Summary: Narcissa has unknowingly killed her sister, Bellatrix, and is forced to deal with the repercussions. Story revised on Sept 2/2010.
Warning: Suicide and Character death.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The war was over. The Boy Who Lived succeeded in killing Voldemort. Wizards and witches celebrated for seven straight nights and days. Many were lost in the war, from both sides, but those on the Light Side that perished were widely regarded as heroes and heroines.
Some survivors had to deal with the consequences of their actions. They had to live with gut-wrenching guilt for the rest of their lives. Sadness engulfed them and thoughts of suicide would gradually begin to take over their lives.
Narcissa was one of these survivors.
She had killed Bella. She didn't mean to. She didn't know it was her behind the mask. And now, she would give anything to have her maniacal sister back. But Bella was never coming back to life again. Bella would never be there for her. Bella would never tease her anymore. Bella and Cissy's sisterly bond was irreversibly shattered. And this was all Cissy's fault, of course.
When they were younger, Bella had done many cruel things to all creatures and people. But their parents knew that Bella had darker tendencies, and so she was never punished. She took pride in being the one to inflict the most damage on something or someone. She derived pleasure from torturing people. She loved the thrill that came with killing innocent Muggles. She was, in essence, the bad child.
Cissy was different. She enjoyed playing with dolls, taking etiquette lessons and learning the ways of a pureblood housewife. She was going to marry someone rich someday and live the life of luxury, not that her life wasn't luxurious enough already. She was, in essence, the good child.
Despite their differences, they shared a very special bond. This bond ran deeper than all other bonds in their lives, even the one between Bella and He Who Must Not Be Named. It ran deeper than the bond between Narcissa and Draco. It was the bond of sisterhood. And the only thing that could break this bond was death. Narcissa broke it.
On that fateful night, Narcissa did not realize she was battling her dear sister.
But all the signs were there.
The insane cackling, the merciless torrent of killing curses, and the exceptionality of dueling skills…How could she not realize it?
Everyday, she told herself that it was an accident. It was nobody's fault, and especially not hers. She did not kill Bella, the gods did. But inwardly she did not believe this. Oh no, it was completely her fault and her fault alone. She was a murderer and deserved to die. She had no place on this earth any longer. The guilt tormented her for years on end. The heartache felt like acid disintegrating every part of her body. The remorse was unbearable and soon Cissy felt like killing herself to stop the pain that ate her up and sliced her like a million tiny machetes.
She had no one to talk to. Lucius, of course, was dead. Killed by one of the pauper Weasleys. Draco closed everyone off after losing the one man he looked up to – his father. He had moved out and the last she heard, he was going out with Mudblood Granger. Not that she cared much. He wasn't worth her time.
The insanity of guilt was overwhelming. It showed no signs of backing down and only increased with intensity.
Enough was enough.
Standing in front of a large mirror in one of the many ballrooms of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa took a deep breath. This was it. She simply had to stop this agony. She wanted out. Summoning all her magic and strength, she screamed, "Avada Kedavra!" She braced herself for impact. A jet of green light shot from the tip of her wand and bounced off the mirror, missing Narcissa by a mere inch.
If at first you don't succeed, try again, thought Narcissa grimly.
Taking another shot at the mirror and angling her wand slightly differently, she put all her being into "Avada Kedavra!" The curse bounced off the mirror and hit a chandelier somewhere else. The chandelier fell to the ground and shattered into a billion microscopic pieces.
Narcissa was starting to get a little miffed. She fell to the ground in despair. Why was my aim so amazing when I accidentally killed Bella? Now when I mean to kill someone, I keep missing!Although there was no one else in the Manor, she kept her composure and held her head high, like a Malfoy. Third time's the charm, she thought to herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, aimed, and fired.
Thud.
Cissy was right – the third time was the charm.
A/N: Please review. A few words telling me what you thought of it would be greatly appreciated and would aid to my development as a writer. Thank you.