Archive of Our Own ^beta

They say Blacks are cursed.

When Bellatrix was young, she liked to think it wouldn’t matter, because the family madness would get to her before she could get cursed.

When Andromeda was young, she liked to think it wasn’t that bad, because she was sure she’d be the only one who’d escape it.

When Narcissa was young, she liked to think it would be of no importance because, at least, they would all suffer it together.

But none of this was true.

Bellatrix is fifteen, Narcissa is eleven, and she’s trailing behind her big sister, all lost for her first time in the Hogwarts Express.

Bellatrix is the big sister. It’s a role she had for almost all of her life. After all, there’s less than a year between Andy and her. It has always been her role to take care. She had to take care of her sisters, because her parents weren’t any good at doing so, so who else would?

She had to, because they were her little sisters, and if she was fragile – imagine how much more fragile her two little sisters were? 

She had to, but she doesn’t think she ever has been good at that.

There’s a natural edge in Bellatrix’s person. Something a bit sharp, that cuts those who try to be too close to her. Even wrapping the edges of her true self with whom she’s supposed to be doesn’t work. People around her always end up bleeding.

She holds Narcissa’s hand, and she hopes she feels safe. Bellatrix’s hands are always soft. It’s almost an obsession at this point. She covers them in cream morning and evening, and every time she can in between, because she needs them to be soft. Despite their creamy colour, the softness of the skin there – softer than even the most delicate fabric in her mother's closet – she can feel her edges poking through the tender skin.

Narcissa mustn’t feel them despite how hard she’s holding onto her big sister’s hand. Bellatrix looks at her, and at the gap-toothed smile she sports, so proud to be seen at her big sister’s arm. 

Maybe, sometimes, Bellatrix does a good enough job of taking care of her sisters. The thought of how often she lets them down leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

As they walk, they encounter a cabin full of other first years, a few whom Bellatrix remembers from various dinners they've hosted over the years.

“Do you want to sit with them?  It’s better to meet people from the start. You’ll feel less alone for your first night away from home.”

Narcissa’s eyes grow big while watching her big sister.

“Don’t you want me to sit with you?”

Always makes people bleed.

“No, that's not it! Not all! Cissy, of course not.” She moves to be in front of her sister, crouching a bit to be eye level with her. “You can come with me, and if anyone stares at you the wrong way, I’ll curse them before they know it. I just said that because I want you to make friends and have fun at Hogwarts. You do as you like.”

Narcissa spares a glance at the cabin, with the giggling first years, all a bit scared to be there.

“I think I’ll go with them, then,” she starts frowning, but in a matter of seconds, she gets rid of the creases in her face. 

“If you have any problem, scream for me as loud as you can, I’ll come and kick the arses of all those little shits.”

Narcissa giggles before declaring very seriously, “It’s bad words you’re using here, Bella.”

“You’re allowed to use them as long as no adults are around. The only rule for breaking rules is not to get caught.”

Narcissa giggles some more, innocence clinging to her cheeks, as Bellatrix tries to prevent her from growing too fast, to not feel old too soon, as she was forced to. She hopes to shelter Andromeda and Narcissa from life’s harsh truths. 

But she’s not good enough to do that kind of thing.

She tries not to dwell on those thoughts, but she has trouble keeping them away. It keeps spiralling in her mind, not good enough, not good enough, not good en-

“Bella!”

Bellatrix turns, sharp on her heels. She sees Sybill’s head poking out of the cabin.

“You missed our cabin. What happened?”

Something relaxes in Bellatrix’s shoulders. She lets herself stare at Sybill for a second, drinking in the sight of her.

“I thought I’d seen your hair in another cabin. I’m here now, though.”

Sybill smiles behind her too-thick glasses, and her wide, untamed and curly red hair makes her look so human that Bellatrix’s heart gives a squeeze.

She always had feelings she couldn’t understand with Sybill. They met when they were in their first year. They weren’t in the same cabin in the train, and even during the ceremony of the Sorting Hat, they didn’t talk.

Bellatrix was one of the first to be called, and she was welcomed by the older Slytherins quickly. She looked with disinterest as the other students were called, and she only clapped, quietly, when someone got into Slytherin.

It was when she’d first seen Sybill that she’d suddenly straightened up in her seat.

There already was all that hair, and the thick glasses. She could see them even from where she was. She looked odd in her uniform, in a way Bellatrix couldn’t place her finger on. She didn’t think it was on her measurements. The clothes fit her, but not really. She didn't know what had struck her, but she could not forget the feeling. There just was something in Sybill that no one could copy. 

The Sorting Hat took its time with her. And only after a good endless minute did it scream Slytherin, in that characteristic booming voice. Bellatrix didn’t applaud. Too stuck in the feelings gripping her chest at that point. The girl didn’t sit near her, but once they got in their dorms, Bellatrix made sure to choose the bed next to hers.

Even now, five years after having seen her for the first time, Bellatrix’s heart still squeezes at the sight of her. And she can’t imagine it changing any time soon.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

If Narcissa had to describe her and her sisters, she would say something like this:

They’re a unit. They’re three parts of a whole. They’re everything, and together, they can be nothing.

It’s the only place where Narcissa finds her footing. The only place where she’s not forced to be someone she isn’t. She's a bit obsessive about it. Who is she? She can adapt her personality perfectly to everyone she meets, trained by the force of the events her parents dragged her and her sisters  to all their lives.

She became a mere reflection of what people wanted to see when meeting her, and she does it well. She can make people fold to her will with only a move of her hand.

But she isn’t her, no.

She knows that, ultimately, because she knows in her core that the only time she’s herself is when she’s alone with her sisters. When she doesn’t have to be anyone, because she’s enough for her sisters just as she is. There, she’s no one’s reflection but her own.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Narcissa is calm on the outside. It’s something she’s always been praised for.

Her parents never said anything about it – they’re not ones for compliments – but the rest of the world, her parents’ “friends”, her teachers, even the other children, couldn't help but notice it. When she was still a child, the tailors that came to dress the three of them were always desperate by Andromeda’s hot headedness, Bellatrix’s impatience and the way she hovered around them when they were fitting clothes to her sisters.

But not Narcissa. She was the perfect child. Always smiling, pretty like a doll, silent as one.

She is the child everyone dreams of, and she knows it.

She’s not like that on the inside, though. She’s a wildfire. She’s something burning hot. She looks at every detail. She analyses every word people say to her, every move they make, so she can do anything she wants to them. She reads every book she can in her parents’ library, to know what humans are like.

She can’t calm herself, on the inside. She’s always driven by something new. And she always has to hide what she’s like on the inside. She acts like she’s calm when her mind is thinking about all that she has to do, revising all the knowledge she has, analysing a new problem she has learned about.

But she smiles through it all, and her long blonde hair fools people enough to make them think she’s a gullible and fragile doll that needs protection.

She’s sixteen, but if she ever needs something, she just has to snap her fingers for a dozen  people who owe her favours to come running at her lap.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Andromeda never was quiet. 

At least, not in the protective circle of her sisters. There was Bellatrix and her, almost twins, for they’re only born 10 months apart. They were a front. Bellatrix, the quiet protector, doing anything she could to protect Andromeda and Narcissa from her parents’ wrath. Andromeda, the one standing up to injustices. She never could bear them.

She couldn't bear any injustices being done to her sisters. When her parents got upset with Bellatrix for protecting them, she’d start a fight.

She knows Bellatrix had to do damage control, but she could never stop herself from doing it. It was just her nature: loyal, down to the very marrow of her bones,to the two only important pillars in her life. Bellatrix and Narcissa.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

She’s kissing Sybill.

Fuck.

She’s kissing a girl.

Bellatrix is no stranger to sex. She loves sex. She knows how to manipulate men enough to have them do what she wants them to. She knows her body. But it’s not –

She kisses boys, usually.

And now, she’s kissing Sybill. She doesn’t know how that happened. They were here, having fun, in the way Bellatrix relaxes when Sybill is around. They were laughing. Sybill got closer, and Bellatrix couldn’t say no to it. Sybill stopped laughing, a centimetre away from Bellatrix’s face.

For once, she felt helpless. Sybill had brought her hands to Bellatrix’s face, and she leaned quietly to cup her lips.

And now. She’s kissing Sybill.

It’s good. Sybill lips are soft, like her. Because she’s naturally soft. She got on top of Bellatrix, and she’s engulfing her in her warmth, in a way that makes Bellatrix melt. Sybill’s glasses knock on Bellatrix’s nose, but she doesn’t mind. She reaches for the red hair, and she deepens the kiss, in the way she’s always liked. 

It’s better with Sybill.

She smells good. She always smells good, but this close, Bellatrix is losing herself in it. All the pleasure, all the joy, the euphoria she gets with the kiss is making her lose control.

That’s when she pushes Sybill away.

She can’t lose control.

No. Bellatrix Black doesn’t lose control. She plays with it, steals it from others so that hers gets bigger. She can’t lose it to something as mundane as a kiss.

She tries to stand, to leave the dorm and flee, but she has the terrible idea to look back at Sybill. She’s dishevelled, her plump lips even pinker than before. Her hair is an even bigger mess after the passage of Bellatrix’s hands. She’s breathing quickly, deep red adorning her cheeks, eyes glassy and confused behind her askew glasses.

“I’m sorry,” she says when she meets Bellatrix’s eyes. “I thought you wanted it, too.”

“Well, you were wrong! You can’t see everything just because you’re a stupid Seer! It doesn’t work that way!”

The hurt in Sybill’s eyes has Bellatrix wanting to rip her own eyes out, so as to stop seeing this. She’s so angry, and she doesn’t even know what for. Is she angry at herself? For liking it? For not stopping it sooner? For hurting Sybill? Is she angry at Sybill?

She doesn’t know, but she can’t stay there, doing nothing. She has to act, to not show an ounce of vulnerability. Her softened edges grow sharp again. She feels them hitting all the sides of her body, fighting to get out. Nails turning to claws. Teeth into fangs, tongue into dagger.

“Did you never understand I hung out with you only because I pity you? You should know that as soon as Hogwarts ends, we’ll never speak again. I’m so far out of your reach, Trelawney. You never deserved someone like me.” She acts as if she isn’t seeing the tears flooding Sybill’s eyes at that. “I can’t believe I ever let you near me.”

With that, all the objects that started flying with her fit of anger rush to her bag, which then falls in her hand, and she slams the door shut, the more violently that she can. She hopes it will make her thoughts shut up.

It doesn’t.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

When they’re home, Bellatrix and Andromeda are like thumb and index. Necessary to each other, living side by side, doing everything together. They’re like twins. They’re the best of them together.

Apparently, a year at Hogwarts was enough to change their dynamic. When Bellatrix got back for the summer, it was like it always had been. Perfect. One brain between the two of them, synchronised, the three sisters spending all their time together. Like the unit they always have been.

But suddenly Hogwarts came into the picture, and, sure, Bellatrix had stayed with Andromeda on the train, but she didn’t really make an effort to include her in her existing friend group. Andromeda thought, maybe, it was because they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Yeah, she understood that. Bellatrix had always been magnetic to her too, and she loved speaking with her.

And after, there was the Sorting Hat. Of course, Andromeda was sorted into Slytherin. Though, and she’ll never tell anyone, it tried to sort her into another house. As if she ever would. No. She won’t tell that to anyone. Not even Bellatrix.

Not that it would matter anyway, because for all the rest of the evening, Bellatrix might as well have been fully ignoring her. She only nodded a bit when Andromeda talked to her, not sparing her a glance. She was focused on her friends, not caring about her twin. Worst: not caring about her little sister.

When she got in her dorm, Andromeda had to bite her cheeks not to cry herself to sleep.

She was a big girl now. She wasn’t allowed to do that.

The rest of the year continued that way. Bellatrix didn’t care about her. Always trailing her friends behind her. Specifically, that red haired girl that Andromeda decided she’d always hate.

When they got home for Christmas, she expected the atmosphere to be icy between the three of them.

It wasn’t. Bellatrix acted as she always did when Andromeda was around. Finishing her thoughts, laughing with her sisters.

It was good. And maybe, maybe Andromeda had interpreted things the wrong way. She thought Bella was avoiding her, but maybe she just convinced herself of it after that first day. Yes. That must have been it.

See how well they completed each other!

The three of them together made Andromeda complete.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

“I’ve waited enough, Bella. You’ll talk to me now.”

Sybill grabs Bellatrix’s shoulder while she is eating breakfast, and she’s looking at her, with a fierce gaze that Bellatrix knows she won’t be able to escape. Her hair is like fire around her, an echo of her feelings at the moment. Bellatrix wishes she could look the same, so that everyone could understand how angry she always is.

“Can’t you See I’m occupied, Trelawney?”

“Yes, I can see, Bella.” She sits by Bellatrix’s side on the bench, crowding into her space, legs touching. “But I don’t give a fuck. So now, you’ll follow me, and we’ll have twenty minutes to sort this out, alright?”

Sybill gets up and starts leaving the Great Hall.

“I never agreed, Trelawney!”

“Yet I’m sure you’ll follow me.” Sybill’s tone is gritting, she doesn’t even turn to answer Bellatrix, merely slowing down her pace. Bellatrix hates to prove her right, but what can she do? She’s only a woman, and she desperately wants to see Sybill again, after having avoided her for a month.

So, under the gaze of all the other students and a few intrigued teachers, she gets up, as dignified as she can, and she follows Sybill's path. Sybill is waiting for her behind the door, and she smiles when she sees Bellatrix.

“I was sure you’d come!” She smiles with her too big mouth, glasses too low on her nose.

“Did you See it?”

“No, I just know you, Bella. We’ve been friends for five years, after all.”

Bellatrix doesn’t answer. She remembers her last words to Sybill. I hung out with you only because I pity you. She doesn’t think she’s ever told a lie that made her feel that way. She never minded lying, it never hurt her, never bothered her. That day, though, it felt as if someone had put a hand through her belly and had reached for her guts before tearing them apart.

“Oh, Bella, don’t worry your pretty head about that, alright?”

“What?”

“Well, I know we’re real friends, I’ve known you long enough to know that, haven’t I? I don’t believe the first of your lies anymore.”

Bellatrix can’t talk for a while. Sybill is weird like that, she makes Bellatrix lose her words when she’s usually so sharp tongued.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” She grabs Bellatrix’s elbow, and she starts walking. “Now, come, I don’t want everyone to be able to eavesdrop our conversation.”

Her body is pressed against Bellatrix's, and she has to turn her head away from Sybill to try to ignore how flushed she feels. They enter an empty classroom, and Sybill promptly turns Bellatrix’s back against a wall, invading her space, again.

“Now, we talk.”

Bellatrix swallows harshly, biting her lower lip.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh? You really think that?” Sybill steps closer, and she puts her hand on Bellatrix’s neck, thumb starting to trace light patterns on the fragile skin there. Bellatrix erupts in goosebumps. “So, this is…” she places her thumb on Bellatrix’s lips, their foreheads far too close to each other, noses almost bumping, “nothing?”

“N-nothing, at all.”

Sybill’s thumb touches Bellatrix’s tongue when she opens her mouth, and she has to refrain from outright licking it.

“You’re so cute when you lie, babe.”

Bellatrix is not known for her impulse control.

She doesn’t prove people wrong.

She kisses Sybill. Again.

She can’t be blamed, really. It’s all Sybill’s fault. Taunting her like that. Teasing her. No, it’s not Bellatrix’s fault, at all.

Anyway, it doesn’t even feel like a fault once they’re kissing. Sybill’s hands find their rightful place, snuggling their way against Bellatrix’s curvy waist. Chest against chest. Bellatrix’s hands shoot into Sybill’s hair. She loves it so much, the tight curls that they share, hers always messy, a contrast to  Bellatrix’s forcefully straightened ones.

They kiss, and it’s messy. Open mouthed. Sharp teeth biting onto plump lips. Names murmured against the other’s skin. Sybill starts to go astray, kissing Bellatrix’s cheeks, ears, neck, teeth diving into it, tongue coming right after to lick away the pin prickle of pain she caused on her lover’s skin.

Bellatrix is no stranger to sex. Although she’s never felt as horny as she does now. She wants to strip Sybill, right then and there, lay her onto the ground, and do things her mind can’t even really picture until they both pass out from pleasure and exhaustion.

Sybill continues to kiss her, starting to mess with Bellatrix’s tie, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt, kissing her cleavage.

“We have to go to class, Bella,” she says, while not stopping in the slightest. Bellatrix isn’t the only one with impulse control issues.

“We do,” she says as a sigh escapes her control.

Bellatrix never liked going to classes. She’s smarter than all the other students, and the teachers barely taught her a thing in all these years. But right now, she’d kill anyone trying to get her to go to class.

Bellatrix considers falling prey to the temptation, but she thinks of all that would come with it, and the big sister spirit in her, the one that’s responsible for once wins out, and she can’t escape it anymore.

Using all her will, she pushes Sybill away from her.

“We have to go to class, S.”

“Why so serious, Bella?”

“Well, one of us must be,” she continues to push Sybill away, while buttoning up her shirt, repositioning her tie knot the way it's supposed to be. “You gave me hickeys, right?”

She feels the skin pulse around the newly formed bruises.

“I might have…” Sybill wiggles her eyebrows mischievously, “and what about it is a problem, truly?”

Bellatrix straightens her back, trying to get rid of the air of debauchery she knows for sure that she has.

“The problem, Sybill, is that we can kiss as much as we want, but no one – no one – can know about us. Is that understood?”

The glitter of excitement that was shining in Sybill’s eyes dies down.

“Of course. How did I imagine it would go, really.”

Bellatrix doesn’t answer, and she conjures a mirror to start applying a few spells to her neck. She keeps the ones on her cleavage which are hidden by her clothes, though.

“Go on, S, we’ll be late. You know how old McGonagall is when we’re late.”

Sybill doesn’t even try to hide the dishevelled state that she’s in. Her lips are still bright and pink, her hair even messier than usual, because of Bellatrix’s hands. Though she knows Sybill should be more discreet, Bellatrix can’t help but secretly gloat.

She put her in this state, and Sybill doesn’t seem to want to get rid of it.

Her Sybill.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Andromeda almost hates Hogwarts.

She loves many things there. The classes are interesting, and she loves being able to do magic, to feel as it rushes through her fingertips. She loves being away from her parents.

She hates Hogwarts because it is stealing her big sister from her. It started that first fatal year. And it never changed. Bellatrix just continued to ignore her, and Andromeda was left to her own devices.

She sees her sister growing up, without her. And everytime they come back to their house, she hopes she will be able to tell her how she feels. To tell her that she doesn’t want to talk to her anymore, and that all of it is her fault.

She wants to see that wildfire that she knows her guts cradle finally explode, but she never lets it. 

She looks at Bellatrix, at her lean body, her dark untamed hair, and the way their brains continue to complete each other, and she can’t say anything. Because she likes this. She misses it. She loves the way she fits with her twin. Her big sister. And despite all the anger she has for her, she can’t let that go.

She can’t let her go. 

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Narcissa is in front of her mirror. A real reflection of herself, in theory, but it never feels quite true. She looks at her high boned cheeks, the natural rose to the flesh there. The otherwise natural, almost sickening, white of her skin. The mascara on her eyelashes makes them impossibly longer than they already were, curling around her eyes, giving her big eyes that can look up to people, full of a fake vulnerability.

As if a Black could ever show vulnerability in public. People are stupid to ever believe her. If they were like her – smart – they’d analyse what she does, and they’d understand she’s lying. But they never suspect anything, or if they do, they never care, and they continue to pursue her favour like it’s the most treasured good.

She paints her lips a delicate pink, pulpous. She draws her skin like she’s a character from a book. She looks unreal. Unreachable. That’s the effect she’s aiming for.

Narcissa looks at her reflection in the mirror and she doesn’t know who that girl is.

She closes her eyes.

Narcissa is five.

Mother had a tailor make her a wonderful dress for the occasion. It prevents her from moving too much, but Mother says that children don’t need to move too much anyway. That she looks like she is supposed to, that way.

So Narcissa believes her. And anyway, it doesn’t matter how she feels, because she’s not alone. Bellatrix and Andromeda were forced into similar gowns.

Bellatrix and Andromeda are so big and impressive. Narcissa wants to be like them once she’s older. They’re already nine and eight! Soon, Bellatrix will leave for Hogwarts.

Narcissa doesn’t want to think about that. She needs her sisters, she doesn’t want to think about how it’s going to be once they’re not here with her.

Bellatrix and Andromeda stay by her side all day, they play together in the living room, waiting for the rest of the family to arrive and celebrate Narcissa’s old age!

Aunt Walburga arrives with a baby in her arms. Narcissa is very intrigued by it. She’s heard things about that baby in the big corridors of their home.

Father seemed very angry about that baby. Mother was trying to calm him. She heard the house elves murmur things too, but they’d quiet down every time she got too close. She’s not sure this baby is very liked. Her Aunt holds him close though, chest standing proud, as Uncle walks besides her, a hand on her shoulder.

She hasn’t seen it much yet, and she doesn’t remember it well.

“Bella,” she holds her sister’s sleeve, “can I see it? The baby. Can I?”

“His name is Sirius, Cissa.” Bellatrix fixes up Narcissa’s dress before turning towards their aunt. “Hello, Aunt Walburga.” She bows slightly, and Aunt Walburga only pinches her lips.

“Aunt,” Narcissa’s voice is a bit high, she’s excited to see him again. “Can I see Sirius?”

Aunt Walburga disinterestedly hums at her small frame, and turns to Bellatrix.

“I’ll let you hold him, but you have to be careful. Don’t make me regret it.”

Bellatrix holds careful arms to the little bundle of fabric. Her two sisters get close, and take a better look at him. Inside all the little clothes and blanket, there is a quiet face. Black hair is already falling on his forehead, pink baby lips in a pout as he sleeps peacefully.

“He’s so pretty…” sighs Narcissa. She moves her hand to his forehead and carefully puts a strand of hair away. It’s at that moment that she knows she wants kids. Lots and lots of them, to always have pretty pink babies with her.

How she will love Sirius! She knows it. She’s big enough to remember that moment forever, and she will love Sirius forever.

Despite the day being about her birthday, she can’t stop hovering near the baby. Near Sirius. He woke up and got hungry. A house elf fed him, and Narcissa watched, fascinated, as he gulped at his milk with passion.

When it’s time to open her gifts, she admittedly gets distracted from the baby. She has to be polite and calm because she’s a perfect little girl. She takes her time unwrapping the packages, so people know she’s well behaved and is not an impatient bratty child.

She gets books, her first set of quills and parchment because she will start writing soon. She also has a few books, but then there's the last gift.

The package is bigger than the rest. It intrigues her, almost as much as the baby. She unwraps it so carefully, she feels impatient but she’s also a bit afraid of what she’ll find out. When the paper is out of the way, she sees it’s just a box. She opens it, getting more intrigued, and inside, there is a doll.

She has a whole wardrobe, miniaturized, so they don’t take too much place. Mother quickly waves her hand so they can fit the pretty doll. All the pieces look like things Narcissa could actually wear.

The doll is so delicate. So precious. Her skin is shiny and clear like mother-of-pearl, and she has a dreamy yet interested air that fascinates Narcissa. She can’t help but pass her finger, again and again, on the meticulous details of her face. The pretty nose. The pouty lips. The long blond hair, slightly waving where they meet the doll’s shoulders.

Bella and Andy don’t care much about the doll, but Narcissa can’t let it get out of her sight. She goes back near Sirius, who’s playing on the couch, protected by the wards and charms their parents placed there. She sits at his side, as she tries multiple outfits to the delicate doll.

It’s not even a magical doll. She doesn’t know why her parents got it for her, but she doesn’t care. She loves it. She can’t help but show it off to Sirius, who seems interested by the shiny aspect of the dresses and the doll.

They spend the rest of the afternoon there, Sirius’ baby hand tangling in his cousin’s hair, as she untangles them gently. She can’t let Sirius make a mess – as cute as he is – because she wants to be as delicate as this doll. She’s so pretty, she’s sure everyone stops talking when she opens her mouth. She wants to be like her, when she grows up. She doesn’t want to play with the doll, she wants to be her.

She wants people to look at her like she’s looking at the doll. With fascination. Love.

She will get that.

She places the doll on her bedside table once the house elf puts her to bed that night. She looks at it in the dim light of the candle until she falls asleep. She just thinks of it. She will be like her.

She will be like her. She will be her model.

She must never forget.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

It becomes… something, that thing, between them. It doesn’t fade away. The swelling Bellatrix always felt in Sybill’s presence seems to grow the more they spend time tangled in each other’s body.

They hide in closets to kiss.

They started to get more adventurous. They kissed each other in ways Sybill didn’t even know were possible. Before burying her tongue deep in Sybill’s most intimate part, Bellatrix had laughed.

“Didn’t your Seer abilities See it? I guess you can always surprise people, even when they supposedly read the future!”

Sybill was so far into it, she didn’t even react to Bellatrix’s accusation of her abilities. Bellatrix loves rendering people powerless.

Once Hogwarts is over, Bellatrix knows she doesn’t want to get away from Sybill. Sybill is hers, and no one else’s. Unlike her, Sybill isn’t forced to get married right away. But she isn’t invited to Bellatrix’s wedding. She couldn’t risk it with all her family there. 

Bellatrix is beautiful on her wedding day, and she knows it. The stylists have spent hours on her untameable hair, but with the aid of magic they manage to get it under control, decorated with hundreds of pearls and white flowers to symbolize her purity. She has to cough to muffle her laugh at that.

Yeah. Bellatrix Black is pure, innocent and chaste. She could almost believe it once all of the makeup, hairstyling, and the actual wedding dress are on. She looks ethereal, ready to take you to another world with one single glance.

She sees the way Lestrange eyes her, utterly entranced by her. She loves that. Not because she cares if someone like him likes her, but because the more enamoured he is by her, the more she’ll be able to get a grip on him and never let him go.

That way, she will be able to do anything she wants, and he won’t be able to do anything about it. She will be able to go and sleep with Sybill as often as she wants, and one glance will make him cower with what he thinks is love.

She is right. Of course she is.

When isn’t she, that’s the question.

Rodolphus truly is her puppet, and she has no shame in that. She shares a whole apartment with Sybill now, and she comes to her husband’s house a few times a week. They have sex in hopes of providing an heir to the Lestrange name. Not that Bellatrix thinks she would be a good mother.

She has already given all the softness in her to her sisters and to her lover. She doesn’t have any more to spare.

But it’s okay, she’ll give the child siblings, and they’ll take care of each other, like she and her sisters did. It might not be ideal, but it forges them into people with character, at least.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

When she meets him, she feels like a whole new person.

Tom Riddle is handsome. That’s something that can’t be ignored. Bellatrix knows she has no interest in a man’s body now that she has discovered those of women, but this man…

She knows very quickly she’d give her life for that man.

Bellatrix is someone sharp. It’s something she’s always known. It’s a part of her, like her blue eyes, like her wild dark hair she always struggled to tame.

But like she did her hair, she always tried to soften her edges. She does it with the cream she can’t help but put on her hands as often as possible. She does it by taking care of her little sisters, protecting them against their parents. She does it by loving Sybill.

They’ve been out of Hogwarts for a year when Bellatrix meets the Dark Lord.

She’s entranced. He peered into her soul before delivering the simple words:

“Don’t try to shape yourself to the world. Shape it to you.”

They met in a one-on-one meeting. Something said to be the way he recruits his followers.

The Dark Lord talked about glory. Bellatrix thought about the way she was trapped in her own life, hidden away from the world. The Dark Lord said it. It would never have to be that way anymore. With him, it would all change.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Andromeda never really made friends with the people from her class. Nobody tries to annoy her – they all know she’s too important for that – but she never was able to get close to the people she lived with. Always a step behind, people never cared to include her, and she never cared enough to include herself.

So, it comes as a surprise when this Hufflepuff guy tries to talk to her. They’re in Defence Against the Dark Art with yet another teacher, and they have to duel in pairs so the teacher can see the overall level of the class. Usually, during those kinds of exercises, Andromeda is always the last chosen. People know she’s too good for them, and after trying to prove her wrong time and time again, now that she’s in her sixth year, they’ve stopped, tired of ending up in the hospital wing.

“Wanna do the duel with me?”

“Who are you?” She blurts before she can think any better of it. She knows she’s seen him around, but she never paid him any attention. After all, he’s just some Hufflepuff.

“I’m Teddy Tonks!” She searches through her brain to know if she’s heard that name before, but nothing comes to mind. He must be a half-blood on his dad’s side.

“What’s your mothers’ last name?”

“Oh, it’s really classic, not really interesting. It’s Rogers.”

Not a pureblood name.

He’s a mudblood. She moves away from him, and scrunches her nose at him.

“What makes you think you have any chance of beating me?”

“I’m not looking to beat you, come on, we both know I could never!” He laughs at that, and Andromeda keeps her eyebrows furrowed, because that boy is really weird. “No, I just want to see how the best duelist of our year fights. I’ve never had the chance to see it for myself.”

He smiles at her, and she has to admit – very quietly, only to herself – that he seems sympathetic.

The duel ends quickly. That boy can do nothing against her. All the boys she’d ever dueled with told her she’d cheated. This one only smiles when Andromeda walks over to help him back onto his feet.

It’s the only reason Andromeda is still thinking about him when she falls asleep.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Bellatrix is one of the first people to get the mark. She’s so proud of herself.

She did it, she swore allegiance to the Dark Lord. Together, hand in hand, they’re going to change the world.

They will make wizard superiority a fact for all the world. She knows the tattoo doesn’t bring more magic, but she feels more powerful than she ever has.

She goes to Sybill’s apartment after that, grinning all the way there.

“Look! He accepted that I’ll be one of his soldiers! He told me he trusted me! Can you believe it?” She starts almost shrieking as soon as she spots Sybill.

 “Oh. You did it.”

She doesn’t look as happy as Bellatrix, right now.

“You know, I don’t want to… take part. In that whole thing that is starting.”

“What? But you don’t have to take part. There’s only one good answer, and it’s mine. Sybill, you can’t tell me you like being forced to hide your abilities all the time? You’re so much more powerful than all those fools, and you’d want to stay hidden like a rat for the rest of your life? When we, together, have the power to make all that change? If we unite, things will change. The world will be ours.”

Sybill stays quiet.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, Bella.”

“You always have bad feelings. I’m the one that has the right one, and I’m telling you, I have a feeling that all of this is what the wizarding world has been waiting for. Don’t you want to be on top of the world?”

Sybill sighs, before kissing Bellatrix, and they end up in bed long enough for Bellatrix to forget all of her troubles.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Teddy continues to partner with Andromeda for DADA classes. She doesn’t understand why, but she can’t say she’s exactly opposed to it. They don’t see each other outside of this class, because – what would people say?

Every time they have a duel, she wins. He has gotten better, but of course, not enough to beat her. And every time she beats him, he smiles or laughs it off.

It’s been a few months now, and Andromeda couldn’t help but notice some things about him. Not that she has any interest in him, but well, she’s spent quite some time with the boy now.

She notices the way his eyes shine. They’re a brown shade. Usually, Andromeda finds brown eyes boring, and she hates hers. Both her sisters have limpid blue eyes, and she’s cursed with muddy little eyes.

But they’re not like that on Teddy. Not that she really has an interest in it, you know, but when they fight, they sometimes get close to each other, and she can see his eyes. Or when they’re practicing new spells together.

Anyway. His eyes are pretty, is the matter. They shine like you would imagine the fur of some majestic animal would in the light. They look more alive than any eyes she’s ever seen. Something in them seems eternally optimistic. With a childlike wonder to them, probably due to his mudblood nature.

She doesn’t think other people notice all the pretty things about him – she doesn’t really either, it’s more because of the circumstances that she does – because overall, he’s pretty mundane.

But when you look at him – really look at him – then… there’s something in him that can make your heart buzz a little. Not that it matters, to be clear. Andromeda feels things, but she’s always been sensitive. It would happen with any pretty boys she met.

Right?

Teddy invited her to Hogsmeade.

Teddy invited her to Hogsmeade.

She can only think of that as she looks up at Bellatrix. She’s in her seventh year, every boy would kill to have the chance to be her husband. They all hope they can convince her not to marry the man Father chose for her.

They won’t be able to, but Bellatrix keeps them hoping to manipulate them to her will.

Andromeda, too, is promised.

…

She turns her head slightly to see Teddy laughing with his friends. His head shoots up, and he winks at her when he notices her staring. She almost ducks her head into her plate, blushing furiously. He invited her to Hogsmeade.

She’s promised to Lestrange.

He invited her to Hogsmeade.

He’s a mudblood.

Bellatrix will kill her if she sees her with him.

Why is she even considering it? That boy is a Hufflepuff mudblood, for Merlin’s sake! He has nothing to offer her. Andromeda’s a princess, ready to be a queen, and he’s nothing if not a peasant.

She should have told him off as soon as he’d asked her.

Why doesn’t she want to tell him off?

She looks at Bellatrix. She shines. Andromeda thinks her sister the prettiest out of the three of them. She’d never tell it to anyone, but every time she sees her, she’s awestruck. Bellatrix wears her name like kings wear their crown: like it was made for them. She’s a star, and she always will be.

Despite all the anger Andromeda feels bubbling in her stomach and up her throat, directed at her sister, she never wants to disappoint her.

Teddy is ready to leave, and she knows what she will answer.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The war has started. They attacked muggles. All the Death Eaters, as the Dark Lord calls them, went to different points of England and started fires.

It was exhilarating. Seeing all those houses burning to the ground, the hungry flames licking all of it, until all those muggles are nothing but ashes. They will show them what they are capable of, and more.

This is just the start. It makes Bellatrix’s blood heat in her veins, and she feels more alive than ever. Her hair finally shows all the fury she’s feeling inside her as all her curls get messy, in a crown around her head.

When she comes back to Sybill’s apartment that night, she smells like smoke, and she shags Sybill with more intensity than ever.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

The next time they see each other, they’re in DADA, again. She starts with that.

“We won’t be going to Hogsmeade together.”

His usual smile droops like a sunflower at the edge of the day.

“No one can see me with you, do you hear?”

He lowers his eyes, shoulders shivering lightly.

“There’s a room in the castle that can become whatever we want it to be. We’ll each go to Hogsmeade with our friends, like we usually do. You’ll say you want to go back to the castle early. I’ll say the same, and I’ll meet you there. It’s on the seventh floor, near the picture of Barnabas the Barmy.”

Seeing Ted’s smile grow again feels like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Andromeda puts her head in her hand before turning slightly away to hide her happy grin.

The date is perfect.

Ted asked her if he could be the one calling for the room, because he knew the location he wanted to bring her to.

When they open the door, they’re in a place that doesn’t ring any bell in Andromeda’s mind. It’s a shop, but she doesn’t think it’s in Diagon Alley, nor is it in Hogsmeade.

“It’s, erm, the coffee shop near my hometown. It’s the place every couple went to, and I’d always thought I would go, too. Well, until I got into Hogwarts, of course.”

He blushes lightly, lowering his head.

“Sorry, maybe that’s too cheesy? We can go back, and you can choose, if it’s better!”

Andromeda laughs a bit at his panic.

“It’s okay, Ted! It’s great, really.” She smiles at him when he looks up at her. “Perfect even. I love it.”

He has a relieved sigh at the words, and his happy grin resurfaces. Andromeda is starting to get to know the way his emotions reflect on his face, and she likes that. Ted is somewhat… predictable. Not in a bad way. It’s rather reassuring to Andromeda.

She doesn’t fear fits of anger like she’s seen everyone in her family have, multiple times. She doesn’t think such small things can trigger Ted. She likes that.

They sit in a booth, away from the door, and they just have to call the food, for it to appear.

“It’s crazy how the house elves are great at this! I’m so impressed by them.”

“Impressed? By house elves?” Andromeda can’t help but snicker. She has seen a lot of house elves in her life, but she doesn’t think of them as anything to be impressed by. They work at the lowest rank of the wizard society. At their feet. She has always been taught that she and her family were the best thing in the world. Both by their birth and by their wizards’ status.

And now, some muggleborn tells her house elves are impressive?

“Have you seen all they can do? Sometimes, I visit them in the kitchen,” Andromeda doesn’t think she’s succeeding in hiding the look of bewilderment on her face, “they’re all nice, and they’re working so hard! They make everything we eat in the castle, and they wash everything too. Isn’t that crazy, to think they’re the only ones who can apparate in the castle? Their magic is so different from ours, it fascinates me.”

“House elves?” She can only ask again.

“Did you not ever think of that? You’ve lived with them all your life!”

“Yes, that’s why I don’t care about them. They’re inferior to wizards.”

“Why are they inferior?”

“Well, because there’s a hierarchy in the world, and we, wizards, are at the top.”

“House elves use magic, the same as we do. It’s the same magic, isn’t it? Just different ways of using it. I’m sure if they had wands, they could do a lot more things, too.”

Andromeda doesn’t even know what to say anymore. If it were anyone else, she’d continue to argue back, just to have the last word, but she doesn’t feel that kind of urge with Ted. So she just sits back in her seat, and contemplates her existence for a bit.

“But – those who use magic are superiors. It’s just… a fact?”

“Why’s that? Have you seen what muggles can do?”

“Erm, no?”

“In 1961, there was a man that went to space! Like, literal space. He floated out there. With only muggle technology. And the USA wants to go to the moon. Isn’t that crazy? And all of this without an ounce of magic.”

“You’re lying! They haven’t gone to space, have they?”

“They have!”

Andromeda suddenly thinks all her life is upside-down.

“But then, who’s superior?”

“No one, Andy. We’re all equals. We all bring different things to the world.”

Andromeda thinks she’s going to kiss him.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Narcissa is perfect.

She just is.

Or at least, everyone thinks she is, and that’s good enough.

She has a mask, always on, that makes her look like she has no flaws, and that she can’t make any mistakes.

People fear and respect her in equal measure and she takes great joy in knowing she has all that power. She’s top of all her classes, even the most annoying ones. She’d never let anyone beat her. Even the other purebloods aren’t as good as her. They’re not Blacks.

It’s something she’s sad to give up. Her name.

Well, she hasn’t for the moment, but one day, she’ll marry, and she’ll lose her name. Of course, her parents won’t settle for someone low rank, but no one can be better than a Black…

For the moment, it doesn’t matter though. Because Narcissa is with her sisters.

When she’s with them, her breathing seems less constricted, the mask seems to loosen a bit, not enough for it not to be wearable again, just enough to feel like she isn’t lying to everyone around her.

Weirdly, even though she knows that she isn’t perfect when she doesn’t wear her mask, she feels perfect with her sisters.

She’s so different when she’s with them. She talks less. She presents less.

She lets herself sit and draw her knees to her chest, clutching at them, soothing herself, observing her sisters.

They’re the best versions of themselves when they’re all together, they’re no denying that. Bellatrix and Andromeda together are a wildfire. Narcissa likes when she can just sit back and watch them go back and forth in banter and wandless magic duels.

Narcissa doesn’t know how she’d be able to live if she didn’t have her two sisters with her.

They’re her reprieve, her escape from the real world, and she always craves going back to that when she comes back from Hogwarts.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

They went back to the Room of Requirement.

A lot of times.

To have long dates together. They could talk forever, but sometimes they just kissed for hours, and today, they had sex together.

It felt wonderful. Andromeda doesn’t even have the words to describe it. It was like her body and mind were perfectly at peace, for the first time in her life. She got lost in all the feelings, loving the weight of Ted on top of her.

She knew intimately, as she lost what her family considered the most important thing in a woman, that she could never back down from that day. Something happened, and whatever path she chose in the future, this choice would never lose the impact it had on her.

She knew it before even starting, but she still decided to do it.

And she doesn’t regret it.

Andromeda looks at her sisters.

She feels calmer these days. She knows what she has to do, and even though she doesn’t want to, her mind calms because she has no other choices. She loves knowing what she has to do, and nothing has ever been clearer in her mind than that.

She will leave.

She told Teddy, once her seventh year is over, before she has time to get married to Lestrange, she will leave.

And now, she spent the first day of summer with her sisters. Bellatrix is married now, but no babies are on the way yet. She’s talking a lot about pureblood rights these days. How they should rise, and stop hiding like scared rats.

She can’t stop talking about her Dark Lord. It scares Andromeda.

But today, it doesn’t matter, because she’s leaving soon, and she just wants to bask in one last moment of peace. Just one last moment with her sisters. Completing Bellatrix’s brain for what she knows will certainly be the last time, because she can’t imagine a world where her sister will forgive her.

Little Narcissa, still in her teen years, but already exactly what her parents want her to be. She’s the most beautiful girl Andromeda has ever seen, ready to conquer the world. Right now, though, she’s just their little sister, and Narcissa knows it too. Her body is folded in the vulnerability only her sisters are allowed to see.

And Andromeda will break that forever.

She looks at her sisters, a few more seconds, but she has to close her eyes, because she feels the tears forming in her eyes.

She bats them away, and she focuses on her last day in the Black family.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Bellatrix wakes up to a scream echoing around the whole house.

She’s startled out of sleep, and before she can think any better of it, she gets up and rushes out of her childhood bedroom.

Cygnus is in the living room, face going red in a way Bellatrix has never seen, hand clutching a piece of parchment. Druella is gripping his arm, whiter than ever, almost corpse-like.

“What’s going on?”

She grips her wand a little tighter at her father’s gaze. She’s sure she could beat him if he starts a fight. The Dark Lord started teaching her new ways to control her power – something she never even dared think of as possible. With the Dark Lord, they’ll be able to take over the w-

“Your sister.”

Cygnus can’t seem to talk after that, positively fuming at whatever the hell happened.

“What? Which sister? Are they okay?”

“Andy,” chokes her mother, “she – “

She can’t talk anymore, starting to weep.

Bellatrix can’t take it anymore, she walks to her father, before ripping the letter out of his fist. Suddenly, she understands both of their states.

Her hair starts going wild, she feels it, like it always does when her feelings take over her. The way she kept them carefully tamed for the night is destroyed in a matter of seconds as she feels fury rush through her.

“A mudblood?”

The letter turns to flames and ashes in her hand as she feels the last shred of her sanity go out the window.

“A fucking mudblood? She left me for that?”

A manic laugh leaves her.

“What does he have that is better than our family? Than me?”

She did everything. She did everything! She took all the blows for her. She took everything on her back to protect them, even when Andromeda was the one to put things on fire. She had to try and not sharpen any more than she already was for their sakes.

Andromeda is her little sister.

Andromeda is her twin.

Who is she without her?

She screams until she sees Narcissa in the doorframe.

Her fury becomes manageable. It’s still white-hot in her gut, but she can make it shut up for a while.

“Andromeda left us for a mudblood,” is all that she says before exiting the room, going to hers, finding suitable clothes before going out.

She walks to the Muggle Ministry building, takes the arms of two of its employees and apparates far away from the city.

Once she’s in the middle of meadows, muggles unable to make sense of anything that happened – she tortures them until they lose their minds. She leaves them here, hoping they will die, and that no one will ever find them, so that anyone they ever loved would think they just abandoned them. Just like her twin just did to her.

She comes home, and she lets Sybill shag her until she passes out, convincing herself the tears on her cheeks are from the pleasure Sybill is giving her.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Bellatrix disappears for a few days. Even Rodolphus doesn’t have any news of her. Cygnus screams at him for not knowing where his wife is.

Narcissa stays in her room, back against the door.

Why did Andromeda leave? She left them for a mudblood, or so everyone says.

Was Narcissa not enough? She did everything to be perfect, though. Did she miss something? Wasn’t Narcissa a good enough reason not to leave?

Her back hurts against the door, but she feels stuck there. She only moves when a house elf brings her a meal. She eats just because she knows it’s what she has to do.

Because that’s what you do when you’re perfect.

But is she perfect, if Andromeda left and Bellatrix disappeared?

If Narcissa is perfect, then why isn’t it enough? Her gaze travels back to the little doll she hid in the safety of her bookshelves.

She cries as she eats.

When Bellatrix comes home, throwing theatrics as is usual with her, Narcissa rushes to leave her room and finally meet her.

“Good, you’re here,” Bellatrix’s gaze is sharp, but there’s something missing there. “We’re going to find Andromeda and get her back here.”

Narcissa throws a helpless look to her parents.

“Bellatrix Black!” Yells their father, losing his manners to the point of forgetting his daughter’s new name. “You shan’t do that, or else you’ll never pass the threshold of this house again.”

As if done on purpose, a lighting bolt strikes just outside, and the sound of rushing rain falls on the silent room. As the thunder growls, all the objects in the room fall to the ground under the murderous gaze of one Bellatrix Lestrange.

She doesn’t say a word before walking to a fireplace and shouting the name of her home.

Narcissa is alone again.

How can anything be the same ever again?

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Bellatrix changes after that.

Something in her twists, she can feel it tug at her heart, but she doesn’t do anything to change it. She throws herself into the war, like it’s the only thing she knows how to do. She lets herself sharpen after every word spoken by the Dark Lord. She tames her hair less, not worrying about those kinds of things anymore.

When she isn’t killing rot, she shags Sybill. When she isn’t shagging Sybill, she tries to get pregnant.

She lives for Sybill and the Dark Lord. For a long time, Sybill felt like her only world, but now, the Dark Lord has taken over. He’s her only thought. She wants his praise. She wants him to teach her more and more things, so she can become even more destructive.

Even with Sybill, she doesn’t feel her edges softening anymore. It’s all spikes on her back, claws gripping on her lover’s back, fangs diving into the soft flesh of Sybill’s thigh.

She loses herself in more, more, more, moremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremore!

When she looks at herself in the mirror, she doesn’t recognize who she used to be, but she knows she loves who she sees.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Narcissa asks her parents to find her a fiancée the sooner they can. She doesn’t want to flee like her traitorous sister did. She is going to be a good representative of her family. She will not escape her duty as Sirius is trying to do.

She’s not really happy about getting married. She doesn’t feel as if she cares about men. Those she sees at Hogwarts aren’t really interesting. As are most of the people around her, if she’s honest.

She doesn't have much of an interest in people, except for her sisters.

Her sister.

Bellatrix.

And well, Bellatrix isn’t even seeing her much these days, she’s too occupied by all her Dark Lord business. Narcissa doesn’t care much for that. She just likes to read, and learn, and keep being perfect.

And now, she cares about getting married.

She’s going to bear children, enough so that the magic world will be whole again. She wants this to be the only contribution she has to offer for that war her sister is talking about.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

She wanted her sisters to be her bridesmaids.

Only one will be able to. She tries not to be bitter about it as she walks to the altar, where Lucius is waiting.

She knows he is handsome. And she is lucky to be married to him. Her father negotiated very well.

She can only feel the missing hole Andromeda left in her heart as they exchange rings, and as she kisses her new husband.

As she tells her sister on her wedding night, she thinks of the one else who should have been near her at that time.

Narcissa feels so lonely now. She never feels herself anymore, now that she’s not there anymore. But she continues on with life. Being the perfect woman that she always will be. That she ought to be.

But something’s lacking, and she feels herself bleed at that.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Regulus is dead.

Andromeda has to read the paper to learn that. Nobody told her. She had to read the paper to find out. Her little cousin is dead and nobody told her.

The funeral is already over and done with when she learns it.

She goes to visit his tomb, and she learns the rumour about his death. How he must have been a coward, how he tried to escape that stupid Voldemort’s claws.

Andromeda can’t imagine Regulus being that kind of coward. She’d seen him protect himself from his parents’ wrath, but he never fled. She can’t imagine him doing something like that.

She knows it’s probably not the case, because she can’t imagine Regulus Black doing something like that, but she likes to think his death wasn’t useless. She wants to let herself believe he might have done something great to “deserve” death.

She sits in the cold, near the headstone, and she gives herself a minute to cry. About this life who will never grow anymore.

And nobody told her.

Nobody could put their anger aside to tell her.

She thinks about Sirius, but she doesn’t dare move. She doesn’t dare intrude in the nightmare he must be living. She can’t, because, despite it all, despite having left her sisters, she doesn’t want to imagine the pain of having to know they’re gone forever. And if she sees Sirius right now….

She can’t do that.

So she leaves her flowers, and she flees the scene.

Because, apparently, that’s all she’s able to do.

She remembers that for a long time, she thought she wouldn’t be cursed.

She’d escape it.

She didn’t realise that this has always been the real curse.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

 Narcissa looks at Draco. He’s perfect. 

At first, this thought makes her happy like she never has been. But then. She thinks of herself. 

She’s perfect, and yet… Look where that led her. Andromeda left. Bellatrix is more interested in her Dark Lord than seeing her nephew. Narcissa doesn’t know how she’d continue living if she didn’t have her Draco. 

He’s perfect, but he doesn’t have to do anything to earn that. He doesn’t have to change who he is for that, to control himself. He’s perfect just because he’s Draco Malfoy, son of Narcissa Black. 

Andromeda should have been there. She has a daughter, or so Narcissa has heard. She is around seven. They should have been raised together. Andromeda should have been there to support Narcissa as she failed to produce an heir for so long. They should have been together to convince Bellatrix to try more to produce an heir, and not distance herself from her husband because of her Dark Lord. 

She caresses Draco’s cheek as he sleeps. He has the same blond hair as his father and his mother. He looks more like a Malfoy than like a Black. His face is thin, and less sharp than the way a Black is shaped. All jaws and cheekbones, brows set to always look murderous. 

Malfoys are weaker than Blacks, and it reads in their faces. But it doesn’t matter, Draco is perfect, and Narcissa would move mountains for him to have everything he needs, wants, or merely expressed an interest in. He will have everything, he will be cherished. 

She thinks of the way Bellatrix always doted on her. She’ll dote on his son the same way. He won’t need to be anyone’s big brother. He won’t need to be the strongest in order to protect others. Narcissa would rather die than for it to happen. 

He sleeps peacefully, and she wishes for his sleep to always be that way. Calm and unbothered. 

She remembers a time where she would sleep with her sisters. They were imperfect in those moments, undignified in the worst of ways. 

How sweet the memories of those times are. 

Narcissa closes her eyes, for just a second, to bask in that feeling she’ll never find again anymore. A soft wailing takes her out of her reverie. 

Draco’s eyes open, their blue is the exact same as his aunt’s. Narcissa holds her baby, her son, calming him by putting his head on her heart. 

Nothing can fix her heart after having lost Andromeda, but maybe knowing Bellatrix will never flee, and having the chance to see Draco grow will soothe it? 

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

It’s the only thought in her head.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

She went to the destroyed house, hoping to find a trace of him. The child wasn’t there anymore, or else, she’d have killed it herself. She didn’t even have it in herself to care about the two other corpses still lying on the floor.

She left the destroyed house feeling as if it was an embodiment of herself.

She goes back home, where Sybill is waiting for her.

“Bella?”

“He’s dead. The Dark Lord. He left us.”

Sybill opens her mouth to answer, but the sound comes out strangled, and before Bellatrix has the time to react, her eyes are rolling to the back of her head, body going slack. She starts talking in a voice Bellatrix has never heard.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went to dust but like dust, it will rise again. The fire of the collapsing stars will be caused by Him, and it will forever break the raven’s wings.”

Bellatrix never heard one of Sybill’s prophecies. She’s always been known for her feelings, but she never heard her tell a prophecy.

But she just did.

The Dark Lord will rise again.

Who cares about this absurd story of stars, the Dark Lord will rise again.

“I’m sorry, Bella. That he’s dead. Do you want to come cuddle for a bit?”

Bellatrix feels something live in her again. A flame moving again in her gut, and she starts walking without even thinking about it.

“I have something to do.”

She walks to the manor where they used to meet, and as she expected, there are some Death Eaters there.

“Crouch, Rodolphus!”

She can’t go without her husband, and she wants to see how good the boy is. She knows he lost his best friend not long ago, and she can’t wait to see him take revenge on his death, and on their Lord’s death.

“Ready to have some fun?”

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

Azkaban is cold.

It’s not enough to break Bellatrix. But she’s cold.

She hears the screams of the other. She knows Sirius is somewhere in here. For something he didn’t even commit, at that.

Bellatrix, she managed to hold onto her act. She almost had it in her to say at her trial that her little cousin never would have done it.

But what would her words have changed? The world is different now.

For a while at least. Bellatrix just has to be strong enough to survive until her Lord rises again. She knows he will.

It makes her laugh maniacally every time she thinks of it. She’s not doing this for nothing.

She’s not doing this for nothing. There is a goal behind all of this: her Lord.

She’s never been as sharp as she’s now. She feels herself knock herself down. She can’t move without hurting herself.

But it doesn’t matter, her Lord will rise. Her Lord will rise.

She loses herself in all of this. Except when the Dementors feed themselves. Their breath sucking something inside her that makes her feel hollow.

She’s going mad. Right as it happens, she knows it. Along with the cold, she feels the madness seeping into her bones.

And maybe that’s the real curse. Being left alone to feel madness becoming one with her, without being able to do anything about it.

That’s the only moment she can let herself sob.

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚

She’s alone.

Narcissa is alone.

They’re gone.

Both of them.

They. Both. Abandoned. Narcissa.

She’s the last one standing. She wants to scream. Something in her is battling. She wants to scream. Her hands plunge into her immaculate hair.

Tears stream down her white porcelain cheeks. Destroy the makeup placed there.

She wants to scream. After having destroyed her sister’s room with her magic, she goes back to hers, sobbing.

It’s not delicate, not ladylike, not pretty. She’s not pretty anymore, that rage inside her means she’s not perfect anymore.

She wants to scream, she wants to, she wants t-

Her gaze falls on the doll.

She’s on a shelf now, sitting languidly, head bowing a bit to the side. Her hair is still perfect, as well as every trait that Narcissa adored as a kid.

See, that’s the real magic of that stupid doll. She’ll never change. While Narcissa is forced to. While she can never be perfect because she will never be allowed to let time pass without it changing her.

That stupid doll, that she based her whole life on.

She hates it. She hates her.

She wants to scream.

She hates herself.

She doesn’t know how it happens, but the doll is in her hands. She holds there, her fragile neck bowing on the side, legs dangling in the void behind her.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!”

Her neck snaps, without a single move from Narcissa.

The hair gets full of knots. The elegant wave of it is destroyed. The pouty lips fall into a wicked grin. The dress she still wore gets dirty and ugly, like Narcissa’s insides.

Everything about the doll falls into decay as Narcissa just stares at it, and stares at it. Hating it, hating that thing that never did anything.

Because it’s just a doll. Not even a magic one.

Narcissa did all of this to herself, and she hates herself.

She wants to scream.

S

C

R

E

A

M

The sound that’s forced out of her doesn’t seem human to her own ears. She’s on her knees and she’s screaming like never before. The doll falls on the ground and dissolves into dust, as Narcissa’s fingers drag on the side of her skull.

She’s screaming so loud, she can’t hear her own thoughts. She wants this to last forever.

She breathes a ragged breath, but it doesn’t last long because. She wants to scream.

So, she does again. And again.

Her sisters. Her sisters…!

What is she going to be without them?

The hole Andromeda caused already left the ugliest scar on Narcissa, always hard to keep closed. Now, it has opened again, getting even bigger. Digging a new one on her heart, a cross forever drawn on it.

Her curse always was that. Thinking she’d never be alone as long as her sisters were by her side. And ending up cursed alone, lost in the dark, without the shining lights that were her big sisters to get her out of there.

Narcissa screams again, engulfed by the dark, and no one is there to save her from it.