Disclaimer: All characters belong to the one and only J.K Rowling. This is part of a short series that will tell the tales of the Black Sisters. Please review! Thanks, hope you like it! :D
She was born, the moment the clock struck midnight, on New Years. And thus, as the year 1951 began, so did the life of a curious little girl named Bellatrix Black. The night was generally dark one, but the moon still shined bright, and with it, the constellation of Bellatrix. Ellia Rosier, Druella's sister was with her during Bellatrix's birth and she quietly wondered aloud what the little girl's name would be. Cygnus Black, though, did hear that whispered thought, and gazed down upon his firstborn. He did not hold a grudge that she was a daughter. By far, he was pleased. A daughter in a Black's eyes, was a suitable heir, and with their marriages, came far more wealth and rank. But as he glanced at her heavily lidded eyes, and at the wisps of thick curls on her dainty head, and at the prominent Black beauty that had already bestowed its glory on his daughter, he looked out the window and at the Amazon star, also known as Bellatrix. Bellatrix. He ran the name through his head, and remembered its Latin meaning. Female Warrior. It was a perfect name for the perfect daughter he envisioned in his mind.
"Bellatrix Black" he said, the words rolling out. "What?" Ellia looked up, not hearing, as she was tending to her sister. "Her name shall be Bellatrix Black" said Cygnus, in a clear ringing voice. He continued, "Ellia, I shall not make you the Godmother of this one, but most likely the next. This one's Godmother shall be Lucretia, but, only if you approve my dear." He turned to his wife, and Druella responded happily "Of course Cygnus, you know how much I love Lucretia!" He bid his house-eft to summon Bellatrix's godmother, and when she arrived, they proceeded to add Bellatrix's name on the Black Family Tree. "Bellatrix Black, Daughter of Cygnus Black of the Noble house of Black, and Druella Rosier, of the Family of Princes, Goddaughter of Lucretia Black Prewett!" they cried. "Honor thy name as a Black, and honor thy vow of Tojurus Pur, and with that, Welcome Dear Daughter, to the House of Black!" finished Cygnus, and they rejoiced at last.
"Daddy! When can I see Mummy?" Cried Bellatrix Black. Her father replied rather impatiently as he entered her Mother's room, "Soon, dear child, soon, when the baby arrives. The door shut rather loudly and suddenly Bellatrix found her quite alone in the hall. Ready for another one of her famous tantrums she stomped all the way to her personal house-elf and gave the poor creature quite a smack for a two year old. "Cirina. Take. Me. To. My. MUMMY!" yelled Bellatrix, and Cirina, who always followed orders shook her head, as she could not, because of her prior instructions by Master Cygnus.
Bellatrix was very worn out by this time and huffed off to practice the new spell her Daddy taught her to do on the mudblood dummies. It was really difficult as pronunciation had to be precise for the Cruiciatus Curse!
The second daughter of the Black family was born at exactly twelve-o-clock in the afternoon. This time Cygnus's Aunt Cassiopeia was also present and demanded the right to be Godmother. So looking down at his second daughter, as beautiful as Bellatrix, but with lighter hair and eyes, he could not find a proper name. Suddenly a smirk passed his face as he thought about Cassiopeia's utter vanity and idiocy. "Andromeda, her name shall be Andromeda Black, and shall she be saved by a Perseus from her dear Godmother!" At this laughter rung through the room, and the family ritual began. During this, Bellatrix sat, staring intently at her little sister Andromeda.
Narcissa Black, born as the sun rose, the joy of her mother's world. The delicate third daughter was the spitting image of her mother, as was obvious from the moment she opened her eyes. She had silky platinum blonde hair, and soft blue eyes, framed with long lashes. Narcissa was just as bit lovely as her mother, perhaps more, as one could be with the Rosier and Black image put as one, each trait highlighting the other. But, no, she was not more beautiful than either of her sisters, yet they were all something to gaze at, to envy, and to admire. She was her Aunt Ellia's Goddaughter, and was loved to no end, as the baby of the family.
The sisters grew together, in their picturesque Black Manor. It was a inviting place, made of stone, with ivy and such growing along the walls in a magnificent design, with pools of clear water, and growing flora. With animals running amuck in the trees, and fountains of wine abundant in the estate. Each room was gloriously decorated, each detail perfected. The chambers of the girls reflected the finery of Slytherin they were expected to become, and house-elves bowed at their every wish. The dinners prepared lovingly for them could match the ones at Hogwarts itself, and their clothes were tailored to suit a Princess.
Adored the Princess's were by their aunts' and uncles, and parents. Happiness greeted them at every door.
Each day, the girls rose, in a flurry of velvet and silk and furs on their bed, only to step in the cushioned slippers at their feet. Each bathed in scented water, warm from a nearby spring. And each would wear a glamorous gown and all the jewels in the world. Days of tutors, and playmates, and nannies. All for the Black Princess's.
Not one thing could separate the sister that was the closeness of their bond. Their love for the other was limitless, and was sure to be for eternity. But how different they were! Bellatrix was a right bit of trouble, with her witty mind and stubborn character. She spent her time flying on her hippogriff, and soaring on a broom. Her charm was sure, and not a soul could send back a remark her way.
Then there was dear Andromeda, such a chatterbox. She was curious, and inquisitive, a helper to all. Poring over books for hours at a time, and daydreaming while wading in the pools.
Finally, young Narcissa, as conceited as her name. But oh, in her heart, deep, in her heart what a kind soul she was. Loving and caring and her mother's joy. A lady she was, spending her free time, simply embroidering, or knitting, or gossiping with tea.
To each her own, but one for all and all for one, twas the Black Princesses.