unrest throughout the other districts and anyone with half a brain was able to see that something had been sparked across Panem, and Katniss was inevitable fire. Maybe he was wrong about Snow, maybe he would have been more inclined to agree with Katniss had he not been so drunk, but that was neither here nor there. He was determined to save her, and anyone else he could, for that matter.
“You don't get to decide when I've had enough, sweetheart,” Haymitch snapped, displeased to find that he no longer had the bottle grasped between his increasingly cold fingers. The older man knew very well that his alcoholism couldn't continue on if he was going to volunteer in Peeta's place. There was no place for weakness and disease in the arena, and Haymitch would be of no use to anyone if he was dead before the countdown even ended. Regardless, drunk Haymitch didn't appreciate being treated like a child by some angry, teenage girl.
He frowned as he watched her down the rest of his drink. There were more full bottles back at his house, tucked away in cabinets, sitting out in the open on the coffee table, and a handful scattered around his bedroom. The alcohol was no loss to him, but he didn't want to see Katniss go the same route, especially when she had so much to do and so much to live for. As for himself, there hadn't been much keeping him around, not until she and Peeta had come along. He hadn't wanted to care for either of them, and his new sense of responsibility was starting to wear on his paper-thin nerves.
A wry smirk crossed his face as Katniss sputtered and coughed. Haymitch was openly happy that she hated the drink. “That's what you get,” he chided. The situation softened immediately as Katniss placed her hand on his arm and he found the smirk slipping away from his face. He didn't try and argue as she helped him to his feet, and Haymitch leaned against her in his inebriated, unsteady state. He had never noticed how strong and solid Katniss was until she walked him home. As frail-looking as she was, she easily kept her balance under his weight.
Each step was heavy as Haymitch trudged up the stairs with Katniss. The cold combined with the alcohol he had been drinking for the better part of the day was finally caught up with him, and the former Victor felt woozy as he laid down on the battered couch near the window. His eyes followed her form as she poked around his living space, and for some reason, held back any criticism that was surely on the tip of her tongue. Haymitch couldn't say that he didn't appreciate it, he wasn't up for an argument at the moment. Shifting around, he made himself comfortable, head resting on the arm of the couch and arms folded around himself.
“You eat something,” he mumbled to her back, eyes already closed. Sometime later, a knock at the door would disturb him from his sleep, but Haymitch wouldn't budge from his place on the sofa.
Back at home, Prim was busy with being busy, trying to stop her head from hurting and her heart from aching. The thought of losing Gale to the games was fleeting, and anemic in comparison to the loss she already felt for Katniss. It wasn't fair that she was being taken away again when she had only just returned and Primrose had been allowed a taste of the new normalcy that winning and stability brought. How could the Capitol take that away? What gave them that right?
From the kitchen, Prim heard the exchange between Peeta and Katniss, and gathered that Haymitch had agreed to take his place in the upcoming games. The young blonde wished to intervene on her sister's behalf and explain that Katniss was only slightly overbearing because she cared, because she didn't want to see more innocent people die, but Peeta had left in a huff before she could force herself to move. Heavy guilt sat in her stomach, and Prim had always been timid, but she was suddenly ashamed of her inaction all over again. Volunteering crossed her mind just then, a way to repay Katniss for what she had done the year before, but she knew better than to do that. There was mother to take care of, residents of the Seam to help heal and Prim knew exactly where she was needed. She could already picture the look Katniss would give her if she even mentioned such a thing; probably similar to the look she had given Gale a short time ago.
Prim offered Katniss a sympathetic smile as the dark-haired girl joined she and Gale in the kitchen. “You just need to give him some time,” Prim added to Gale's impromptu pep-talk, although Katniss seemed less than optimistic. In a way, she was glad that Gale was choosing to leave for the night, Prim didn't want to be around him and couldn't figure out if she was more angry with him or herself. Wanting to volunteer was the noble thing to do, but a selfish part of Prim wanted him to stay, to have another chance to spend long afternoons with him, to pick berries and clean squirrels for supper at the end of a long day, and be close. Sometimes, Prim really made herself ill.
As Katniss made tea, Prim passed by her from behind and gave her shoulder a kiss, letting her know that she would be back and ready talk to talk once she saw Gale off. She didn't know what he wanted to say, but she owed him a moment to be heard. In the foyer, Prim crossed her arms and listened to the explanation that Gale was giving. Emotions were running high, and Prim knew that she should have accepted his apology and taken his word for it—that he hadn't done anything in order to hurt her. Instead, she remained silent, her sad, blue eyes a direct betrayal of the blank look on her face. “Goodnight, Gale,” was all she said before closing the door behind him.
Once again, the house was quiet and Prim locked up for the night, turning off all of the lights before finding Katniss in her bedroom. She was exhausted and sat down with her sister on the bed, sinking into the soft, fluffy mattress. She was at a loss for where to start, but the feeling of Katniss's arms around her, and the weakness of her normally strong voice caused the blonde's lower lip to quiver. She swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting to be the rock for a change when Katniss was so vulnerable. “You will,” she whispered, hugging the other girl tightly. “You belong here and,” she took a deep breath, “nothing is going to keep you away for long.”
That night, Prim fell asleep with Katniss, sharing the bed the way they had when they were small. It felt nice to be close again, and Prim would savor every moment while she could.
“You don't get to decide when I've had enough, sweetheart,” Haymitch snapped, displeased to find that he no longer had the bottle grasped between his increasingly cold fingers. The older man knew very well that his alcoholism couldn't continue on if he was going to volunteer in Peeta's place. There was no place for weakness and disease in the arena, and Haymitch would be of no use to anyone if he was dead before the countdown even ended. Regardless, drunk Haymitch didn't appreciate being treated like a child by some angry, teenage girl.
He frowned as he watched her down the rest of his drink. There were more full bottles back at his house, tucked away in cabinets, sitting out in the open on the coffee table, and a handful scattered around his bedroom. The alcohol was no loss to him, but he didn't want to see Katniss go the same route, especially when she had so much to do and so much to live for. As for himself, there hadn't been much keeping him around, not until she and Peeta had come along. He hadn't wanted to care for either of them, and his new sense of responsibility was starting to wear on his paper-thin nerves.
A wry smirk crossed his face as Katniss sputtered and coughed. Haymitch was openly happy that she hated the drink. “That's what you get,” he chided. The situation softened immediately as Katniss placed her hand on his arm and he found the smirk slipping away from his face. He didn't try and argue as she helped him to his feet, and Haymitch leaned against her in his inebriated, unsteady state. He had never noticed how strong and solid Katniss was until she walked him home. As frail-looking as she was, she easily kept her balance under his weight.
Each step was heavy as Haymitch trudged up the stairs with Katniss. The cold combined with the alcohol he had been drinking for the better part of the day was finally caught up with him, and the former Victor felt woozy as he laid down on the battered couch near the window. His eyes followed her form as she poked around his living space, and for some reason, held back any criticism that was surely on the tip of her tongue. Haymitch couldn't say that he didn't appreciate it, he wasn't up for an argument at the moment. Shifting around, he made himself comfortable, head resting on the arm of the couch and arms folded around himself.
“You eat something,” he mumbled to her back, eyes already closed. Sometime later, a knock at the door would disturb him from his sleep, but Haymitch wouldn't budge from his place on the sofa.
Back at home, Prim was busy with being busy, trying to stop her head from hurting and her heart from aching. The thought of losing Gale to the games was fleeting, and anemic in comparison to the loss she already felt for Katniss. It wasn't fair that she was being taken away again when she had only just returned and Primrose had been allowed a taste of the new normalcy that winning and stability brought. How could the Capitol take that away? What gave them that right?
From the kitchen, Prim heard the exchange between Peeta and Katniss, and gathered that Haymitch had agreed to take his place in the upcoming games. The young blonde wished to intervene on her sister's behalf and explain that Katniss was only slightly overbearing because she cared, because she didn't want to see more innocent people die, but Peeta had left in a huff before she could force herself to move. Heavy guilt sat in her stomach, and Prim had always been timid, but she was suddenly ashamed of her inaction all over again. Volunteering crossed her mind just then, a way to repay Katniss for what she had done the year before, but she knew better than to do that. There was mother to take care of, residents of the Seam to help heal and Prim knew exactly where she was needed. She could already picture the look Katniss would give her if she even mentioned such a thing; probably similar to the look she had given Gale a short time ago.
Prim offered Katniss a sympathetic smile as the dark-haired girl joined she and Gale in the kitchen. “You just need to give him some time,” Prim added to Gale's impromptu pep-talk, although Katniss seemed less than optimistic. In a way, she was glad that Gale was choosing to leave for the night, Prim didn't want to be around him and couldn't figure out if she was more angry with him or herself. Wanting to volunteer was the noble thing to do, but a selfish part of Prim wanted him to stay, to have another chance to spend long afternoons with him, to pick berries and clean squirrels for supper at the end of a long day, and be close. Sometimes, Prim really made herself ill.
As Katniss made tea, Prim passed by her from behind and gave her shoulder a kiss, letting her know that she would be back and ready talk to talk once she saw Gale off. She didn't know what he wanted to say, but she owed him a moment to be heard. In the foyer, Prim crossed her arms and listened to the explanation that Gale was giving. Emotions were running high, and Prim knew that she should have accepted his apology and taken his word for it—that he hadn't done anything in order to hurt her. Instead, she remained silent, her sad, blue eyes a direct betrayal of the blank look on her face. “Goodnight, Gale,” was all she said before closing the door behind him.
Once again, the house was quiet and Prim locked up for the night, turning off all of the lights before finding Katniss in her bedroom. She was exhausted and sat down with her sister on the bed, sinking into the soft, fluffy mattress. She was at a loss for where to start, but the feeling of Katniss's arms around her, and the weakness of her normally strong voice caused the blonde's lower lip to quiver. She swallowed the lump in her throat, wanting to be the rock for a change when Katniss was so vulnerable. “You will,” she whispered, hugging the other girl tightly. “You belong here and,” she took a deep breath, “nothing is going to keep you away for long.”
That night, Prim fell asleep with Katniss, sharing the bed the way they had when they were small. It felt nice to be close again, and Prim would savor every moment while she could.
Alright, as long as it doesn't bother you. Would you like me to skip at the end of my post, or do you want them to hang out at the restaurant a little more?
“Yes, doctor,” said James, professional and polite before making his leave.
On the way back to the elevator, James looked over Elizabeth Charles' file, seeing the notes from various physicians and nurses and read on as her condition from the car accident grew worse and worse. She had never fully regained consciousness after the crash, and was now brain-dead, lying there and waiting for her organs to be harvested. It seemed like a little much for his first day, and James had expected to be doing clinic duty, looking after sick kids, or telling people whether or not that strange rash was or wasn't herpes. Instead, he was going to be pushing along paper work and trying to deal with a grieving husband in a business-like, but compassionate way. James considered himself to be a good person, but he was fairly emotional, which wouldn't make for a good combination.
The sterile smell of the hospital returned once the elevator doors opened to reveal the third floor. Elizabeth's room was at the end of the wing, and James made no stops as he walked, mentally preparing himself to push these papers on the woman's poor husband and then leave to schedule the surgery. He had to remind himself that even if Elizabeth Charles' youth was wasted, she would be helping countless people in death, and that was something that he could appreciate.
Knocking briefly on the doorjamb, James stepped into the room. One look at Robert Charles was enough to make James forget the pep talk that he had given himself on the way over. The man was broken, distraught and likely to never fully recover from such a loss. In that moment, James wanted to walk away, give the man more time with his wife, but he knew that Gabriel and the OR wouldn't wait for anything like that. “I'm very sorry for your loss,” James said, coming to stand at the side of Elizabeth's bed. He looked from the battered young woman and back to her husband. “There's some paper work to finish up, and then we can schedule the surgery for--”
“Already?” Robert asked, looking shocked.
James paused, although he didn't falter. “Unfortunately, yes. The paper work needs to be processed, and then we'll schedule, so you'll have a few more hours with her.” He hoped that would suffice.
“Her parents are coming from out of state. What if they don't make it in time?”
This was like a scene from a bad movie, and James would have done anything to press rewind. “Like I said, it's going to take some time.” James reached out and awkwardly set his hand on the man's shoulder, and Robert's head sank into his hands, his body racked with sobs. “I'm not ready to lose her yet,” Robert whispered.
“I'm incredibly sorry,” James apologized again, but he knew that words from a stranger, especially one who was there to get authorization for harvesting organs, wouldn't mean anything to this grief-stricken husband.
“You married?” Robert asked, and James shook his head. “You have kids?” Again, he didn't. “You don't know what it's like. Don't pretend to care,” Robert wiped at his eyes, shaking James' hand from his shoulder. “Give me the damn papers.”
The young doctor knew that Robert had every right to be angry, but he was already overwhelmed. It had been silly of him to think that this wouldn't be emotionally taxing, and suddenly, he wished he had paid more attention to the psychology aspect of his classes in school. He opened the file and took out the papers, explaining the process to Robert before obtaining his signature on multiple forms. For as long as Elizabeth was kept alive with those machines, her organs would be viable and James would do what he could to schedule a late surgery. He felt like he owed that to the family, at least to let Elizabeth's parents say their goodbye's to their daughter.
Breathing a heavy sigh after exiting the room, James ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He hoped this would get easier, or else those years in school and all that money was about to go to waste. Often, the blonde man considered himself to be a strong person, but when faced with loss, he was a mess. It could have had something to do with the fact that he was distanced from his own family, but the Hudson's had never been very close-knit. He didn't want to face facts and acknowledge that this was just hard.
After returning to the surgery floor, James turned in the papers and talked with the staff. As with any major hospital, the schedule board was busy and hectic with little openings. There were only two spaces available at that moment; an available OR at noon and another one at eleven PM. The papers needed time to be faxed, seen and approved, so James erred on the side of caution and took the late night surgery. Obviously, it was going to be a long night.
“I got everything cleared up with the Charles',” James announced, once again managing to find doctor Morris. “You're scheduled with her at eleven tonight. There wasn't much available.” James assumed that Gabriel knew that, as his name had appeared more than once on the large, dry erase board that day, but he felt the need to make excuses for himself. It didn't feel right to come out and say that he was trying to make everyone happy and still do his job.
On the way back to the elevator, James looked over Elizabeth Charles' file, seeing the notes from various physicians and nurses and read on as her condition from the car accident grew worse and worse. She had never fully regained consciousness after the crash, and was now brain-dead, lying there and waiting for her organs to be harvested. It seemed like a little much for his first day, and James had expected to be doing clinic duty, looking after sick kids, or telling people whether or not that strange rash was or wasn't herpes. Instead, he was going to be pushing along paper work and trying to deal with a grieving husband in a business-like, but compassionate way. James considered himself to be a good person, but he was fairly emotional, which wouldn't make for a good combination.
The sterile smell of the hospital returned once the elevator doors opened to reveal the third floor. Elizabeth's room was at the end of the wing, and James made no stops as he walked, mentally preparing himself to push these papers on the woman's poor husband and then leave to schedule the surgery. He had to remind himself that even if Elizabeth Charles' youth was wasted, she would be helping countless people in death, and that was something that he could appreciate.
Knocking briefly on the doorjamb, James stepped into the room. One look at Robert Charles was enough to make James forget the pep talk that he had given himself on the way over. The man was broken, distraught and likely to never fully recover from such a loss. In that moment, James wanted to walk away, give the man more time with his wife, but he knew that Gabriel and the OR wouldn't wait for anything like that. “I'm very sorry for your loss,” James said, coming to stand at the side of Elizabeth's bed. He looked from the battered young woman and back to her husband. “There's some paper work to finish up, and then we can schedule the surgery for--”
“Already?” Robert asked, looking shocked.
James paused, although he didn't falter. “Unfortunately, yes. The paper work needs to be processed, and then we'll schedule, so you'll have a few more hours with her.” He hoped that would suffice.
“Her parents are coming from out of state. What if they don't make it in time?”
This was like a scene from a bad movie, and James would have done anything to press rewind. “Like I said, it's going to take some time.” James reached out and awkwardly set his hand on the man's shoulder, and Robert's head sank into his hands, his body racked with sobs. “I'm not ready to lose her yet,” Robert whispered.
“I'm incredibly sorry,” James apologized again, but he knew that words from a stranger, especially one who was there to get authorization for harvesting organs, wouldn't mean anything to this grief-stricken husband.
“You married?” Robert asked, and James shook his head. “You have kids?” Again, he didn't. “You don't know what it's like. Don't pretend to care,” Robert wiped at his eyes, shaking James' hand from his shoulder. “Give me the damn papers.”
The young doctor knew that Robert had every right to be angry, but he was already overwhelmed. It had been silly of him to think that this wouldn't be emotionally taxing, and suddenly, he wished he had paid more attention to the psychology aspect of his classes in school. He opened the file and took out the papers, explaining the process to Robert before obtaining his signature on multiple forms. For as long as Elizabeth was kept alive with those machines, her organs would be viable and James would do what he could to schedule a late surgery. He felt like he owed that to the family, at least to let Elizabeth's parents say their goodbye's to their daughter.
Breathing a heavy sigh after exiting the room, James ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. He hoped this would get easier, or else those years in school and all that money was about to go to waste. Often, the blonde man considered himself to be a strong person, but when faced with loss, he was a mess. It could have had something to do with the fact that he was distanced from his own family, but the Hudson's had never been very close-knit. He didn't want to face facts and acknowledge that this was just hard.
After returning to the surgery floor, James turned in the papers and talked with the staff. As with any major hospital, the schedule board was busy and hectic with little openings. There were only two spaces available at that moment; an available OR at noon and another one at eleven PM. The papers needed time to be faxed, seen and approved, so James erred on the side of caution and took the late night surgery. Obviously, it was going to be a long night.
“I got everything cleared up with the Charles',” James announced, once again managing to find doctor Morris. “You're scheduled with her at eleven tonight. There wasn't much available.” James assumed that Gabriel knew that, as his name had appeared more than once on the large, dry erase board that day, but he felt the need to make excuses for himself. It didn't feel right to come out and say that he was trying to make everyone happy and still do his job.
Awesome :3
Yeah, I totally agree. I could see his mom and dad not trusting Charlotte and being confused about why she wants to hang around him.
I had a thought about them running into her friends later in the day? That is, if they're going to continue hanging out and Noah doesn't need to get to work, lol. But I thought we could establish her friends as an early conflict, and I think his friends would probably feel the same way about Charlotte when we eventually bring them in.
Charlotte shook her head, chewing as she thought of the right words. Whatever Noah had to say couldn't have been anything she hadn't heard before, and admittedly, Beverly was an oddly uppity place. Sure, it was a nice enough town to live in, but it wasn't anything like Marblehead, where the real money was. The fact that many residents of Beverly looked down on those who lived in north or south Boston was laughable at best. “I don't mind,” she finally decided with a soft smirk. One elbow on the table, Charlotte picked up her water glass and took a drink through the straw, waiting for Noah to continue on. He was definitely good conversation, more than a cute guy with a nice beard.
In her own experiences, Charlotte had done her fair share of rule breaking, but she had never done anything that she could have been arrested for. There was the occasional late night at the boat house, or charging something to her credit card when she knew that she didn't have the money to back it up, and the time she had borrowed the family car without permission that one time in high school—maybe that was something that would have warranted reprimand by the police, but for the most part, she was squeaky clean. It was boring, and again, Noah was proving to be the exciting one between the two of them, which made Charlotte more inclined to stick around after breakfast.
“I've heard of it, but I've never been there,” she said. There were a lot of places in Boston that she had never been to, and she lived up to the notion of being a tourist in her own city. The architecture around Boston was beautiful, though, and Charlotte didn't blame Noah for wanting a closer, more intimate look. Picking up her glass, she clinked it against his with a grin. “We should go after we're done here,” she suggested, “even though it's full of tourists.”
In her own experiences, Charlotte had done her fair share of rule breaking, but she had never done anything that she could have been arrested for. There was the occasional late night at the boat house, or charging something to her credit card when she knew that she didn't have the money to back it up, and the time she had borrowed the family car without permission that one time in high school—maybe that was something that would have warranted reprimand by the police, but for the most part, she was squeaky clean. It was boring, and again, Noah was proving to be the exciting one between the two of them, which made Charlotte more inclined to stick around after breakfast.
“I've heard of it, but I've never been there,” she said. There were a lot of places in Boston that she had never been to, and she lived up to the notion of being a tourist in her own city. The architecture around Boston was beautiful, though, and Charlotte didn't blame Noah for wanting a closer, more intimate look. Picking up her glass, she clinked it against his with a grin. “We should go after we're done here,” she suggested, “even though it's full of tourists.”
Nah, that's not who I am. I don't expect you to be perfect when I make mistakes all the time. I can't imagine anyone getting that bent out of shape over typos.
Haha, alright.
Haha, alright.
Between the two of her sisters, Narcissa had never been particularly close with Bellatrix. Often, she thought it had something to do with all of the years between them, and Narcissa couldn't seem to find the time to openly care about the dark arts, or go out of her way to pick on the Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's at school. About the only thing the two did agree on was blood purity, and even then, Narcissa was nowhere near as fanatical about it as her dark-haired sister. Bellatrix was difficult to get along with, but that didn't mean that Naricssa didn't care for her oldest sister—it simply meant that she liked Andromeda more. Surely, there was no love to be lost between herself and Bella, after all, the eldest was already married off and out of the house, which only widened the disconnect between them.
In sharp contrast to her oldest sister, Andromeda was warm and caring, fun to be around and sharp-witted. Secretly, Narcissa wished that she could be more like her, earn some respect for her mind in place of admiration for her looks. However, she appreciated her sister, and was always happy to have her around. It had been tough without her at Hogwarts that year, and Narcissa was often turning her nose up at the likes of her own house simply because she had always been friends with her own family, and Lucius, of course, and she didn't wish to make new acquaintances. Hogwarts castle was lonely, which was why this holiday was turning out to be so important to Narcissa; she needed time with people she actually liked in order to get her through the rest of the year.
Smirking in return, Narcissa linked her arm with her sister. “The party doesn't start until I walk in, Dromeda, you know that.” It was the firm belief of the pale blonde that she wasn't ever late—everyone else was simply early.
As Druella cleared her throat, Narcissa did her best to listen, be polite and not run out of the kitchen with her sister. “Yes, mother,” she replied, hoping the agreement would pass for both herself and Andromeda. Getting dressed for dinner was something that Narcissa absolutely adored, and any excuse to do a little bit extra was always taken. She hoped that it would only be Bellatrix and Rodolphus joining them that evening, and that the younger Lestrange wouldn't be attending dinner as well. Before she and Lucius had become an official couple, there had been talk of setting her up with Rabstan, but Narcissa had thrown an extravagant fit, not needing to be arranged the way her oldest sister had been.
Following one of the elves from the kitchen, Narcissa stayed linked with the other girl, eyebrows raised and ears open for gossip as they walked. “They must be mad,” she whispered in return as they passed through the house, past portraits of other noble Black's and ornate statues from far away lands. The Black Manor looked more like a museum than a residence, but Narcissa had always found charm in the place. At the very least, the house still managed to feel warm, like a real family lived there, which was the complete opposite of Grimmauld Place. Sometimes, she felt extraordinarily bad for her aunt and cousins. “And like you need any help finding a boyfriend,” she added, bumping her hip playfully against Andromeda's. “Please tell me you're still with Ted.”
The subject of dating was often something that the pair discussed in their letters and Narcissa knew all about Ted Tonks, the muggle boy who had fallen for her sister. Initially, the blonde hadn't approved and had done her best to make her sister see that something like that could never work, but she didn't feel the need to stand in the way of her Andromeda's happiness. Unlike the rest of her family, love was important to her, and as long as Ted treated someone as precious as Andromeda the way she deserved, Narcissa could quell the urge to protest long enough to give the couple her blessing. All she had to do now was meet the man and ensure that he was indeed good enough for her dear sister.
As Andromeda rushed past her on the stairs, Narcissa took her time, following behind and carrying on their conversation. It wasn't until Andromeda fell at the door did Narcissa pick up her pace and she came to stand over her grinning sister. “I heard they're terribly different in size,” she mentioned, opening the door to Andromeda's bedroom and stepping over her sister to enter with a smirk. “Lucius told me that Rodolphus is big and...clumsy, and the younger one, well,” she laughed, taking a seat on Andromeda's bed, “he's thin and sneaky, like a rat and not a snake because at least,” laughing, she flopped back on the bed, “snakes are cunning. I don't think you'd want to marry him, Dromeda.”
In sharp contrast to her oldest sister, Andromeda was warm and caring, fun to be around and sharp-witted. Secretly, Narcissa wished that she could be more like her, earn some respect for her mind in place of admiration for her looks. However, she appreciated her sister, and was always happy to have her around. It had been tough without her at Hogwarts that year, and Narcissa was often turning her nose up at the likes of her own house simply because she had always been friends with her own family, and Lucius, of course, and she didn't wish to make new acquaintances. Hogwarts castle was lonely, which was why this holiday was turning out to be so important to Narcissa; she needed time with people she actually liked in order to get her through the rest of the year.
Smirking in return, Narcissa linked her arm with her sister. “The party doesn't start until I walk in, Dromeda, you know that.” It was the firm belief of the pale blonde that she wasn't ever late—everyone else was simply early.
As Druella cleared her throat, Narcissa did her best to listen, be polite and not run out of the kitchen with her sister. “Yes, mother,” she replied, hoping the agreement would pass for both herself and Andromeda. Getting dressed for dinner was something that Narcissa absolutely adored, and any excuse to do a little bit extra was always taken. She hoped that it would only be Bellatrix and Rodolphus joining them that evening, and that the younger Lestrange wouldn't be attending dinner as well. Before she and Lucius had become an official couple, there had been talk of setting her up with Rabstan, but Narcissa had thrown an extravagant fit, not needing to be arranged the way her oldest sister had been.
Following one of the elves from the kitchen, Narcissa stayed linked with the other girl, eyebrows raised and ears open for gossip as they walked. “They must be mad,” she whispered in return as they passed through the house, past portraits of other noble Black's and ornate statues from far away lands. The Black Manor looked more like a museum than a residence, but Narcissa had always found charm in the place. At the very least, the house still managed to feel warm, like a real family lived there, which was the complete opposite of Grimmauld Place. Sometimes, she felt extraordinarily bad for her aunt and cousins. “And like you need any help finding a boyfriend,” she added, bumping her hip playfully against Andromeda's. “Please tell me you're still with Ted.”
The subject of dating was often something that the pair discussed in their letters and Narcissa knew all about Ted Tonks, the muggle boy who had fallen for her sister. Initially, the blonde hadn't approved and had done her best to make her sister see that something like that could never work, but she didn't feel the need to stand in the way of her Andromeda's happiness. Unlike the rest of her family, love was important to her, and as long as Ted treated someone as precious as Andromeda the way she deserved, Narcissa could quell the urge to protest long enough to give the couple her blessing. All she had to do now was meet the man and ensure that he was indeed good enough for her dear sister.
As Andromeda rushed past her on the stairs, Narcissa took her time, following behind and carrying on their conversation. It wasn't until Andromeda fell at the door did Narcissa pick up her pace and she came to stand over her grinning sister. “I heard they're terribly different in size,” she mentioned, opening the door to Andromeda's bedroom and stepping over her sister to enter with a smirk. “Lucius told me that Rodolphus is big and...clumsy, and the younger one, well,” she laughed, taking a seat on Andromeda's bed, “he's thin and sneaky, like a rat and not a snake because at least,” laughing, she flopped back on the bed, “snakes are cunning. I don't think you'd want to marry him, Dromeda.”
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