Title: Sacrifice
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy, family and the war, the definition of loyalty, and how much she's willing to give. A brief scene and character sketch
Disclaimer: I do not own it, though certainly enjoyed borrowing
Author's Note: I apologize if there are any spelling, grammar, or any other orthographical errors. I wrote this quickly and didn't properly revise. If you notice any, feel free to let me know. I will do my best to amend.
I thank you in advance for reviews. They are very much appreciated.
Narcissa woke one morning and realized something was wrong. She climbed out of the bed carefully, moving gently as to not disturb Lucius. It was not yet light. The gray glow of early dawn was seeping through the curtained windows. All was silent. All was still.
She threw her robe over her nightgown and crept out of her bedroom, feeling one with the silence, a ghost. The hall was wide and spacious, utterly empty and void of life.
A stifling aura pervaded: the imminent pulse of doom. Narcissa could feel it as though it coursed through her veins. She could smell it as though it wafted on her breath, touch it as though it lived and breathed beside her.
As was customary, she swept by Draco's room, stopped by the door with her ear to the wood and waited. No sound bled from within and she tried to smother the throbbing of her heart. She thought of the Potter child and sought to calm the tightening of her throat and nerves. Her child was safe. Her child was whole.
She flitted with the shadows, feeling apart of the lightlessness. She floated down the stairs to the drawing room, feeling as she ran that she was drawing closer – coming ever nearer to the reason, to the thing of which the darkness pervaded.
Her heart swelled with fright, with suspense. She was waiting for something and couldn't stand it – could not stay herself from finding it. It drew her nearer, pulled her, beckoned her. She turned the corner, crossed the threshold of the drawing room and would have screamed if she had not expected her.
It was Bella, steaming and crumbling as a skeleton, white and broken and ugly.
"Hello, Cissy."
"Bella – what is it? What's happened?" Narcissa's voice escaped from her lips in a hiss. It tore itself from her throat without permission.
Bella smiled, a crazed, ghastly thing.
"He's gone, Cissy. He – I felt it."
Cissy felt an icy bead trickle down her spine, a feeling unlike dread, unlike fear, but shivering of triumph.
"How?" said Narcissa's lips.
"I do not – It does not matter. He has – he has gone." Bella breathed of uncertainty and fear, something that was frightening and unfamiliar in and of itself. "Rouse Lucius," she said to cover herself, drawing upon her arrogance. She demanded this of Cissy. "We – Rodolphus and I leave at dawn."
"I – where?" breathed Narcissa, dreading the answer, knowing it already within her.
"To punish," said Bella and her words trembled on the air, hung there and stayed and did not dissipate.
"Bella," said Narcissa, "No. No, let him – leave him. Please, leave me my husband…."
"You refuse?" said Bella.
"No – no, Bella," said Narcissa, sensing the desperation and lowliness in her voice, despising herself for it. "We have always served willingly. Lucius and I. You know that, Bella. Please, if it as you say – if the Dark Lord is truly…gone, then let us be. Let us – I beg you."
"You refuse?" said Bella again, her eyes widening, an aura of ragged disregard - of insanity - hanging about her almost tangibly. "You refuse to let your husband have his vengeance – to do his duty?"
"I do," said Narcissa and stopped. "I will not let you lead him to ruin."
"To ruin!" screamed Bella, looking deranged. Narcissa felt her heart jump, she leapt backward and felt her hands reach compulsively for her wand, which beckoned her in the face of a threat. Narcissa stayed her impulse. "You speak of ruin when what I seek is glory!" Bella's voice echoed off the cavernous room housed by four walls. "You speak of cowardice! You refuse to let your husband serve – to allow him to carry out his responsibility. We gave our lives, Narcissa – our lives!"
"The war is over, Bella!" said Narcissa, feeling her throat constrict, her voice dissolve to ice. "If what you say is true – if he really has gone – then why –?"
Bella looked dark. She looked dangerous, "You speak of treason, Narcissa. Treason. I have killed people for less. The Dark Lord would have your head –"
"But he is gone!" screamed Narcissa, feeling her words leap feverishly from her lips, unbidden and unstoppable. "If he's gone then he holds no reign – We're free, Bella. Can't you see?"
Something sharp and pulsing of fever struck Narcissa's face. She recoiled. She hit the wall behind her.
"You coward," hissed Bella's voice, permeating and lingering as before. It seemed unearthly somehow, as if it emanated from no living form. She lowered her hand which was as stained with red as Narcissa's cheek. "Is this truly who you are? Are these the thoughts you hide? Are you naught but a – a bloodtraitor?"
Narcissa could not speak. Her throat closed in on itself. For a moment she could not do so much as breathe. She pondered the gravity of her words, the line that she had trodden and almost tottered – to either side lay life or death.
"I am not," said Narcissa carefully, navigating her words gently and with caution. "I do not speak of treason. I – do as you will, Bella, and with honor, but – but I will not let you take my husband."
Bella's eyes hardened. Her face stiffened as though turned to stone. "You sound like her," she spat. "It is life or nothing, Narcissa. You cannot choose what you give and choose what you withhold. There is no room for doubt, for cowardice."
"I have given all," said Narcissa. She felt something like anger begin to creep into her being. She'd willingly sacrifice her sister to save her husband.
"You have given nothing!" hissed Bellatrix, "You dare not even brand yourself with his sign. Show me your left arm, Narcissa – is there anything there? I alone have given him all. I give him my life – my heart – continue to show my allegiance even if he has gone. I refuse to believe he is dead. I – I will search for him. I will punish his enemies –"
"I gave him my husband! You, my sister!" shouted Narcissa, "My whole-hearted allegiance is with your cause. But why – why, Bella, should I continue to give when that cause is lost?"
"The cause is not lost!" shrieked Bellatrix. "The cause is never lost when there are still those to fight for it, still those to rise and take charge –"
"Who, Bella?" spat Narcissa, "Who will take charge? You? Do you dare to impose that you are worthy –"
"I am willing!" said Bella with power, hoisting her head to strike that haughty pose so familiar in childhood.
"And you think that is enough?" said Narcissa. "It is not. It takes something more, Bella. Something more. Perhaps the Dark Lord had it, yet he is gone. Perhaps – perhaps…. But I prefer to hold with what is certain. I stand with my husband and child, Bella, because they are all I have left. They are here and will not leave. They are mine."
The shallow wailing of a baby drifted through the floor above them. For the first time since his birth, Narcissa turned a deaf ear to Draco's call. She was wholly absorbed with her sister, this danger before her.
"What is this?" said Bella, sounding shocked and poisonous. "You have the gall to choose your family – to choose this over your master?"
"Yes! Family is everything," said Narcissa, "Is that not what you'd always tell us? Lucius and Draco are my family, Bella. They are my blood. They are my loyalty. I will not let you – I will not let the Dark Lord take them from me."
"You sound like her," said Bella again. "She spoke of the same thing and where is she now?"
"Safe," said Narcissa without thinking, the words leaping from her throat. "Andromeda is safe, and with her the mud-blood and their brat. They are safe, and away from this evil…."
"You dare –" said Bella tremulously and with power, "You dare to suggest –"
"That perhaps Andromeda chose rightly?" said Narcissa, "Yes. Perhaps that is what I suggest."
"Then you truly are a traitor," said Bella at last. "You surprise me, Narcissa. I had no idea that you had fallen this far."
"You do not understand," said Narcissa. "You know nothing of love. You do not love Rodoplohus. You have not a child. You – I was once like you. I came to Andromeda and pretended – beseeched her not to – but I did not understand. Just like you, Bella. Just like you I did not understand as I do now."
"You – you do not know what you are saying," said Bella, her voice leaking of shock, hiding anger and perhaps pleading. "You do not mean it. You –"
"I am in full possession of my wits, Bella," said Narcissa. "And I grow weary. Do as you will, but I will not send Lucius away with you. He served his time, served with honor – nothing more is asked of him."
A look of hatred crossed Bella's face. For a moment Narcissa was afraid. Bella was not in her right mind. She had never been – not since – and Narcissa was afraid of the power that radiated off her sister's form.
"Then this is what you choose?" said Bella quietly, with a threat hidden beneath the keen of her voice. "You refuse to serve? I never thought that you, Narcissa – I never thought you would fail to cowardice."
"I do not refuse to help you," said Narcissa. "You, too, are my blood. My loyalty lies with you. You will always have a refuge – you may always return."
"I will not return," said Bella. "I must leave – at dawn – we will punish them…."
"Bella," said Narcissa, feeling a sharpened pang in her chest as horror washed over her, "Bella, if you will not leave Andromeda then at least give me Lucius. Please – do not touch my family –"
"I give you your life, Narcissa. Is that not enough?"
"Not – not Lucius. Do not touch my child –"
"I will not touch your family." She was gone in a whirl of green flame, gone before Narcissa could open her mouth again, gone before she had registered Bella had moved before the grate. The door behind her creaked and Lucius entered, looking and pale and haggard, having listened at the keyhole.
"The Dark Lord?"
"He's gone," said Narcissa, "No doubt you heard." Her blood was surging through her veins. The abruptness of Bella's departure had left her shaken, off-balance. Her voice was cold and curt.
Lucius addressed her with an expression unreadable. Perhaps he meant a certain significance, perhaps approval or perhaps disappointment, to be read in the folds of his voice. He met her eyes and whispered hoarsely, "I did."
It was fifteen years hence when Bella appeared in her drawing-room again, drawn and wasted, punished for the crimes committed that morning. The screams of the Longbottoms lingered in the air, overtaking the cries of anger between two sisters – which had perhaps been forgotten in the shadows of that place. Draco was grown – not a man – but grown, and fostered in captivity. Lucius was trapped in the same horror that had relieved Bella of her sanity. For all her efforts Narcissa had failed, not given up, but failed. The cause was not lost when she was still there to fight for it, to rise and take charge.
She was willing. She was worthy.
Bella, lovely Bella who'd been stripped of her beauty, her life, her sanity, raged the same thing – she was willing, she was willing – and did not understand.
Yes, My Lord, he is dead.
Fin.
2. Author's Note: I relay you to my story Spectrum, out of which this is a deleted scene. Also, this draws parallels to my Sirius and Andromeda story Bondage. Please check them out on my profile if you feel the need or have the time.
Some bad poetry: Thanks in advance who do / Please drop a line/ That would be fine/ For I love a good review
