Author's Note: A look at the three Black sisters before disagreements and prejudices drove them apart. As for the poem, I had intended it to have a very different format structurally, but of course those wonky formats wouldn't work on this site. But anyways- let's sail on. Any comments and constructive criticism are appreciated!
Disclaimer: The following is a piece of fanfiction. No money is made off this. There is no copyright infringement intended; all characters, concepts and backgrounds belong to J. K. Rowling.
On the levels-a-lone,
Here we are,
in the snow
in the sand
in the earth
in (wherever you like),
in the end, only
Us.
Draughts
The three of them were sisters, and they used to play together, out behind the woods or up in the garret when it rained. That rough, musty garret was their childhood haven and their sanctuary: up there they could become anyone, anything. Dreams were spun there, stories were told, nightmares were revisited, and secrets were whispered.
"What do you want to be?" the youngest of them asked one foggy day, her fair hair falling and catching the light as she leaned forward and hugged her knees in anticipation. "What do you want to do, when you're all grown-up?"
"I don't really know, Cissa," the middle sister replied thoughtfully, and then young Cissa looked to her eldest sister, whose eyes were dark with enthusiasm.
"I'd do the family some good," she cried, "I'll be someone they take notice of," and Cissa's eyes rested upon her more reverentially than ever.
"I'm sure you'll be, Bella," she answered with absolute belief. Her three dolls, half-dressed and missing shoes and cloaks, lay forgotten beside her.
"We all will," Bella said confidently, and her heavy gaze dared them to say otherwise. "We will. Won't we, 'Meda? You know I will. Just you two wait. I just wish..."
"What?" The middle sister asked, somewhat impatiently. The two elder sisters had been playing draughts. 'Meda had just spotted a good move, and her fingers itched to play it before Bella's black pieces noticed the danger.
However, thoughts of draughts were inconsequential to the oldest Black sister as she replied with an odd tone in her voice, "I just wish we could do things now. To show them. I'm tired of this."
"What do you mean?" Cissa asked, ignorant. But her adored sister was rambling again.
"Don't you get tired of all this? 'Girl, do this, do that. No, you can't, you're too young'. Going up and down, out and in, and always doing the same thing. Don't you get tired? This waiting? I guess not. You probably don't care. But I do! Why else would I hide up here? Because I like this stupid garret?"
"You don't?" Cissa gazed up at her sister with big eyes that shone more brightly than ever.
"'Least it's ours," 'Meda supported Cissa quietly. "Stop it, Bella. You're being an idiot. You never used to be like this-"
The draughts board went flying as Bella kicked at it. Her hands were clenched tight. The pieces were scattered, rolling all over the rickety floor.
"Bellatrix!" 'Meda exclaimed.
A tear rolled down Cissa's pale cheeks. Bella glanced at the tears and her tantrum subsided as quickly as it began. She said, gruffly, "All right, all right, you weak cry-baby. Look, I'm not mad at you. I'm just sick of it all, not being able to do anything."
"You'll be doing something soon," Cissa reminded her, through tears. "You'll be going away to school again next month. And 'Meda will go with you this time, and I'll have no one."
"Yeah," Bella murmured, and her eyes lowered. "School."
"I'll miss you," Cissa pressed.
'Meda nodded, and together the three of them began to pick up the pieces. The storm was over. They set up the board again, and Cissa returned to her dolls.
On the levels-a-lone,
We are
holding
supporting
leaning
standing
(whatever you like),
never-ending for
Us.
"But, you know," 'Meda said quietly, out of the blue, "I'll miss this place."
"I'm scared that we- " Cissa began, a deep-seated fear making its way tremulously to her lips.
"Scaredy-cat! We'll find another at school," Bella cut in decisively, and was rewarded with a watery smile from her pet sister. "We'll make another. And we'll have games in it, and, yes, 'Meda, we'll play draughts, and- "
"-And talk about boys?" 'Meda suggested slyly, and they all laughed with girlish hilarity, the rafters resounding with the carefree mirth of childhood. Cissa blushed.
"Yes," she whispered, "May we?"
This set off another round of giggles. "Someone's eager," Bella commented, waggling her eyebrows to great effect. 'Meda slapped her arm lightly, admonishing. There was a pause as they all regained their breath.
"Still," Cissa continued, "I do wonder what will happen when…when we're like mother. Grown-up, I mean. Will we—?" She looked at her two sisters sitting together, with their dark heads bent close over the draughts board, and she could not finish. She did not know how, and ended lamely, "I'm scared."
But dear Bella only gave her a smirk, a quick grin come and gone like lightning, a lofty smile with a hint of the world-weary air that only an older sister could summon. 'Meda, watching them with some envy, shifted on her seat said loudly, bracingly,
"Don't worry about that, Cissa."
"But I do."
"Don't. How about that? Now, would you like a new cloak for Miss Dorothy? Hers is getting a little ragged. If you like I'll sew you one, no trouble."
"But-"
"Look here!" Bella exclaimed abruptly, and with some anger. "You leave her alone, 'Meda. What proper Black would want to play with dolls? Leave those puppets, Cissy, and I'll teach you how to play draughts. It's about time. Here, take my spot and I'll tell you what to do."
And the three sisters bent over the board, unconscious and unknowing of time. It was all the better for that innocent ignorance, and, somehow, all the worse.
On the levels-a-lone,
We are still
Here
There
(wherever whatever you like)
Where?
(I am here there and everywhere)