A/N - Bellatrix is about eleven in this (I know she shouldn't be using magic outside of Hogwarts, but I imagine her father wouldn't particularly care), Andromeda is around nine or ten and Narcissa is seven.


Bellatrix looked up at her father; she nodded once, grey eyes glinting with steely determination. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she tried to focus. She lifted her wand, hand shaking almost imperceptibly.

"No," she jumped slightly, her father's voice betraying no emotion. She wished he had shouted. "Start again."

She let her hand drop to her side. She could do this, she knew it.

She raised her hand again.

"No," the admonishment was completely unexpected this time; she was so sure she could have done it. "You have to want it."

"I do-"

"You have to want to inflict pain, not just cast the spell," he spoke with calm detachment, like he'd already decided she couldn't do it.

Her eyes narrowed, almost a glare, rage tightening her chest. He wanted pain? She would show him pain.

She raised her wand for a third time, fuelled by her anger.

"Crucio!"


Andromeda watched her father sitting in the uncomfortable wing-back chair as he flicked through that morning's issue of the Daily Prophet. His posture was perfect, and his expression blank, as though completely unaffected by the day's news.

That was probably the case.

She was still holding her book, but her eyes were focused on the father's emotionless features rather than the words on the page. It was possible that he hadn't noticed he'd drawn her attention, but far more likely that he simply didn't care.

He turned a page slowly, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Several minutes passed before she went back to her book, disinterested.

She heard him put the paper down, but she didn't look up.

"What are you reading?" she wished he hadn't asked. It was better when he didn't take any interest in her.

She didn't have any interest in him.

She answered with the same cool detachment he spoke with, giving the name of the first muggle book she could think of.

"Pride and Prejudice."


Narcissa ran into her father's study, drawing clutched carefully to her chest.

"Look, Daddy! I-"

"You know you're not supposed to be in here," he didn't even look up from his papers.

She felt her heart plummet, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She circled the desk, head held high, until she was standing in front of him.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

He still didn't look up.

"I suggest you leave before I see fit to punish you," she visibly deflated.

She wished he would. At least it would be something.

"Daddy-" she tried, one last time.

"You will address me correctly, or not at all."

Her eyes stung, but she blinked back the tears. Crying in front of him would get her nowhere.

With her eyes on her feet, she slowly turned around, drawing crumpled in her clenched fist. She stopped at the door, hand resting lightly on the frame, and whispered two words.

"Yes, Father."