A cloaked figure stepped out of the carriage, pulled by two winged, black horse-like beasts. The woman the fur cloak concealed held the hood in place, so as not to allow the winter wind to reveal her face to any who may be lurking nearby. She handed the carriage driver several Galleons in payment for the journey, and patted the nearest Thestral, thanking it as well for its service. She looked from side to side, making sure no one else, Muggle or wizard, was there to see her. Despite her destination being surrounded only by gentle hills; the houses spaced quite apart, she had learned recently that one could never be too careful.

She knocked on the door of the small house before her, and a kindly woman with light brown hair soon appeared in the doorway.

"Cissy…" the woman addressed her visitor with a smile.

Though they had been exchanging letters for several months now, this marked the first time Narcissa and Andromeda had seen one another since the Great Hall after Voldemort's defeat – and that had only been in passing. Narcissa found it hard to speak. The war had clearly aged her older sister, but her compassionate smile and gentle voice was exactly the same as Narcissa remembered them.

"Come in, now, you must be freezing! I've got some tea on the stove. I'll go pour you a cup; it'll just be a moment. Please, make yourself at home."

Though a bit surprised at this enthusiastic greeting, Narcissa stepped almost shyly into the living room and shut the door behind her. She lowered the hood of her cloak and took in her surroundings. There was no magic at work here; it was most certainly the same size inside as it appeared on the outside. On the wall at the far right of the room was a fireplace, and she immediately noticed a good number of photos on the mantle, their frames without a speck of dust on them. She stepped closer to see them. From the photos, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks smiled and waved. Remus Lupin held a grinning baby boy. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood close, their arms linked. When she heard Andromeda's returning footsteps, Narcissa averted her eyes. She felt guilty just looking at these photos of the people her sister held dear, many of them now deceased, her husband and daughter among them, and it was all thanks to the wizard she and Lucius had supported for far too long. Narcissa's own problems, her very reason for visiting, suddenly seemed miniscule and petty in comparison.

"Here you are," she said, handing one teacup to Narcissa. "Have a seat."

Narcissa did as she was told and sat down on the sofa nearest the fire, her sister across from her, her own teacup in hand.

"A-Andromeda…" she managed to begin. Her eyes darted quickly to the photos and back again to her lap. "I'm sorry this is how we ended up meeting. Because of my—Er, because of these…circumstances."

She shook her head. "Nonsense. What kind of person would I be if I wasn't there for my baby sister when she needed me?"

Narcissa kept her head down and bit her lip. If she had had any tears left to cry after the previous day, she was certain they would have begun to fall as soon as the word's left her sister's lips. She herself had hardly said a word in Andromeda's defense so many years ago.

"It's good to see you again, Cissy," she assured her, "circumstances be damned."

Narcissa's gaze flickered up at this, where Andromeda's infinitely patient one was waiting to catch it. There was no going back now, and Narcissa resigned herself to that fact. "…It's good to see you too, Dromeda. Truly."

A small silence passed, with Narcissa unsure of what to say and Andromeda giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew that as soon as she started speaking, the words would come like a torrential rain. They wouldn't stop until she'd told Andromeda absolutely everything, about Lucius, about Rita, about her own related fears.

"You don't need to try and skirt around it," Andromeda said with a small chuckle. "Tell me what you said you couldn't on paper."

Another beat of silence. And then Narcissa could no longer hold back. "Andromeda, I don't know what to do," she said desperately. "Lucius, and the paper and the articles in the magazines –I don't even know if you've seen- and-"

"Why don't you start from the beginning, Cissy? Just so I can understand a little better."

So start from the beginning she did, giving her sister every detail from Lucius's initial thoughts on raising another baby, to the ugly argument of the morning before.

"I haven't so much as seen him since then," she said sadly. "I don't think either of us even slept in our own bedroom last night, for fear the other would be there. I didn't, at least, and knowing Lucius, he… Oh, Dromeda, I was an idiot. He and I both were. I wish I could take it all back! I don't know what I'd do if he… If he did something regrettable because of what happened." If he started drinking again like he did when he was so upset before, she wanted to say, but feared that if the words left her mouth they would somehow come to pass.

Andromeda sipped her tea quietly. "That's certainly quite a lot to deal with, particularly in such a small amount of time," she agreed. "And I must say I'm curious as to how Rita might've gotten her hands on that information as well."

Narcissa fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat.

"But I'm almost certain it wasn't Lucius's fault, Cissy, not this time. I may not know him as you do, but if what you've told me in your letters and what little I've seen of the two of you over the years, I do know that he loves you."

"I-I know that, I—"

"And I would hope," she continued without regard for the interruption, "that because he loves you he might give a bit of extra thought before turning to the bottle again," she said, understanding and voicing what Narcissa had wished she was brave enough to. "I'm not saying he will or won't, but I'd bet you anything he wants you to forgive him for what he said just as much as you want his forgiveness, Cissy, and I think he knows turning to his firewhiskey isn't the way to achieve that."

She paused a moment, letting her words sink in.

"What you need to do is talk to him. Right now, that's absolutely the most important thing. Believe me, I'm no stranger to arguments; it happened to Ted and me as well, at times, and we always made it through. Please don't let this drive you apart any more than it already has. Neither of you deserves that, especially not when you're pregnant, of all times; when you should be able to have one another to rely on for support."

"And…If he's not interested in speaking with me just yet…?"

"I would hope that's not the case! He does, after all, owe you an apology as well. If he does decide to continue acting like a child and refuse, he can at least listen. Tell him what you need him to hear."

Narcissa looked doubtful still.

Andromeda gave a small sigh. "As I said, I may not know him, but I think I know his type. I'm going to venture a guess and say he tries to solve most everything on his own, feels weak accepting help, and doesn't like acknowledging his problems for what they are?"

The younger woman couldn't help but smile a little. Andromeda was spot on. "That sounds like him, all right."

"And that, my dear, is why you need to take the initiative. If you don't, Merlin only knows how long this'll go on!"

Narcissa nodded. "…I guess deep down I already knew that's what had to be done," she said quietly, embarrassed now, "though I didn't really want to think about doing it just yet. A-and on top of that I had to go and bother you about it when you've surely got enough to deal with…"

"Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else. Besides, I w-"

The sound of a child crying drew their attention abruptly from the conversation.

Andromeda looked at her sister apologetically. "Little Teddy," she explained. "He was napping so quietly; I'm sorry I have to tend to him now." She shot her a glance, as if to remind her what she had to look forward to.

"A-Andromeda…!" Narcissa called before her sister disappeared from sight down the hall. "Do you think I could…Meet him, perhaps? Your grandson?"

"Certainly, Cissy. Right when I can calm him down," she said, smiling softly at her sister's request. Just a few months ago she never would have imagined, even in her wildest dreams, that Narcissa would want see, let alone meet, her blood traitor elder sister's 'half-breed grandson,' as the former Narcissa would have likely referred to him.

Andromeda returned some time later with a slightly chubby little boy in her arms, his hair a bright, shocking purple. "I'm afraid he gravitates towards the same hair colors as his mother did, even at this age!" she said with a laugh. This time, she sat next to Narcissa, situating Teddy on her lap.

"I don't know, I think it suits him," she affirmed. "At least, it suits those bright eyes of his!"

This elicited a laugh from the child, much to Narcissa's delight. "And this, my dear," Andromeda said, addressing him, "is your ever-charming Aunt Narcissa. Aunt Narcissa, meet Theodore Lupin."

"It's a pleasure. May I…?" she asked, looking up at Andromeda. Wordlessly, she handed him to Narcissa to hold.

She smiled at him, as the little one met her eyes. When she had first gotten word that Andromeda had become a grandmother, she had never thought she'd see the day when she'd get to meet the boy herself. She wasn't even sure she'd want to meet him then.

As Narcissa spoke to the boy, promising to be the best Auntie a descendant of the Black family had ever had, among other kind words, Andromeda looked on quietly. Her sister truly was a natural fit as a mother, she thought, and the more she saw the more she was convinced. Though she couldn't speak for Lucius and his part as a father, she knew for certain their child would, at the very least, be shown nothing but love at Malfoy Manor.

"Now I'm sure Grandma's getting a bit lonely without a man like you in her arms," Narcissa said to Teddy after a bit, gently giving him back to Andromeda who smiled at her sister's humor.

"As I was saying before…" she started, her tone taking on its former seriousness. "I know it's never easy, I really do, but it's no less difficult for him. And let's face it –You're typically the stronger of the two of you when it comes to this sort of thing, aren't you?"

"…In general, I suppose."

"Then that's another reason why I think it needs to be you that take the initiative here. It might lead to fewer complications, no?"

Thinking back to their previous disagreements, she realized Andromeda was right. "Yes, that's probably so."

"Cissy, please write me once you speak to him. I'll be worried for you two until you do," she said with a small smile.

"I will," Narcissa promised.

"And do keep me updated as well, all right?"

"I will," she agreed again. She bit her lip as she had when their conversation began, her eyes leaving Andromeda's momentarily. Her mind was awash with all the things she wanted to say to the other woman, so many things she had no idea how to say or even where to begin. She wanted to apologize for all the years she spent allowing her status in society to take precedence over her family; offer her condolences for the loss of her husband and daughter in the war; ask if Andromeda still held any contempt for her and everything she'd done. Narcissa shook her head and did her best to look positive. "I…" she began, stealing one last glance at the array of photos on the fireplace mantle. "I should be on my way."

"Are you sure? If you've got something more to say, I'll gladly listen, Narcissa." "…Y-yes, I'm sure. I've taken enough of your time, and the sooner I talk to Lucius the better."

Andromeda looked at her sister. Ever since they were small, Narcissa was unable to lie to her, and she now saw that that had not changed a bit in the twenty-five or so years they'd been apart. She wouldn't push it, however – Narcissa had quite enough to deal with for the time being, and anything she wished to share, she would surely share when she was ready. "In that case, it's been an absolutely pleasure to see you, Narcissa," she said as she stood.

"You too, Andromeda, truly. And you as well, of course, Teddy," she said with a smile, addressing the child her sister held who returned the gesture.

"Maybe we could do it again sometime; meet up like this…?"

"Absolutely. And under better circumstances, I hope." Narcissa moved towards the door, adjusting her cloak. "But I really have to thank you again, for all of this. I don't know what I'd have done if I didn't have someone like you to talk to."

"I'll always be here for you when you need me," she assured her.

"…And I for you."

They said their final goodbyes, and Narcissa exited into the cold to summon the carriage that brought her.

Meanwhile, The Leaky Cauldron

Lucius sat down at the bar with a sigh. After having not spoken to Narcissa for a day, he couldn't stand simply staying at the manor spending his time and thoughts regretting what he said to her. He had to do something, go somewhere to try and get himself to stop thinking about it.

"Mr. Malfoy! It sure has been awhile since I've seen you around here," the bartender on duty mused. "What'll it be today?"

"Just a fi—" he paused before he could finish the thought. His goal was to find a way to apologize to Narcissa, not to hurt her again by coming home a mess. Just one, though… A single glass would surely be fine, given the circumstances, wouldn't it? Not even Narcissa could possibly fault him for that, could she? "Firewhiskey," he said, attempting to put on an air of confidence.

The bartender nodded and couldn't help but smirk as he prepared Lucius's usual beverage of choice from when he'd frequented the pub in the years past. Mr. Malfoy was nothing if not consistent.

Lucius sipped his drink as he found himself going over the incident of yesterday morning once more. Though he wouldn't say Narcissa wasn't being ridiculous with her claims, that was indeed her only real crime. He was sure that, had he not lost his own temper, he would've simply given her an hour or two to calm down and they would've been able to talk about it rationally and reconcile easily. Though a good number of them came to mind, Lucius refused to give himself an excuse.

As he ruminated, he felt a strangely familiar presence take shape on his left as it approached the bar.

"Lucius, my boy!" the jovial voice exclaimed. "I thought that was you! What a surprise to see you here!"

"Horace," Lucius acknowledged his former professor. "Shouldn't you be teaching right now…?"

"Oh, I've just got the next two hours or so free is all. You, on the other hand…" Slughorn made a show of leaning back to examine the empty seat on Lucius's other side. "Your lovely wife isn't with you today? What, did she leave you here to do some shopping for the little one?" he said with a chuckle.

"If only that were the case," he said with a shake of his head.

Slughorn needed only to hear the tone of Lucius's voice to understand immediately. "Tell me all about it," he exhorted. "Whatever it was, I can almost guarantee it's happened to me as well – years ago, maybe, but happened nonetheless!"

With a sigh, Lucius resigned himself. Evading Slughorn at this point would require an effort he wasn't sure he wanted to put in, and besides, perhaps just explaining what had happened to someone else would be enough to help him find a way to put it right, or if nothing else, out of mind.

And so, he drained his glass and relayed to the Professor his side of the story, starting with their public announcement and filling in background details as necessary. He did, of course, fail to mention several events such as the last time Narcissa had found him drinking. Though he trusted Slughorn, there was no reason for him to share every detail.

After hearing this, Horace motioned to the bartender for a round of firewhiskeys for the both of them. Lucius tried to object, but was stopped by the older man holding up a hand. "No, no, this one is on me," he said, assuming that to be the root of his protests. "You deserve it." He paused to savor a sip when he received his glass and Lucius's was refilled. "Though I myself am not a father, I've certainly heard tell – pregnant wives are never easy ones to deal with! Doubly so when you get caught in a series of events like yours, I'm sure."

"I don't know what I should do, to be quite honest. Apologize to her, obviously, but to do that when we're not exactly on speaking terms… Not to mention the fact that I think I ought to get an apology as well…!"

"And you most certainly should. It takes two to tango, after all! But you're her husband, my boy. It's your duty to take care of her, especially now, when she's expecting. That's what you signed on for those twenty-or-so years ago you made your vows."

Lucius sighed inwardly at this, taking a large drink.

"If taking care of her means confronting her about this, then I'd say its part of your commitment to her to do just that."

Lucius leaned against his head against his right hand, his drink in his left.

"Marriage isn't an easy occupation," Slughorn chuckled. "I'd say you've been quite blessed to have had such a smooth time of yours." When Lucius gave him a severely annoyed look, he continued. "Oh no, just think about it! Ever since your Hogwarts days, you and Narcissa rarely got into arguments and hardly ever let your misunderstandings get the better of you. That, my boy, is more than can be said for most."

He had a point, Lucius thought. The last time they'd been so scathing towards one another was last year – and the fact that war was being conducted in their very home played a very big role in that.

"All I'm saying is that Narcissa's a mess of hormones, and it'd just be right for you to make the first move in fixing this mess. And if she tries to do the same, be receptive. You owe it to the both of you."

"You make it sound easy, Horace," he said with a shake of his head and a small laugh of his own. He finished off his second glass of firewhiskey.

"You've suffered through worse. And besides, she surely wants everything to be back to normal just as much as you do."

He reluctantly nodded his agreement. He needed another refill.

"I'm sure everything will go just fine," the professor assured him with a pat on the back. "I, however, must be going – I ought to try and sneak back into the castle before our dear Headmistress knows I've strayed so far!"

He stood, placing enough gold on the table for both his drink and two for Lucius, motioning at the bartender to pour him one more glass. With a wink, he said a last farewell to Lucius, and left the bar.

Lucius, left on his own with much to think about, stared down at the glass in front of him. He'd be fine having just one more, and he didn't care to waste someone else's money, he reasoned. He'd simply stay at the Leaky Cauldron a bit longer than he'd planned and wait it out if he happened to feel any effects from it.

Lucius raised the glass to his lips once more.