Disclaimer: Not mine, you know the drill.
Author's Note: I love the bond between Bellatrix and Narcissa. It fascinates me to sit back with the Half-Blood Prince book and to read what could be a fictious version of myself and my younger sister.
Narcissa Malfoy was enjoying her routine evening glass of red wine when a noise sounded from the basement that made her spill the drink. The wine soaked through her dress until she could feel the liquid trickling down her stomach, causing the blond witch to curse under her breath. She made her way to the basement door and pulled her wand out as she yanked the heavy door open.
"Lumos," She whispered, raising her wand. The tip of the magical branch illuminated, lighting the way for Narcissa to safely descend the aged stairs into the dank bottom floor of her home. She slowly looked from left to right, her blue eyes scanning for anything that could have made that noise. Not a single object seemed out of place, not upon the first glance. Just as Narcissa was about to go back and finish her bottle of wine, there was a rushing of robes and a female appeared in front of the blond witch.
"'Cissa!" The woman cried, pulling Narcissa into a hug. The blond witch did not reciprocate the embrace, which made the unidentified woman relinquish her hold.
"How did you get in here?" Narcissa demanded, her voice taking on an unfamiliar harsh edge.
The woman cleared the strands of hair from her face with a scoff. "You don't even recognize your own sister? Pity."
With a soft gasp, Narcissa moved her wand up closer to the woman's face. "Bellatrix?" She asked quietly, her voice trembling almost as much as her hands. "I don't believe it…"
Bellatrix nodded, a smile appearing on her face. "About time," She laughed, although it was a dry sound.
"Where've you come from?" Narcissa whispered, her eyes wide with fascination. She had yet to realize just how awful her sister looked. No, that was something that she would grasp later into their reunion.
"The Ministry," Bellatrix's tone matched that of Narcissa. "The Dark Lord—"
"He's truly back?" Narcissa interjected. Bellatrix paid no attention to her sister's brief lack of manners.
"The Dark Lord and the Potter boy were in a duel."
Narcissa's eyes became even wider. "You saw them? Dueling?"
"I narrowly escaped!" Bellatrix cried. "Potter was going to use one of the Unforgivables on me!"
Distracted from her sister's dramatic recollection, Narcissa allowed herself a moment to look at Bella. The eldest of the Black sisters, Bellatrix had always been the most beautiful. Her glossy black hair was often the subject of mid-morning jealously, the way there was never a hair out of place and how Bellatrix never seemed to experience a day of bad grooming. Although most of her time was spent in her bedroom, Bellatrix had a lovely complexion. Fair, mostly from the lack of sunlight she was exposed to in her bedroom, yet still magnificent. Once reaching her teen years, Bellatrix took every chance she could to show off the fact that she had breasts and her friends didn't. This also made her sisters envious. They wanted to wear flowing ball gowns that clung to their chests and seemed to attract the most handsome of young men. Yes, Narcissa and Andromeda had been covetous of their older sister. That was before her stay in Azkaban.
Fourteen years in the wizard prison had taken a noticeable affect on Bellatrix. Her hair was still just as long, but it now lacked the shine that the witch had once held so dear. The fanatical woman's skin was dirty, patches of mud and other unidentifiable substances sticking to her visible skin. Narcissa's eyes wandered down her sister's once full form, tears stinging her blue orbs as the sight struck her with an unexpected force. She realized what fourteen years in prison had done her to older sister. Bellatrix was malnourished, her cheeks hollowed and collarbone protruding in a way that looked painful.
Narcissa took a step forward, swallowing her emotions as she spoke. "Bella, what happened?"
"Dementors," Was Bellatrix's short reply. Although Narcissa was waiting for her sister to expand on the short answer, Bellatrix's lips remained sealed. She was in no mood to relieve the terrors that were associated with Azkaban. That simple response would have to fuel Narcissa's imagination until Bellatrix was ready to share more. The younger Black was not so stupid as to argue with her sister.
Realizing that her sister was bound to grow impatient with the silence rather quickly, Narcissa cleared the questions about Azkaban from her mind and began speaking. "Do tell me more," She said in an excited whisper. "The Dark Lord and Harry Potter?"
Bellatrix nodded eagerly, her tangled hair falling into her face. "In a duel! Oh, Cissy, it was astounding."
Nodding half-heartedly, Narcissa lead her sister up the creaky stairs to the first floor of the Malfoy home. Less than intrigued by the specifics of her sister's evening, Narcissa was more focused on making sure that Bellatrix was well-fed and bathed. Surely fourteen years was long enough to wait for a hot meal and a warm bath. Taking Bellatrix by the crook of her elbow to aide her weak older sister as the pair ascended the staircase, Narcissa found herself relieved to see Bellatrix. The two had not spoken in over a decade, since the dementors stopped giving Bellatrix the letters from her family. Things seemed to pick up exactly where they had left off, except the roles had been reversed. Bellatrix was now the dramatic sister, while Narcissa was caring and gentle.
Despite their ups and downs, the bond of the sisters was not a fragile article. Narcissa realized this rather suddenly as she helped her sister up the set of stairs. "Almost there, Bella," Narcissa soothed quietly. Fragile bonds never were present in the Black family. The connection was either both visible and strong, or it did not exist. Although she would never willingly admit it, she was glad to see that her bond with Bellatrix had been able to withstand time and all that they had been through.