Disclaimer: I am rightfully entitled to absolutely no part of the Harry Potter series.

Summary: "Gryffindors are brave, Siri." Andromeda, her heart belonging to both a badger and a snake, comforts the Black family's lion cub when he is most vulnerable.

A/N: Written circa July 2011, shortly after the U.S. premiere of Deathly Hallows Part 2. I decided to go ahead and release this before I leave for study abroad. Hope you all enjoy! And please, R&R.

~Sirius Black, Baby Simba~

I.

The young aristocrat was trembling. His heart was beating rapidly, threatening to escape the confines of his chest. Futile were his efforts to hold onto his wooden seat more securely, as his small, shaking palms were drenched in sweat.

The old, tattered hat was taking much longer than expected. No—that wasn't exactly an accurate way of describing the gravity of the situation.

Rather, the old, tattered hat actually seemed to be studying him quite intently, as if he belonged in a House other than Salazar Slytherin's. True, he wasn't exactly the stereotypical Black. He didn't agree with the political ideology his parents' subscribed to and he wasn't obsessed with the purity of his own blood, as was his cousin, Bellatrix.

But, this…this was extraordinary.

And not the good kind of extraordinary, mind you.

Then, without a moment's notice, it happened.

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat declared to all those assembled in the Great Hall.

Sirius felt all the air being sucked from his world. He felt as though he'd just been hit with a bludger. The black haired witch, McGonagall, looked at him interestedly—her gaze saturated with astonishment and...was that confusion?

Yes. Naturally.

Sirius was unsure if his ears had registered the word correctly. So, he hesitated, pale hands grasping for the edges of the ceremonial stool. He knew he couldn't stay there forever, and when McGonagall removed the hat, he stood.

Lots of people were clapping—teachers, the Headmaster, students at almost every table. Their gestures provided him with new life as he stared, wide-eyed, at the joyous scene before him.

Before descending the steps, Sirius spared a glance over at the Slytherin table. The table where all his family had sat—ancestors, cousins, parents. Narcissa was frozen. Her signature sapphire eyes burned navy, a testament to her indignation.

There were mixed reactions among the other Slytherins. Some whispered frantically among themselves, while others merely stared at him in amazement.

Andromeda was clapping, though, a polished prefect's badge glimmering on her chest.

She was the only Slytherin clapping.

She's always the one in his corner, defending his honor against his parents' onslaughts of how he, unjustifiably, distressed them.

She's forever the one greeting reprimand like an old friend when her parents and sisters hiss—like the snakes they are—in every sense of the word—that she should be more concerned with N.E.W.T.s than a boy only slightly removed from being half her age.

Sirius knows that Andromeda would catch hell from Rosier and Lestrange in the common room. He knew that Narcissa would never let her live this down.

But the silent "I love you" her lips just formed gave him all the reassurance in the world as he ran eagerly over to the Gryffindor table, skidding into an empty seat beside James Potter.

II.

"Oh my goodness, Andromeda, that diamond is HUGE!" Narcissa shrieked over breakfast the next morning, pale blonde hair dancing beside her face in excitement as her eyes took in the diamond on her sister's finger. "Mother and Father are going to be so pleased! And Bella will—Andy, are you listening to me?"

Andromeda heard her sister's squeals, but had no time to actually listen to her. Her brown eyes were fixated on a scene all others seemed to be ignoring. Lucius Malfoy stood in between two first year boys, either hand placed firmly onto their chests, separating them. One was an unkempt Slytherin with greasy hair and sallow skin, the other a Gryffindor with curly black hair and dark grey eyes. If this was Malfoy's attempt at dispelling an argument, the blonde had failed miserably. The squabbling continued and Andromeda read the boy's lips. If Walburga had heard the language Sirius elected to use, he would have been dead and buried in an instant. Unfamiliar with the other's upbringing, Andromeda reserved judgment on him.

Narcissa hadn't stopped talking, but Andromeda continued to ignore her. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Black, for your unfortunate ability of instigating." Malfoy snarled. Sirius's cheeks flushed crimson as he stormed off. The prefect sneered before saying, quite lazily, "Off you go, Snape" to the smug-looking boy.

"I'm listening, Cissy." She replied, still highly peeved at the scene. Lying, at least, helped suppress her urge to snap Lucius Malfoy's neck in two for such ill treatment of her cousin.

"Don't belittle my intelligence with your lies, Andy." Narcissa admonished, the color high in her cheeks. Andromeda acknowledged her tone as a flawless impersonation of their mother's. It's not that Narcissa was deliberately trying to channel Druella's energy, but lately, she'd just taken to voicing the first thought her mind conceived. "Use it with your children if you must, when you and Antonin—Andromeda? Andromeda?"

Andromeda made a foreign noise, one that was both uncharacteristic and unladylike. Narcissa wondered what she'd said or done to offend her sister as she swept from the Great Hall, much faster than Druella would ever condone.

"Evan," she began, elbowing her Rosier cousin who could've passed for her twin, "Did Andromeda just growl at me?"

III.

"We can't keep doing this," she breathed against him. "Not in public, I mean."

"Shh, love," he silenced her, accent heavy. "We can. It's our world."

The September night was a chilly one, chiller than usual, it should be said. But she was immune to the breeze. His warm lips revoked the cold, casting warmth throughout her body.

If not for the night's rounds, if not for the pesky first years roaming about the castle after hours, she'd have been in bed asleep.

And of course, if not for a certain Antonin Dolohov.

They were standing in the Viaduct Courtyard, Andromeda with her back against the stone bricks of the castle as the dark haired wizard stood over her.

He chuckled slightly at his fiancée's deserted protests. But, granting her request, he pulled back slightly and whispered in her ear, "My mother will arrive from Russia at the conclusion of winter term. She thinks we make quite the alluring pair. Your light to my dark. Opposites."

Although speaking of hair color, he had no idea how true his words would ring in the coming years.

"And she's forever talking of her grandchildren…"

Andromeda closed her eyes. That notion was one of the last thoughts she was inclined to entertain. She moaned, perhaps a little too loudly.

Antonin smirked, interpreting this as one of pleasure; however, a certain Hufflepuff prefect was put off by it.

"Hey, Dolohov!" A voice called in the distance. The addressed, turned, startled, squinting in the darkness so as to determine who dared interrupt him.

Andromeda inhaled sharply as a fair haired, brown eyed Hufflepuff prefect strode towards them, anger carved into his features.

"Miss Black and I are a slated to attend to matters that don't concern you," He stated, teeth gritted.

"That funny, Tonks," Dolohov retorted, arms folded and voice cold. "I'll be saying the same to you in a year's time." Ted followed his gaze and when his eyes landed upon the engagement ring, he face afflicted with outrage and shock.

Andromeda, noticing this, knew to dispel the conflict before it escalated. "Antonin. Leave, yeah? I'll see you later."

"As you wish," he said sincerely before running kissing her once more, running a finger along her cheek as he did so, just to incense Ted.

Antonin threw the blonde a smug look before disappearing.

His laughs seemed to echo on forever.

"How long are you going to let this betrothal simmer?" Ted angrily spat once the Russian was out of sight and earshot. "You told me you were going to break it off!"

"Let it simmer?" She gawked, hitting him—more forcefully than intended—in the chest. "He only just proposed last night, and it's not like I refuse him! I told you I would do it, I told you to trust my judgment, but if you can't, then you can leave right now!" Andromeda screeched, stomping her foot as she could not contain her fury. She knew this outburst was terribly reflective of Bellatrix's, but she didn't care. The gall of him….

Ted furrowed his brow, looking at her for an eternity before dropping his gaze. "I don't want that," he reasoned, stuffing his hands in his robe pockets. "But I do think you should go—"

"What? Are you bloody—"

He cut her off with a slap of his hands. "Your cousin! He's in the library bawling his eyes out! Said to me, 'bugger off, mudblood' and—"

"He called you a mudblood?" Andromeda shrieked, frenzied now.

Ted gulped and took a step back from her. Andromeda knew she must have remarkably like Bellatrix in the dim light.

"Yeah," he sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I asked him what he was doing out of bed so late and he just lost it!"

She didn't wait around for further explanation, but Ted caught her arm before she could enter the castle. "Don't be too hard on him, Drom," he said sympathetically, tucking a strand of brunette hair behind her ear. "Take as long as you need. I'll stay up all night to cover for you if I have to."

Andromeda surveyed the Hufflepuff carefully before wrapping her arms around him.

"What, no kiss?" Ted asked in mock hurt.

"Ted, I taste like Dolohov." Andromeda replied simply as she played with his blonde locks.

"Point taken."

VI.

"Blacks don't cry, Siri."

Those were the words Andromeda had always preached; the words Sirius had adopted as his mantra.

But as hid in the dark library, legs pulled to his chest, those words fell on deaf ears. He sniffed, albeit reluctantly.

"I thought I might find you here," a voice spoke suddenly. Sirius jumped and barely stifled a yelp. The voice was husky, soothing. Normally, it comforted him. Now, he was extremely agitated by it.

"Lumos."

The light from Andromeda's wand illuminated his figure. She greeted his tear-soaked face with a pitying expression. It made Sirius's stomach burn as she knelt in front of him. Pity made him feel weak.

Any more weakness would surly destroy him.

She seemed to be contemplating what to say. Then, with a deep sigh, came the most absurd of questions. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Sirius looked at his cousin as though she had just grown a second head. Without a word, he ran a hand over the lion on his robes. Andromeda's eyes watched as he traced the emblem.

"You're lying. You're crying because of that Howler last night that nearly incinerated the Gryffindor common room."

"Andy, how did you—" Sirius's eyes flashed in the few remaining shadows.

"McGonagall. I overheard a conversation with Professor Dumbledore."

There was a very pregnant pause.

"Old hag." He finally spat, averting his eyes from his cousin's.

Andromeda smiled, despite herself. "Narcissa had no right to right to your mother, Sirius. I'll deal with her this weekend. But I want to know why you're really crying."

Sirius exhaled loudly, an eyebrow lifted in annoyance. "You don't know what it's like to be different, Andy. The Gryffndors…some of them hate me. One muggleborn boy told me that Bella nearly hexed his sister to death and as I'm her cousin I'd probably do the same to him."

"Is that why you called Ted Tonks a mudblood? Expelling your frustration on the next muggleborn to cross you?" Andromeda pressed gently.

Sirius stared at her for ages. "Yes," he choked out. He was too tired to lie. "But he was just so annoying—"

"I know. He has that…unfortunate quality. I too called him a mudblood when I first met him."

Sirius remained silent, unsure of whether she was telling the truth or only trying to lift his spirits.

"I'm not a racist, Andy."

"I know that, Sirius."

The two purebloods observed each other, Slytherin and Gryffindor, brown eyes and grey, before the witch broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I know how it feels to be different, Sirius," Andromeda stated as she wiped tears from the young boy's face. "Aren't I unlike my sisters? I didn't inherit mother's hair or eyes like Cissy. And Bella looks so much like father, with her black hair and grey eyes."

"But your hair is so much prettier than either of theirs," He protested, twirling a light brown lock tress in his fingers. She couldn't help but smile. "And your eyes are too. Dolohov loves them, but I think Ted loves them more—"

Andromeda's face drained of all color. "You think Ted loves my eyes?" She chucked, nervously, praying Sirius didn't know more than this.

Otherwise, she was doomed.

Spirits raised, he laughed for the first time that day. "Duh, Andy! When he looks at you…" Sirius frowned, deciding on the best phrase. "I mean…I'm surprised you haven't already burst into flames, the way he looks at you!"

Doomed. She was doomed.

"Listen," she said, voice now an octave higher in apprehension as she found a chair to sit in. She was desperate to change the subject. "Gryffindors are brave, Siri. Even if no one else is proud of you, I am. Just between you and me, tradition isn't everything. You broke it; you dared to be different; and I know you'll make Gryffindor House proud. Don't give Malfoy or that Snape boy a second thought."

Moments like these reminded Sirius of why Andromeda was his favorite cousin.

"Ouch, Sirius!" She cried out suddenly, for he had just pounced, unexpectedly, onto her lap.

"Sorry," he breathed, not meaning it in the slightest, grinning from ear to ear.

Amazing. The Black family charm had already begun to manifest itself.

Andromeda intended to make Sirius swear on his life not to breathe a word about Ted's existence to their family, but somehow she didn't think he would. No, something told her to keep her cool because the lion sought to enter to the snake den only when necessary.

"Andy?" Sirius sung after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

He snickered as humor frolicked in his eyes. "When are you and Dolohov getting married?"

If Sirius asked Narcissa of the likelihood that she and Lucius would, one day, be promised to one another, he could have been assured of a night spent in the library feigning entertainment as she droned on and on of how wonderful said person was.

Andromeda, sleep-deprived, simply gave him the best Black smirk she could muster as she ruffled his ebony hair.

"When Binns is able to keep a tenth of his students awake."

~Fin.~