Fic: The Faithful
Sep. 3rd, 2006 09:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
quietliban.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
femgenficathonTitle: The Faithful
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quietliban
Rating: PG-13 to R (Would personally, call it an M, for mature audiences).
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warnings: dark themes
Prompt: 59) It is terrible to destroy a person’s picture of himself in the interests of truth or some other abstraction.--Doris Lessing.
Summary: Little Bellatrix is growing up to be a perfect Black.
Author's Notes: Thank you very much to my most excellent beta-readers,dreame_waever and janicechess. Any remaining errors are my own.
December, 1967
Bellatrix stands out in the snow. The Christmas holidays are over, and her new cousin was born dead.
The snow falls around her as she stands by the school’s main steps. Bellatrix watches the carriages being pulled away by Thestrals she can now see. She had not realised how horrible they were, with their leathery skin and blood-red eyes.
She shivers and pulls her school robes around her tighter. The awful smell of that room where Aunt Walpurga screamed, cried and sweated fills her nostrils. It is a phantom. The blue face flashes in her memory.
She had not wanted to be in that room. She had pleaded to stay with her sisters in the drawing room, but her mother had refused. Druella had decided that at age sixteen, Bellatrix was now old enough to witness the birthing of new life.
Footfalls sound on the steps and Bellatrix looks up. The Head Girl stands on the steps with curious expression on her face. “Bella,” Molly Prewett calls softly. “What are you still doing out here?”
Bellatrix scowls at her cousin. Molly had been in that room, too. She had seen that blue face and smelled that awful stench. Molly had seen how death stole life so easily, but Molly was older, and Molly was a Gryffindor.
“Watching the Thestrals, cousin,” she replies, while taking the steps up towards Molly. “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asks.
Molly frowns. Bellatrix laughs then. Her small cackle fills the air.
Molly stands tall. Her blue eyes are not fixed on the carriages, but on Bellatrix’s face. “Inside please, Miss Black,” Molly says, transforming from cousin to Head Girl, “before I have to take House points.”
Bellatrix smirks and curtsies. “Of course, Miss Prewett,” she replies, looking one last time at the dark figures of the Thestrals. “Of course,” she says, following Molly into the Great Hall.
February, 1968
Bellatrix is walking down the Transfiguration corridor when somebody catches her arm. She turns, wand out to hex whoever has dared to touch her.
She turns to see her sister.
“Andromeda.”
“Bellatrix,” Andromeda replies.
Bellatrix raises an eyebrow. “Well, what do you want?”
Andromeda grabs her arm again, and Bellatrix shouldn’t be surprised when her sister drags her towards the Transfiguration classroom she has just left, but she is. Bellatrix almost trips.
“There had better be a good explanation for this.”
Andromeda smiles sweetly. “Oh, there is.“ She lets go of Bellatrix’s arm. “Tell him to leave me alone.”
Bellatrix doesn’t know who Andromeda means. Her sister hasn’t willingly spoken to her since Christmas, when she yelled at Bellatrix for levitating Sirius’ new puffskein out of his reach. “Who?” she asks, mildly bored.
Andromeda looks around the Transfiguration hallway, biting her lower lip. Bellatrix sighs.
“Malfoy,” Andromeda says. “Tell him to leave me alone.”
Bellatrix doesn’t believe it, and she laughs. “Lucius?” she asks. “Lucius Malfoy?”
Andromeda rolls her eyes and leans into her hip. “Do you know any other Malfoys in this school? Of course Lucius Malfoy!”
Bellatrix blinks. She honestly doesn’t understand. Why would Lucius Malfoy bother her sister? The Malfoys are an old respectable family. They are not as old as the Blacks to be sure, but they are purebloods, and they have wealth and influence with the Ministry.
”What is he doing?”
Andromeda looks at her feet. “He touches me,” she says looking up but not quite meeting Bellatrix’s eyes, “and he says things.” Andromeda sighs. “He even asked me to Hogsmeade, Bella!”
She can’t help it. Bellatrix laughs. “Oh,” she says, “oh, Romy, he likes you!” She smiles. “I think it’s splendid.”
Andromeda flushes a furious red. “It’s not!” she insists. “Lucius is creepy, and he looks at me funny, like he can’t quite figure out whether not I’m a flobberworm or a witch.” She groans. “Please, Bella, please tell him to leave me alone. He’ll listen to you. You know he will.”
Bellatrix shakes her head, amusement plain across her face.
Andromeda’s expression changes. “If you don’t,” she says, “I’ll tell Molly about your late night excursions with that Lestrange boy. You know that she’ll tell Aunt Lucretia who’ll tell Mother. And I know that Mother told you to stay away from those foreign boys.”
Bellatrix sobers. The thought of her mother finding out about Rodolphus sends a chill down her spine.
“You will not,” Bellatrix tells her.
Andromeda meets Bellatrix’s hard gaze. “I will,” she promises, “and you know that Molly will believe me. She’s always liked me better than you.”
Bellatrix clenches her jaw and her fingers curl into a fist around her wand. Andromeda’s eyes are determined, and Bellatrix feels a twisted sense of pride in her little sister. Little Andromeda is growing up to be a perfect Black.
“Fine.” Her expression remains stony. “I’ll have a word with Lucius.”
Andromeda smiles. “Thank you, Bella.”
September, 1969
Bellatrix lies in the autumn sun. Her head is pillowed by Rodolphus’ stomach. Sunlight falls on her face and her eyes are closed. She squeezes Rodolphus’ hand, further entwining their fingers.
She smiles. “Tell me about France?” she asks softly.
“France?” Rodolphus asks. “Bella, love, I’ve told you about France.”
Bellatrix sighs. “I know, but I want to know more.”
Rodolphus sits up, forcing Bellatrix to move. He lifts their entwined fingers to his lips. “Look,” he says, “here comes your sister.” Bellatrix opens her eyes and looks up at his face, she sees his frown. “And Malfoy.”
She sits up too. “Malfoy?” she asks. She faintly remembers when Andromeda asked her to speak to Lucius in sixth-year. Lucius had smirked, with laughter dancing in his grey eyes, before he acquiesced. Bellatrix did not trust him.
“Yes,” Rodolphus answers, “Narcissa, and Lucius.”
Bellatrix frowns further. “Cissy?” She turns to Rodolphus. “What would Cissy be doing with Lucius?” Bellatrix knows Narcissa should be in class. She watches the couple walk closer to the lake shore.
Narcissa smiles as she and Lucius approach. Bellatrix lets go of Rodolphus’ hand and feels guilt when he frowns at her.
“It’s a lovely day, Bella,” Narcissa tells her. “Isn’t it a lovely day, Lucius?”
Lucius smiles and nods, he and Narcissa look more like siblings than Bellatrix and her sister ever did. “It is,” he agrees.
Bellatrix resigns herself to spending some time with her youngest sister. She pats the grass next to her, beckoning her sister to sit down. “Aren’t you meant to be in lessons, Cissy?” she asks.
Narcissa blushes and looks across the ground to where the castle looms. “I know, Bella, but Lucius said that Professor Castamere would predict my not being there, and so she wouldn’t mind. Isn’t that so, Lucius?”
Bellatrix turns to Lucius. He nods, a smirk on his lips.
Bellatrix sighs. “And you believed that rot, did you, Cissy?”
Narcissa giggles and smiles broadly. “Of course not, but who are you to say. Aren’t you meant to be in lessons?”
Bellatrix looks to Rodolphus who hasn’t said a word since Lucius and Narcissa arrived. She frowns but shakes her head. “I’m in seventh year, Cissy, while you are in third; I get free study lessons, you do not.”
Narcissa turns away with a huff, unimpressed. “What are you doing by the lake, anyway? And with him? Mother said the Lestranges were worse than carrion, that they were exiled from France for practising--“
“Hush!” Bellatrix puts a hand over her sister’s mouth. She doesn’t look at Rodolphus. She can see Lucius grinning, and senses Rodolphus leaving.
“Rodolphus,” she calls with her hand still over he sister’s mouth. He doesn’t look back as he strides towards the castle. “Rodolphus!” she calls louder. He continues to walk away. “Please?” she whispers softly before turning to Lucius.
Lucius meets her stare, amusement clear in his grey eyes.
“This is your doing,” she tells him and drops her hand from Narcissa’s mouth.
“My doing?” he asks. “Pray tell, how?”
Bellatrix nods to her sister. “You brought her here, Lucius. If you hadn’t, she would be in Divination now. I’ve already told you to stay away from one sister. Do I have to tell you to stay away from another?”
“Bella, no!” Narcissa grips her forearm, drawing Bellatrix’s attention away from Lucius. “It isn’t his fault,” she tells her, “it isn’t his fault at all. I asked him to bring me here.” Narcissa glances between Bellatrix and Lucius. “I hardly get to see you anymore, Bella, and I was skiving off Divination when I ran into Lucius and asked if he had seen you. So you see, Lucius is completely innocent.”
Bellatrix looks between Lucius and her sister. Narcissa is mischievous enough, but she doubts that Lucius could ever be completely innocent of anything.
“Narcissa, back to class,” Bellatrix tells her, her gaze still fixed on Lucius Malfoy’s face.
“But, Bella…”
“Now.”
Narcissa sighs angrily but stands, straightening her robes before stepping over and kissing Lucius chastely on his cheek. Bellatrix frowns, but waits until Narcissa is out of earshot before speaking.
“What is it that you want with her, Malfoy?” Bellatrix asks.
“Want?” Lucius replies, smiling.
“Yes, Lucius: want.” Bellatrix pauses, looking over at the lake. “You seem fascinated with my sisters; Andromeda last year, and now Narcissa.” She turns to face him. “Cissy has a crush on you. She’s foolish to let you see it.”
Lucius laughs. “You aren’t going to be here forever, Bellatrix; you should be grateful to have someone to watch over your sisters.”
Bellatrix laughs at that. She laughs at the presumptuousness of that statement. “You’ll be leaving next year yourself, and besides there’s the Prewett twins and Andromeda is old enough to look after her self.”
Lucius’ amusement drops. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bellatrix watches him carefully. “No, it wasn’t, was it?”
Lucius comes to stand by her, and she looks at the shoes on his feet. They are black leather, shined and polished with new scuff marks on the toes. She looks up and he towers over her.
“The future is an uncertain thing,” she says, suddenly feeling a little too wise.
Lucius smiles and it is a grim thing. “It is.”
August, 1969
The plates in front of her disappear, but she does not notice. Bellatrix stares at the ring on her finger. It is still new, still uncomfortable, but she has gotten what she wants.
“What was he called?” Aunt Walpurga asks. “This wizard with the answer to maintaining pureblood lines.”
It is her mother who answers. The night’s wine has made Druella Black’s voice carry, and it startles Bellatrix out of her daydreams. “A Lord Voldemort or some such.”
It is then that Regulus comes scuttling through the double doors that lead into the dining room. Sirius is chasing after him, shouting loudly and calling his younger brother names.
“Voldemort?” Aunt Lucretia asks, putting down her goblet. She looks at Bellatrix with speculative grey eyes. “What sort of name is that?” Lucretia sniffs. “It certainly isn’t British.”
Bellatrix meets her aunt’s eyes. She can hear the disapproval in Lucretia’s voice. Bellatrix is marrying a Frenchman, a foreigner, and that is certainly not acceptable in Lucretia Black Prewett’s eyes.
“No,” Druella replies. Bellatrix cringes at the drunkenness of her mother’s voice. “I think he comes from Bulgaria; he certainly wouldn’t come from Russia.”
Andromeda sighs loudly from down the table. “French,” Andromeda says, interrupting the adults. “It’s French. Voldemort is a French name.”
Lucretia gives Bellatrix a look. Bellatrix smiles; she is grateful that her aunt did not bring Molly along this evening. Then there would have been double the disapproving looks.
“French?” Uncle Orion asks. Bellatrix’s heart sinks at the tone of his voice. “I still can’t believe you’re allowing your daughter to marry that Lestrange boy, Cygnus. They’re no good. I can abide by many things, but necromancy? That, I cannot.”
Bellatrix watches as her father laughs. “Have you met your niece, Orion?” he asks, sending a warm smile in Bellatrix’s direction. “Besides, Rodolphus isn’t a bad sort. It’s his father that deals with the dead.”
“Pah,” Uncle Orion sits back in his chair. Aunt Walpurga places a hand on her husband’s arm.
Walpurga looks at Bellatrix speculatively. “Tell me more about this Voldemort fellow, Bella,” she commands. Aunt Walpurga’s voice is lower, and Uncle Orion now seems content to study his wine goblet. “Is he very powerful?”
Bellatrix smiles a wide smile before answering. The diamond in her ring flickers in the candle light.
November, 1970
The fire burns brightly in the hearth, and Bellatrix tells herself that she cannot hear the screams. She tells herself that they are something else, something different. She tells herself that they are music.
The music permeates the walls, and Bellatrix isn’t shaking. She isn’t. She believes in this, and there is no doubt in her mind. This is right. This is something she needs to do.
“You don’t have to do this, Bella,” Rodolphus says. His face is cast in shadow and Bellatrix can only feel her new husband’s eyes on her. She stares at the burning flames. “I’m not asking you to do it.”
Bellatrix laughs. The sound is hollow and it echoes high above the musical screams. “You’re not asking me not do it either, are you?”
Rodolphus turns his head to look at her more clearly. The movement causes the shadows to change over his face. Bellatrix can see the stoic sadness in his eyes. He does not reply, Bellatrix does not need him to
The music stops, and Bellatrix looks at Rodolphus as a knock sounds on the door. “I’m not taking the Mark for you,” Bellatrix tells him. “I’m taking it for myself.”
Rodolphus nods and pushes his hair out of his face, revealing the twisted black Mark as his sleeve falls down his forearm. “Love is not always enough, Bella,” he replies as the knock on the door is repeated. “I did this for my father.”
The door opens and Bellatrix smiles at Rastaban Lestrange and Walden Macnair.
“Then you took it for the wrong reasons.”
January, 1971
The screaming is music now, and Bellatrix smiles. Her wand is trained on the Mudblood. She looks to her Lord; he nods.
“Crucio!” The red light spills from her wand-tip and a rush of adrenaline flows through her body. “Crucio!” she yells again, and the red light intensifies.
The Mudblood screams, and there are dull thuds of bones and flesh hitting the floor over, and over again. They are the rhythm.
A hand runs down her arm and Bellatrix closes her eyes, a content, lazy smile playing across her lips.
“Enough, Bella, enough.”
The voice is her husband’s, and the room she wakes in is dark. Disappointment pools in her gut. It was a dream, only a dream.
Rodolphus’ hand clasps her forearm, as he leans over her, worry in his eyes. Bellatrix pushes him away.
“He’s left Britain,” Rodolphus says.
Bellatrix sits up; the sheets around her are tangled. She frowns. “He will call us to Him?”
Rodolphus nods. “When we are needed, Bella. Have faith.”
Bellatrix smiles then, and lifts a hand to her husband’s cheek. “I do.”
October, 1972
“Mother, you cannot be serious?” Andromeda asks.
Bellatrix lies on the chaise lounge in the sitting room, watching Regulus piece together a jig-saw puzzle on the coffee table. She is not surprised by her mother’s news.
“I am perfectly serious,” Druella responds. “Cissy shall marry Lucius Malfoy.”
Andromeda huffs and then plops down by Bellatrix’s feet. “You’re not surprised by this, are you?” she asks.
Bellatrix smiles. “It was you or Cissy,” she shrugs. She reaches over to push a piece of a puzzle in. Regulus glares at her with angry dark eyes. What a delightful creature her cousin is. “Luckily, Cissy actually likes him. I can’t think why-- vile, ugly creature that Lucius is.”
“Lucius isn’t ugly, Bella.” Her mother looks at Bellatrix, puzzled. “He is arrogant, perhaps, but with reason: he’s quite a handsome creature.”
Bellartix looks at Druella carefully.
“Argh!” Andromeda makes wild gestures. “Lucius doesn’t love her.”
Bellatrix dismisses her mother, and raises an eyebrow at her sister. “Oh?”
Andromeda rolls her eyes. “He loves power,” she states.
Bellatrix agrees, but she is not about to let her sister know. She waves her hand. “Not all marriages are based on love.”
Andromeda snorts. “No, I know that.” She rolls her eyes. “You have to take into account the purity of blood.”
Bellatrix narrows her eyes at Andromeda and opens her mouth. “Are--“
“I hear that Molly is pregnant to that blood traitor again!” Druella interrupts. “I really don’t know what Lucretia was thinking, marrying a Prewett. They’ve never been as pure as us. It was beneath her, really. No wonder Molly turned out so badly. I wonder if there’s any luck for the twins…”
April, 1973
“Stay,” Bellatrix says. She watches her sister from the doorframe. Andromeda packs her trunk with a determined set to her shoulders. “You can still abort it,” she offers. “There are potions.”
Andromeda doesn’t even look at her.
“You can change your mind, Romy,” Narcissa says. She is sitting on the bed, the engagement ring on her finger glinting and new. “Mother will forgive you; Father will get Aunt Walpurga to put you back on the tapestry, just…”
Andromeda shakes her head. There are tears streaming down her cheeks, but she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t say anything and Bellatrix feels anger burning in her middle.
“You’re shaming us,” Bellatrix tells Andromeda. Andromeda looks up, shocked, but she stays silent. “He’s nothing but scum. He’s a Mudblood and you’re no better, letting that thing grow inside of you.”
Andromeda cracks at that. It sounds like laughter, and Narcissa looks alarmed, staring between sisters.
“I know!” Andromeda cries at them. She is shaking, but Bellatrix feels no pity, only anger. Anger that her sister has become this terrible, shameful thing; but Andromeda is not her sister anymore and it hurts to remember that. “I know,” the last is softer, but not weaker. Bellatrix watches as Andromeda shakes her head. “I know. There is nothing I can say, and nothing I can do to make you see Ted the way I do. There is nothing I can do to make you see that Ted is a person, and that my baby will also be a person. I love Ted, Bella, I love Ted like you love Rodolphus.”
Bellatrix frowns at Andromeda’s words. She frowns at the way Andromeda says the Mudblood’s name. “His kind is destroying us, Andromeda. You are destroying us.”
Andromeda laughs. It is cracked, hollow and disbelieving. “Mudbloods are destroying us? I’m destroying us? Oh, Bella, you have no idea.”
Narcissa stares at them both. Her hand is at her mouth, and Bellatrix thinks that her youngest sister doesn’t understand this at all.
“Stay,” Bellatrix commands.
“No.” Andromeda lifts her head.
“You’re a Black,” Narcissa says to Andromeda. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Andromeda smiles at Narcissa. It looks horrific with her tears. “Ted is a good man, Cissy. He’ll take care of me.” Andromeda closes her trunk.
“Don’t say its name.” Bellatrix looks at her. Andromeda has her wand out and is directing her belongings into a carpet bag.
“Ted,” Andromeda says. “Tonks. Theodore Tonks. Theodore ‘Ted’ Tonks.”
Bellatrix crosses her arms. “This is your choice, Andromeda. You’re forsaking us.”
Andromeda looks at her sadly before spelling the door shut, leaving Bellatrix staring at the wooden framework.
March, 1974
Rodolphus is pale when Bellatrix opens the door. The house is dark and all Bellatrix can see is his white face.
She freezes, her wand is in hand, and glances around the room. Nothing is out of place; Bellatrix breathes out.
“He’s not coming back,” Rodolphus tells her, his voice forlorn and drunk. “Rastaban is with Him, and He’s not coming back.”
Bellatrix is confused. Not coming back? “Faith,” she says. “Have faith.”
Rodolphus laughs. “Do you ever wonder if we’re right?” he asks. “Father always said that death wasn’t forever, and where is he? Dead.”
Bellatrix casts a lumos and the darkness is lifted from the room. “I don’t wonder,” she tells him, disgusted with his state. She can smell the firewhiskey; she doesn’t need to look at the half-empty bottle. “We are right.”
“He won’t come back, Bella,” Rodolphus says. “It’s been three years, and He hasn’t come back.”
Bellatrix remembers when she thought that her Lord had abandoned her. Rodolphus had been there for her then. Rodolphus had held her while she dreamed, had held her when doubt and mistrust clouded her mind. “Have faith,” she repeats.
Rodolphus reaches out. His hand is a claw trying to clasp onto her. Bellatrix turns abruptly. She is losing him.
His hand presses against her wrist and his fingernails dig in. Bellatrix draws him to her. Her wand still in her hand, she brings him closer and lets him hold on to her waist. “Oh, my darling,” she croons to him. Rodolphus buries his head in her neck, and Bellatrix can feel tears wetting her skin. “Have faith.” She runs her fingers through his hair. The spell comes to her then, as she drags her hand down the back of his head.
Rodolphus looks at her. “Imperio,” she whispers. His eyes go blank.
July, 1975
Bellatrix screams when the pain tears through her arm. It feels like burning, and she screams. It is not music.
His Mark on her arm is red and Bellatrix screams as she stares at it. The pain subsides and her lip is between her teeth, bloody and raw. This is it. This is the summons.
The Dark Lord has returned to Britain.
Her fingers curl around her wand and she goes.
Author:
quietlibanRating: PG-13 to R (Would personally, call it an M, for mature audiences).
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warnings: dark themes
Prompt: 59) It is terrible to destroy a person’s picture of himself in the interests of truth or some other abstraction.--Doris Lessing.
Summary: Little Bellatrix is growing up to be a perfect Black.
Author's Notes: Thank you very much to my most excellent beta-readers,
dreame_waever and janicechess. Any remaining errors are my own.December, 1967
Bellatrix stands out in the snow. The Christmas holidays are over, and her new cousin was born dead.
The snow falls around her as she stands by the school’s main steps. Bellatrix watches the carriages being pulled away by Thestrals she can now see. She had not realised how horrible they were, with their leathery skin and blood-red eyes.
She shivers and pulls her school robes around her tighter. The awful smell of that room where Aunt Walpurga screamed, cried and sweated fills her nostrils. It is a phantom. The blue face flashes in her memory.
She had not wanted to be in that room. She had pleaded to stay with her sisters in the drawing room, but her mother had refused. Druella had decided that at age sixteen, Bellatrix was now old enough to witness the birthing of new life.
Footfalls sound on the steps and Bellatrix looks up. The Head Girl stands on the steps with curious expression on her face. “Bella,” Molly Prewett calls softly. “What are you still doing out here?”
Bellatrix scowls at her cousin. Molly had been in that room, too. She had seen that blue face and smelled that awful stench. Molly had seen how death stole life so easily, but Molly was older, and Molly was a Gryffindor.
“Watching the Thestrals, cousin,” she replies, while taking the steps up towards Molly. “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asks.
Molly frowns. Bellatrix laughs then. Her small cackle fills the air.
Molly stands tall. Her blue eyes are not fixed on the carriages, but on Bellatrix’s face. “Inside please, Miss Black,” Molly says, transforming from cousin to Head Girl, “before I have to take House points.”
Bellatrix smirks and curtsies. “Of course, Miss Prewett,” she replies, looking one last time at the dark figures of the Thestrals. “Of course,” she says, following Molly into the Great Hall.
February, 1968
Bellatrix is walking down the Transfiguration corridor when somebody catches her arm. She turns, wand out to hex whoever has dared to touch her.
She turns to see her sister.
“Andromeda.”
“Bellatrix,” Andromeda replies.
Bellatrix raises an eyebrow. “Well, what do you want?”
Andromeda grabs her arm again, and Bellatrix shouldn’t be surprised when her sister drags her towards the Transfiguration classroom she has just left, but she is. Bellatrix almost trips.
“There had better be a good explanation for this.”
Andromeda smiles sweetly. “Oh, there is.“ She lets go of Bellatrix’s arm. “Tell him to leave me alone.”
Bellatrix doesn’t know who Andromeda means. Her sister hasn’t willingly spoken to her since Christmas, when she yelled at Bellatrix for levitating Sirius’ new puffskein out of his reach. “Who?” she asks, mildly bored.
Andromeda looks around the Transfiguration hallway, biting her lower lip. Bellatrix sighs.
“Malfoy,” Andromeda says. “Tell him to leave me alone.”
Bellatrix doesn’t believe it, and she laughs. “Lucius?” she asks. “Lucius Malfoy?”
Andromeda rolls her eyes and leans into her hip. “Do you know any other Malfoys in this school? Of course Lucius Malfoy!”
Bellatrix blinks. She honestly doesn’t understand. Why would Lucius Malfoy bother her sister? The Malfoys are an old respectable family. They are not as old as the Blacks to be sure, but they are purebloods, and they have wealth and influence with the Ministry.
”What is he doing?”
Andromeda looks at her feet. “He touches me,” she says looking up but not quite meeting Bellatrix’s eyes, “and he says things.” Andromeda sighs. “He even asked me to Hogsmeade, Bella!”
She can’t help it. Bellatrix laughs. “Oh,” she says, “oh, Romy, he likes you!” She smiles. “I think it’s splendid.”
Andromeda flushes a furious red. “It’s not!” she insists. “Lucius is creepy, and he looks at me funny, like he can’t quite figure out whether not I’m a flobberworm or a witch.” She groans. “Please, Bella, please tell him to leave me alone. He’ll listen to you. You know he will.”
Bellatrix shakes her head, amusement plain across her face.
Andromeda’s expression changes. “If you don’t,” she says, “I’ll tell Molly about your late night excursions with that Lestrange boy. You know that she’ll tell Aunt Lucretia who’ll tell Mother. And I know that Mother told you to stay away from those foreign boys.”
Bellatrix sobers. The thought of her mother finding out about Rodolphus sends a chill down her spine.
“You will not,” Bellatrix tells her.
Andromeda meets Bellatrix’s hard gaze. “I will,” she promises, “and you know that Molly will believe me. She’s always liked me better than you.”
Bellatrix clenches her jaw and her fingers curl into a fist around her wand. Andromeda’s eyes are determined, and Bellatrix feels a twisted sense of pride in her little sister. Little Andromeda is growing up to be a perfect Black.
“Fine.” Her expression remains stony. “I’ll have a word with Lucius.”
Andromeda smiles. “Thank you, Bella.”
September, 1969
Bellatrix lies in the autumn sun. Her head is pillowed by Rodolphus’ stomach. Sunlight falls on her face and her eyes are closed. She squeezes Rodolphus’ hand, further entwining their fingers.
She smiles. “Tell me about France?” she asks softly.
“France?” Rodolphus asks. “Bella, love, I’ve told you about France.”
Bellatrix sighs. “I know, but I want to know more.”
Rodolphus sits up, forcing Bellatrix to move. He lifts their entwined fingers to his lips. “Look,” he says, “here comes your sister.” Bellatrix opens her eyes and looks up at his face, she sees his frown. “And Malfoy.”
She sits up too. “Malfoy?” she asks. She faintly remembers when Andromeda asked her to speak to Lucius in sixth-year. Lucius had smirked, with laughter dancing in his grey eyes, before he acquiesced. Bellatrix did not trust him.
“Yes,” Rodolphus answers, “Narcissa, and Lucius.”
Bellatrix frowns further. “Cissy?” She turns to Rodolphus. “What would Cissy be doing with Lucius?” Bellatrix knows Narcissa should be in class. She watches the couple walk closer to the lake shore.
Narcissa smiles as she and Lucius approach. Bellatrix lets go of Rodolphus’ hand and feels guilt when he frowns at her.
“It’s a lovely day, Bella,” Narcissa tells her. “Isn’t it a lovely day, Lucius?”
Lucius smiles and nods, he and Narcissa look more like siblings than Bellatrix and her sister ever did. “It is,” he agrees.
Bellatrix resigns herself to spending some time with her youngest sister. She pats the grass next to her, beckoning her sister to sit down. “Aren’t you meant to be in lessons, Cissy?” she asks.
Narcissa blushes and looks across the ground to where the castle looms. “I know, Bella, but Lucius said that Professor Castamere would predict my not being there, and so she wouldn’t mind. Isn’t that so, Lucius?”
Bellatrix turns to Lucius. He nods, a smirk on his lips.
Bellatrix sighs. “And you believed that rot, did you, Cissy?”
Narcissa giggles and smiles broadly. “Of course not, but who are you to say. Aren’t you meant to be in lessons?”
Bellatrix looks to Rodolphus who hasn’t said a word since Lucius and Narcissa arrived. She frowns but shakes her head. “I’m in seventh year, Cissy, while you are in third; I get free study lessons, you do not.”
Narcissa turns away with a huff, unimpressed. “What are you doing by the lake, anyway? And with him? Mother said the Lestranges were worse than carrion, that they were exiled from France for practising--“
“Hush!” Bellatrix puts a hand over her sister’s mouth. She doesn’t look at Rodolphus. She can see Lucius grinning, and senses Rodolphus leaving.
“Rodolphus,” she calls with her hand still over he sister’s mouth. He doesn’t look back as he strides towards the castle. “Rodolphus!” she calls louder. He continues to walk away. “Please?” she whispers softly before turning to Lucius.
Lucius meets her stare, amusement clear in his grey eyes.
“This is your doing,” she tells him and drops her hand from Narcissa’s mouth.
“My doing?” he asks. “Pray tell, how?”
Bellatrix nods to her sister. “You brought her here, Lucius. If you hadn’t, she would be in Divination now. I’ve already told you to stay away from one sister. Do I have to tell you to stay away from another?”
“Bella, no!” Narcissa grips her forearm, drawing Bellatrix’s attention away from Lucius. “It isn’t his fault,” she tells her, “it isn’t his fault at all. I asked him to bring me here.” Narcissa glances between Bellatrix and Lucius. “I hardly get to see you anymore, Bella, and I was skiving off Divination when I ran into Lucius and asked if he had seen you. So you see, Lucius is completely innocent.”
Bellatrix looks between Lucius and her sister. Narcissa is mischievous enough, but she doubts that Lucius could ever be completely innocent of anything.
“Narcissa, back to class,” Bellatrix tells her, her gaze still fixed on Lucius Malfoy’s face.
“But, Bella…”
“Now.”
Narcissa sighs angrily but stands, straightening her robes before stepping over and kissing Lucius chastely on his cheek. Bellatrix frowns, but waits until Narcissa is out of earshot before speaking.
“What is it that you want with her, Malfoy?” Bellatrix asks.
“Want?” Lucius replies, smiling.
“Yes, Lucius: want.” Bellatrix pauses, looking over at the lake. “You seem fascinated with my sisters; Andromeda last year, and now Narcissa.” She turns to face him. “Cissy has a crush on you. She’s foolish to let you see it.”
Lucius laughs. “You aren’t going to be here forever, Bellatrix; you should be grateful to have someone to watch over your sisters.”
Bellatrix laughs at that. She laughs at the presumptuousness of that statement. “You’ll be leaving next year yourself, and besides there’s the Prewett twins and Andromeda is old enough to look after her self.”
Lucius’ amusement drops. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bellatrix watches him carefully. “No, it wasn’t, was it?”
Lucius comes to stand by her, and she looks at the shoes on his feet. They are black leather, shined and polished with new scuff marks on the toes. She looks up and he towers over her.
“The future is an uncertain thing,” she says, suddenly feeling a little too wise.
Lucius smiles and it is a grim thing. “It is.”
August, 1969
The plates in front of her disappear, but she does not notice. Bellatrix stares at the ring on her finger. It is still new, still uncomfortable, but she has gotten what she wants.
“What was he called?” Aunt Walpurga asks. “This wizard with the answer to maintaining pureblood lines.”
It is her mother who answers. The night’s wine has made Druella Black’s voice carry, and it startles Bellatrix out of her daydreams. “A Lord Voldemort or some such.”
It is then that Regulus comes scuttling through the double doors that lead into the dining room. Sirius is chasing after him, shouting loudly and calling his younger brother names.
“Voldemort?” Aunt Lucretia asks, putting down her goblet. She looks at Bellatrix with speculative grey eyes. “What sort of name is that?” Lucretia sniffs. “It certainly isn’t British.”
Bellatrix meets her aunt’s eyes. She can hear the disapproval in Lucretia’s voice. Bellatrix is marrying a Frenchman, a foreigner, and that is certainly not acceptable in Lucretia Black Prewett’s eyes.
“No,” Druella replies. Bellatrix cringes at the drunkenness of her mother’s voice. “I think he comes from Bulgaria; he certainly wouldn’t come from Russia.”
Andromeda sighs loudly from down the table. “French,” Andromeda says, interrupting the adults. “It’s French. Voldemort is a French name.”
Lucretia gives Bellatrix a look. Bellatrix smiles; she is grateful that her aunt did not bring Molly along this evening. Then there would have been double the disapproving looks.
“French?” Uncle Orion asks. Bellatrix’s heart sinks at the tone of his voice. “I still can’t believe you’re allowing your daughter to marry that Lestrange boy, Cygnus. They’re no good. I can abide by many things, but necromancy? That, I cannot.”
Bellatrix watches as her father laughs. “Have you met your niece, Orion?” he asks, sending a warm smile in Bellatrix’s direction. “Besides, Rodolphus isn’t a bad sort. It’s his father that deals with the dead.”
“Pah,” Uncle Orion sits back in his chair. Aunt Walpurga places a hand on her husband’s arm.
Walpurga looks at Bellatrix speculatively. “Tell me more about this Voldemort fellow, Bella,” she commands. Aunt Walpurga’s voice is lower, and Uncle Orion now seems content to study his wine goblet. “Is he very powerful?”
Bellatrix smiles a wide smile before answering. The diamond in her ring flickers in the candle light.
November, 1970
The fire burns brightly in the hearth, and Bellatrix tells herself that she cannot hear the screams. She tells herself that they are something else, something different. She tells herself that they are music.
The music permeates the walls, and Bellatrix isn’t shaking. She isn’t. She believes in this, and there is no doubt in her mind. This is right. This is something she needs to do.
“You don’t have to do this, Bella,” Rodolphus says. His face is cast in shadow and Bellatrix can only feel her new husband’s eyes on her. She stares at the burning flames. “I’m not asking you to do it.”
Bellatrix laughs. The sound is hollow and it echoes high above the musical screams. “You’re not asking me not do it either, are you?”
Rodolphus turns his head to look at her more clearly. The movement causes the shadows to change over his face. Bellatrix can see the stoic sadness in his eyes. He does not reply, Bellatrix does not need him to
The music stops, and Bellatrix looks at Rodolphus as a knock sounds on the door. “I’m not taking the Mark for you,” Bellatrix tells him. “I’m taking it for myself.”
Rodolphus nods and pushes his hair out of his face, revealing the twisted black Mark as his sleeve falls down his forearm. “Love is not always enough, Bella,” he replies as the knock on the door is repeated. “I did this for my father.”
The door opens and Bellatrix smiles at Rastaban Lestrange and Walden Macnair.
“Then you took it for the wrong reasons.”
January, 1971
The screaming is music now, and Bellatrix smiles. Her wand is trained on the Mudblood. She looks to her Lord; he nods.
“Crucio!” The red light spills from her wand-tip and a rush of adrenaline flows through her body. “Crucio!” she yells again, and the red light intensifies.
The Mudblood screams, and there are dull thuds of bones and flesh hitting the floor over, and over again. They are the rhythm.
A hand runs down her arm and Bellatrix closes her eyes, a content, lazy smile playing across her lips.
“Enough, Bella, enough.”
The voice is her husband’s, and the room she wakes in is dark. Disappointment pools in her gut. It was a dream, only a dream.
Rodolphus’ hand clasps her forearm, as he leans over her, worry in his eyes. Bellatrix pushes him away.
“He’s left Britain,” Rodolphus says.
Bellatrix sits up; the sheets around her are tangled. She frowns. “He will call us to Him?”
Rodolphus nods. “When we are needed, Bella. Have faith.”
Bellatrix smiles then, and lifts a hand to her husband’s cheek. “I do.”
October, 1972
“Mother, you cannot be serious?” Andromeda asks.
Bellatrix lies on the chaise lounge in the sitting room, watching Regulus piece together a jig-saw puzzle on the coffee table. She is not surprised by her mother’s news.
“I am perfectly serious,” Druella responds. “Cissy shall marry Lucius Malfoy.”
Andromeda huffs and then plops down by Bellatrix’s feet. “You’re not surprised by this, are you?” she asks.
Bellatrix smiles. “It was you or Cissy,” she shrugs. She reaches over to push a piece of a puzzle in. Regulus glares at her with angry dark eyes. What a delightful creature her cousin is. “Luckily, Cissy actually likes him. I can’t think why-- vile, ugly creature that Lucius is.”
“Lucius isn’t ugly, Bella.” Her mother looks at Bellatrix, puzzled. “He is arrogant, perhaps, but with reason: he’s quite a handsome creature.”
Bellartix looks at Druella carefully.
“Argh!” Andromeda makes wild gestures. “Lucius doesn’t love her.”
Bellatrix dismisses her mother, and raises an eyebrow at her sister. “Oh?”
Andromeda rolls her eyes. “He loves power,” she states.
Bellatrix agrees, but she is not about to let her sister know. She waves her hand. “Not all marriages are based on love.”
Andromeda snorts. “No, I know that.” She rolls her eyes. “You have to take into account the purity of blood.”
Bellatrix narrows her eyes at Andromeda and opens her mouth. “Are--“
“I hear that Molly is pregnant to that blood traitor again!” Druella interrupts. “I really don’t know what Lucretia was thinking, marrying a Prewett. They’ve never been as pure as us. It was beneath her, really. No wonder Molly turned out so badly. I wonder if there’s any luck for the twins…”
April, 1973
“Stay,” Bellatrix says. She watches her sister from the doorframe. Andromeda packs her trunk with a determined set to her shoulders. “You can still abort it,” she offers. “There are potions.”
Andromeda doesn’t even look at her.
“You can change your mind, Romy,” Narcissa says. She is sitting on the bed, the engagement ring on her finger glinting and new. “Mother will forgive you; Father will get Aunt Walpurga to put you back on the tapestry, just…”
Andromeda shakes her head. There are tears streaming down her cheeks, but she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t say anything and Bellatrix feels anger burning in her middle.
“You’re shaming us,” Bellatrix tells Andromeda. Andromeda looks up, shocked, but she stays silent. “He’s nothing but scum. He’s a Mudblood and you’re no better, letting that thing grow inside of you.”
Andromeda cracks at that. It sounds like laughter, and Narcissa looks alarmed, staring between sisters.
“I know!” Andromeda cries at them. She is shaking, but Bellatrix feels no pity, only anger. Anger that her sister has become this terrible, shameful thing; but Andromeda is not her sister anymore and it hurts to remember that. “I know,” the last is softer, but not weaker. Bellatrix watches as Andromeda shakes her head. “I know. There is nothing I can say, and nothing I can do to make you see Ted the way I do. There is nothing I can do to make you see that Ted is a person, and that my baby will also be a person. I love Ted, Bella, I love Ted like you love Rodolphus.”
Bellatrix frowns at Andromeda’s words. She frowns at the way Andromeda says the Mudblood’s name. “His kind is destroying us, Andromeda. You are destroying us.”
Andromeda laughs. It is cracked, hollow and disbelieving. “Mudbloods are destroying us? I’m destroying us? Oh, Bella, you have no idea.”
Narcissa stares at them both. Her hand is at her mouth, and Bellatrix thinks that her youngest sister doesn’t understand this at all.
“Stay,” Bellatrix commands.
“No.” Andromeda lifts her head.
“You’re a Black,” Narcissa says to Andromeda. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Andromeda smiles at Narcissa. It looks horrific with her tears. “Ted is a good man, Cissy. He’ll take care of me.” Andromeda closes her trunk.
“Don’t say its name.” Bellatrix looks at her. Andromeda has her wand out and is directing her belongings into a carpet bag.
“Ted,” Andromeda says. “Tonks. Theodore Tonks. Theodore ‘Ted’ Tonks.”
Bellatrix crosses her arms. “This is your choice, Andromeda. You’re forsaking us.”
Andromeda looks at her sadly before spelling the door shut, leaving Bellatrix staring at the wooden framework.
March, 1974
Rodolphus is pale when Bellatrix opens the door. The house is dark and all Bellatrix can see is his white face.
She freezes, her wand is in hand, and glances around the room. Nothing is out of place; Bellatrix breathes out.
“He’s not coming back,” Rodolphus tells her, his voice forlorn and drunk. “Rastaban is with Him, and He’s not coming back.”
Bellatrix is confused. Not coming back? “Faith,” she says. “Have faith.”
Rodolphus laughs. “Do you ever wonder if we’re right?” he asks. “Father always said that death wasn’t forever, and where is he? Dead.”
Bellatrix casts a lumos and the darkness is lifted from the room. “I don’t wonder,” she tells him, disgusted with his state. She can smell the firewhiskey; she doesn’t need to look at the half-empty bottle. “We are right.”
“He won’t come back, Bella,” Rodolphus says. “It’s been three years, and He hasn’t come back.”
Bellatrix remembers when she thought that her Lord had abandoned her. Rodolphus had been there for her then. Rodolphus had held her while she dreamed, had held her when doubt and mistrust clouded her mind. “Have faith,” she repeats.
Rodolphus reaches out. His hand is a claw trying to clasp onto her. Bellatrix turns abruptly. She is losing him.
His hand presses against her wrist and his fingernails dig in. Bellatrix draws him to her. Her wand still in her hand, she brings him closer and lets him hold on to her waist. “Oh, my darling,” she croons to him. Rodolphus buries his head in her neck, and Bellatrix can feel tears wetting her skin. “Have faith.” She runs her fingers through his hair. The spell comes to her then, as she drags her hand down the back of his head.
Rodolphus looks at her. “Imperio,” she whispers. His eyes go blank.
July, 1975
Bellatrix screams when the pain tears through her arm. It feels like burning, and she screams. It is not music.
His Mark on her arm is red and Bellatrix screams as she stares at it. The pain subsides and her lip is between her teeth, bloody and raw. This is it. This is the summons.
The Dark Lord has returned to Britain.
Her fingers curl around her wand and she goes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}