The Hands of the Sisters
Divine as Myself
Cold November collapsed on us all and my home had become a prison. I spent my days avoiding my sister, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. I warded myself into my rooms both day and night, emerging to eat only if I was requested. I ate very little lately, anyway. Bella commented one morning in the library.
"You're looking very thin."
I gave her a withering glare. She was certainly one to talk. She looked like the walking dead. "I've little appetite."
"I could brew up something for you if you like."
"No." I remembered her last brew and looked back to my book. I was reading, but certainly not absorbing. And now that she'd wandered in, I was too nervous to function.
She stood behind the chaise I reclined on and put her palms to my shoulders, massaging. "Even our Lord is worried about you, Cissy." Her fingers brushed my hair from my ear. "He has asked me to look out for you. Do you know what he told me?"
I clenched my jaw hard. I could care less. That sick demon had watched my sister use me on Samhain – had most likely encouraged her in the first place. I was beyond disgusted with them both.
But her lips hit my temple anyway. She wrapped her arms around me from behind and whispered. "He says we witches are the future of our world. That when we go back to the old ways, we will be the rulers." She chuckled. "I like the sound of that, Cissy. Me and you – sorceress empresses of His magical land." A hand slid up my chest, up my neck and pushed my head back. She kissed me just to the left of my lips. "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
My throat hurt when I swallowed against her grip. "Yes, Bella."
She released me suddenly, almost forcefully. Her voice hardened like an obsidian blade. "Don't humor me, Narcissa. I'm not one to be placated." She sniffed. "Just start coming to dinner." She swept from the room and I was able to breathe again.
There'd been no word from Draco. I had owled him twice now and heard nothing in return. I tried not to be depressed, tried to chalk his silence up to his revising, but I knew the true source of his distraction. I worried myself to shreds and pounded the tangible emptiness in my heart when I cried in my empty bed at night. But my son's silence was soon to be revealed for more than I imagined it to be…
Bella left the manor on November 17th. I've no idea where she went, only that she woke me with her incessant knocking. I cracked my door cautiously, saw her raised brow. "Yes, Bella?"
She pushed past me into my room. "You know these wards are ridiculous, right?" I didn't reply, but crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm leaving for a bit. On a mission. With Him." Her chin jutted. She was proud.
"Congratulations," I muttered.
Her face fell. "Let's see how haughty you are without me, Cissy. We shall return tomorrow sometime."
I nodded. "Be careful."
She regarded me as one would a child who's spoken out of turn. "Just don't do anything stupid while we're away." I bristled, but made no comment. She reached for my face, grabbing me roughly when I flinched away. "Don't contact anyone." She kissed me on my lips. I struggled briefly, but resigned when I felt her wand hilt press into my abdomen.
She embraced me. Her tongue invaded my mouth. My moan of duress must have been mistaken for pleasure. Seeming hours later, she released me. "Such a divine future we'll be, Cissy."
I was nodding as she left my room. I resisted the urge to spit, settled for wiping my mouth roughly on the sleeve of my dressing gown. Sick cunt.
I left my room after that, seemingly for the first time in days. My house was quiet and empty save for me. I summoned the elf to bring breakfast to the bright sunroom. I saw that some of my plants were suffering from neglect. I ate in peace, bathed in peace, dressed in peace and wandered my grounds in peace. My well-charmed roses were blooming deep red despite the chill of looming December. Briskly, I pulled my wand and sliced a few blooms for a bouquet in the library.
The library is where I settled. The epic tome I'd started days earlier lay discarded on the chaise. I took it up and wrapped a soft shawl around my shoulders. I read until the elf popped in with post. One parchment roll. I took it listlessly, not leaving the chaise. Probably for Bella or any of the other numerous masked strangers sometime residing in my home.
But the Hogwarts seal caught my eye. I leapt from my seat, fingers tingling. My breath sharpened as I wrenched the ribbon free, casting it to the floor.
Mother. I can only guess why you still do not respond to my letters. If you are angry I shan't be home for Yule, I can only beg forgiveness. I need to hear from you, mum. To know you are safe. Even if you only tell me you hate me, let me have a word. I miss you and love you. Draco
My ears pounded. He'd written me? I'd seen nothing! No post! Nothing! "Bella!" I spat. She'd been intercepting my owls and Draco's. I knew it! I took the steps two, three at a time, raced down the hall to her room. My chest heaved. I tested her doors cautiously, but felt no wards. Glancing once behind me, I pushed into her space.
The room was dark and positively frigid. One of her windows was cracked open rather widely. It felt as though she were a corpse to be kept fresh. And it smelled…like Bella, yes. Spicy and musky. But the further I ventured inside, I put a hand over my nose and mouth. An acrid, metallic and…burning smell. "What the hell?" I murmured to myself.
Her altar was the only furniture other than her bed. Both were scattered messes, but my field of search was narrowed nicely. Her bed was Spartan – two battered pillows and a simple sheet on a down mattress. Wasn't she cold?
I ducked and peered underneath. "Fuck!" I was practically pushed away by the stench, crab-walked backward and perched on my haunches. Eyes wide with fear and disbelief, I peeked again from a safer distance.
Those were remains! Skeletal mounds with fur or feather still clinging, meat hanging and an occasional eye bulging or dried. Some of them stared back at me. "Oh, Gods. Bella." I forced myself to round the bed, checking thoroughly. I saw no parchment – only rot.
Rising, I felt disgusted. Movement in the window caught my eye. A wind chime of bones shifted and clacked in a sudden gust of wind. Drying on the windowsill were the skulls of various animals – birds of all sizes, possibly a doe and definitely a grinning, sharp-fanged badger. I shuddered and stepped away.
Lavatory next. I wanted to wash my soul, but I settled for my hands and face. I heaved for a moment over Bella's equally bare sink. The cool porcelain felt calming beneath my wet fingers, and I was concentrating on breathing when I noticed something strange.
On the wall above the sink, and on the sink itself, and on the mirror above the sink: Blood. Bloody, smeared hand and fingerprints.
I staggered away from the depravity, checked my own hands. They were clean. I lurched back into her disgusting room, nearly tripped over a pile of clothing and approached her altar. I was appalled at Bella's living conditions, but not stupid. A witch's altar is nothing to desecrate. I was both cautious and respectful in my inspection.
Bella's altar was a modified cabinet. Waist-high, it possessed a hollow center she'd covered with a black crocheted scarf. A cursory glance at the top of the altar revealed little out of the ordinary – a coal burner, cauldron, sundry herbs. There was a silver offering plate covered with a white kerchief. I dared not look underneath. No athame. I knew that Bella kept her on her person at all times – the elaborate dagger that had belonged to our great grandmother. I had felt its sting against my own skin.
Gently, I held aside the shawl and bent for a look in the cabinet. There, to the side in a neat pile – five loosely rolled parchments with broken Hogwarts seals. "You bitch!" I forgot decorum, respect and caution and snatched the missives and bolted from her nauseating den.
I needed the safety of my room. Even alone in my home, I wanted the secured clutch of my bed. I kicked out of my slippers and made a nest for myself, reading letter after letter from my son. I used my wand to reveal his hidden words. I could tell the letters had been tampered with, but Draco's words held true. Only Malfoy magic could reveal his sweetest sentiments.
My heart melted in my chest. He still missed me, still loved me. There was guilt, yes, and doubt in his words – both blatant and secret. There was anger and denial and a hint of betrayal lurking and eventually conflagrating. As his letters had gone unanswered, he'd been furious. Then concern had taken over. Apparently, he had asked Severus to check on me. Poor Severus… I smiled sadly. Poor Draco…
I had to write him now. Immediately. Let him know the truth – that our letters were being stopped or stolen by his aunt. I scrambled to my desk. First, my safe words.
Son – I understand your absence from this year's Yule. We shall hardly be as a family without your father present, anyway. And I am pleased you've chosen to focus on your studies. Know that I am with you in thought and celebration. – Your Loving Mother
I muttered the spell. The empty quill scratched my truth.
Draco – don't write further. Bella intercepts all of our correspondence. I have only now found your last letters. Oh, son! I miss you. I worry so for you. I am crushed I shan't see you at holiday – surely you know that. Don't doubt my complicated and horrifying feelings for you have not changed. I cannot breathe when I think of you – of us together. My mind and body battle violently and still I ache to touch you and hold you not as a mother should. We are truly damned, son – in so many ways. And if we survive this coming storm, I wonder if we shall survive its aftermath. Just remember – please remember – you are no murderer, my darling. You are my greatest pride. Trust Severus. And know I love you hopelessly. – Your Narcissa
I sealed and tied off my missive with white ribbon. A gesture of peace. I knew that Bella had said she would return on the morrow, but I couldn't be guaranteed that time. I rushed to the rookery and snapped at our fastest eagle owl – a handsome black creature called Aquila. "Please," I whispered to the beast. "Just to Draco. Let no other touch this letter. If you must, draw their blood. Just Draco."
I was a desperate maniac, whispering to an owl. But it seemed to understand. Its wings generated a powerful, warm wind as it left the coop purposefully. I stood amongst the other owls, doves and various birds we'd collected over the years. A few peacocks and guinea hens had followed me into the roost, hoping for a handful of scratch. I rubbed my arms worriedly, chewed at my lip. I plunged my hand into the seed bucket and cast out golden corn for the birds. Let them be happy, at least.
I returned to my room. I would replace the letters – not have Bella knowing I'd found them. I could kill her. I had never felt such fury. Of all the things she'd done to me…the insults, the hits, the punches, hexes…the ways she'd used my body so sickly… This I could not accept.
In my lavatory, I regarded my pained reflection. Why? Why would she do such a thing?
The witch who squinted back at me pursed her lips. Don't be naïve, she groused. She felt the tingle of magic all over those letters. Your son was foolish to use such a powerful spell for such a simple deception. She's jealous, and possessive of you. The witch's head cocked. The question is – what will you do?
I clapped my hands over my ears and clenched my eyes shut. I will not let her make me insane! I will not let her win this duel! This is my house! He is my son!
The witch laughed. He's your lover, you mean! Are you to be his slut, his mother and his champion?
"Damn you!" I screamed at her, slammed my open hand against the mirror. "I'm no slut! Do you think I asked for this? Any of this?"
I calmed, shaking slightly. She stared at me, gauging my sincerity. Then do something about it. Under the floor of the drawing room. You know what to seek.
I roared at her, opened the potions cabinet and slammed it shut. When I looked up again, I saw myself. Just myself. She was gone. But she was right.
I dined alone at the enormous dining table that night. But peace was far from me. I wrung my napkin in my hands and barely touched my roast chicken. I could not shake my anger at my sister, couldn't stop thinking of what lay beneath the floor of the drawing room.
The elf appeared to take my uneaten meal and replace it with pudding and a coffee. I glanced at the dessert, then shoved away from the table. My skirt swirled around my feet as I glided into the drawing room. An obnoxious Persian rug – my choice – covered the floor. I hurled it aside, letting it fall over a gilt in-laid Queen Anne coffee table. Muggles made lovely furnishings…
Under the rug was a plank of dark polished wood barely discernible as being separate from its neighbors. Lucius had hidden things here years earlier to escape the Ministry's dark objects raid. Only a few things – precious things. One of those precious things, I needed.
A wave of my wand and a whispered password pushed the panel up with a soft hiss. I tossed it aside. Amidst boxes of charmed trinkets and velvet bags of glittering jewelry, was an elongated lacquered mahogany box. I pulled it reverently from the compartment and cradled it in my lap.
Inside the box, snug in voluptuous satin, was my great aunt's athame. Bella may have inherited great gran's, but I was chosen to receive this one. My fingers peeled away a layer of red satin, traced the hilt revealed. Nearly six inches long, slender and painstakingly detailed, it was a carved piece of solid white ivory. "Gorgeous," I whispered.
I removed the ceremonial knife in its pliable leather sheath. Many would have called it a small sword rather than an athame. I slid it slowly from its leather embrace. The sharply honed elven steel blade glinted moonlight along its 14 inches. It was ornately embossed with roses in various stages of bloom. The stem and vine etching continued onto its handle – the jutting thorns and curving leaves becoming comfortable finger holds.
I thrust it before my face, turned it across my gaze until I saw my own eyes reflected in its mirroring surface. They were narrowed, determined and the same color as the steel I wielded. A pulse of…something surged along my arm and sent slivers into my heart. I bristled. This is power. I gripped the blade with my free hand. It didn't require a hard hold to let it taste my blood. The surge intensified. I smiled.
This is divinity, sister…
I slept peacefully with Aunt Laguena's athame beneath my pillow. In fact, I slept better than I had in months. And I dreamed of Draco dressed in shining armor. He was like a star in a night sky. I felt the coolness of his metal plating beneath my lips and fingers. I worshiped him and called him 'my son,' but he kissed me like I was the possession. I yielded like a maiden shepherd caught dozing, and he fucked me soundly beneath a protective and secreting willow.
I woke guiltless and whispering his name. Dawn was soft and gentling. Again I bathed without wards and even hummed a tuneless tune. I dressed in a thick, comfortable cotton frock and took tea in the solarium. A light snow flurry obscured the day, but I made out white globules of peacocks meandering about the grounds.
I did not join them. Instead, I attended my own altar. With a carefully gathered array of herbs and rather eclectic ingredients, I set about brewing in my small cauldron. I was done well before Bella returned that afternoon, breathless and excited from her travels.
I listened to her tell me animatedly of her adventure with the Dark Lord. "There were seven of us in all," she explained, removing her boots. She flopped onto the library chaise at my folded feet. "We each picked a Ministry worker and kidnapped them. I got some buggering old bastard from Department of bloody Muggle Affairs or some rot." She laughed riotously and I smiled indulgence. "My Lord said he thought I would enjoy that!" She shrugged. "He was right. I did." A sigh. "Anyway. All we really did was shake them up a bit – let them know where the real power lies and get some information. Well…"
She looked down at her stockinged feet. A toe protruded from a tear. It wiggled. "I got carried away. As usual. You know me, Cissy."
Indeed I do. "Yes, Bella. I know you."
She smiled almost shyly, for all the world like a Hogwarts third year. "Oh, He wasn't angry at me for killing the git! I mean, I did get the questions answered!" She made a loose gesture with her hands, one of which twirled her wand still. "But He did tell me to be more careful next time. And I think he's got plans for filling that Ministry worker's position, anyway."
She looked at me sideways. "You do realize the Ministry is about to fall, Cissy? That His plan is working?"
I nodded. "I see now," I assured her.
She grinned and propped her chin on my bent knees. "I'm glad, Cissy. We were worried you might…muck things up. Still worried about Draco?"
I shook my head, tried to appear as peaceful as my flagellating heart would allow. "Not really, no." I lied.
But she seemed convinced. She kissed my knee. "Good. The cabinet is nearly repaired now. Any day, Cissy. Any day!" She squeezed my legs excitedly.
"Shall we celebrate with a nice dinner tonight?" I asked her. "Tonight? Just us?" I smiled at her wide-eyed surprise. "Unless, of course, His Lordship wishes to join his future sorceress empresses?"
She was shaking her head slowly, as if trying to convince herself I was sincere. "No… He rests tonight. Exhausted by our journey. But…" She brushed a finger down the side of my face. "I would love to join you for dinner, Cissy. I'll be happy to see you. Just us!"
I turned my head to place a kiss on the finger lingering near my lips. Bella gasped. "Lovely," I whispered. I returned demurely to my book. Bella practically floated from the room to bathe, glancing back a few times to be assured I was no apparition.
We ate the season's first fresh venison that evening. For all I knew, Bella had killed it and was currently bleaching its skull in her window. Not that it mattered where it came from. It was truly delicious. I poured the wine rather freely, especially for Bella. She didn't notice.
I noticed that she'd 'dressed up' for dinner. She wore a shoulderless, velvet frock in the only color she owned – black. And her hair was nearly tamed, or at least brushed. It was a soft, thick cloud about her head and neck. Her fingernails were smooth and clean, and she wore a bit of dark gloss on her lips.
I poured her fourth glass of wine. "You look splendid tonight, sister."
She giggled. It was a disturbing sound emerging from her throat. "You too, Cissy." Her fingers stretched across the table to stroke mine. "It's been nice having time with you tonight." I stroked back. She licked her lips. "We could spend some more time together tonight, you know." Her eyelids were heavy and her pupils dilated. My potion was working perfectly.
I surprised her yet again. "I think I would like that, Bella." I rose seductively from the table, revealing the thigh high slit in my green satin dress. I saw her eyes track my bare skin as I rounded the table. "Shall we?" I cocked my head toward the stairs and she stumbled a bit as she pushed back her chair. If she'd had strings, I could have controlled her like a marionette.
I led her to my room, peeling off my arm-length gloves. A quick spell and the floo fired to life, bathed the room in orange flicker. "Lie down," I said. "And give me a moment." She was scrambling onto my bed as I entered the lavatory. I saw her shove her wand underneath a pillow.
I was remarkably calm as I pulled the athame from its sheath along my opposite thigh. It had warmed there all night, holstered beside my wand. I held both tools and checked my reflection. I was unsurprised to see the witch there. She looked devastating; blue eyes flashing hotly against her pale skin, emerald green setting off her loose white blonde layers.
Ready? She asked, cocking an eyebrow.
I smiled at her. "Ready," I whispered.
In my bed, Bella's chest rose and fell deeply, steadily. Perfect. I waved my wand. A hiss from beneath my bed. I stepped from my heels, but the material still crackled when I walked on it. But Bella didn't stir at the sound. Nor did she stir when I extracted her wand from beneath her head. I set it atop my altar and crawled onto the bed, up the burgundy duvet I'd chosen specially, and over my sister's unconscious form.
I paused looking down on her. Her eyes fluttered infinitesimally behind her dark lids. One hand fell listlessly at one shoulder. I felt the other fold limp against my calf. Her throat was beautiful – vulnerable in the reddening firelight. It would be even prettier opened up – wide like a grinning sinner and belching blood like the bloated bulimic she was. Yes.
Left hand clutching my wand, my right raised the silver blade…and Bella's eyes snapped open.
Quick! I brought the blade down and across – she caught my wrist. "No!" I whined. She was damned strong. Her fingers bruised. The blade barely touched above her larynx, but still a sparse sliver of blood beaded on her skin.
She was incredibly calm for a witch with a knife at her throat and a wand at her head, but her hand still shook where she held me. "Found your letters, I presume?"
I nodded, tears heating in my throat.
Bella moaned a tiny moan, bit her bottom lip. "Cissy. You look so beautiful with vengeance in your eyes." Her brows quirked. "This could get fun." Her free hand slid casually beneath her pillow.
Then, she froze. I saw a trickle of something akin to fear for the first time in her eyes. "Where's my wand, Cissy?"
I swallowed. "Guess." My knife hand pressed further.
She pressed back harder, gritted her teeth. "Kill me and you'd best be prepared to kill my Master, too," she ground out. "Stupid witch!" Her voice was a hiss. "How would you explain it? My murder in your bed? He would kill you at once! And then who would…comfort…your sweet boy? Hm?"
I blinked. My grip on the athame's hilt loosened. I hadn't thought…
"Yes, I suspect between wet-hen pissery and whatever's leaking out of that blade into your brain, you haven't had a very clear head today." She pushed a final push at my knife hand. "Let it go, Cissy. Just…drop it. For a moment. If you still want to kill me, fine. But try to do it without a belly full of Black magic. Eh?"
Black magic… A fog was clearing. I let go of the ivory hilt. Bella held my hand over the edge of the bed, and the blade fell to the floor. She heard its peculiar thunk and peered over at it. "What the hell is that carpet, Cissy?"
She pushed me to a sitting position atop her. "Muggles call it plastic," I murmured absently.
"Goddess bless." Bella stared at me. "I'm surprised you didn't just gut me over dessert. Fucking hell, witch!" She gestured to the discarded athame. "Was that Aunt Laguena's?"
I nodded.
She chuffed. "Good thing I worked on immunities to belladonna and flux." She was twisting my face to and fro, studying me. "You were always a devious little potioneer, though. How do you feel?"
I blinked. There was an echo resounding in my head. "Strange…"
"I bet." She plucked my wand and planted me on my back. I snapped to defense, but she quieted me. "Not tonight, little sister." She put my wand into my hand. "There's a bit too much darkness in this bed even for me right now." She swayed as she stood. "And I've got to sleep off your brewing skills, I'm afraid."
On my elbows, I watched her retrieve her wand from my altar. "Put that fucking blade away tomorrow. You can't handle it." She stopped at the foot of my bed and looked at me. "Really, Cissy? Over a few letters from your incestuous son?"
"I hate you," I spat. "I hate Him!"
Bella chuckled. "Accept that I'm the strong one, Cissy, and you're the weak one. It's always been that way."
"You're wrong."
She shook her head. "No. And you'll miss me when I'm gone. Who will fight your battles for you, then? Hm?"
I rose up to shout, but a wave of dizziness pulled me under. I heard Bella slam my door behind her when she left. The dark madness inhabiting me bled from my re-opened palm onto the bedding. I wiped the blood absently.
So a division formed. I could not fill the chasm. I would be fighting my battles from now on…
AN: Thanks to my dragon for her Bella insight, to my loyal readers and reviewers including the lovely Lady Black, Greyella and Cherepaha, and to Lacuna Coil, Alkaline Trio, Joan Jett, Nightwish, The Psychedelic Furs and Black Sabbath.
