Repeating, this includes slightly disturbing ideas and artwork, so please read with caution.

Azzie, you asked for it, you have it. :P

Narcissa walked slowly into Bella's bedroom. The room was exactly as the eldest Black Sister had left it the day she had gotten married and had moved in with her husband. Pieces of clothing were scattered on the floor and an amazing variety of books and musical instruments were lying on her desk; tidiness had never been Bellatrix' strong suit.

The odd thing was that Bella could usually find what she was looking for in all that mess, so Narcissa skipped over her sister's skirts and corsets carefully, so as to not disturb them.

If Bella found out, she'd be furious. But Narcissa had to intrude the deepest of the deep secrets of the bedroom, because she needed the parchment with the piano score of the piece that the two remaining Black Sisters would be performing at this year's Christmas Eve Ball.

Narcissa couldn't help but feel extremely anxious as she looked around Bellatrix' things. Bellatrix was this odd combination of an outspoken and yet deeply personal kind of person. There was not much there, though, because her sister had taken anything important with her to her new house. All that was left behind was a collection of old schoolbooks and notebooks and music scores that did not include the piece of her interest. After searching the desk, Narcissa focused on the bed and the nightstand, but when she found its drawers magically shielded with an electric field, she changed her mind instantly; she doubted she'd be able to break the spells and, if Bella had booby trapped it, there was no one close to save her. She didn't want to sneak around, it made her uncomfortable and Bella wouldn't lock away music pieces, anyway.

After much fruitless effort, Narcissa came to accept that what she was looking for was not in the accessible part of the room. Only... Bella, because of the bizarre, disorganized way her mind worked, could have left things in other rooms. Like her dressing room, for example.

Narcissa approached the door of the joint room and reluctantly pushed it open. If the bedroom was slightly depressing due to its desertion, this place was rather creepy. Her sister enjoyed fine clothing and maintained, now at Lestrange Manor, a respectable wardrobe that frequently found its way to fashion magazines. What used to be a cloackroom full of beautiful fabrics, shiny shoes and matching accessories, was now just empty, with the drawers still pulled out and the mannequins naked, staring blankly at the front. Narcissa felt a chill run down her spine. She wouldn't find her piano piece here, so she quickly turned around to leave this reminder of how alone she was, when she spotted the only closet that had its doors still closed shut.

Curiosity flared up in her young chest. Bella had most likely left her old school robes in there, and yet Narcissa felt the urge to see what was inside. She walked towards the closet and her thin fingers turned the doorknob.

A horrified scream left her lips and she jumped back before she could even think about it.

A skeleton was standing in the closet, dressed in a luxurious golden dress, like some grotesque mannequin. With a second, even greater shock, Narcissa brought her hand to her mouth: she had recognised the spectacular gown. It was composed of shiny and pale golden stripes of silk and had frills of white lace. A golden chain that supported the white profile of a woman made of enamel rested in the middle of the chest. Narcissa recalled that dress very well and even better her sister's fuss about making it perfect: it was Andromeda's gown for her 17th birthday party. She had left them the same day, never really putting it on.

Someone had added a black ribbon around the skeleton's throat and had balanced the matching headpiece on the skull. Even a pair of golden earrings was hovering where the ears should be.

"Dear Slytherin," Narcissa muttered, trying hard not to be sick.

"It's nice, isn't it?" a soft, cold voice came from behind. Narcissa jumped even higher and then realised it was Bellatrix.

"Wha-What's that? What are you doing here? I mean-" Narcissa stammered.

"I came to visit and give you our music score, I had taken it with me and you need the practice more than I do," Bella said casually, offering a long parchment.

Narcissa took it with shaky hands, forgetting to thank her.

"What is that? Is it- real?"

"Real?" asked Bella nonchalantly. "Oh, you mean the skeleton? No, you silly, I took it from the school. Borrowed it, really, for a long time..."

"You took it? You made this- this thing?"

"Well, it's my closet, it'd be creepy if someone else put their stuff in it, wouldn't it?"

"Yes... creepy," said Narcissa hoarsely, her silver eyes wide and scared. "What... is it exactly?"

"I call her Skeleda, she's our other sister."

"What?" For once in her life, poor Narcissa had forgotten her manners.

"She is our sister," Bellatrix repeated content, "she is dead and not buried."

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.