The Hands of the Sisters
Beautiful as the Sky
The heavy hangings over the drawing room windows were cast open. Sunlight flooded in. I glanced toward the windows, saw the blue sky in the distance. It was such a clear day.
Bella had fired to her feet when I stepped from the floo. Now she stood before me with her wide eyes just staring. "Cissy?" It took my step forward to spur her step forward. "Oh, oh, oh," she chanted, took me in her arms.
Numb, exhausted, I let her coddle me. "My poor flower," she cooed. She stroked my hair. This is the woman who raped me. Tears came, anyway.
"Oh, Bella." She was there. I wrapped my arms around her realness, took in the slightly smoky smell of her hair, the sun-warmed skin of her bare shoulders.
"Hush, sweetness." She rubbed my back firmly. The stiff cups of her corset pressed into my sensitive chest. "My poor pet." Her wand hilt, tucked into her skirt, jabbed my rib. "You look as if you've not slept a wink. Come. Let's get you resting."
She ushered me from the room gently. Down the hall, I heard raucous voices and looked curiously toward them. "The Dark Lord," Bella whispered. "Rodolphus and some others."
"Rodolphus?" I didn't know Bella's husband was freed from Azkaban.
"Mm." She shrugged as if she could give a whit for her husband's presence.
"Is he well?" I asked on the stairs.
"I assume so." She tugged me down the hall to my room. "I haven't seen him properly yet." She closed my doors and turned down my bedding. I stood like a mannequin watching her. "Draco off safely?"
"Yes."
She nodded. She was unbuttoning my jacket. "Bella!" I slapped her hands away.
"Sorry! Sorry." Her hands were raised in surrender and she backed off.
I removed my own jacket, hung it over the door of my wardrobe. "Thank you," I told her. "Will you wake me for dinner, please?" I ached for aloneness.
Her hands fluttered a moment. "Of course, Cissy." I nodded. "I'm worried for you…"
I waved her off. "No need. I'm fine."
"Well, then…" She paused in my open door. "I suppose I'll leave you."
I walked into my lavatory. Moments later, I heard the door close and knew she was finally gone. I stripped myself and slipped into a silk chemise. It was warm in my room. In the mirror, I took in my bloodshot eyes. No wonder she'd worried. I was a noticeable mess. I would simply have to do better than this. If the sharks got even a hint of blood in the water…
I climbed heavily into my bed. It smelled like my son – like sex – and I couldn't stop from inhaling deeply. Tears stung again. I clutched his pillow and curled around it like some desperate thing. Oh, Draco. I wept until the pillow was disgusting and pushed it from me. Why did it feel like I was slipping away?
Apparently, I'd slipped into sleep. I woke sometime to late afternoon sun, and the oddest feeling… Bella lay beside me, and her fingers were at my bare back, tugging gently at just the ends of my long hair. It created the strangest soothing sensation on my scalp. I couldn't contain a little sound of appreciation.
She smiled. "Feel good?" I nodded. "I did this in Azkaban. To myself. Sometimes it helped me sleep."
I smiled back at her. Must have been the exhaustion making me weak. "I suppose that's why all your ends are split now." I reached toward a curl of her own hair laying between us. Bella flinched. "Sorry," I whispered.
Bella's fingers wrapped around mine. "Cissy." She looked so lost, so wretched.
"What?" Her fingertips sported old, thick calluses that were softening now.
"Please. Please, forgive me."
I rolled away from her, folded my pillow around my head. "Bella!" I didn't want to hear this, discuss this. I didn't want to bloody think at the moment.
But she scrambled to her knees and grappled for my hands. "Please, Cissy! Please just listen to me! Please." She straddled my leg.
My fingers itched to touch my wand on the side table. "Bella." I growled warningly.
But she stopped my mouth with her hand. "Nonono," she babbled. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just bloody listen!"
When she removed her hand, I settled. My breaths were uneven and I lay my hands across my chest protectively. "I'm listening," I said.
"I was wrong to hurt you," Bella hissed. "But I want you to know why. Why I can't seem to not want you, to not want to be near you, Cissy!" She pulled one of my hands to her lips, kissed the palm. "Please? May I tell you?" She murmured into my palm as if I could cup her words and drink them.
I nudged her with my leg. "Very well," I said. "Tell me."
She slid from my thigh, sat so our hips touched. I, too sat up, hugged my knees to my chest. The midday sun put a hint of red glow in Bella's mane. "I remember when you were born, you know?" She settled lotus style and hugged my left knee to her chin. Something against her arm prodded me and she reached absently to remove the elaborate dagger hidden in her sleeve. I watched it cautiously. "Father made Andy and I sit on that receiving bench in the foyer downstairs. Remember it?" I nodded. Should I tell her it was in the east wing of the manor? She was scraping – ever so gently – her dagger up the inside of her elbow and back down to her near-translucent wrist. The sound and motion were hypnotic. "Well. Andy admitted she was jealous of you immediately. She said 'mother will never care for us again, Bella.' I told her she was ridiculous. I couldn't wait to see you!"
She kissed my knee. It was bare, and I was suddenly aware that beneath the rather short chemise, I bore no knickers. "Anyway," she went on. "Father finally came downstairs with this tiny bundle in his arms. And I ran up so fast, he pulled you away!" She grabbed my knee excitedly. The chill of the dagger made me catch my breath. "I guess he thought I was going to snatch you and run. But…when he let me look inside the blanket…Oh, Cissy." The sharp, thin blade was scratching up my leg – hissing against the two days' stubble there.
"Bella," I whispered. The blade, the look in her eyes that said she was gone somewhere…
"I'll never forget," she said. "I looked at you and said 'Father, that's not a baby! It's Andy's dolly!' Because you were so perfect, Cissy!" The dagger pressed into my thigh, just above the bend of my knee. "You were so quiet and peaceful and you looked like you were made of the finest porcelain. And your eyes were soooo blue."
"Bella." I spoke louder, felt a trickle of heat spring under the blade. She'd cut me.
"But, see, Cissy? You still never changed. You were mine! Andy had her dolls, her friends, her little mudblood entourage. I had you! Don't you remember? I cared for you. I protected you. When father was angry, when mother was depressed, when Andy was jealous and mean, I protected you!"
"Bella!" I had to shout. She glanced at me, seeming to come back. I put my hand on her wrist, tugging the blade away from my skin. "Bella." She looked at my hand on her arm, saw the blood on her blade, sluicing slowly down the silver in the sunlight.
"Fuck," she muttered. Thoughtlessly, naturally, she drew the blade to her mouth and licked. I looked away. Her hand rubbed over the tiny cut she'd made. "Didn't mean to."
I shook my head dismissively. Goddess bless, she scared the shite out of me… "Bella. When we were children, when you hurt Andy, when you shouted at father… It frightened me."
"You just didn't understand, then!" She tugged my arm, pulled me a little closer to her. The blade pointed up between us. I gasped. "And when it came time for you to marry…I tried to warn you about Lucius – about his family. I knew about them."
This again. I groaned. "Bella! Lucius never mistreated me! You terrified me then, too! You tried so hard to convince me he would…beat me, crucio me, imperius me, rape me on my wedding night! For Merlin's sake, Bella, I loved Lucius once!"
Her eyes widened. So did mine. Had I truly said that? The knife lowered a little. "Once, Cissy?" Hell, I had said it. "What changed your mind? The fact he's offered up your boy to the Dark Lord like a Welsh rarebit? Have you seen I was right? About his darkness?"
"Darkness?" I pointed to my vanity. "Look in the mirror, sister! Darkness runs in this family! Our family! We could not have been more aptly named. Black," I spat. "It was you, Bella. You were the one who frightened me, who hurt me. You are the one who raped me, Bella –"
"NO!" She cried, clapping her hands over her ears. "I never meant to hurt you!" Her hand slid to her face, muffling her voice, but the hand on her dagger hilt tightened to a white knuckle grip. "You wouldn't let me show you! You dueled me, for fuck's sake! I couldn't stop!" She rose to her knees beside me, lunged across me so quickly I cowered. The knife was perilously close to my face. "Oh, stop," she seethed. "Don't act like some simpering fragile marionette. I know the kind of witch you are. You could have bested me the other day if you'd not been so angry. When you have your head you're as deadly as I."
She took my wand from the bedside table and I tensed. But she only held it hilt toward me. I took it gratefully if uncertainly. "Why were you so angry then, Cissy?" She asked. The glimmering dagger was framed by her wide, searching eyes. "Surely, it wasn't just the fact I was…touching your little dragon?" Suddenly, like a striking snake, she stroked her hand up the inside of my thigh. "When I touched you a few weeks ago, you didn't mind."
I tried to pull away from her fingers. "I was in no right state to protest, Bella. And how dare you – "
"And how dare I?" She overrode me viperously. "Aw…how dare I make little Cissy come so hard?"
"Get out, Bella." I pointed to my door.
"Do you deny how good I made you feel?"
"Get out, Bella!" I shouted again.
"No!" She shouted over me. "I'm staying right here and we're talking! I've wanted to know for some time what's kept my sister squirreled away here in her bedroom with her son for so long. What's brought her back from a night away from home all tuckered out and wearing no knickers."
"Bella!"
"Keep saying my name, Cissy, and I might get the wrong impression." Even kneeling she was inches taller than me. She bent over my head til her nose brushed my bangs. "I want to ask you a question," she said. "I don't want to use legilimency or potions. I want you to be honest with me. Will you?"
I swallowed. My palm sweat on my wand hilt. Light glinted off her dagger. "Yes."
"Are you fucking your son?"
Oh, gods. My gut clenched."No." I couldn't inject the horror into my voice that was called for. I hoped she would chalk my calm up to simple delivery of truth.
"Huh." She tipped my chin up so I faced her squarely. Her dark eyes read my face feature by feature, but she didn't attempt to delve into my mind. "I hope you understand why I ask, Cissy. We don't need any complications right now. The boy needs to keep his head. Wanking to thoughts of mum won't –"
"Shut up," I hissed. "Don't be disgusting."
She settled onto her haunches. "Right, then. The Dark Lord was just concerned that –"
"The Dark Lord?" I turned toward her. "The Dark Lord has no damned business knowing anything about me! I'm not one of his boot-licking lackeys! I've no Dark Mark to bind me to him. He has my husband, my son, my sister… Whom I fuck is of no concern to him."
"You just said it, Cissy! He has your son! Therefore, if you're fucking your son…it concerns the Dark Lord." Her tone was light, tripping and matter of fact. She stroked my jaw. "But I believe you, you know. And he trusts me." Her lips neared my ear. "I'll tell him, and he'll let it go. Simple as that." The gentle stroke became a pinch as she jerked my face to hers. "But don't make the mistake of underestimating his intuition, Cissy. And don't lie to him. Ever." Her lips fell on mine very lightly. I felt the dagger's chill pressing into my bare back where she held me. "The consequences would be dire, indeed."
When she pulled away, I was trembling. "Now. Get dressed. I thought we'd have a picnic."
A picnic? She was insane. Truly insane. She left the room and I sat frozen in the middle of my bed. If she found out, she would tell the Dark Lord. And they would know I'd lied. I put my face in my hands. Oh, Draco. What would that mean for you?
After a few deep breaths, I straightened. It simply couldn't happen, then. I rose and walked to my vanity's mirror. The dark circles beneath my eyes had to go. I also worked a glamour charm for my pale cheeks. It would last until night fell, and that was enough. I leaned closer to the mirror, took in my eyes. They were the same as my son's, and for just a second, I felt his gaze on me.
I gathered my wits and dressed in a gauzy white, sleeveless frock. It was picnic weather, after all.
There were many picnics until October's chill set in earnestly. Bella was always with me. We luncheoned on the grass at noon and at night, dined at the formal table. Sometimes, there were others. Death Eaters gathered around me like devils. And at the head of the table their Dark Lord.
It took my every ounce of control to not flee his very presence. His lacking lips meant much of his meal would dribble or spittle from the slit that was his mouth. He was cleanly to a fault, though, and constantly wiped at the mess. He slurped his soup and his wine, creating a sickening echo in the dining room.
Thankfully, I was generally ignored. But when he did address me, he called me 'mother,' making me in turns disgusted and disturbed. Bella always spoke for me, or apologized for my reticence. He could have cared less, but I was glad just the same that Bella was there. She fawned upon him like a frenzied concubine, seeming not to notice at all when her husband was present beside her.
I looked at Rodolphus as another shadow falling in Bella's wake. Azkaban had truly hollowed him. Sometimes seeing him felt like seeing a mirror. I wondered if the emptiness on his features matched the one in my belly and heart.
At night, I warded my rooms strongly. Bella would often knock and wish me goodnight. I could feel her just outside the doors, waiting for… I didn't know. I slept clutching a pillow like a shield against the lonely dark. I tried not to think of my son; tried not to worry for him, to imagine his own loneliness and strife; tried not to remember his touch, his kisses, his cock filling me up. More often than not I failed and stupidly wept myself to sleep.
Four days before Samhain, I received a letter from Draco. It was thick and promising. I tucked it into my skirt pocket and retreated to my room under Bella's watchful eye to read it. It was four pages of drivel, really; quidditch news, gossip among the Slytherin families, his grades. All seemed well. There was nothing in his words of his mind, his health, his heart – if he fared positively or if he missed me as I missed him.
But between the elegant slant of his composition was the crackle of magic. It was old magic and simple. I smiled and waved my wand. "Praesto." The written word faded, and glowing silver rose to the surface of the parchment. Biting my lip, I read.
Do you miss me as I do you, I wonder. Or am I simply gone now. Out of sight and out of mind as it should be between any boy and his mother? I regret what has passed between us – not for any other reason than I must now live without. Weeks spent pressed against or slipping inside you are now weeks spent in a cold dorm bed listening to the farts and snores of my intolerable classmates. Do you suppose we shall ever smile at one another? That there will ever be smiles again at all? Does Bella bully you? Are you alone, mother? Are you mistreated? I cannot write as I wish. I am followed always and watched by either Snape or Potter. I cannot decide which is the more irritating. Snape is out for my glory, perhaps, but Potter is out for my blood. Write to me, Narcissa. Tell me you are well. I ache to touch you, to – I'll stop. It isn't fair to either of us. You know the spell. I run the risk of having my post intercepted, as do you, I imagine. But only Malfoy magic will reveal my words, so don't fear. Gods, I miss your magic, and I hope you don't fear. I miss you. I love you. Draco
Almost as soon as I read the words, they retreated again into the parchment. I scrambled to my desk like an excited girl and produced a quill. I too, wrote drivel; my pleasure at his grades, hopes for Slytherin's success in quidditch, my orchids, how I looked forward to his holidays. Then, "Delito." The empty quill-tip scratched the invisible truth.
Foolish boy, of course I miss you just as you do me. Yes, we've made a terrible mistake, I fear. I barely sleep now alone and I feel such need. I hate the weakness. Draco, I worry so. Be wary of Potter. But please, don't hesitate to trust Severus for I do. Don't worry for me! I am well. And hardly alone. Bella has her moments, but above all is protective of me. The Dark Lord eats at my dining table and calls me 'mother,' son. I am beyond disgust. But mostly I miss you. I repeat myself. I miss your magic, too. Oh, Dragon, don't forget who you are! Look in the mirror and see what you are to me – they will be my eyes you see there looking back at you. You have my pride no matter what happens. You know this. The only fear I feel here is that I will never see my son again. Take care of yourself, Draco. Tell me you will come home for Yule. I shall die if I don't see you soon. Goddess knows I love you impossibly. Yours – Narcissa
I rolled the parchment briskly and looked out the window at the bright cool sky. Did I just write a love letter to my son? Did I receive a love letter from my son? I left his missive on the desk, opened. It was less risky than attempting to hide it, and he was right. Only I could activate the magic to reveal his words.
A tangle of emotions consumed me. I was overjoyed by his words, but terrified by his position. I knew he distrusted Severus, but Potter was a definite threat, even if I hated to admit it. The son of a muggleborn was Dumbledore's golden boy, while Draco's father was imprisoned as a Death Eater. I'd no doubt that there would be no equitable opinions directed toward my son. I sighed and wandered to the rookery for an owl.
Approaching the rookery, I heard an odd sound in the distance – a very faint shucking noise. After securing my letter to an owl, I went to investigate, wand drawn cautiously. At the northern edge of the Malfoy property – a fair distance from the Manor – I saw my sister.
She was breast deep in the golden thrush that grew there. She wielded a scythe in one hand and her wand in the other.
"Bella?"
She whirled toward me, startled. The flashing of her eyes startled me. "Oh. Cissy." She lowered her wand.
I tried a smile. "What are you doing?"
She wiped a torn sleeve across her sweaty brow. "Broom thrush." She gestured to two neat bundles nearby. "I thought we'd make besoms, Cissy. For Samhain. Like witches ought."
Another attempt at normalcy, even if from an unlikely source. "It's been a long time since I've wrapped a broom," I said.
"All the more reason," Bella intoned. "You'll join me, then?"
I nodded. She resumed cutting. "Can I help?"
She seemed so distracted, like she was in another place in her mind. "Get some twine," she answered. "And find us some nice limbs for handles."
"Right." I left my sister scything, looking over my shoulder just once as if to be certain she was real.
So Samhain Eve found me with Bella again. After dinner, we'd covered the dining table with the sweet-smelling golden thrush she'd harvested. Propped in two chairs were six stout limbs I'd cut from Malfoy ash, cedar and holly trees. We'd carved pumpkins earlier with triptychs and pentagrams, and now sipped spicy hot ciders while we unwound twine.
Bella was quiet, rather nostalgic. I found myself trying subtly to pull her out. I was perhaps more frightened of a quiet Bella than a raving one. She perked up a bit when she began her first broom – a holly handled piece about the length of my arm. "Walburga taught us this," she said. "Remember?"
I tightened twine around my first layer of thrush on the ash limb I'd chosen. "Vaguely."
"Ancient old bat," Bella muttered. "Mother hated her."
"Mother hated everyone." I didn't contain my chuckle.
"Mother was a real witch," Bella replied, grinning. Her tongue swiped at her teeth.
"Or a bitch," I volunteered.
Bella froze, staring at me. "Why I believe my little Cissy just made a disparaging comment about our mother!"
"I did." I added more thrush and began winding again. Bella was still watching me.
"You look very pretty tonight," she said.
I swallowed, suddenly aware that the silk frock I'd chosen amplified my cleavage when I leaned forward. I settled back in my chair self-consciously. "Thank you."
"But you both are lovely, are you not?"
The grotesque voice emanated from the dining room's archway. I didn't look up. Bella's sudden fascination was enough to tell me her master loomed there. I shuddered, glad my back was to him.
"My Lord!" Bella made to rise, but he must have stilled her.
"Do not interrupt your work, Bellatrix!" If he had a jovial tone, I was hearing it. "It…inspires me to see true witches of the purest blood exercising such an ancient rite on such an ancient night." I heard his robes suss toward us, and perhaps the snake, too. "What other rituals have you…beautiful sorceresses planned for this auspicious occasion?"
Bella practically melted in supplication and worship. "My lord, I prepare to bloodlet for you at my altar this evening. To seal your strength and success."
His hiss must have been one of appreciation. "You honor me too much, Bellatrix." Then cadaverous fingers fell onto my shoulder, curved onto my bare skin. My body erupted in gooseflesh. "And you, Narcissa? Mother lamia?"
I swallowed a thimble of bile that had risen up. I never shared my altar practices – not even with my family. My rites there were sacred and private. But I would make an exception for this beast. "Tonight my craft is for my son, your lordship." I would not call him 'my lord,' not ever. "I work to protect him and strengthen him."
Bella's eyes rested on my shoulder, no doubt on her master's tender touch. "Noble," he muttered. The fingers tightened just slightly. "And appreciated." He finally withdrew. "Your intent strengthens Draco's industry for our cause. I have…hopes for his success."
My fingers snapped my twine. I gasped and looked into my lap, grappling at my broom before it crumbled away. When I looked up, I saw him leaning over my sister. Her face tilted up toward his as the moon would to the sun, gathering its light for reflection. He whispered something, and Bella nodded.
He departed saying, "Merry meet, witches."
Bella seemed to have a renewed vivacity after his visit. "What did he say to you?" I asked quietly.
She smiled and tied off her broom, inspecting it. "Oh. He said he hoped our magic found strength tonight."
My lips tightened. "I see." I tied my broom with more difficulty given my broken twine. But I was happy with its fullness and weight. I lay it on the table by Bella's and rose to retrieve more thrush. Bella followed.
The golden straw was piled between the table and the floo, not close enough to be a fire hazard, but close enough that the flames in the great fireplace illuminated our gathering trips. Bella knelt behind me, and my breath caught.
"Cissy?" Her breath was right against my ear. Her fingers fell on my shoulders, the tips stroking my bare skin as her master's had.
"Yes?" I tried not to tremble.
"If your husband was with you tonight," she said softly, "would you share your magic with him? Let him strengthen it in the old ways?"
I shut my eyes tightly and did not think of my son. "Perhaps." My voice broke. Her hands gripped a little harder and her lips touched my neck. "Oh, Bella…" Please don't. "What about you?" I asked desperately. "Rodolphus must –"
She was tugging the wide v-neck of my dress off my shoulders, kissing all the way. "Azkaban has rendered my husband quite useless to me, Cissy." She was undoing the laces at my back. "I do hope it doesn't do the same to yours." Her hands slid over my shoulders and boldly cupped my breasts.
Goddess damn me. A witch's body is a traitorous thing. And the moon, the earth, the energy of Samhain… The cocktail rendered me weak. As weak as I'd been the night she'd drugged me. I surrendered, turned my head and kissed my sister.
Her lips opened mine. Her tongue tasted mine. I dropped my thrush and was suddenly laid upon it, my torso now bare. The straw smelled sweet. The fire backlit Bella's body as she knelt between my legs, stripped off her corset. The disciplining whale bone left red streaks on her ribcage. I traced one and her full breasts heaved.
She took hold of my hand and kissed each finger. "I told you I would be here for you, Cissy." She put my wet fingertips to her nipple and I squeezed obediently. "Oh! And I will be here for you. As no man or boy can be."
Her eyes, black with lust, locked onto mine and I knew with certainty that she knew. She knew about Draco and me – somehow – and she knew just as certainly how to buy my capitulation, what I would give to keep her quiet, to keep my secret. Tears stung my eyes when she brushed her breasts over mine. The straw crinkled beneath my back when she tugged my frock down my hips and legs. She kissed her way back up, then flopped into the mess beside me, yanking off her own skirt.
I rose instinctively and lay over her, stroking her face and lipping her jaw. "Bella," I murmured. She was grinning up at me. She had me. Her dark laughter turned her caresses into manipulations.
We tumbled til the hay was in our hair and enveloping us. She wrung humiliating pleasure from me; her mouth was sin incarnate on my core, her fingers teasing, but never delivering. For the second time, I tasted my own essence on her mouth. She pulled my fingers from her messy curls to her sodden cunt. "Together now, sister," she whispered. "For the magic."
I moaned as her fingers pumped inside me, following her lead and pumping mine inside her. Bella enunciated her enjoyment clearly. "Gods, yes, Cissy." She was fucking my fingers, her palm falling perfectly upon my clit. I bit my lips. "You're so close," she panted in my face. "Give in, sweet witch. Let it come. Let the goddess have your gushing."
My thighs fell open further, shallowing her thrusts. Nonono! "Yesyesyes, Bella!" I could not have stopped the inevitable. I saw the victory on her face as surely as she saw the defeat on mine. I surged against her, and felt her clench on my hand. She flung her head back like a beast and alchemy burst between us.
So our rite was complete. Over her shoulder I saw the moon Cheshire grinning at me in the clear, starry sky. Bella fell flush on my body, raised our hands above our heads. She was heavy, and my thighs shook from strain. "See how good we are, Cissy? We're purified within each other." She bloody licked a tear track from my right temple.
Lazily, she pushed away from me, rolled and stood up. Straw fell from her hair and sweaty skin. She stretched brazenly while I scrambled to recover my frock. Somehow it had ended up behind me, and turning to retrieve it, I caught a glimpse of something pale shifting in the shadows of the archway.
I gasped and gathered my dress to my chest. It was he - her lord and master. I flushed hot and bright. He'd watched us! I looked up at Bella, re-dressing herself carelessly, humming a tuneless tune. Somehow, I felt she knew…
I could hardly decide which of us was more sickening.
AN: Dear dragon - thanks for the loan of your dagger. This chapter would not have been here without it. I hope I returned it in good condition? Thanks also to Nine Inch Nails, Portishead, Incubus and Shivaree for the soundtrack. And Florence's lovely 'Remain Nameless'...priceless here.
