Hey guys! This is a little one shot I did for The 2012 Hogwarts Games -Women's Tennis. It's supposed to be a piece on the black family. At first, it was only going to feature Andromeda, but somehow, Narcissa just... happened to appear. I know, I didn't do a very good job planning. To be honest, I didn't particularly know what I was trying for as I wrote this, but... ah, well. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, and leave me your thoughts in a review if you've got any!

Notes: Post-war, canon compliant, possibly a year after the war.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Andromeda had to wonder.

It wasn't a choice, really –not when Narcissa was standing all of twenty meters ahead of her. She ducked behind a bookshelf, wondering what her sister was even doing in public –well, this was a very low key bookshop, one that was, in its peak, sparsely occupied, but she'd thought the Malfoys had been doing a really commendable job of staying in their manor. They'd somehow also managed to pull one hell of an impressive hex over their ground, or so she overheard a young reporter, covered in boils and burns, telling someone over at St. Mungo's the other day.

Well, she couldn't really blame them. That was something she didn't need to wonder about –that the Malfoys did not want to be disturbed.

So she had to wonder, what was her sister –a Malfoy, with the snobby attitude to prove it –doing out and about Diagon Alley?

"I could ask you the same thing, really," Narcissa called over from where she stood. Andromeda looked over, and found her sister watching her with a knowing look. She cursed; she shouldn't have forgotten her sister was a skilled Legilimens. "The house does get stuffy, really, and who wouldn't want a bit of peace after the war? We did try to warn that poor snoop nicely, but he just wouldn't get the message."

Andromeda could, for a moment, only let her mouth flop open like a fish. "But –you're not talking to me?"

"Why, certainly, Andy," Narcissa replied, as though it was the most simple thing in the world. "I do seem to be conversing with you."

Andromeda stood rooted to the ground for a moment, wondering what had brought this change on. Narcissa, meanwhile, turned away and walked off. For a moment, Andromeda thought Narcissa was leaving, but then she saw her settle down in an armchair in the corner of the bookstore. Andromeda didn't know what she should do –it'd been so many, many years since she'd exchanged words with her sister, and here Narcissa was, presenting her with a chance simply to talk. She hesitated a while longer, but then crossed the room and sat down in the armchair opposite her blonde sister's.

She wondered what they could possibly talk about.

Narcissa broke the tense silence first. "Well, Andy, how have you been?"

For some reason, her words stirred up a furious, blind sense of irritation in Andromeda. "Nearly my entire family was obliterated at the hands of your demented lord, and you want to ask how I've been? Well, maybe I'll enlighten you, Cissy," she said, her voice low, "I've been doing as well as I could possibly do, with the knowledge that my family died fighting for something, while you just sat comfortably in your manor and probably had tea parties while the whole world was fighting for their bloody lives!"

She had to wonder where that outburst came from, but she'd have to ponder that later.

Narcissa met her eyes without a hitch. "That you see it that way is… regrettable," she said, in a way that clearly conveyed the word she wanted to use wasn't "regrettable", but something stronger.

Andromeda wondered what it was.

"This whole thing is regrettable, isn't it," she stated, resisting the urge to pull out her wand and hex her sister. Maybe she'd like to be on the receiving end of a Furnunculus.

"Well then, Andy," Narcissa said coolly, "perhaps we'll talk again in the future."

As Narcissa rose from her seat (with a grace Andromeda had never been able to obtain) and left the bookstore, Andromeda had to wonder what the confrontation had really ever been about.

If you were wondering, the Furnunculus is a curse that produces boils. It's cannon. Heh.

Hope you enjoyed the story!