Rebellions are built on hope

Bellatrix Lestrange had a reputation as a cruel and bloodthirsty warrior, which was true, but what many people did not think was that she had a great passion for literature. She read books quicker than anyone in her family ever had and - to this day - still enjoyed spending entire nights poring through tomes without rest.

And thus here she was at Flourish and Blotts, once again browsing through the numerous shelves that were stacked to the ceiling. She was in no rush today and had enough money to purchase any book she wanted, so she was going to choose carefully. She walked down aisles and read the summaries of books before either putting it in a basket she held or sliding it back onto the shelf. It was a calm, domestic image which wasn’t often seen from her.

She turned around and was prepared to go to another aisle with a half-full basket swinging on her arm when she suddenly flew backwards, someone had bumped into her. When she got up she had her wand drawn and her eyes narrowed, if looks could kill then whoever saw her then would definitely be dead.

Andie was quite sure fate or some vengeful god had their wrath fixed on her particularly. After going for so long without seeing her sister to be suddenly thrown into her path every time she turned around . . . It was maddening. Luckily Dora wasn’t with her today, so she didn’t have to worry about that. Still, it would have been so nice to just be able to pop in and pick up her book and leave without worrying about her sister. Though she nearly ducked right back out the door when she spotted Bellatrix, Andie decided against that in the end. She shouldn’t have to live in terror. 

Her plan was to simply avoid Bella to the best of her ability, although the store wasn’t really that big so it wasn’t an easy feat. She nearly managed it though, until she turned without paying attention and did the exact opposite of what she intended. It triggered a million childhood memories of doing the same thing, running into Bellatrix and without really meaning to, Andie let out an annoyed sigh and rolled her eyes. 

James was going to be a father. That thought started out as a surreal idea when he first learned Lily was pregnant and gradually became more real in his mind only to make a complete 180 when he realized his wife actually went into labor. It was no longer a future of his - it was his present. Any moment now he could be handled a tiny bundle of joy that was theirs and he was so absolutely not prepared for that. 

The way back from the store went by in a blur. He remembered being asked questions and then answering some, he remembered rushing towards a safe apparation place as if his life depended on it with his friends’ voices calling after him, but nothing was real, nothing felt real until he burst into their house. And so much had happened, him running to Lily’s side to be with her at that moment, Sirius talking his ear off even though he was obviously masking his own panic, Andromeda trying to maintain some semblance of order and his other two friends adding themselves into the mix. It was an overwhelming experience, most likely because there were just too many people around. However, James was determined to make it easier for both Lily and their child, and for that, he needed to pull himself together, get out of his mind and do everything that Andie told him to do. Even if he didn’t want to leave Lily’s side to get hot water and towels.

When the door closed behind them, he immediately took off into the direction of their kitchen not willing to stay away for too long, but her question got him thinking. He was definitely not handling it as best as he thought he would be as he still felt a bit dazed at the surreality of it all. Though, Lily’s pained screams at each contraction were making it way too real. ‘Could have been worse I suppose.’ He answered noncommittally as they entered the kitchen and he beelined to the stove and grabbed a kettle to fill it. ‘But that’s not about me. I just hope there’ll be no complications.’ 

He did seem to have a better grip on everything than many of the fathers Andie had seen, which was a relief. She didn’t like trying to balance nervous fathers with laboring mothers if she could help it. And in this case, having his mates around was an interesting complication that she could have just as easily done without. He had the presence of mind to help when she needed it, which did add quite a bit in his favor; there had been several times in the past when she had to rummage through the house on her own to find everything she needed. 

“I don’t anticipate any complications,” she said calmly, partly focused on the conversation and partly going through her list of supplies she would need. “Lily is healthy and the baby is healthy, and I think this will be as smooth as it possibly can be.” Which meant they were in for a lot more screaming, probably, and most likely several more hours before the baby made an appearance. She wanted to be reassuring - Andie had always felt a kinship with Sirius, and she wanted his friends to like her, but she wasn’t quite sure how to go about it in this case.

He had tried the potion out and found it incredibly useful, especially for getting the nasty thick residue that some of the less legal potions he produced formed on the cauldron bottoms. When he received another letter, out of the blue, he performed a basic check fo hexes, and then opened it. In his hurry to reply, his handwriting was less neat, controlled Mr. Prince and closer to his own spiky cramped scrawl. He did not even notice the mugglish sign off before he sent the letter.

 He had had experience with this particular error in his attempts to improve upon the brewing time and it was only due to some small help from another that he had managed to salvage his.

Lefevre,

If you act quickly you should be able to save it but you must turn the heat down at once. 

 Take some of mix out of cauldron, only a ladleful  or so, Add enough powdered horklump fibre to make it into a paste  Gradually stir the paste into the rest of the cauldron.  I have enclosed a plimpy scale, add it now, then stir in  anticlockwise direction until potion starts to crystallise. [7 maybe 8 stirs].  Turn heat up as high as it will go. 

That should work, if you have left it too long and it instead starts to foam, you are dealing with something likely to explode in presence of magic and recommend you find any kind of heavy lid and weight it down on top of cauldron until the whistling stops. DO NOT TRY TO VANISH IT

Godspeed,

HB Prince

After sending the first, he took more care to write a second more careful letter.

Healer Lefevre,

I’m sure I would not be surprised at how often you require skelegro, but was interested as to how the brew came to be mixed with aconite. I don’t expect a brewer as experienced as yourself failed to label his their bottles, were you attempting to improve on the potion? The recovered batch should still work, albeit slower and there may be some discomfort and increased risk of teeth growing near the missing bone. I have not had enough experience with the potion’s use after recovery to speak with authority.

Your potion has been invaluable, and would certainly be useful to other brewers, particularly those working with poisons. In exchange for the recipe, I would suggest that perhaps next time you brew Skelegro, instead of aconite, you upend the juice of one shrivel fig into the cauldron.  

Regards,

H.B. Prince

The speedy response was - possibly literally - a lifesaver. For the life of her, Andie couldn’t figure out how Dora had managed to get into her little office; the door was kept carefully shut and locked at all times, even when Andie was brewing things. She had windows for ventilation so that the door could safely be kept closed. But really, Dora was incredibly clever and ingenious at times so she shouldn’t be surprised. The instructions were quite clear, although the letter seemed less neat than she expected. She followed them to the letter and was relieved that everything seemed to go smoothly. When the second letter arrived, a little later after the room had been restored to order, Dora confined to her room, and Andie could relax with a glass of wine, she was even ready to laugh about it. 

Mr. Prince,

My innumerable thanks for your speedy help in this matter. I was able to salvage the potion, although I’m not sure how comfortable I’ll feel using it going forward. As for how the mishap came about . . . I have a young daughter and I’m afraid she must have snagged my wand and unlocked my office door. She’s far more clever than is safe for us, and very curious. I’ll be revisiting my security measures for the future. 

I hadn’t considered putting my potion to use aside from my own personal needs really but I’m happy to share if it will be of use to others. I believe knowledge is best when shared. You’ll find the recipe enclosed, and I am happy to follow that suggestion for my next batch of Skelegro - which will be sooner than I had hoped, thanks to my daughter. 

Respectfully,

“And you’re telling me that you would’ve wanted to stay after you ran away with him,” Bellatrix scoffed. “Don’t put my name in it Andromeda, I wasn’t even home the day you left. But you are right, Andromeda, about one thing. After all you chose to betray the family who stuck with you since you were born because some random boy was good in bed. Nothing good to tell?”

She tapped her wand against her lips. “Hmm. Are you sure about that? I have to admire how much of a liar you are, it has to be pathological at this point. Imagine trying to tell your older sister you were such a good actress you faked your way through the first decade and half of your life. Please, Andromeda, at least quit being fake and say you just didn’t want to be engaged to Rabastan.”

At the sight of Andromeda between herself and her daughter, she flicked her wand and her sister was once again at the girl’s side instead. “Did I harm her, for Merlin’s sake. No I did not, and you can’t say I did either Andromeda, your reaction is ridiculous. In fact I will prove it to you once more that you are merely paranoid.” She pointed to her left with a blank expression on her face even as her eyes blazed with indignation. “You wanted to leave didn’t you, well you can go, and please do tell Sirius how you met me after and both you and that child of yours left unscathed.” She smiled a little at the final words. “Who, by the way, Andromeda, is my niece. So I will find a way to speak to her about the other side of the story - you won’t be around her forever. By the way, in case your departure from us cut off your access to dictionaries, speak means to say something to convey a meaning and not some nefarious threat. So ta-ta Andromeda, I shall see either you or her around.”

“It’s really quite amazing what you choose not to remember,” Andie said. She didn’t want to have this conversation now - or ever. But particularly now, in front of Dora. “I never faked anything,” she continued. “I never agreed with the family values, and I never tried to pretend I did.” Most of her comments weren’t even worth the air for an answer, but the one thing that did cut was the thought that she wouldn’t have wanted to keep her family. She knew they were terrible - it would have been an untenable situation, of course, but she never wanted to let any of them go. That had all been at their own doing. 

She didn’t feel that bad about it now, after all these years. They were the ones who had chosen to cut her out, and that clearly showed that their love was conditional. Unconditional love would be supportive no matter who she fell in love with. The Black family had not shown that. But Ted had and that was the reason she had gone through with her decision all those years ago and why she continued to choose him since then. 

Lefevre seemed like a very sensible sort. Severus assumed the other man was probably very experienced. or woman..could be a woman, they were equally likely to be good at the subject, and traditionally witches dealt more with the potions side of magic…or had in muggle books. He didn’t know how much that reflected reality though. And they had signed ‘respectfully’ which brought a rush of warm pride to his chest. Yes even if they were french, Severus had decided he liked the other potioneer. He quickly penned a response and then tried to rub the small mark from the cigarette ash off the bottom of the parchment.

Healer Lefevre,

I suppose telling them to suck it up will not suffice here, so recommend solutions in former letter. Equally effective may be dosing them orally with Doxy repellent, as the symptoms of Moonseed are likely to be cancelled out by the symptoms of swallowing Doxy repellent. However, there could be unintended side effects. 

If you do visit the shop rather than owling your order, do ask for Mr. Toots. He is one of the brewers and a savant with herbological matters. I can personally attest to his ability.

That sounds infinitely more useful than scouring, and I do prefer to maintain my equipment over long periods of time rather than having to buy new cauldrons when the bottom thins out. I would be obliged if you could include the recipe in your next letter.

Many thanks,

H.B.Prince

To her surprise, the response from Mr. Prince brought a very genuine laugh from Andie; she couldn’t picture herself telling anyone to suck it up, although it felt like it would be the most satisfying option. The reference to Tilden Toots was a little surprising but she decided not to mention that she at least knew of him, in hopes of maintaining her anonymity. She sent her thanks and the recipe for her scouring potion in the next letter, and had really thought that would be the end of it until Dora got into her office and she needed some more expert advice.

Mr. Prince,

I hope you do not object to this owl, but I find myself in something of a quandary and hoped for some advice again. 

In the midst of brewing some Skelegro (you would be surprised at the number of times I have needed this in my line of work), a bottle of aconite was upended into the cauldron with some . . . interesting side effects. I was hoping you might know of a way to salvage this batch, although I am fully prepared to dump it out as it might become necessary.

Respectfully,

A. T. Lefèvre

Severus was surprised to see a reply to him, or to Mr. Prince, rather, and now that he had the name of the rather intelligent potioneer, having thrown the old copy with her original letter somewhere ein the growing pile of magazines and papers on the cramped coffee table, decided to owl them directly with his response. As a firm believer in titles that had been earned, he decided to preface the letter with his correspondents assumed one. He made pains to write neatly, in the supposed handwriting of his Prince person, spacing the scrawled slanted handwriting out slightly.

Healer Lefevre,

I hope you do not find me presumptuous for the direct communication, but this seems a matter of some urgency.

I assume that shoving a bezoar down the afflicted patient’s throat was ineffective, especially if they delayed in seeking treatment.

Have you been able to try Borage’s Poison test on the sample used? Standard practice is indeed the A. To C. P, but I have had some personal success in using a wiggenweld base with the addition of three drops of adder bile and shredded honking daffodil petals. Fresh should work best, so I recommend Witchcraft Essentials in Hogsmeade.

Regards,

H. B. Prince.

P. S. You mentioned in your previous letter that you had a particularly effective cleansing potion for delicate equipment, and I would be interested to know if it differs from a Scouring Solution.

The response was appreciated; Andie had hoped the direct letter would catch his attention, and she was glad to have someone to give advice in this tricky case. The request was also gratifying, although the way it was worded made her wonder whether it was truly a request or just a theoretical query.

Mr. Prince,

Please accept my apologies if you prefer a different form of address.

I appreciate your response. Sadly, the patient expressed some displeasure at the thought of a bezoar and I could not persuade them otherwise, possibly because the side effects have not been severe as of yet. As a private Healer, I do try to take the patient’s wishes into account and thus my ability to shove a bezoar down their throat without consequences are limited.

I must confess, I forgot Borage’s Poison test, and that will be an excellent place to start. I wouldn’t have thought to alter it and I’ll keep those changes in mind when I work. I’ll be sure to stop by Witchcraft Essentials as well; I appreciate a good recommendation.

As for my potion, it works by softening anything caked on rather than abrading the equipment. I found it does less damage to my equipment and that is, of course, a desirable outcome. I would be happy to share the recipe, if you’re interested in testing it yourself.

Thank you for your response and assistance in this matter.

Respectfully,

Bellatrix wondered how stupid Andromeda was to be unable to recognize her own sister beneath the simple disguise she had on: a charm to make her hair stick-straight and buttery blonde, a bit of carefully applied makeup to make freckles appear on her face, emphasized lip liner to ensure her mouth looked fuller and larger. Perhaps it was the almost Muggle fashion she wore - it was made by a pure-blood tailor, but it was loose-fitting and long for her standards, a lacy piece of sheer white fabric that fell to her calves.

She gave Andromeda a bright, wide smile and shook her head. “Oh no, that’s not mine,” she said sweetly, putting on the best American accent she could. (Thank Merlin for the fact that Druella had lived in New York before meeting their father. Though Cygnus had discouraged his daughters from speaking like Americans, they had still had traces of accents from being around their mother.) “Sorry.” Please let it be convincing. Bellatrix hadn’t needed to use an American accent for anything except missions, but it wouldn’t do to let Andromeda know who she was too quickly. 

Her hand itched to hold her wand and curse the face off the bitch who left her and Narcissa and ruined their reputations, but she resisted. After all, there were Muggles nearby and it wouldn’t do to get arrested for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. “Say,” she chirped cheerfully, internally groaning at the disgusting voice she had put on, “you got a child coming along, Miss? An awful lot of baby things there.”

How unfair was it that this cunt who made us a laughingstock with her departure got to be knocked up by trash whereas she had tried and tried and only ever lost one baby girl? Why was it that the universe preferred some people - traitorous, disloyal weasels no less - over others who had been nothing but pure and devoted to their lives?

“Hmmm.” Frowning, Andie flipped through a few pages to see if there was a name or anything that could be used to identify the owner. Seeing as she had only asked the passer-by if the notebook was hers, she was surprised when the witch continued talking to her. Andie looked back up again with a polite smile, trying to decide if she knew the woman from somewhere. While she didn’t seem immediately recognizeable, there was something familiar about her. But Andie saw a lot of people throughout her time as a Healer so that was likely it. Although as she realized the witch had an American accent, that seemed less likely. 

“No,” Andie said with a smile; she and Ted had discussed having another child, and while she certainly wanted one in the future, this was not the time. “They’re for a patient,” she added. That was as much information she she felt comfortable giving out - to a stranger or to someone she knew. Privacy was important to her, and even around people who could conceivably know Lily and that she was pregnant, Andie wouldn’t discuss her pregnancy. 

Bellatrix laughed loudly. “No, I won’t. Not for now.” Dora’s hair had indeed remained brown but her lips had changed to a bright red color as though she had smeared on lipstick. She recognized instantly what this was but didn’t think much of it. The child was too young to be of much use to the Dark Lord anyway, and besides, an older and smarter person would put up more of a fight and thus be more fun.

It was the second part of Andromeda’s little speech that caught her attention more. “What does she know about me, Andie?” She tsked, clicking her tongue as though she were a long-suffering mother and Andromeda were her mischievous child. “Nothing good, I bet. You’d have made sure you looked like the hero escaping from the evil villains that were your own family. No, you’ll let me near her at least once to tell her the truth about myself. It’s the least you can do after probably slandering both Narcissa and I.” She smirked as she saw Dora’s eyes widen with curiosity and patted her head just once, very gently, and the expression on Andromeda’s face. “Calm down. I haven’t harmed her, have I? She’s half filth because of her mother’s stupid choices but she is still blood. Unlike you I actually recognize that.”

She knew Andromeda would not turn back, but the child might, and then she would too in order to shield her. Mothers tended to do a lot for their children, Bellatrix had realized - their own was just a terrible example of motherhood. So she tilted her head and imagined the little girl’s back turned towards her, and her magic enabled that to happen.

Winning arguments with her older sister had never been an easy task; Andie wasn’t sure how often it had actually happened. She didn’t want to be dragged into that now, not in front of her daughter and not when she had so fully left all that behind her. It no longer mattered what Bella thought of her or if she could hold her own in an argument. 

“If she knows nothing good, it’s because there was nothing good to tell,” Andie said quietly. “You were the ones who made me choose between my family and the man I loved. There’s nothing more to be said about it. And I owe you nothing so no, you will not have the chance to tell her what you think is the truth. If you wanted any part of my daughter’s life, you shouldn’t have cut out me and her father.” Honestly now it would be a minor miracle if Andie let Dora out into the wizarding world at all. The risk of seeing one of her sisters had never seemed so great before but this run-in was shaking her steady foundation. 

@unchainedxandromeda

The letters section of the Poisons Periodical was always full of advice, corrections, complaints, and various remarks by readers. Severus scanned the page for his letter, and for anything Tilden might have written about his research, though this likely was the wrong publication.

To the Editor,

Sir, I am a Poisons Specialist currently working in the field and can corroborate the letter published on the 23rd of May. Despite the lack of research in the area, other similar Oleander based tinctures do not cause the kind of symptoms the writer on the 1st of May was discussing in my experience. Specifically the bleeding eyes and ears is more likely caused by contamination of the tools used, particularly if a pewter cauldron was involved and I know of no occasion historically when aquamarine boils were produced by inhalation of the brewing fumes. Respectfully I must concur that the writer on the 1st of May was “an imbecile” as formerly posited by the writer on the 23rd of May.

Sincerely, 

H.B. Prince

Rarely did Andie participate in letter writing to a publication; she had better uses of her time, and didn’t like to get involved. However, she had read the letter on the 1st of May and been appalled by the contents so obviously she had to write in. It was gratifying to be supported in this. Despite not knowing if the publication allowed anything like this, she felt somewhat compelled to send her own response. 

To H.B. Prince,

Thank you for your thoughtful remarks on the matter of the Oleander based tincture. As a meticulous and thorough potioneer - thought not a professional one, admittedly - I must stand by my former position that the initial letter writer must be an imbecile for not following the necessary steps with the necessary caution in order to properly brew the tincture. 

Additionally, as a Poisons Specialist, if you have the time, I’m facing a difficulty in a patient of mine; I am treating their case of Moonseed Poison but they have a reaction to mistletoe, so I can’t use the Antidote to Common Poisons. Do you have any recommendations?

Respectfully,

Bellatrix ignored Andromeda - the way she deserved to be, for leaving like that - the moment she noticed the little girl beside her who was looking at her with a look of pure curiosity. She grinned wickedly as she knelt so she was eye level with the child, who she now noticed bore a striking resemblance to her baby sister.

Well, well, well. Little Andie’s a bigger slut than I thought, not to mention a much bigger fool than I would ever be. With a little internal giggle she tilted her head and sweetly asked the girl for her name. It was only when the girl revealed her name to be Nymphadora that she truly felt anger and whipped her wand out, pointing it to her sister’s throat.

“You named your daughter the exact same name I had planned to name my own child which I lost.” Bellatrix snarled at her sister, using her free hand to slap Andromeda across the face as hard as she could. A bright red mark of her hand appeared on the younger woman’s cheek. She turned towards the girl who had run back to her mother with a look of terror on her face. “I do apologize for this bad start, child. I’m your aunt Bella and you have another aunt, not that your mother would have told you about us I’m sure.” She smirked as she leaned in to whisper into her ear, though made sure it was loud enough for Andromeda to hear. “Don’t worry. I will never call you Nymphadora.”

With that said, she fixed her fiercest glare at Andromeda and spun on her heel, prepared to storm off.

If Andie didn’t know exactly how badly Dora would take it if she intervened, then she would have swooped her daughter up without hesitation. But Dora was nearly seven now, so she was a little big for Andie to carry and she felt very strongly about her parents trying to take over things that she wanted to do. Which meant that Andie was left to hover nervously, eyes flickering between her daughter and her sister. The old tells were still there - not that Bella was looking - the pinched mouth, the fingers twisting together. 

But despite all her careful attention, the slap took her by surprise. She staggered back a step, reaching up to cup her cheek in her hand. How could Andie possibly have known that Bella was going to have a child named Nymphadora? It had been a name she found in a book and latched on to during her pregnancy; Ted being Ted, he had gone along with it, despite the fact that it was an unusual name. Strangely, the wand pointed at her throat was less unnerving to Andie than the slap had been; neither thing mattered so much though, when Dora came scrambling for cover. Andie’s concerns about being a mother had all proved unfounded; despite her worries that she wouldn’t be able to love her child properly, she was fiercely devoted to Dora. 

“You won’t call her Nymphadora,” Andie said softly as Bella turned. “You won’t call her anything. You aren’t coming near her again.” She glanced down at Dora and softened her expression as she spoke under her breath, “Count down from ten, dearest.” They had been working with Dora on control of her talents, and the last thing anyone needed was for one of Andie’s family members to know about Dora’s Metamorphmagus ability. Thankfully her hair had remained brown through the encounter but that was no guarantee for the future. 

“And she does know about you. She knows about my family and how I had to choose who to love. How the only possible choice left to me was the person who made me better.” Although she didn’t like discussing her past, and she didn’t do it often, she had always believed in honesty; she didn’t want Dora to find out like this that Andie had kept a whole family hidden from her. 

After the visit to Madam Malkin’s, Bellatrix immediately decided that she would make her way home. One battle a day was quite enough for her if she wanted to stay under the radar, as frustrating as it was for her not to have an outlet for her magical powers.

As she walked down a cobbled street, admiring the dusky sky, she suddenly heard violin music playing from seemingly nowhere. Immediately she had her wand clenched tightly in her hand as she looked around - there was nobody around, and no buildings where the music could be played from. How unusual, what was going on?

Curious and a little confused, she proceeded to cross the road and turn right where she saw someone standing alone in the cold street, solemnly playing a violin.

“Listen, Mum!”

“Dora, no -” Andie bit back a frustrated exclamation and hurried after Dora; she loved her daughter with her whole heart but quite often wished that Dora had a little more common sense and a little less curiosity. Andie couldn’t count how many times a simple errand turned into something much more complicated because of Dora’s many distractions. Casting a wary look around as she caught up with Dora, she was relieved to see that today, at least, it was a very harmless violin player. Dora was captivated though, so Andie just stood patiently; this was a distraction she didn’t mind. She tried to turn her daughter’s attention to the arts but Dora had very little patience for that sort of thing. Maybe this would be a welcome change.