The next time they sat for the portrait, Cygnus wouldn't come.

"He's got some work to do," Druella said, smiling brightly with her lipsticked mouth. "I'm sure it won't make any difference."

Mr Fawley coughed. "Not at all," he said. "I can add him in later."

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"I wish the portrait could get finished soon," Narcissa said glumly, when they were pulling off their gloves and fancy ribbons. "I hate sitting still for two hours."

"So do I, but Mother says it has to be done," Andromeda said, carefully folding her gloves as Narcissa winced.

"You're pulling those out too roughly. Come here."

Andromeda carefully unravelled Narcissa's golden plaits, pulling the pink ribbons out so wavy hair tumbled around her shoulders.

Narcissa looked at herself in the large mirror, and touched her golden locks wistfully. "Will you do my hair like the lady did Mother's for the Malfoy's party?"

Andromeda hesitated. "I can try."

Her trying wasn't very successful. Narcissa's hair ended up less of an elegant twist and more of a messy lump.

"That's not how it was at all," Narcissa said, as she looked in the mirror.

"Well I'm sorry," Andromeda said, stung. "I tried my best."

Narcissa sighed. "I just want to be like Mother, Andy. Do you think she'd like me better if I looked more like her?"

Andromeda ruffled her messy hair. "You look like her anyway, Cissy. Besides, she likes you best, you know she does."

"Not anymore," she said glumly. "Bellatrix is her favourite now. And you're Father's favourite."

"No I'm not," she said in surprise. "Am I?"

"Yes, it's because you're clever. He always calls me an airhead."

"Don't listen to him," Andromeda said, and she hugged her fiercely. "You're my favourite, Cissy," she whispered to her. "But don't tell Bellatrix."

"I don't like Bella anymore anyway," she whispered back. "She's gone all funny."

"Yes," she said sadly. "Yes she has."

Andromeda reached for her cloak, then realised she had left it in the drawing room. She went downstairs and towards the half open door, then stopped. Druella was still in there, and so was Mr Fawley. They were standing very close, and as she watched, Mr Fawley murmured something to Druella, who laughed.

The floorboard under Andromeda's foot creaked, and they both looked up sharply as she entered. Druella stepped away from Mr Fawley, her pale cheeks turning rather pink.

"What are you doing creeping around like that, Andromeda? Mr Fawley and I are having an adult conversation."

"Yes Mother," she said awkwardly. "I just left my cloak in here."

She retrieved it quickly and scurried from the room, worried she had interrupted something important and her mother would scold her later. But Druella never mentioned the incident again.

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Narcissa turned eight the week after. They never got any birthday presents, anyway, but Andromeda knew what she wanted more than anything. Their aunt Millicent had a huge collection of dolls, not little girl ones but display ones, with perfect porcelain faces and real silk gowns, along with rosy red lips and soft curls. She kept them all locked in a big case, and sometimes Narcissa stared at them for so long, pressed right up to glass, that there was often a little ghostly outline of herself left when she was finally pulled away.

Andromeda didn't have a clue where you could buy dolls like that, and anyway they never got pocket money or the opportunity to buy anything at all. So instead she stitched a doll out of cloth, using old wool as hair and buttons for eyes. She spent extra long on the outfits, designing them all herself, dresses and nightgowns and even little shoes. She was clumsy with the tiny stitching, but Bellatrix helped her, and her older sister even spent time on things like little handkerchiefs.

"So she can blow her nose," she said, making the doll sneeze into the tiny handkerchief.

Narcissa's eyes were wide.

"Do you like her?" Andromeda asked, biting her nail. "I know she's not as good as a proper doll."

"She's even got knickers," Narcissa giggled, scandalised. "Bella made her knickers!"

"Well, she's got to wear something under those skirts," Bellatrix told her. "She'll catch a chill."

"You must keep her hidden, though," Andromeda pressed. "You know Mother will throw her away."

"I will! Oh Andy, I love her!"

She was uncreative with names, suggesting things like Dolly or even Andromeda.

"So there's big Andy and small Andy," she laughed, making her kiss Andromeda's cheek with her little felt mouth.

"No, no, let's give her her own proper name," Andromeda said. She suggested pretty names she'd read in books, like Louisa and Marlena, but Bellatrix laughed at her.

"Don't give her a stupid name like that. What if she was a star like us? Like....Cassiopeia."

"Cassie for short!" Narcissa said in excitement.

Thankfully they heard the sound of their mother's heels before she appeared, and they quickly bundled the doll and all her outfits under the bed.

When the door opened, they were all sitting innocently on the floor.

"What are you all doing in here?" Druella asked. "Get up off the floor, you'll get all grubby. I need you all to change quickly. We're having guests."

Narcissa jumped up happily. "For my birthday?"

Druella hesitated. "Partly," she said at last. "Wear your new dresses, girls."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵　　‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The guests were mostly family, but also with some of their parent's friends. According to Bellatrix, they were technically family too. She said that all the pureblood families were connected somehow. Andromeda imagined the golden lines on the family tapestry stretching between everyone in the hall, and when she greeted people at the door, she looked at them carefully in case they bore any resemblance.

"Stop staring at everyone, Andromeda," her mother hissed. "You look braindead. And keep your mouth shut. This is important."

Andromeda licked her dry lips. "The Dark Lord isn't coming, is he, Mother?"

"No," she said, eyes on her reflection and smoothing her hair. "No, not tonight."

Andromeda turned to a man who had just walked in the front door, and recognised him. It was the artist, Mr Fawley. He was out of his shabby clothes and wore a set of black dress robes that looked very well with his green eyes.

"Mrs Black," he said to Druella, bowing low. "It is a pleasure."

Just inside the door, Andromeda thought she saw Cygnus' face flicker with annoyance, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

As most of the guests had already come in, she went to sit at the children's table, but her stomach churned and she couldn't concentrate on eating. She knew her parents would probably fight later, and she didn't understand why her mother had invited Mr Fawley anyway, especially when she knew Cygnus would be irritated. She thought that her father was definitely her favourite parent. She barely saw him outside of their lessons, but at least he didn't scold and tease like her mother did. Andromeda poked at her food, even desert, which was her favourite.

"You can have it," she told Narcissa, who took it, but looked concerned. "But you love bread and butter pudding, Andy."

"I don't feel like it," she said honestly.

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She was right about the argument. Nobody had bothered with a charm and they could hear the row that night, when all the guests had left.