Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series.


The Broken Heirloom

~:~

1960


"Quite a handful, your household of girls," Orion remarked blandly after a series of political debates had turned sour.

Cygnus knew such comments were designed to provoke him, so he denied his cousin satisfaction with a soft chuckle.

"Not at all."

"Walburga seems to think otherwise."

"There's a house at Hogwarts for all the matters about which Walburga thinks otherwise. I'd be more concerned if my sister issued a compliment." Cygnus paused, gave his cousin a wry glance. "My daughters are pillars of gentility."

It was only partially a lie. Narcissa, as Druella constantly reminded Cygnus, was an angel. And Andromeda behaved, when she wasn't with Bellatrix. So really, there was only Bellatrix. And Cygnus rather thought he had mastered how to combat her brew of trouble.

So it was of course this moment Bellatrix chose to burst into the parlor, hair wildly escaped from the bow her mother insisted upon, cheeks flushed with giddiness. Her hands cradled something which she presented to Cygnus without a moment of hesitation, wariness, or concern that she had interrupted a conversation between two adults.

"Father," she said.

Bellatrix displayed the treasures in her hand like she had done nothing wrong.

Indeed, it was without a trace of remorse or fear of rebuke that she continued, "We were playing in the library, and I broke this."

Bellatrix poured the shards of the priceless vase into Cygnus's palm. Cygnus prodded the pieces and wondered vaguely if there was to be any hope for the heirloom. He knew his daughter tested him, subjected him to embarrassment in front of his social equal, yet Cygnus could not fathom an appropriate admonishment for Bellatrix who now beamed with the moon upon the remnants of her crime.

"It was an ugly vase to begin with."

Bellatrix plucked a jagged shape from the graveyard in Cygnus's hand and held it so the candle light could dance through it.

"Much prettier now, don't you agree?"

This was twice Bellatrix tested him, and twice Cygnus neglected to give Bellatrix the punishment he wouldn't have hesitated to give Andromeda or Narcissa had they committed the crime. Which, in all possibility, they might have; it was not beyond Cygnus's perception that Bellatrix manipulated her father's affections to save her sisters from deserved rebuke.

But the pride with which Bellatrix admired the broken crystal told Cygnus otherwise. The destruction of something precious and pointless, this was Bellatrix's work.

"Bellatrix," Orion said. His tone was much more offended than Cygnus's ever was, thus it attracted Bellatrix's attention. "Don't you understand the value such an object had to our family's history?"

Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with darkness, the warning, Cygnus knew, of an argument.

"Has," Bellatrix said simply.

"Excuse me?"

"Uncle Orion," Bellatrix sighed, "It still has value. It's being broken doesn't change that. In fact, I'd venture to argue that with more pieces, there's more value."

Orion gave a laugh, but it was not as appreciative as Cygnus would have liked.

"Cygnus, what a promising Slytherin you raise-"

"Besides," Bellatrix interrupted. "I think I'm a much better heirloom than a silly old thing used to hold flowers."

By this time, Bellatrix had crossed her arms, cocked an eyebrow, and looked every bit as formidable as Druella on her worst days.

"Oh yes, let us only imagine your potential if you were an heir."

"That's enough, I think, Orion," Cygnus warned.

Bellatrix was old enough to not only understand the implications of such remarks but to also meet them with indignation. Her face burned red with the sting of the accusation as she placed her shard of the broken vase into her father's hand.

"I suppose," Bellatrix leered at her uncle, "that I'll have to be more careful about which priceless trinket I choose to break in the future."

Bellatrix dismissed herself with the room with nothing but a toss of her dark curls and a chin jutted high into the air.

Orion lifted his eyebrows but, wisely, said nothing more on that matter of Bellatrix. He turned his attention instead to Cygnus's handful of vase.

"A quick Reparo will fix that, no?" Orion mused.

"No. Not if this damage was incurred by Bellatrix." Cygnus sifted through the pieces a final time, selected the largest shard, then slid the remaining bits into a drawer hidden from Druella's eye. "I've found, cousin, that things broken by Bellatrix remain broken."

Cygnus closed his fingers around the remnant of Bellatrix's handiwork and enjoyed his cousin's deflating arrogance.


Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has displayed an interest in this story! I hope to update sooner rather than later; reviews are appreciated.