For Love of a Black

The Black sisters weren't taught much about love growing up. Loyalty, yes. Nobility, definitely. An understanding of their position within the upper echelon of wizards, as one of the few remaining pureblood families, without a doubt. But not love.

They were never neglected – raised in a mansion, even if it was a little older, showered with expectations, they'd always known to expect the best. And when their parents went out – rare, in those days, for there were very few with whom the Blacks felt it proper to associate, they would have a nearby neighbor, a Squib, watch the girls.

"Hardly appropriate for one of them to be keeping watch," their mother would say, long nose upturned. Their father agreed.

"But hardly appropriate for them to be alone," he would say, and then squat down beside the girls. "Remember, now, you are not to consort with that woman. She will do the cooking and cleaning for you."

Bellatrix, ever eager to please their demanding parents, kept them away from the housekeeper at the beginning.

"But I'm hungry," Narcissa would whine at the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.

"Cissy, just wait," Bellatrix would snap. "She'll be out in a bit and then we'll eat."

"I don't understand what the problem is," Andromeda would mutter. "She's still a pureblood."

Over time, however, the kindly Squib (and the delicious meals that she cooked) wore the girls down, Cissy first of course.

"What are you doing?" Bellatrix hissed at her blond little sister.

"I'm hungry," the baby of the family had said. Used to getting her way, she stomped her little foot and headed into the kitchen. Andromeda shrugged and followed her in. Bella, however, remained devoted to their parents, and refused to enter.

The Squib told the two girls stories, delightful stories, ones they'd never heard from their parents. Stories about princes and princesses, kind dwarves and evil stepmothers. Bellatrix would listen at the door, refusing to step foot inside, but just as curious as her younger sisters.

They began playing games when the Squib was there, and then later, even when she wasn't. Their parents didn't pay much attention, as long as they were properly attired when guests arrived, and didn't cause too much noise. They would go up to the attic, where their mother kept their old ballgowns. They were try them on and twirl around, imagining a love from the stories.

"I'm going to marry the most powerful wizard," Bella whispered. They lay on the ground, and her long, black hair surrounded her like a shroud.

"I'm going to marry the richest wizard," Cissy echoed her older sister. Andromeda took a moment longer to answer.

"I don't know if he'll be rich or powerful," she said slowly. "But he'll love me. . .really love me, the way Prince Charming does."

And then they girls would giggle, stash the dresses away, and hurry downstairs, dusting each other off as they went so that their parents wouldn't be suspicious.

The Black sisters never saw real love, not until they went to Hogwarts. Even there, they saw only teenage love, not real, and certainly not like the stories they'd been told. They were beautiful, of course – Bella always received the most attention, with her porcelein skin and carved features. She was the first one to go out with a boy, and her sisters listened breathlessly to her that night in the dorm.

"It wasn't great, really," Bella said. She snuggled deeper into her quilt, trying to avoid the deep cold of the Hogwarts dungeon. "I mean, he was nice enough, but a bit daft, really."

"Not Prince Charming, then?" Cissy sighed wistfully.

"Well, he's just a boy," Bella had said, and even in the dark her sisters could imagine her nose turned up. "Now Professor Slughorn. . .he's much more powerful."

"Ew!" Cissy screamed, while Andromeda threw a pillow across the room at her.

As she grew, Andromeda proved even more popular with boys than her older sister, if she was never quite as beautiful. But she was kinder, gentler, and there were no rumors circulating that she would hex a poor kisser. She as well, though, would lie in bed with a sigh, and wonder about her Prince Charming.

Bella graduated from Hogwarts, high honors, though all of the teachers seemed a little pleased to have her gone.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Narcissa said through tears as she hugged her older sister good-bye.

"Oh, don't!" Bellatrix said. She'd always had a weakness for the baby, and she smiled gently, a smile rarely seen on her hard features. "I'm going to travel the world and then I'll tell you all the best places when I return!"

And that was the year, the magical year when love first entered the lives of the Black sisters.

Bella got engaged, which was what brought it all about. Narcissa clapped her hands together and danced around the room when she heard the news.

"Oh, Drom, isn't it wonderful?" she trilled, her laughter echoing off the cold walls of the dungeon. "She's found her Prince Charming!"

But Andromeda wasn't so certain, reading the letter penned in her sister's hand. There was no mention of love – just that he was "good stock" and "Pureblood".

"That doesn't seem like enough reason to marry someone," she said, but her silly younger sister, all blonde curls and silly dreams was too busy dancing to hear her.

All of the Purebloods were invited to the wedding – no expense was to be spared.

"Should we really invite those. . .blood traitors?" their mother had asked, a sour look on her face.

"Might as well," their father had said. "Still pure bloods, after all. . .and it is our first daughter. Marrying a Lestrange!"

Bella insisted on a black dress. She did look striking in it, but Andromeda thought it reminded her more of a funeral than a wedding.

"Oh, Bella, isn't this wonderful?" Cissy said the night before, sitting on the bed and twining dark ribbon through her golden hair. "And we're to be bridesmaids! I do hope that the groomsmen are handsome."

"I don't know them well," Bella said woodenly. She was staring into the mirror. She hadn't forgotten their dreams of Prince Charming over the years. . .but between the seven spent at Hogwarts and the two traveling the world, she had given up on ever meeting a man she could love. She had never met a wizard more powerful than she. . .excepting, of course, Dumbledore, but he was a blood traitor. And old.

"Hmm. . .Lucius Malfoy and Anton Dolohov," Narcissa said the names dreamily, staring at the ceiling

The wedding went off without a hitch, and Bellatrix Black, in the course of an afternoon, became Bellatrix Lestrange. Narcissa, meanwhile, met Lucius Malfoy, and Andromeda met a strange little man named Arthur Weasley.

"But aren't you a pure blood?" she asked the man curiously during the reception, while Bella was thanking everyone for attending, and Cissy was dancing again with the Malfoy man. "So why do you like those Muggles so much?"

"Er. . .can't really say," he said nervously, rubbing a head that was already beginning to bald. "I mean. . .I don't reckon there's anything wrong with them."

"They aren't wizards," Andromeda said, whispering now.

"Well, neither are Squibs, and we don't act like they're the scum of the earth," Arthur said, before excusing himself to find his wife. Andromeda remembered their Squib sitter – their parents had certainly treated her like the scum of the earth. But she'd really been a lovely old lady. . .

Within a year there were rumors circulating of a Dark Wizard who was rallying troops to defend the pureblood. Bella heard only the briefest of rumors, and turned to her husband in bed, saying, "we must. . ."

"Oh, we'll find him, darling," Lestrange said with a throaty murmur. "And we'll join him."

Well, Bella thought, it wasn't that far from love.

In Hogwarts, Andromeda was doing something that nobody in her family had ever done – befriending the Gryffindors.

"Hello," she said, sitting down at their table one day after a particularly intense Quidditch match. They all stared at her, in her green and silver robes. Slytherins had never joined their table. Not that they disliked Andromeda – everyone at school knew of the Black sisters, of course, the most beautiful girls in school, and they all knew Drom was the nicest, but even so.

"Urm. . .I met a Gryffindor the other day," she said, decided to forge on. "Arthur Weasley. . ."

And that, apparently, was all that it took to gain acceptance in Gryffindor, as two redheads promptly introduced themselves, shaking her hand, and the entire table erupted into laughter and cheers.

"Good move, that," the cheerful looking boy to her left said. "Mentioning a Weasley. They're the bread and butter of Gryffindor – pretty sure the schools' never been without one."

"Oh," Andromeda smiled. "A bit like the Blacks, really. . ." here she paused again, and glanced down the table to where little Sirius, a first year, was studiously ignoring her. He'd begged her and Cissy not to mention that they were cousins, and apparently even with her there, was continuing the anonymity.

"Anyway, you're Andromeda, of course, everyone knows you," the cheerful boy blushed a little when he said that, but kept on, sticking out his hand. "I'm Ted Tonks."

"And does the Tonks family traditionally belong to Gryffindor?" Andromeda asked. She knew that there was a certain haughtiness to her voice, and her chin was a bit high, but she'd swallowed plenty of pride already. Ted looked incredibly awkward at the question.

"Er, no. . ." he said slowly. "That is to say. . .I'm the first in my family to come here."

"Oh, excellent!" Andromeda said excitedly. "A Mudblood!"

She didn't tell about her encounter to her sister that night, even after countless questions and proddings. And she didn't tell her that they met to walk on the grounds the next night, or that sometimes they sat in the Astronomy Tower together. At first Cissy was relentless, wondering where she was, but then Lucius Malfoy began showing up at Quidditch matches, and Hogsmeade weekends, and it suddenly became very easy for Andromeda to twist her sister's interests.

It was no surprise to anyone at the end of the year when Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black announced their engagement. Once again the Black sisters found themselves drawn together the night before a wedding.

"Is it wonderful, being married?" Cissy asked their oldest sister, a note of nerviousness in her voice.

"It's all right," Bellatrix said, a bored tone in her voice. The truth was that she was bored of Lestrange – very bored, indeed. But they'd just met the new dark wizard, a dark, handsome man who called himself Voldemort, and the magic they'd seen him perform had set her very being atingle.

"Well, I'm sure my marriage will be perfect," Narcissa said, with the familiar tilt of her chin. "Lucius is so handsome, and so wealthy, and he treats me well."

"Do you love him?" Andromeda asked, thinking of a slightly plump, young man.

"Oh, grow up," Narcissa said sharply. The words had cut her deeply – like Bellatrix, she'd never forgotten the dream of Prince Charming, but really, Lucius was as close as one could get. He was handsome, and he was rich, and he very nearly was a prince – he was pureblood, at least, a line stretching back as far as the Black's. It had to be good enough.

A year later, love cemented itself in the lives of the Black sisters. Bellatrix had joined ranks with the most powerful wizard alive – her husband had become a second thought behind this dark stranger. He loved magic as she did, and loved power as she did, and was going to see to fixing the Wizarding World. And he valued her loyalty, in a way her parents never had, in a way even Lestrange never had.

Andromeda married that cheerful little boy, against her parents wishes, against even her sisters wishes. There was no gathering of sisters to see the final bride off – only two handwritten letters, delivered by one owl.

Narcissa Malfoy gave birth to a child, and suddenly that missing spark of love from her marriage came flooding into her. She stared at the perfect child within her arms – the soft, downy hair, the clouded grey eyes. She touched a finger gently to his perfect, perfect nose.

"Well, done, Narcissa," Lucius murmured as he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and a hand on her shoulder. She barely even heard her husband, though, for the baby gave a burp.

Andromeda sat down on her bed, alone, no bridesmaids to twine ribbon through her hair. She opened the first letter, from her older sister.

Dromeda,

I cannot believe that you would deign to marry a filthy Mudblood. Those Muggleborn are destroying the purity of the wizarding race. As you know, I have joined the ranks of a great and powerful Wizard, who will see to the preservation of our people. Voldemort has shown me how foolish it is to live in the same world as those ignorant Muggles. I shudder to think my own sister will be shacking up with one.

You say that you love him. I hope that's true, because you will be losing the rest of your family. I am sorry, Drom, but if you walk down that aisle tomorrow, you and I can never call ourselves sisters again.

I hope that you reconsider. Voldemort is looking for new followers. I could speak with him – he trusts me – and he will forgive you this lapse. Consider it.

Bella

Andromeda wiped a tear from her eye. It wasn't very different from what she'd been expecting – not very different from what her own parents had told her, what even Ted had told her. Marrying outside the purebloods was simply not done. Still, she was happy to see the fire back in her sister's words – that ambition and heat had been missing since the marriage.

She then picked up the second letter – a much shorter one.

Drom,

Well, I imagine that you're going through with it, sullying the blood and all that. I wish you all, nonetheless. You are still my sister, though I will be unable to recognize you as such from this point on. After all, Malfoy is ambitious, and it simply would not do.

Draco is doing well. He is my heart and soul. I pray only that you love Ted as much as I love my son – otherwise, I regret, this folly of yours will be cause for much pain.

Cissy

There was a picture attached to the note – an anemic looking baby, clutched in her sisters jubilant arms. There was no tears this time, Andromeda simply set the letters in her draw, and picked up her bouquet.

The Black sisters weren't taught much about love growing up. It was a miracle that they'd learned how to feel it at all. A miracle that Bella could give her heart and soul to another, a miracle that Andromeda could throw away her life for a new one, and a miracle that the spoiled Narcissa could give it all up for one little boy.