Hello, fellow Potterheads! This story started out as my response to the Bellatrix/Voldemort relationship introduced in the Cursed Child. I could not wrap my brain around these two characters having a child together, so I decided to try exploring how it came about through the perspective of one of my favorite characters, Narcissa Malfoy. I have been completely fascinated by Narcissa since the day Half-Blood Prince was released and I wish she'd gotten a bit more attention in both the books and films. I think she's one of the most interesting, complex characters in the canon and I've really enjoyed writing from her perspective and giving her a bit more backstory. Let me know what you think of this first chapter. Reviews definitely help me motivate myself to keep writing and posting. :) Possible Trigger Warning: Domestic/sexual abuse.
-Mid-August, 1997-
Narcissa Malfoy was tired of all of it. She came to this conclusion for the thousandth time as she silently padded through the empty halls of her Wiltshire home. It was hours before dawn on what would be an unseasonably chilly summer morning and the rest of the manor was still silent. The mistress of the house would have preferred it no other way. This had become her routine. After a couple of hours of fitful sleep, Narcissa would quietly slide out of bed and into her emerald dressing gown and then soundlessly exit her bedroom, leaving her husband to his own disturbed slumber. Then she would pace the corridors, soaking in the illusion of normality the quiet house presented. These eerie morning hours were her only reprieve, her only chance to escape the ruin her perfect life had become
She had faced nothing but fear and anxiety ever since the Dark Lord had declared Malfoy Manor the headquarters for his rise to power. Her once quiet, orderly home had since become the scene of both raucous laughter and demonstrations of violence, with scores of unsavory characters and unfortunate prisoners trafficking in and out at the bidding of the Dark Lord, who reigned over all of it with keen manipulation and outright cruelty.
Narcissa had both witnessed and been on the receiving end of this cruelty in the months since the Dark Lord had settled in. After her dear husband, Lucius, was caught up in the debacle at the Department of Mysteries and taken away to Azkaban, Narcissa had become the target of a fair amount of softly spoken abuse and thinly-veiled threats. None of it had been intolerable, however, until the Dark Lord had press-ganged her most cherished son, Draco, into joining the ranks of the Death Eaters and tasked him with the impossible task of murdering the figurehead of the fight against Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore.
It was this that nearly broke Narcissa. This apparent death sentence upon the person she loved most fiercely had wiped away any loyalty she had previously felt to the Dark Lord's cause. Having been born into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Narcissa had learned and parroted the ideals of blood purity and elitism from her earliest memories. She supposed she still did believe, deep down, that her pedigree and wealth set her above many in the wizarding community (and any Muggle, of course), but she now realized how little she cared about any of that. The Dark Lord's most recent reign of terror had cast into sharp relief the only two things she truly cared about: her husband and her son.
As she silently glided down the corridor, Narcissa decided to detour into the manor's sizeable library. She had lately avoided this room because she knew the Dark Lord often liked to retreat there, amidst the quiet shelves of books. This time she decided to take her chances.
Pushing the heavy door open, Narcissa continued her inner musings. Apart from Draco and Lucius, she supposed she also cared a bit for her oldest sister. Bellatrix was, after all, the only other close relative she still acknowledged. Narcissa was no fool, however. Bella's years in Azkaban and obsession with her master had left her deranged and unreachable. Since her escape from prison over a year ago, Bellatrix had shown again and again that her loyalties rested only with the Dark Lord and his cause, not with her family. Narcissa knew that when all was said and done, Bellatrix could not be trusted to protect Draco or Lucius.
A small sound brought Narcissa to a halt, cutting off her stream of thought. She looked quickly around the room, hoping against hope that she had not inadvertently disturbed the new master of the house. She paused at the thought. That noise had not sounded like the Dark Lord. It had been almost a whimper.
She slowly drew her ornate black wand from her sleeve and sharply jabbed it toward the stub of a candle on the nearest end table. The candle guttered to life at once and bathed the room in a dim, flickering light. Narcissa started in surprise at the sight of her sister lying curled on the floor next to the large sofa.
"Cissy," Bellatrix whispered hoarsely, blinking groggily as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. "What-"
"What are you doing in here, Bella?" Narcissa interrupted with a harsh whisper. "It's nearly five in the morning? Have you been there on the floor all night?"
Bellatrix turned her head to look up at her sister and Narcissa quietly gasped. There was a small cut high on Bella's left cheek and a dark, angry bruise along her jawline. "What has happened to you?" Narcissa demanded. "Are you alright?"
Offering no reply, Bellatrix simply thrust out her hand so her sister could help her to her feet. Narcissa noted as Bella stood that she moved gingerly and there was a tear in the skirt of her long, black dress. With all of her questions still unanswered, Narcissa looked up from the damaged dress into her sister's dark eyes and was surprised to see them shining brightly with a crazed kind of happiness. Bellatrix clasped both of her sister's hands tightly in her own-a most uncharacteristically girlish thing to do-and pulled Narcissa down to sit beside her on the cold leather sofa.
"Cissy," she whispered excitedly, "you'll never believe- Master, he... he wanted... me, Cissy. He-" She stumbled over her words, barely able to contain herself as she tried to make her sister understand.
"Wait," Narcissa cut her off sharply. "The Dark Lord did this to you? What are you saying, Bella?"
Bellatrix flushed as Narcissa still tried to string the pieces into a proper explanation. "Cissy- Master, he said he wanted to show me… how much he valued me…"
Realization was dawning on Narcissa as she looked from Bellatrix's torn dress to the injuries on her face. Realization and immediate revulsion. Bellatrix continued, almost beside herself at the thought of what had happened.
"He brought me in here, after the others had left and- Oh, Cissy!" she finished, falling back into the sofa with a dazed and mad little cackle.
Narcissa was trying her best to swallow the bile that had risen up into her throat as she looked down at her swooning sister with wide, horrified eyes. She quickly decided that her best course of action would be to respond calmly and humor Bella a bit until she could be guided to her own bed.
"Well then," Narcissa began slowly, "It appears that the excitement is over for the night. Why don't I help you to your room?"
Bella seemed hardly to have heard her. She had reached up to gently caress the cut on her cheek, pulling her fingers away to examine the fresh blood that had begun oozing when she spoke. She wore a bemused expression as she turned back to face her sister.
"Hmmm?" Bella said, "What did you say, Narcissa?"
Narcissa firmly grabbed Bellatrix's wrist and Vanished the blood on her fingers with a fluid wave of her wand. "Let me heal that cut for you, Bella. And the bruise. Then we can retire."
Narcissa half expected her sister to protest, but Bellatrix did not put up a fight. Instead she stared ahead dreamily as Narcissa made quick work of her two most obvious injuries.
"The power, Cissy," Bella said in a quiet, awed voice, "you should have seen…"
"Perhaps not," Narcissa cut her off again, trying to block that image from her mind. "Anyway, let's get you to your bed."
Narcissa stood and pulled her sister up beside her. She firmly gripped Bella's arm with one hand and placed the other around her sister's waist, meaning to help guide her out of the dimly lit room. Bellatrix lurched a bit at the touch and Narcissa realized grimly that the bruising must not have been confined to her sister's jawline.
There had been no need for that kind of abuse, she thought, sickened. Bella would certainly have been willing enough. Narcissa doubted whether her sister could have desired anything more, the way she doted and fawned over her master.
Narcissa threw a sideways look at Bellatrix, who hadn't made another sound and was meekly allowing herself to be guided through the dark house. She still had that dazed look in her eyes and seemed to be reveling in her good fortune.
No, Narcissa thought to herself, this had not been about affection for Bella. It had simply been yet another demonstration of his power, and the disregard he felt toward those closest to him.
The thought made Narcissa's blood run cold and a renewed feeling of bitterness washed over her. She knew that she would never be able to make Bellatrix see this truth, and even attempting to would probably be dangerous.
The only sound was the gentle swishing of Bellatrix's long dress as the two women turned into her darkened, empty bedroom. Rodolphus was out of the country on an errand for his master and would not need to learn of this night's escapade. Not that it would likely matter to him, Narcissa thought. Rodolphus was nearly as enamoured with the Dark Lord as Bella was, and their marriage had always been more an exercise in decorum than a romance.
Narcissa helped Bella out of her ruined dress and into a long, silver nightgown. She tried to ignore the additional bruises she saw and instead spoke softly, kindly, to her sister as she helped her into the large bed.
"How is that, Bella? Do you need anything?"
Bellatrix barely seemed to hear her sister's questions and gently shook her head as she lowered herself onto the pillows. She gave a long, contented sigh and settled in before looking back at Narcissa with a small, impish smile. Narcissa gave her one last, appraising look before turning toward the door that led to the dark corridor.
"Master..." she heard Bella sigh, "... and he wanted me…"
Narcissa didn't turn around, but silently slipped out of the room and pulled the heavy door closed behind her. She did not want to hear any more.
Afraid of uncovering any more nighttime surprises, Narcissa decided to return immediately to her own room. She told herself to try to forget what she had just witnessed, but she doubted the nausea she was experiencing would go away anytime soon.
It was wrong, she thought, what had happened to her poor, deluded sister.
She couldn't help comparing her own relationship with her husband to the brutal treatment Bellatrix had received earlier that night. Lucius had many faults, but he had always ensured that Narcissa felt safe and cherished. She looked back with warmth and exhilaration on that facet of their relationship, and thought fondly of how it had resulted in her precious son.
Narcissa froze in her tracks, eyes wide. She felt as if her blood had turned to ice. She had just reached forward to turn the knob of her own bedroom door, but instead looked with fear back up the corridor she had just walked down. Her eyes rested upon her sister's door and she remained fixed for several seconds.
No, she thought, surely not.
There was no way a child could result from this night's events. It was unthinkable.
Narcissa's hand fell to her side and her mind began to race.
Bella was in her mid-forties, she reasoned hopefully. But no, a new mother of that age was not unheard of, especially in their magical world where many lived well past one hundred.
Alright then, the Dark Lord. Narcissa had to suppress another gag at the thought. Who could even guess what he was capable of since the destruction and restoration of his physical form?
With absolute dread setting in, Narcissa decided there was nothing for it. She could not go forward without knowing for certain.
Bracing herself, she walked resolutely back to her sister's door and silently eased it open. She knew she would have to make some excuse for being in here again if Bella hadn't yet fallen asleep, but soon found that would not be necessary. Bella had hardly shifted from her original position and now lay calm and still, the trace of a smile still on her lips.
Narcissa looked down upon her sister with pity and slowly raised her wand. Their mother had taught her this spell decades ago, after she'd first married. A little-known incantation passed down the Black line for centuries, from mother to daughter and sister to sister.
Carefully and methodically, Narcissa began to trace the complex pattern in the air above her sister's sleeping form. It had been years since she had performed this spell, not since before she had lost her second little girl. Draco had only been a year old then, but she'd already been so joyous at the thought of another child.
Narcissa forcefully pushed that thought away and concluded the intricate pattern of wandstrokes, whispering the incantation with the final, graceful sweep of her wand.
"Puecrescitas Fateo."
She stood frozen, wand arm still outstretched, and looked down at her sister apprehensively. Nothing happened. Still not daring to take a breath, Narcissa wracked her brain for a memory of how long this spell usually took to demonstrate results. Only seconds, if she remembered correctly, and then she would know for sure one way or the other. Silver or gold.
Five, six, seven seconds passed in what felt like hours to Narcissa. And then, painfully slowly, a faint glow began to radiate from Bellatrix's skin. Narcissa bit at her lower lip as her eyes struggled to adjust to the new light source. It was difficult to determine the color at first, but as the light grew brighter Narcissa seemed to feel her stomach sink to the floor. There, radiating outward from the center of Bellatrix's sleeping form, was an unmistakably golden light.
Narcissa stood in open-mouthed shock and, raising her trembling wand once more, frantically whispered "Finite!" before bolting toward the door as quietly as she could manage. The room was plunged into darkness once more and Narcissa heard her sister inhale deeply behind her. With one last quick look into the room, Narcissa reassured herself that Bella had only shifted in her sleep and remained otherwise untroubled by the disturbance.
Narcissa silently pulled the heavy door closed behind her and then all but collapsed against it, covering her gaping mouth with her hand as she tried to quietly regain her breath. Brow furrowed and eyes still wide, she looked around the empty corridor frantically as she tried to come to terms with what she had just discovered.
Her sister was carrying the Dark Lord's child.
There you go! Be sure to leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter! Also, Follow and/or favorite if you'd like to read future chapters of this story. I plan to post the next chapter within the next couple of weeks. Thanks!