XXII.
"When can we visit Father?"
Narcissa's stomach tightened in her gut but she gently smiled at her son, pushing more fruit onto his plate. Draco scowled at what he was being served.
"Mother, I don't want melon—"
"You can't just eat all carbs," Narcissa reminded him in a tone that indicated she was not to be argued with. Her gaze shifted to her sister's plate then, who had loaded up on toast and hash browns. "Neither can you," she told Bellatrix, giving her plate the same treatment as her son's.
Bellatrix's expression matched her nephew's. "I don't want that shit either."
"Tough, you're both eating it."
Bellatrix gave her a sarcastic look, stared her dead in the eye, and flicked a piece of melon off her plate. It flew off past the table and onto the floor, and Draco started laughing. Narcissa exhaled a long breath, counting backwards from ten. She supposed her son being amused by Bellatrix was better than him being uncomfortable that he had to share the same living space as her, but she also didn't want Bellatrix's wretched influence to rub off on Draco.
"Do you think you're funny? Because you're not," Narcissa reprimanded her, hating when Bellatrix got in one of these moods. It was always in the bloody morning and that was always when Narcissa had the least amount of patience. "You're acting like a child and it's embarrassing. Have you taken your potion yet?"
Bellatrix smirked, jerking a finger toward Draco. "Your spawn seems think I'm funny."
"Stop calling him that, he has a name— and answer my question."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, propping her foot up on Narcissa's nice dining room chair. "I'll get there. Can't I eat first? Jesus."
"No, you may not. You're irritating me; go take it and then you can finish your breakfast. Now, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix exhaled a frustrated sigh, slamming her foot back down on the ground before she got up in a huff, the chair scraping against the floor before she dramatically stomped into the kitchen. Narcissa tried not to care about the destruction Bellatrix left behind (honestly, the scratches on her beautiful hardwood floor—oh my god) because in the end, the most important thing was that her sister listened to her. It was the only thing that made Narcissa feel like she had some semblance of control in her otherwise uncontrollable life.
"Why does she need to take potions?" Draco asked softly, not wishing to be overhead by the woman in the other room.
"For the same reason I do," Narcissa told her son patiently, as Draco had known she was medicated for a long time. Narcissa had never hidden her diagnosis from her son, as she did not want him to think it was something shameful. "Although we do not have the same disorder, she also struggles with mental health issues. Her rampant immaturity, however, is unfortunately something she never grew out of, and her impulse control has never been great. Don't concern yourself with her, my darling— I have her under control."
"Yeah, it's weird," Draco muttered as he stabbed a piece of melon with his fork and then looked at it disdainfully before pushing it off his utensil again, deciding he wasn't going to eat his fruit either as he speared a hash brown instead. And, well, at least he hadn't flicked it onto the floor. "You act like her Mum too."
If there was one sentence Narcissa could hear that could somehow make her relationship with Bellatrix feel more unnatural, it was that one. The last bloody thing she wanted to be was the woman's mother. It made her feel gross.
"I'm not her mother, Draco; I am her sister. I am her… caretaker," Narcissa struggled for a moment, trying to find a suitable term. Even that sounded ridiculous though, as it wasn't as though Bellatrix was unable to care for herself. She could take care of her basic needs, after all; she was just… rather uncontrollable unless someone was holding the leash around her neck, and Narcissa had to be that person. Who else would, if not her? No one else bloody cared. "There is a difference."
"Whatever," Draco mumbled, apparently still finding their relationship to be strange. Thankfully, he didn't know the half of it. He looked up at his mother again though, repeating his earlier question. "When can we see Father?"
Narcissa exhaled a small sigh, her expression apologetic as she looked at her son from across the table. She had not been looking forward to telling him this, as it had shredded her to find out herself, despite understanding why exactly things had changed. "Azkaban is… currently not accepting visitors. I read it in the paper yesterday morning."
Draco slammed his fork down on his plate. "What? That's bullshit, Mum!"
"Darling, language— and watch the good china; your aunt has already ruined most of it," Narcissa scolded automatically before she realized that she was substituting her emotions with her desire to feel in control again. She exhaled a small sigh. "From what I understand, Azkaban has had too many breakouts now and with the dementors gone, it seems the Ministry does not wish to take any chances. I'm sorry, I know you're upset. I'm upset too."
"Yeah, right," Draco responded scathingly. "You and father don't even love each other, and you're always with—"
"Draco!"
Narcissa knew how much Draco loved his father, and she understood his desire to lash out, but he needed to be careful. He knew what was at risk should Bellatrix find out about her relationship with Cassandra. Draco fell furiously silent, stabbing at the food on his plate again. He would not look at her.
The corners of the blonde's lips turned down into a frown. "I'm sorry, I know this is hard for you, but Bella says—"
"What do I say?" Bellatrix asked, coming back into the dining room before she flopped back into her chair, quirking an eyebrow at her sister. "I took it. Happy now?"
"Immensely," Narcissa deadpanned before she nodded her head toward her son, trying to make Bellatrix aware that Draco was upset. "I just told Draco that we aren't allowed to visit his father in prison, but I wanted to assure him that Lucius won't be in there for long. You said the Dark Lord plans to release him and the others soon, right?"
Bellatrix, however, didn't even look like she was listening to Narcissa. Instead she was staring at Draco as though she didn't know what to make of him, but was fairly certain she did not like whatever it was. "Are you crying? Gross."
Draco slammed his hand on the table. "I'm not fucking crying!" he shouted before he got up from his chair, no doubt planning to storm off.
"Draco, please— sit down. Bella, shut up. His father is in prison, have some compassion. Despite what you'd like to have the world believe I know you have some. Pretend Draco is me, if that helps you not be an insufferable bitch about being confronted by actual human emotion."
Bellatrix snorted. "Believe me, Cissy, neither of us want me to pretend your offspring is you."
Narcissa shot her a furious look at the implication, which Bellatrix at least looked a little grossed out by herself. Ugh. Why was she like this? It was like she never bothered to take a second to think about things before they fell out of her mouth. Disgusting herself was quite a feat, after all. Ridiculous.
"Will you just tell him what the Dark Lord said? Please."
"Sorry, can't," Bellatrix responded flippantly, apparently irritated by being reprimanded and thus sought to do some in return. "Rule number… twelve or something, was it? Did they have numbers; I don't remember. Either way, I do know one of them is that I'm not allowed to speak about the Dark Lord's plans, and if we start bending the rules now, who knows what else will unravel? It's terribly risky to the kid's sensitive disposition, Cissy— best not."
Narcissa exhaled a hard breath through her nose, but turned back toward her son who had reluctantly flopped back down into his chair. "Your father won't be in prison for long, Draco; I promise. His master will release him and the others when he can— for now, let's just try to make the best of a bad situation. Your aunt, as annoying as she may be, has offered to teach you some magic while you're home for the summer— legal magic," Narcissa was quick to clarify. "You are, of course, free to decline, but the offer is there should you wish to take her up on it."
Draco shifted his gaze toward Bellatrix, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He still had a sour look on his face, but he did look a little intrigued by the offer despite his obvious hesitancy to spend one-on-one time with Bellatrix. "Like what?" he asked begrudgingly.
"Like whatever your mother deems appropriate; I'm sure there will be some kind of fancy list involved with bullet points and 'no Unforgivables' underlined in red three sodding times," Bellatrix responded, rolling her eyes. She put her foot up on the edge of the chair next to her but Narcissa refrained from chastising her, as it was nearly nine in the morning and she had already had her fill of trying to rectify her sister's bad behavior for the day. "I have shit patience though— so try not to suck at absolutely everything, otherwise this will be fucking miserable for the both of us."
"I've learned some things!" Draco insisted, to which Bellatrix quirked an eyebrow at before she grabbed her wand from inside of her robes. Thankfully Draco's was lying right next to his fork and he was able to grab it and conjure a shield charm just as Bellatrix threw a jinx at him. It wasn't strong enough to protect him completely though and Draco shouted as he went toppling over backwards in his chair.
"Not at the breakfast table!" Narcissa shrieked as she immediately stood from her chair. Bellatrix snorted and Draco groaned in pain, rubbing his back.
"Needs work," Bellatrix noted flatly and Draco glared at her, picking himself up off the ground. "But you're not complete shit— better than your mother, at any rate. Cissy's reflexes are fucking awful."
"When it comes to physical magic, perhaps. No— put down your wand. I said not at the breakfast table and I meant it."
"Oh, come on; put your money where your mouth is," Bellatrix taunted her, assuming she knew what Narcissa meant by being better at non-physical magic. She disregarded her sister's wishes then, immediately preforming Legilimency on her. All she was met with was a blank wall though, and the very minor effort Narcissa had to expend in order to block her out made Bellatrix's brow rise. "Have you been practicing?" she asked in absolute disbelief, as with the Dark Lord's fall it wasn't as though Narcissa had to fear such an intrusion anymore.
"I've been raped of my choice and of my control too many times in my life to allow someone to do that to my mind as well; if I can prevent it, then I will so yes, of course I continued practicing," Narcissa told her, unaware of her terrible choice of wording. "If I can only be good at one thing, then at least it will be something that protects me."
Bellatrix looked deeply upset all of a sudden though, and Draco in turn looked concerned as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. "…Mother?" he asked softly, not liking the word that she had used. Narcissa realized far too late what she had said though and her lips parted as she sat back down in her chair.
"That was… a poor choice of wording," she placated, trying to keep her tone even as she forced a comforting smile toward her son. "I merely meant that having Legilimency performed on you is incredibly violating and feels what I assume would feel similar to… that. I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to concern you."
Bellatrix's jaw twitched and Narcissa realized that was the first time her sister had heard her call Draco something that she had used to only reserve for her. She said nothing though, too caught up in her own suffocating emotions from the word that Narcissa had used. She could not move past it.
Draco, however, apparently did not believe her explanation. He looked deeply upset now, his fingers clenching into a fist as his breathing shallowed. He looked toward his aunt then. "Did you kill them?" he asked in a low tone, needing to know that the person who had done that to his mother was no longer breathing. Narcissa's heart clenched in her chest and tears sprung to her eyes as she watched her sister struggle with the reality they both hated to face, as it had been so very long ago.
God, why, why had she said that? She had honestly meant it as just a generalization that she had consistently felt helpless and at the mercy of others for most of her life, yet she had to say that fucking word, didn't she? It might have been the truth, but Narcissa had not meant to vocalize it. Whether it was the subconscious reason she practiced Occlumency so hard, whether it was the reason she desired so strongly to protect herself in any way she could, Narcissa still did not want to accept the truth that Bellatrix had all those years ago.
To Narcissa, it had been statutory. To Bellatrix, it had been something far, far worse.
"Bella…"
"Yes," Bellatrix told her nephew in a detached voice, ignoring her sister's plea as she stared at the far wall, her own eyes washing over with unshed emotion. "I killed them."
And perhaps, in some way, she had; Bellatrix had certainly killed the part inside of her that was capable of doing such a thing, but it wasn't enough. She knew that, and the reality that she could never take back what she stole from Narcissa haunted her. Bellatrix looked sick.
She looked down then, at her left arm that was covered by her robe. "He's summoning me. I have to go," Bellatrix told them, yet Narcissa knew it was a lie. Whenever the mark burned, it burned, and Bellatrix hissed through her teeth when she felt it. There was no such sound this time though, and she did not disapparate in a cloud of black smoke, but just as Narcissa did whenever she traveled— simply there one minute and gone the next.
"—Bella!"
Shit. Where was she going? There weren't many safe places for her! Narcissa's stomach twisted in anxiety and guilt, hating that she had inadvertently upset her sister enough to have her leave. If something happened to Bellatrix while she was out, Narcissa would never forgive herself.
Narcissa had not realized that her son had gotten up from his chair until he was in front of her. She did not have time to say anything though before Draco wrapped her up in his arms, holding her tight. That was all it took for Narcissa to lose the grip she had on her emotions and she exhaled a quiet sob, her fingers holding tight to her baby boy who was so devastated on her behalf. "Please, don't— don't be upset, darling; it's fine, I'm fine," Narcissa tried to assure him, but Draco had angry tears in his eyes as he held onto his mother.
"If anyone touches you again, I'll kill them, Mum. I promise."
"Oh, my fierce dragon, I know you will," Narcissa whispered as they pulled apart, gently cupping her son's face in her hands. She loved him so much, and despite their squabbles brought on by the typical teenage behavior he had been adopting lately, Draco loved her too. Fiercely. Narcissa had no doubt in her mind that Draco meant every word he said, and while she loved him for that, she also did not want him thinking that he had to become his mother's protector. "But it was a very long time ago. I'm okay now. No one will ever hurt me again, don't worry."
Draco still seemed very upset though and stuck to his mother like glue for the better part of the day, as though he feared that should he leave her side that something terrible would happen to her. Bellatrix did not come back for hours, and each minute that passed the more upset Narcissa got as she feared something had happened to her sister. Eventually however, Narcissa realized that Bellatrix had come home— she just hadn't made her presence known. Narcissa had passed the guest room that her sister was pretending to use when she heard a strange noise inside. Her brow creasing, she tentatively placed her hand on the doorknob before gently turning it, allowing the door to swing open. What she saw inside horrified her.
Bellatrix was huddled in a ball in the center of the bed, beaten, bruised, and bloody. "Bella—" Narcissa gasped, watching her sister tremble and grimace as she allowed the pain to consume her. She wanted to feel this, of that Narcissa had no doubt, as she had always known and despised Bellatrix's coping mechanisms when it came to emotional pain. Tears welled up in Narcissa's eyes then as she quickly crossed the room to be at her sister's side, but Bellatrix immediately shouted at her.
"Get out!"
"No, Bella— you can't stay like this…"
"I want it, I need to— stop!" Bellatrix shrieked, slapping her sister's wand out of her hand. It clattered to the ground and Bellatrix exhaled a strained shout from the pain the abrupt movement caused her before she huddled back into a ball, holding herself. Narcissa's tears spilled down her cheeks, knowing she had caused this.
"What did you do… God, Bella, this wasn't what I wanted…" she sobbed, hating herself for the misery she caused Bellatrix. "I didn't mean to say it, I'm sorry— I've forgiven you, I promise I have, I just used the wrong word to describe how helpless I felt for most of my life…"
"Just get out," Bellatrix seethed, tears welling up in her own eyes now. She refused to look at Narcissa though, choosing instead to stare at the far wall. Narcissa sobbed as she picked up her wand from off the floor, but did not try to heal her. Not yet.
"Why did he do this to you?" Narcissa asked in a devastated whisper, knowing what Voldemort's handiwork looked like by now. "I thought… I thought he was done punishing you, Bella, what did you say…?"
Bellatrix's jaw clenched. "I offered to take Lucius' punishment," she told her after a long moment, her gaze still firmly on the wall. "Lucius is a pussy— he wouldn't be able to handle this after he gets out of Azkaban. I didn't want you… getting more upset." A tear fell down her cheek then, but Bellatrix was quick to wipe it away as though the proof of her own emotion burned her skin.
Narcissa choked up, hardly able to believe that Bellatrix would do something like that. She understood that her sister just needed to feel pain, that she needed to feel punished for what she had done so very long ago, but she could have easily sparked the Dark Lord's ire some other way. This way, she got what she wanted while also protecting someone that Narcissa cared about. Narcissa sobbed harder, feeling so terribly awful about how she had been treating her. She kept acting as though Bellatrix was a burden to her, yet look at what the woman sacrificed for her in return.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my love— I don't deserve you, I'm sorry…" Narcissa wept, grasping her sister's hands in her own as she bowed her head in shame and regret. She hated herself so very thoroughly in that moment, and the weight of it felt as though it was crushing her larynx.
"…Mother?"
Shit. The door was still open— how long had Draco been standing there? If nothing else he had probably heard what Narcissa had called her sister, but as she called him the same thing, perhaps he thought nothing of it; that it was merely a term of affection toward those she cared for. Narcissa looked up at him then, her cheeks blotchy and wet.
"Get out— get him out!"
"Draco, go downstairs— it's fine. She's fine. Please," Narcissa begged, knowing Bellatrix hated looking weak in front of anyone other than Narcissa. "Just— prepare some healing paste from the dittany in the potions cabinet downstairs, will you? I'll be down soon."
Draco looked deeply disturbed by the sight of his aunt so beaten and bloody, but did as he was told and scurried downstairs to prepare what his mother needed. "I told you not to fucking heal me—" Bellatrix snapped dangerously, but Narcissa would not hear of it.
"You can't stay like this, Bella— stop punishing yourself!" she begged before she used her wand to close the door and cast a silencing charm, making certain Draco could not overhear them should he come back up the stairs. She looked back at the woman on the bed, her heart breaking in half. "It was almost thirty years ago, please… It's over, it's over."
"It'll never be over," Bellatrix breathed regrettably, furiously wiping at her eyes. "I can't love you enough to make that stain on your soul disappear. I can't protect you enough to make up for when it was me you needed protection from. I can't fix it, I can't make it better, all because I couldn't control how fucked up I was— seventeen years old and lusting after a fucking child, knowing I could have whatever I wanted because you were too weak to say no; I'm sick, I'm vile, I hate myself, I hate—"
"Stop, please— please stop," Narcissa sobbed, clambering into bed with her sister before she wrapped Bellatrix up in her arms, feeling the woman shudder and cry beneath her. "We've done this, okay? We've done this— we acknowledged it and moved on, please stop…"
"No," Bellatrix corrected in a broken whisper, too weak to push her sister off of her. "We acknowledged it, but neither of us moved on. You used that word for a reason, Cissy, whether you want to fucking admit it or not, and I…" Bellatrix trailed off, looking haunted. Narcissa's brow creased as she gently pushed the hair from her sister's eyes, her fingers lingering on the hollow of Bellatrix's cheeks. "Do you know what it feels like to relive the worst moments of your life? Over and over again… for fifteen years, that was all I felt. And it wasn't the people I've tortured or the murders I've committed that haunted me in there; I'll never regret or care what I've done to others. But what I've done to you… that— that was what I was tortured by, Narcissa; that was how my soul was shredded. That was how I died in there."
Narcissa didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to feel, what to say, and so all she could do was weep as she pressed her lips against her sister's, needing her to know that she still loved her. Bellatrix did not kiss her back though and Narcissa exhaled a shuddered sob as she pulled away, resting her forehead on her sister's. "You didn't die," Narcissa reminded her, wetness pouring down the contour of her cheeks. "You're here, you're with me. Please, Bella, don't do this, don't pull away from me. I've forgiven you— please, please… you need to forgive yourself."
"Do I?" Bellatrix asked in a hollow voice. She still would not look at her, nor acknowledge that she was still crying. Tears slid down her cheeks in silent lines, pooling in the crook of her neck, and her voice was cracked and broken. "Why? Because I deserve not to be haunted by sins? You and I both know I deserve a lot worse than that."
"I don't care what you deserve, Bella," Narcissa stressed, needing her to understand that. "I know you're not a good person— neither am I. Maybe I didn't deserve to be sexually abused as a child, but I certainly fucking deserve it now—"
"What?" Bellatrix asked and now, now she was finally looking at her. She pulled away from her, horrified that she would even think such a thing, let alone say it out loud. "What?"
"Well I deserve something, don't I?!" Narcissa exclaimed, just trying to make sense of the world; trying to find a reason that this all happened. It was the only way the whole thing felt bearable. "Maybe not that specifically, but I deserve to be punished for how I treat people, for how I destroy damn near everyone around me; I deserve to be punished for Aquila, I deserve to be punished for Margret—"
"Cissy, that was an accident—"
"I don't care!" Narcissa shouted, feeling overwhelmed and so terribly guilty. "Maybe that was all it was, what happened between you and I— the punishment that I would soon grow to deserve. I am a terrible person; I like to tell myself that I'm not, that I've somehow transcended all the bullshit that I used to wrap myself up in when I was younger, but I haven't. You have no idea what I've been doing to people, Bella, and you have no fucking idea what I deserve."
Bellatrix's eyes searched hers, a strange expression on her face; she knew she would be hurt by whatever it was, yet she still wanted the pain. She still needed to hear it. "Tell me," Bellatrix demanded. Narcissa just laughed bitterly.
"No," she denied. "And would you like to know why? Because I want to deserve it; I need to feel like I deserve my past because that's what makes it bearable. If you want to label it as rape then fine, it was rape—" Bellatrix flinched at the word, but Narcissa wasn't finished. "But with the way I take advantage of people, perhaps I deserved to have someone take advantage of me in turn. It's the circle of bloody life, isn't it? I'm tired of people victimizing me when I've emotionally victimized others my whole life— who gives a shit, honestly, about my body? It's just a body. I rob people of their love. I destroy people's souls. Both of those are far, far more valuable."
"Jesus, Cissy—" Bellatrix breathed as she hoisted herself into a seated position, her sister's tirade having kicked her out of her own misery and self-loathing. "What the— what the fuck is going on?" She sounded so lost suddenly, so helpless by what she was confronted by, and Bellatrix took the best guess she had to try to figure out why Narcissa was saying these kinds of horrible things about herself. "Is this about Lucius—?"
Narcissa looked away, more tears spilling down her cheeks despite her desire to stop them. Yes, it was about him. It was about her. It was about Cassandra. It was about how she was shredding those who cared for her by trying to have everything, by lying, by doing the same things she had always done. She felt stuck in a cycle she couldn't get out of and there was a part of Narcissa that desperately wanted to tell Bellatrix the truth— tell her that she had fallen for someone else, that her romantic life had gotten infinitely more complicated as she sectioned another part of her heart off for a third because apparently now two people were not enough for her because she was selfish, because she was awful, but the words wouldn't come because she knew it would only make things worse.
Absolving herself of her guilt shouldn't have to come at the cost of breaking her sister's heart.
"I miss him," Narcissa sobbed, finally allowing herself to truly feel the loss of Lucius, because it was the only thing she could talk about with Bellatrix, it was the only thing her sister would understand. "But I know I don't deserve him, and after everything I've put him through I know I don't have a right to ask to rebuild our marriage, but it doesn't matter even if I did because he's gone— he's just… he's just gone and I miss him, Bella; I want him here, I want him back…"
"He's going to come back, Cissy— come on, stop crying. Look at me," Bellatrix coaxed, sliding her palm over her sister's cheek to catch her gaze. "I knew it was bollocks that you guys fell out of love with one another— maybe it's not the same, but it's still there, and I know that because I can still see it and I still hate it. I've always hated it, but I know there's nothing I can do. You're allowed to love him, Cissy. Lucius and I… we know the other is an inevitability in your life. It doesn't hurt us anymore— not like it used to. I know I can be possessive and shitty, but I want you to be happy. We both just want you happy, so… so just have us both, okay? Be fucking happy, for shit's sake, Cissy. I can't fucking stand seeing you like this…"
"He doesn't want— it doesn't matter," Narcissa breathed, finding this conversation fruitless. Although she was grateful that Bellatrix had basically given her her blessing to be with her husband again, it mattered very little considering where Lucius now resided. Besides, he was not the only person who weighed heavy on her soul, but that could not be rectified with a conversation with Bellatrix, as the rules for Lucius were so very, very different from the rules with anyone else.
The blonde exhaled a shuddered sigh, rising from the bed. "I need to get the paste that Draco made. I don't want you to scar. I'll be— I'll be right back."
Thankfully Bellatrix did not argue this time, and Narcissa left the guest room and padded downstairs to the kitchen to find her son looking terribly anxious. Narcissa gave him a small, comforting smile, but with her reddened and puffy eyes and tear-stains on her cheeks, it probably did little good. "It's okay," she told him softly. "Did you do as I asked, darling?"
"Yeah," Draco responded, his tone just as soft as he grabbed the mortar from off the counter, handing it to his mother. Narcissa thanked him by gently kissing him on the top of his head. "Mother?" he asked before she could leave again, his tone tentative. When Narcissa looked at him, Draco asked, "Did the Dark Lord do that to her?"
"Yes," Narcissa answered, not wishing to scare him but also not wishing to lie. Besides, despite why it came about, Bellatrix's sacrifice deserved to be acknowledged. "But your Aunt asked him to— she asked to take your father's punishment for his failure, so that Lucius did not have to endure it when he was released from Azkaban."
"Why…?"
"For me," Narcissa told him softly, finding the gesture to be romantic despite the horror it held. Perhaps that had always been her problem though; if Bellatrix could carve out her heart and give it to her without dying in the process, Narcissa would find the insane gesture to be the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her, because she was fucked up just the same as Bellatrix. She always had been. "But this was what I meant, when I warned you of how she could be before she got here. Bella loves me more than anything in this world, but she doesn't have the best judgment when it comes to how to show it. I am thankful for her though, and I am thankful for what she sacrificed, because your father— he is a strong man, but he has his limits. She did this to spare me— to spare us, all of us, the pain of having to endure that."
"I know she is a lot, Draco, and I know… I know she isn't the kindest person in the world, but she loves me and because of that, she will always protect our family," Narcissa promised, as she knew her sister would never rest until Narcissa felt safe, and until those that she loved were safe in turn as their safety provided her with comfort. "And that is more important to me than anything else. I am grateful for her. I owe her everything."
Draco did not say anything in return, but he seemed to understand his mother's feelings all the same as he nodded. Narcissa gently smiled at him, coming in to give him another quick peck on the top of his head. "I know it's been a very emotional day," she told him understandingly. "Go see your friends tomorrow, alright? Have some fun. I won't even ask where you're going or what you're doing; you're almost a man now, and I trust you. Just be sure to be home for dinner, okay? That's all I ask."
Draco looked excited for a moment, as Narcissa had never let him have that much freedom before, but then he looked at his mother, with her puffy eyes and mascara runs and he pursed his lips, resolved to his priorities. "No," he told her. "I want Aunt Bella to teach me stuff tomorrow. If— if she can." But then he tried to play down his decision with an eye roll and, "Crabbe and Goyle always sleep the whole first week of summer vacation anyway; the fat lumps."
Narcissa read between the lines anyway and although her heart warmed from the gesture, she also didn't want Draco feeling as though he needed to fit into a certain role. He was still a kid; Narcissa wanted him to enjoy what was left of his childhood. "It's not your job to protect me, Draco," she gently reminded him, and her son rolled his eyes again.
"I know, Mum— I just want to learn some stuff okay? Not everything is about you."
Well, that was news to her.
Still, Narcissa allowed him to have his excuse. If this was how Draco wished to spend his summer vacation, then far be it for her to deny him. Besides, lessons with Bellatrix would help keep him safe should this war become exponentially bigger this time around, which it no doubt would eventually. The second wave of anything always tended to be more devastating than the first.
"I will ask Bella if she's up for it," Narcissa promised him. "Physically I know she'll be fine once I tend to her, but emotionally— well, even if she is, she will not be pleasant during your lessons. She will not be nice to you, Draco, especially because you saw her cry today. To her, that is a grave insult. So if she gives you lessons she will not go easy on you; she is no doubt going to humiliate you until you get it right, and she is going to piss you off. Do you think you can handle that?"
Draco sucked in a sharp breath but he had steeled his resolve already, nodding. Narcissa smiled softly at him, finding him so grown up all of a sudden. "My brave boy."
Draco rolled his eyes again. "It's not brave—"
"Darling, I would call anyone who wished to share Bella's bed brave, but to cross wands with her, even under controlled circumstances? That is more so," Narcissa responded honestly. "Just please— try to have patience with yourself, and ignore any insults she may hurl your way for not getting something right away. Everything came naturally to Bellatrix, so she has a hard time realizing that others have to practice things to perfect them."
"And… I know I have always asked you to respect family, but Bella will not respect you. Not until you earn it. Therefore I do not expect you to stay silent as she berates and insults you, as I will not have her trample all over you emotionally— however, still be mindful of what you say, as on your head be the consequences."
Draco was certain that he understood what he was asking for, but of course he did not. The next morning Narcissa watched her son be thrown across their basement with incredible ease, her lips pursed into a thin line. She had tried to make it a bit more suited for this kind of purpose, but even the mats that lined the floor didn't seem to be helping much with Draco's bruises. Still, to his credit he kept getting up time and time again, although his frustration seemed to be mounting as time went on.
"This is ridiculous; are you even trying? I've seen mudbloods conjure a better fucking defense than that!"
Draco, who was growing red in the face, tried to throw a jinx at his aunt that Bellatrix easily deflected. He tried again and again, no doubt hoping the onslaught of spells would throw her off balance, but Bellatrix was starting to look bored.
"Pathetic. No wonder you ended up in the hospital; you must like feeling weak, being a victim— what an embarrassment to your race, you are," Bellatrix told him scathingly, hitting him with another spell that took Draco's feet right from under him. He hit the ground hard and swore. "Are you so starved for fucking attention that you want to get hurt so your Mummy will swoop in and kiss your boo-boos? Nearly a man, yet you cry like a little boy—"
Bellatrix threw another jinx at him once he stood, but this time Draco's Protego spell was so strong it actually forced itself toward her, at least causing Bellatrix to back up a few steps, unsteady on her feet. "There we go," she encouraged, and Narcissa exhaled a breath she had been holding. She knew what Bellatrix was trying to do, which was why she kept herself silent despite hating the things Bellatrix was saying to her son. "Use your anger, child; it's the strongest thing you'll ever feel."
"Don't call me 'child'," Draco responded dangerously, and Bellatrix smirked at his fury. "I'm not one, and I have a bloody name!"
"Impress me then, and perhaps I'll use it. Until then, you are no more than my sister's spawn— a mere shadow of someone far better than yourself."
Narcissa pursed her lips in a tight line, but stayed silent. She knew Bellatrix's teaching methods were unorthodox, but she also knew she would get results. Besides, this was what Draco had wanted.
"Mother, you don't have to babysit; I'm fine, just go!" Draco shot at her, taking out his frustrations on someone that would not call him names. Besides, he was probably beginning to get embarrassed by getting knocked on his arse over and over with a witness.
"I'm not here to babysit you, Draco."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, but she also would not look at her. Bellatrix had been a little distant after their conversation the previous day, and while it made Narcissa's heart ache, she also knew that Bellatrix no doubt needed some time to try to forget the past and stop feeling guilty. Because she would, eventually; they might recognize over and over what terrible things they have done to one another, how bad they were for one another, but nothing ever really changed. It was just part of the cycle at this point. Besides, doing this was no doubt only an attempt to alleviate some of the guilt Bellatrix felt, as everyone in the room knew that she was only teaching and spending time with Draco because that was what Narcissa wanted her to do.
Narcissa wanted to spend some time with her sister, assure her that she was loved and forgiven and that her own self-loathing was not a result of her, as Bellatrix had seemed deeply disturbed by the things she had said about herself yesterday, but she unfortunately did not have time, nor did she think she had the capacity to split herself emotionally today. Her date with Cassandra was tonight and the woman deserved Narcissa's whole focus, at least for a short while. Besides, she lived with Bellatrix; there would be time to dote on her later.
After another half hour of back and forth between aunt and nephew, which Draco was getting much better at thankfully, Draco seemed to reach the end of his patience. "This is stupid— I already know all this stuff," he spat, his frustration still hovering near the surface. "I can practice shield charms anytime; teach me something new. Something no one else at my school would know!"
Bellatrix snorted. "You've barely grasped the basics— you'll only embarrass yourself if you try something beyond your means. Besides, your mother won't let me teach you anything fun."
Draco shot his mother a furious glare, but Narcissa stared at him unapologetically. She had put restrictions on him for a reason and she was not sorry about that.
"Then— then teach me something legal, teach me what you did yesterday. I want to read people's minds! I'll know what's coming if I can do that, right? That's a defense," he spat the word out like it was vile, which only made Bellatrix smirk. She, at the very least, approved of her nephew's desire to not want to be bound by what she would consider to be 'soft' magic. Still, Narcissa would not budge on the subject.
"No," Narcissa stressed, shutting that down immediately. "Besides, Legilimency might be legal but it's also frowned upon in civilized circles; you can't just go around reading people's minds, Draco, that is an awful violation, or were you not listening to what I said yesterday?"
Draco immediately looked ashamed of himself and Bellatrix's jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Narcissa felt bad reminding her son of her words in front of her sister, but she also didn't want Draco to think that just because he could feasibly learn to do something that he should. She was a parent above all else, as much as it hurt her to ignore Bellatrix's feelings like that.
"However, if you wish to be protected by those who seek to do the same to you then… I will allow it," Narcissa relented, knowing Draco wanted more than what she had been allotting him. "It is not easy though, and if you think your aunt is bad now she will be worse when she breaks into your mind and sees everything you do not wish her to."
Draco looked hesitant, especially after Bellatrix looked as though this could get infinitely more interesting for her. Still, he wanted to come out of these lessons stronger than he was before, and so assured her, "I can handle it. I'm not a kid, Mother. You don't need to keep hovering."
"Darling, the fact that you need to tell me that you're not a child, assures me that you very much still are." Draco glowered at that, but Narcissa rose from her place on the steps. "However, I can also take a hint; if you want your lessons with Bellatrix to be private, then so be it."
Narcissa wished he did not feel that way, but she understood— especially if Bellatrix was going to teach him Occlumency, he in no way wanted his mother to know his private thoughts, which Bellatrix would no doubt taunt him about in order to make him feel the desperate need to close his mind. Narcissa knew she could not fault him for that, so she allotted Draco's wish for privacy.
Still, she shot her sister a look of warning. "Be nice," Narcissa reminded her, even though she knew it would do no good as she doubted Bellatrix could be nice. Still, she needed to trust that Bellatrix wouldn't hurt her son; at least not in any lasting, permanent way.
"This is my nice, Cissy."
And, well, that was true. Bellatrix could be much, much worse, and they both knew it. Compared to what she could do to Draco, this was almost caring. Narcissa shot her sister an appreciative smile, knowing that this probably wasn't the way she wanted to spend her time, but appreciating it all the same. Bellatrix barely acknowledged her though, and Narcissa exhaled a small sigh. She needed to rectify this, and soon.
But that was a project for another day. For now, all Narcissa could do was hope that Bellatrix would teach her son how to be strong, how to defend himself from attacks both physical and mental, and that they wouldn't end up hating each other in the process, as she knew this would not be easy for either of them.
Because neither of them had much capacity for patience.
TBC…