Post by Deleted on May 12, 2014 17:57:08 GMT -8
November 1976 | BLACK FAMILY MANOR
The whole day felt surreal. Scratch that, every day since the death of Cygnus Black had felt surreal. When they first told Andromeda that her father had been killed, she had burst into a fit of laughter. The bearers of the news had gaped at her as though she'd gone mad, but they did not understand. Her father had nearly convinced her that he was invincible, that she would absolutely never be free of him. And just like that— with no rhyme or reason — he had turned up dead. It was a bad joke, but Dromeda could not help laughing. In one random act of fate, she had been liberated from her chains. But it would not do to cackle today, nor even smile unless it were a brave façade against grief. For today was the funeral. A day that should have brought reconciliation of her emotions only made the whole thing seem more astonishing. Andy felt as though she were walking through a dream. Everywhere she looked, there were flowers. Great displays of roses, chrysanthemums, and lilies filled the ground floor rooms and spilled outside into the courtyard where the ceremony would take place. The red and white blossoms looked exquisite in the snow. It was not real, and yet it was happening.
Andromeda examined at herself in the hall mirror. Her black lace dress was refined, not ostentatious. Now, if only she could get her expression to appear equally appropriate for the occasion. There was a long black veil with which she might hide her face, but that was just for emergencies; in case she felt her composure slipping. The guests would assume she hid her face from grief, not mirth, and thus she would maintain a respectable image. For the moment, though, the veil covered only her hair. She hoped to keep it that way as long as possible. She wiped the smile from her face and forced on a more afflicted expression. That was better. Andromeda would play her little part like a proper Black, no matter if the whole affair was a farce. For whatever her feelings were for father, Andy still clung to some deep-seated sense of loyalty to the family name and her sisters. Dear Narcissa was undone by grief, and Bellatrix would be pleased to see Dromeda make an effort at propriety. Those reasons were enough to hide her elation.
The entry hall was empty apart from herself, and Andy wondered whether Bella was having a hard time getting Cissa downstairs. She had already roused their mother from her drunken stupor — or more correctly, Dromeda had expelled Druella from her room. The stupor still remained. She had asked one of the elves to escort her to a seat outside. The less the guests saw of her, the better. But with mother sorted out, Andy was left to greet the mourners on her own. Only two people had arrived so far, but she rather hoped her sisters would soon appear to share the burden. She wasn't sure how many sympathies she could accept before she cracked a grin. Just imagine the rumors that would fly if she was caught beaming at the funeral! She was determined not to be the cause of scandal; the family had enough of that as it was. She had already heard it whispered that her older sister had murdered their father. She didn't believe it for one moment, but neither did she want to add herself to such vicious gossip. Really, the sooner they could all move on, the better. Narcissa would be back to her old self, Bellatrix would bask in her newfound position of power, and Andromeda hoped she'd be left to her own affairs, for once in her life.
TAG BELLATRIX PROSERPINA BLACK | @narcissablack
The whole day felt surreal. Scratch that, every day since the death of Cygnus Black had felt surreal. When they first told Andromeda that her father had been killed, she had burst into a fit of laughter. The bearers of the news had gaped at her as though she'd gone mad, but they did not understand. Her father had nearly convinced her that he was invincible, that she would absolutely never be free of him. And just like that— with no rhyme or reason — he had turned up dead. It was a bad joke, but Dromeda could not help laughing. In one random act of fate, she had been liberated from her chains. But it would not do to cackle today, nor even smile unless it were a brave façade against grief. For today was the funeral. A day that should have brought reconciliation of her emotions only made the whole thing seem more astonishing. Andy felt as though she were walking through a dream. Everywhere she looked, there were flowers. Great displays of roses, chrysanthemums, and lilies filled the ground floor rooms and spilled outside into the courtyard where the ceremony would take place. The red and white blossoms looked exquisite in the snow. It was not real, and yet it was happening.
Andromeda examined at herself in the hall mirror. Her black lace dress was refined, not ostentatious. Now, if only she could get her expression to appear equally appropriate for the occasion. There was a long black veil with which she might hide her face, but that was just for emergencies; in case she felt her composure slipping. The guests would assume she hid her face from grief, not mirth, and thus she would maintain a respectable image. For the moment, though, the veil covered only her hair. She hoped to keep it that way as long as possible. She wiped the smile from her face and forced on a more afflicted expression. That was better. Andromeda would play her little part like a proper Black, no matter if the whole affair was a farce. For whatever her feelings were for father, Andy still clung to some deep-seated sense of loyalty to the family name and her sisters. Dear Narcissa was undone by grief, and Bellatrix would be pleased to see Dromeda make an effort at propriety. Those reasons were enough to hide her elation.
The entry hall was empty apart from herself, and Andy wondered whether Bella was having a hard time getting Cissa downstairs. She had already roused their mother from her drunken stupor — or more correctly, Dromeda had expelled Druella from her room. The stupor still remained. She had asked one of the elves to escort her to a seat outside. The less the guests saw of her, the better. But with mother sorted out, Andy was left to greet the mourners on her own. Only two people had arrived so far, but she rather hoped her sisters would soon appear to share the burden. She wasn't sure how many sympathies she could accept before she cracked a grin. Just imagine the rumors that would fly if she was caught beaming at the funeral! She was determined not to be the cause of scandal; the family had enough of that as it was. She had already heard it whispered that her older sister had murdered their father. She didn't believe it for one moment, but neither did she want to add herself to such vicious gossip. Really, the sooner they could all move on, the better. Narcissa would be back to her old self, Bellatrix would bask in her newfound position of power, and Andromeda hoped she'd be left to her own affairs, for once in her life.
TAG BELLATRIX PROSERPINA BLACK | @narcissablack
