Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me apart from the laptop I wrote it on.
Written for the QLFC, Round 9: Shakespeare
Position: Chaser 2, Holyhead Harpies
Prompts:
Macbeth
10 (restriction) no saying any characters' names
11 (word count) 2618
14 (word) burning
Word Count: 2,618
Long after their parents had gone to bed, the three sisters sat in the darkness of the eldest's bedroom. Their hands were linked, and they chanted quietly. The eldest—hair black as ebony—had just finished her first year at Hogwarts, and had convinced her younger siblings to step up their childhood games.
Once upon a time they had practiced pretend spells, waving twigs at one another; now they tried proper magic. Not with wands, for the oldest sister was too cunning and the middle too strict with rules to let them get into real trouble. Instead, they circled around a book stolen from the library, its pages thick and yellow with age.
The idea had struck the ebony-haired sister as she'd wandered 'round the library a few months ago. As she'd flipped through the books on Divination—a subject that fascinated her—she'd become angry that she wouldn't get to try it for another year. That's when the idea had dawned on her: why not take the book home over the summer? With her sisters by her side, she'd be able to do the most complex things in here—read palms, interpret tea leaves, understand dreams, and summon spirits.
It was the latter that caught her imagination, and she'd discreetly slipped the book beneath her robes and brought it back to her common room. That night she'd pored over the last chapter, and by the time she returned home for the summer holidays, she'd learnt every ritual, every chant, every spirit good and evil which could be summoned.
On this, the night of her return, she had waited until her parents had fallen asleep before quietly waking her two sleeping sisters. Flicking to the page on summoning the spirits of the past, she had explained in hushed tones what they had to do. She saw the caution set in the eyes of the middle sister, and the fear in the ones half-hidden behind curtains of blonde hair that belonged to the youngest. But her own eyes were alive with excitement, and as she started up the ancient chant, her sisters followed suit.
The chant was in Latin, and the golden-haired sister stumbled over the alien words. A frustrated tear slipped from her eye as she tripped up over and over again, and she let out a gasp at the feel of a thin stick of wood pressing into her throat.
"You… you wouldn't use that," she whispered up to the cold brown eyes of the oldest.
"I will if you will insist on being such a sissy." The oldest threw her head back as she let out a girlish laugh, her wild black curls flowing behind her like Medusa.
"But, you'd get in awful trouble with the Ministry –" the middle sister began.
"Ha! The Ministry? They've got bigger things to deal with. Haven't you heard mother and father talking? Something big is coming. Soon. I don't think they'll be too worried about a little case of underage magic. Especially in a pure-blood household. Now relink your hands."
They obeyed, and the eldest started up the chant again. She hadn't dared to explain the outcome of the ritual to the younger sisters, fearing they would be too scared to join in. And that just wouldn't do; the three sisters did everything together.
...
It was five years before the three sisters were all at Hogwarts together. They were so similar that those who didn't know any better confused the oldest two for each other. The youngest was easily distinguishable by her fair hair, but her mannerisms were all but identical to those of her sisters. The three of them were a matching set.
Up until that boy.
The changes were subtle at first. The middle sister began spending more and more late nights in the library, and the eldest was furious when she stumbled upon one of the "study" sessions and found her sister with him. Green robes embracing yellow, pureblood mixing with the filthy blood of a muggleborn. It was enough to make her sick.
The last straw was the middle sister's refusal to take part in the calling of spirits.
"I just don't want to do it anymore," she stated simply. "They never tell us anything anyway, seeing as we can't summon the spirits of the future. All they do is tell us what's going on now, and I'm aware of that."
"Are you?" the eldest screeched. "You're aware that a force is forming? That change is coming? When I leave Hogwarts at the end of this year, it's to join the Dark Lord. To make our family proud. To keep the pureblood traditions alive. Those who stand in our way will be burned. So tell me sister, so wise and cautious, if you're so aware of what's going on, why are you taking their side? Fraternising with the enemy? Tainting your precious blood with that disgusting mudblood's?"
The shock was painted across the middle sister's face. The eldest waited for her to run, or to fight, or to deny everything, but in the end the middle sister squared her shoulders and met the eldest's fierce gaze with one of her own.
"He has a name," she said. "And a personality. And although this may be hard for you to believe—what with you being engaged to that oaf you barely know purely because of his blood status—but that's why I'm with him. I like him as a person. Merlin, I might even love him. And it's because he makes me happy, and he cares about me too, and it has nothing to do with whether his bleeding ancestors were magic or not."
She was verging on hysteria, and the eldest could see her fighting to remain calm.
"Fine," she said coolly, tossing her black curls over a shoulder. "If that's how you feel, then fine. If you want to turn your back on your family, on me, then that's just fine." She heard her voice grow pleading. She was far too proud to beg, but all the same, she didn't want to lose her sister. Especially not this one. They had grown up together, almost like twins. They were partners, keepers of each other's secrets, friends who would raid the larder at home to have midnight feasts. She just wished her younger sister would listen. "But you'll be cut off, burned from the tapestry, never spoken to again, living off you own money."
"You don't get it do you?" the middle sister responded sadly, her brown waves shimmering softly as she shook her head. "I don't care about that stuff. I'm finally happy."
It was that comment that made the eldest reach for her wand. The next day, the middle sister walked into the Great Hall, head held high, face still red and bruised. She marched straight past the Slytherin table and sat down with the Hufflepuffs, not even taking a glance back at her sisters' faces.
...
The next few months saw tangible tension between the two older sisters. They never communicated in words, only shot cold, dark looks between each other should one happen to catch the other glaring.
The eldest sister's heart grew more hardened, blackening to an ebony that matched her hair. She refused to go home for Christmas, choosing instead to spend time with her new friends, and it did not go unnoticed by her sisters that she was suddenly keeping her arms covered at all times.
"We need to start looking for new recruits," came a hushed voice from the far side of the circle where the eldest sat—a circle much larger than the one she used to make with her sisters around the Divination book. "We're leaving at the end of this year, and we need people to keep fighting on the inside. The Dark Lord needs people here at Hogwarts to fight against that pathetic excuse of a headmaster."
There were murmurs of agreement from the group, until the eldest sister cut in.
"That's all very well," she said, glancing around, "but this has to be a very… selective group. We can't go letting people in just because they're pureblood. You saw what happened with that traitor of a sister of mine. We'll have to be very… vigorous." The wicked grin that swept across her face did not brighten the dead of her eyes. "I say we start by signing up my youngest sister. She's too scared to disobey me like the other one, she'll uphold out traditions."
"Hardly the best leader though, is she?" one of the others scoffed.
"Well then," she snapped back. "Looks like you'll have to start recruiting then, doesn't it?"
...
My dearest sister,
It's so lonely here at Hogwarts since you left last year. Now I have neither you nor our eldest sister to turn to. I know we haven't spoken over the past few years, but you can't blame me really. Can you imagine what people would say? They'd call me a blood traitor too. It's too risky, especially with my newly arranged engagement. It's taken me days to decide whether or not to send this letter, but I have important news that I must share. If you do choose to reply, take care not to use names like I have done. It is more difficult to be traced back to us this way.
I have the circle of friends that I was set up with, but they're not exactly the kind of people I would choose for myself. But they keep me safe, and safety is a difficult thing to come by at Hogwarts. Even purebloods who step out of line are harshly punished, although it's nothing close to the persecution of the muggleborns. Most of them didn't come back after Christmas. I don't know if it's their parents being cautious, or whether the attacks here are truly worsening, but Hogwarts is an empty place nowadays.
So I've found something to do to keep me distracted. While the others are off plotting or playing Quidditch or doing whatever they do for fun, I've been sneaking off to the dungeons. And I found a copy of the book! The one that we used to chant from, before I could even control my magic properly. And, I'm not certain, but I think I've figured out where we were going wrong.
The little runes in the margins, they were significant. If we draw them around the circle, it makes it far easier to summon the spirits. I tried it with one of the minor chants, and you wouldn't believe the power I felt. I'm sure that we could summon the spirits of the future now—the ones we could never manage all those years ago.
But it needs all three of us together. The Weird Sisters reunited. I know she's not speaking to you, but I know she would be willing to forgive and forget for one night just to try this. That's how exciting this is. Please don't be worried about her, she would never hurt you, I'm certain of it. Growing up, I was always jealous of how close the two of you were. A bond that deep and strong doesn't just disappear because of a boy.
If you want to help us, and I truly hope you do, please meet us at the top of the Astronomy Tower at 11:30 tonight. I've spoken to one of the professors, and he'll let you in at the West gate. We'll be waiting.
Missing you with all my heart,
Your sister.
A tear splashed down on the paper as the middle sister finished reading. The suggestion that her older sister might forgive her was overwhelming. She hated the cold-hearted person her sister was rumoured to have become, but if this letter was to be believed, there might be a way to bring her back. Her best friend, buried beneath the cruelness and coldness, was still there.
It was that, more than the prospect of any spirits, that made up her mind.
"Darling, I have to go out tonight," she called up the stairs to her newlywed. "Don't wait up for me, it's… family stuff. It could take a while."
At the mention of her family, she heard the crashing footsteps as her husband raced down the stairs, shirt half unbuttoned.
"Your family? Your parents? Sisters? Sympathetic cousin or nephew? What's going on?"
"Calm down." Her laugh tinkled through the sparsely furnished room. "I got a letter from my younger sister. We three are to meet again. It's at Hogwarts don't worry, I'll be perfectly safe."
Her husband sighed. "If you say so, then I believe you. But be careful, I don't want to lose you." He pulled her tightly into his arms.
"I will be. Now, would you mind fetching my coat? I think we're due for a storm tonight."
...
"Do you think she'll come?" the youngest asked. "She's only got five minutes until she's supposed to be here, and you know she's never late for anything. Do you think they'll let her in?"
Her sister sat in stony silence, the wind catching in her wild ebony hair. The thick black curls framed her pale face, making her dark eyes stand out and giving her a slightly crazed look. If she was honest with herself, the youngest sister was scared by what the eldest had turned into.
Ignoring the youngest's questions entirely, the eldest finally spoke. "How goes the search for new recruits? I hear your numbers have been dwindling. The Dark Lord is not happy."
"We… um… there's a bright fifth year in our House who's quite keen," she stumbled. "The only problem is that he's got a thing for a muggleborn who thinks far too highly of herself in my opinion, leading him on while really everyone can see she like the Gryffindor Quidditch captain—"
"I do not care for idle gossip. We can convince him to join. Bring the boy here. Let him hear our predictions."
"But I thought we said we'd never let anyone one know about—"
"Now."
The youngest scuttled off, blonde hair streaming behind her. From the other staircase, she heard a small cough.
"Been standing there long, traitor?"
The middle sister stepped into view. "A minute or so maybe. You two seemed to be in the middle of something."
"Well, sit yourself down." The eldest wouldn't look at her. "We'll be getting started soon."
The silence grew between them, pushing them further apart than the distance they had kept between themselves for years.
After what seemed an age, the youngest returned, a lanky boy with greasy hair by her side.
"Please," the eldest said to their guest, gesturing to the floor. "Make yourself comfortable."
He watched in shock, which was quickly replaced by amazement and wonder, as the three sat in their circle. They began to chant as they quickly scribbled runes on the floor with their wands, burning bright into the stone.
Without warning, the eldest sister threw back her head, eyes closed. "All hail the Half Blood Prince, servant of two masters."
The middle sister quickly followed. "All hail the potions master, whose path is defined by love."
Finally, the youngest sister began to shake, words forcing their way out of her mouth in a voice that was not her own. "All hail the doe, who shall protect those he hates and kill those he follows."
Fear in his eyes, the boy sprinted from the room, leaning his head against the cold stone as he took deep, shuddering breaths.
Back in the tower, the sisters grinned at one another in the moonlight, their mission complete.