Narcissa was, no matter the engagement ring on her finger, a Black. She was loyal to her family, obviously. It had always been a bitter, but undeniable, truth that her family had been absolutely destroyed by one headstrong daughter, one stubborn, cruel choice to kick the most important people to the curb in favour of some... Muggle. Some things were unforgiveable. Andromeda was unforgivable. If you turned your back on your family, then why should your abandoned family ever care about you?
And she didn't. She really didn't. It was just curiosity, that was all. Call it a hobby. Call it an exercise in reassuring herself that Andromeda was getting her just desserts. Obviously, it was important to know where Andromeda was, with all the Black family secrets. Obviously, it was a salutary lesson to see Andromeda and her horrible little Muggle man struggling in the squalor of less magical society, cut off from all the things that made life comfortable, like house-elves and money and connections. Obviously, that was all. She didn't need to see Andromeda, or the halfblood baby. She didn't need to satisfy herself that Andi was all right. She just... had a hobby.
And that was why the youngest daughter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black slipped away sometime during the summer holidays, and why she was sitting in a little café on a Muggle street, carefully settled by a window with a good line of sight. She wasn't at all as inconspicuous as she might have liked to be - Narcissa Black was nothing if not eyecatching, and it wasn't helped by the fact that her idea of subtle Muggle attire was a wide-brimmed hat and a body-hugging gown. Still, she was extremely good at ignoring people when they were inconvenient, especially ones who weren't even wizards, and she was sipping a cup of tea, watching across the street and keeping her eyes on the pram as it moved down the street, when she realised that she'd been spotted.
The problem with being in a Muggle street, she reflected while hurriedly trying to gather together her hat, handbag, and jacket, was that one couldn't just Disapparate. She grimaced, digging through her handbag for the Muggle money that she really didn't even like to handle, and hoped that she'd been imagining it. Maybe Andi hadn't seen her, after all.
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And she didn't. She really didn't. It was just curiosity, that was all. Call it a hobby. Call it an exercise in reassuring herself that Andromeda was getting her just desserts. Obviously, it was important to know where Andromeda was, with all the Black family secrets. Obviously, it was a salutary lesson to see Andromeda and her horrible little Muggle man struggling in the squalor of less magical society, cut off from all the things that made life comfortable, like house-elves and money and connections. Obviously, that was all. She didn't need to see Andromeda, or the halfblood baby. She didn't need to satisfy herself that Andi was all right. She just... had a hobby.
And that was why the youngest daughter of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black slipped away sometime during the summer holidays, and why she was sitting in a little café on a Muggle street, carefully settled by a window with a good line of sight. She wasn't at all as inconspicuous as she might have liked to be - Narcissa Black was nothing if not eyecatching, and it wasn't helped by the fact that her idea of subtle Muggle attire was a wide-brimmed hat and a body-hugging gown. Still, she was extremely good at ignoring people when they were inconvenient, especially ones who weren't even wizards, and she was sipping a cup of tea, watching across the street and keeping her eyes on the pram as it moved down the street, when she realised that she'd been spotted.
The problem with being in a Muggle street, she reflected while hurriedly trying to gather together her hat, handbag, and jacket, was that one couldn't just Disapparate. She grimaced, digging through her handbag for the Muggle money that she really didn't even like to handle, and hoped that she'd been imagining it. Maybe Andi hadn't seen her, after all.