Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling and these are not my characters. I am just borrowing them.
This was written for Louise Foxhall's "Three Sisters Black Competition". I hope you enjoy!
Family.
Winding a dark curl around her finger, Bellatrix gazed into the flames. With cool deliberation, she considered the word. She knew the importance of family. Blood, as they say, was thicker than water. At this, Bellatrix allowed a self-satisfied smirk to cross her aristocratic features. She felt an unparalleled pride in her lineage; the purity of her blood had assured a comfortable place in wizarding society. More importantly, though, her Black heritage had given her the opportunity to serve the Dark Lord. At the thought of him, a thrill ran down her spine.
Unconsciously, Bellatrix stroked her left forearm. Beneath her robes, the Dark Mark was etched upon her skin, a symbol of her pureblood status and the favour of her beloved Master.
Her love for him was unquestionable.
Her feelings about her husband, however, were far more ambiguous. She did not love him, her affections for her Master were too strong for that, but she appreciated his pureblood status. Truthfully, that was all that mattered.
Despite her marriage, Bellatrix considered herself – first and foremost – a Black. Rodolphus' bloodline had been acceptable, but there were few families that rivalled the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. She took pride in her roots; they afforded her a sense of superiority. She thought of those filthy mudbloods that crossed her path and her fingers twitched. The urge to hex them, to curse those who had the audacity to question her views, was ever present. How could they compare themselves to a Black?
Yes, Bellatrix understood the importance of family.
She considered, with some approval, her younger sister. Narcissa, blonde and delicate, had made a suitable match with Lucius Malfoy. He lacked devotion, but one could not question his blood. Bellatrix was an affectionless creature, but she held a soft spot for her sister. She was proud that Cissy had respected her heritage.
It was obvious that Narcissa understood the value of family.
Unlike some.
With rising anger she thought of the traitor. Once her sister, Andromeda had lost that title. Eloping with the muggleborn had, quite understandably, necessitated an estrangement. The twitch in her fingers grew stronger. Her fury at Andromeda's choice still blazed brightly, hotter than the fire in the hearth.
Clearly, Andromeda had no concept of family.
If she'd had any, she would never have abandoned them for the mudblood. The idea that Andromeda Black had taken the name of that man was repugnant, especially one as ludicrous as Tonks. She remembered, with dreadful clarity, the day that Andromeda had left them. Head held high, she had strode into the dining room and said – bold as brass – that she was engaged. For a few glorious moments Bellatrix had felt nothing but sisterly pride, certain that Andromeda had bowed to their parents' wishes. Yaxley had been sniffing around for a wife and her parents had, in no uncertain terms, informed Andromeda that he was the man of their choice. She hadn't expected what came next.
Indeed, she could remember it as though it were yesterday.
"I'm marrying Ted Tonks, father," Andromeda had said, tossing her mane of chocolate curls.
"A pureblood, I assume," he had replied, irritated. He had been annoyed at her rejection of Yaxley, but not unduly so. Even he could see Yaxley's flaws.
"No."
"No?" Their father's tone had been dangerous. "A half-blood?" He had been furious with her, dreading the shame that would come with a polluted grandchild, even if it was three quarters pure.
"A muggleborn, actually," Andromeda had replied, a cool note evident in her voice. His reaction had been terrifying. With a violent gesture he had drawn his wand, slashing at the air. Cowering, Bellatrix and Narcissa had watched Andromeda's retaliatory spell. A large shield had erupted, glimmering in the shadowy room.
"If you wish to apologise," her sister had said, trembling with rage, "I will be with Ted – the man I love." With that, Andromeda had left the room. In fact, she had left their lives.
And their family.
Years later, Bellatrix was still seething with rage. Scowling, she hurled her glass into the fire. With limited satisfaction, she watched it shatter into tiny slivers. The fragments reflected the flickering flames, little shafts of light dancing through the darkened room. She hissed. After all this time, the pain of Andromeda's betrayal still stung. Cold as her heart may have been, Bellatrix's hurt stemmed from more than bruised familial pride. Despite her protestations, the elder Black had held a soft spot for Andromeda too.
In her own way, she had loved her sister.
But Andromeda's casual dismissal of their family, of all they stood for, was the worst kind of crime. Bellatrix wished to understand. How could Ted Tonks compete with the might of the Blacks? He couldn't; that much was obvious. Bellatrix had pondered this puzzle for many years, but the answer was elusive. The reason for Andromeda's foolishness was beyond her grasp; however, Bellatrix still sought it.
One thing was clear; Andromeda did not understand the importance of family. If she had, she would never have left.
And Bellatrix's heart would still be whole.