Chapter Five

Ted,

Andromeda

Ted read the letter through twice and chuckled, resisting the urge to count the number of words in each sentence. He could take a fairly shrewd guess as to what was going through Andromeda’s mind. Having now had time to consider, she had decided that writing to Ted would not be a good idea, and was therefore writing at her most cold and formal. He wrote back quickly, his cramped writing looking strange to him after his long scrutiny of Andromeda’s round hand.

Dear Andromeda,

PS: Please don’t ignore what I’m saying purely out of stubbornness.

Andromeda was not at all pleased to receive this letter. She had had the vague suspicion that Ted would ignore the fact that she was plainly unenthusiastic about continuing a correspondence, but had managed to squash it until, upon her reception of this letter, it became neither vague nor a suspicion, but a fact. In addition to this, he had seen right through her to the person falling apart inside, which she thought was completely unfair. If people who didn’t matter could be fooled by her, why should someone who...? Except that he didn’t matter either. She decided not to reply.

Dear Andromeda,

Ted

Severely nettled by the concluding sentence, Andromeda swiftly and angrily wrote a response and waited impatiently until her owl, unused to much activity recently, could be persuaded to take it.

Ted,

Andromeda

Some days later, Narcissa entered her sister’s room to find Andromeda staring out of the window.

“What are you looking for?”

“Nothing.”

Narcissa looked curiously around the cluttered room, which she had not entered for some weeks. “Where’s your owl?”

“Out.”

“With a letter?”

“Mmm.”

“Who to?”

“No one.”

“How can a letter—”

“Narcissa, what do you want?”

“Mother said come and see what you were doing.”

Andromeda turned to look at her. No one had disturbed her in several days, with the exception of a house-elf who left meals outside her door and then fled, apparently fearful that she would be caught by Andromeda, although what exactly she expected to happen then was debatable. Probably she didn’t know either; as a house-elf in the Black house, she would be unused to anyone not bothering to at least pretend that all was well. The whole family was well versed in what was expected of them.

“What are you going to say to her?”

“That you were staring out of the window waiting for a letter, but wouldn’t tell me who from.”

“Narcissa!”

“Well, it’s true.”

“It is not. I’m just looking out of the window. I don’t really care whether I get a letter or not, I’m not waiting for one, and if I was, it wouldn’t make a difference to Mother, and I don’t even want a letter, and—”

“Who’s the letter from?”

“There is no letter.”

“What shall I tell Mother then?”

“That I was looking out of the window.”

“Who’s the letter from?” repeated Narcissa, with the slightly smug smile of one who suspects that she is winning an argument. She was certainly incensing Andromeda.

“There. Is. No. Letter.”

“Then what shall I tell Mother?”

“Narcissa, for goodness sake, go away and leave me alone. Tell Mother that I’m looking out of the window. I don’t see what about my looking out of the window is so interesting to you.”

“Who’s the letter from?”

“Narcissa, get out.” Andromeda stood up, plainly intending to personally remove Narcissa if she did not leave in the next few seconds. Her sister accordingly exited hastily, leaving her wondering whether telling Narcissa about her letter to Ted would not after all have been better than having her mother told that she was waiting for a mysterious letter. There again, as her letter to Ted had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that she was looking out of the window, it was not really a relevant detail.