The Fourth Sister
By Misha

Disclaimer- Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and is not mine, however much I might wish differently. However, I am not making any money off of this, so please do not sue me!

Author's Notes- I have no idea where this came from. It's dark, it's depressing and it messes with the story as we know it. Still, I couldn't resist. It's told from Narcissa's point of you and is rather disturbing. I just wanted to play around with an idea and this is the result. Well, that's all, enjoy!

Rating- PG-13

Summery- History remembers only three Black sisters, but once there was a fourth.

Spoilers- Big ones for OotP and minor ones for the first four books.

There were once four Black sisters. No one knows that except me, or at least no one else remembers.

But then, I know more than everyone else.

The world remembers only that there were three of us, before Andromeda left and before Bellatrix went away.

But I know more.

It started with Mother and Father.

Mother was weak. In more ways than one. She was not a strong personality, never had been. Nor were her beliefs as strong.

I think had she been a stronger personality Mother would have been a blood-traitor. But she didn't have it in her to reject what her parents stood for. What Father stood for.

So instead, she just became weaker, hating everything around her. Hating Father for what he, hating us for being like him, and hating herself for not being able to leave.

But she did have one moment of strength, one rare betrayal which only I know about. She told me on her death bed and I have never told another soul, have never been able to bring myself to.

You see, I am Narcissa, the third Black daughter.

First there was Bellatrix, she was Father's pride and joy, the one most like him.

She was a Black to the bone and that was why she chose the life she did. A devoted Death Eater, she spent so long in Azkaban and yet, she is still tied to the cause. I watch her now and wonder how I ever thought of her as the strong one.

After Bella, came Andromeda. The strange one. The one, who I think, in the end, was Mother's favorite, or at least her favorite of the three of us.

After all, Andromeda was the one who left. She married a mudblood and was wiped from our history, though not from my memory.

Never that.

I came third and last in everybody's mind. No one loved me best.

Yet, I tried so hard to be the best. I wanted nothing more than to be perfect. I did what I was told, I married the man I was supposed to and bore his heir. All I wanted was my parents' approval, I wanted to be perfect.

I know now that I never could have been, because I was tainted at birth. I could never be the best, because I was only half a person.

That is where the fourth daughter comes in. Mother's one triumph.

When I was born, I was a twin. One of two.

But Mother decided to save at least one of her children, and chose my twin. She had a sister, Iris, who was never spoken of, she was a squib who lived as a Muggle.

When my twin and I were a few days old, my mother learnt, quite by accident, that her sister's daughter, who was only a few days older than us, was not expected to live.

She had heard this through another sister, Dahlila, who had secretly kept in contact with Iris. There were more than a few blood traitors on my mother's side, I think, though they all kept quite about it.

Anyway, Mother and her two sisters hatched a plot. Dahlila took Iris' daughter and gave her polyjuice, then snuck her into the Manor and placed her in my twin's place. She then took my twin out of the Manor and out of our lives.

The other baby, the one that people thought was my twin, died the next day and she rests with the rest of our family. Hyacinth Black, sister of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.

Except, she didn't die that day.

She is dead now, though. She was dead when Mother told me the truth.

Mother wept as she told me, yet she was so proud. So proud of her fourth daughter, in a way that she would never be proud of me.

I could never be prefect, because the memory of my sister lingered. Father saw me as half a whole and when Mother looked at me she saw the daughter she had managed to save. The daughter she loved better than me.

The strange part of all of this is that I knew my twin. Not as a sister, nor as a friend, not even as an enemy.

But I knew her. She was simply there.

I laughed when Mother told me the truth, pride and defiance coloring her tone. Laughed at the irony and in appreciation of Mother's one act of betrayal, for it was a fine one.

I also laughed over the fact that only I would ever know. So many others would love that information or perhaps they wouldn't, because it would change what everyone believes.

I have thought about telling Lucius, but decided against it. For a lot of reasons, the truth will benefit no one now. My twin is dead and though her son lives, he is long lost to the Black family.

Maybe that is why I keep it secret, for my sister's son, who is a safe from the ruinous legacy of his blood kin.

He would be horrified, I'm sure, to know the truth. Especially, as I gather that he and my son aren't too fond of each other.

I can understand that, Draco's an irritating boy, too much like his father. I'm sure that Draco would be disgusted to realize that his blood rests in the veins of his worst enemy.

It is a funny thought, that my son and Harry Potter are first cousins.

Yes, Harry Potter. My twin, the long-lost fourth Black sister, was none other than Lily Evans.

I'll never forget the morning I found out.

"Mother." I said, as I entered the room.

"Narcissa." Mother murmured. "The spawn of my loins, the last of my daughters. But you always were a pale imitation, weren't you?"

I pursed my lips in a slight smile. "I'm also the only one you have left."

"Yes." She said, staring at me. "Bella has gotten what has coming to her, as I always knew I would. She was all your father, as vile and dark as he was. Andromeda escaped and I bless her for it. And my baby, my baby is gone."

"Mother, I'm your 'baby'." I said with a laugh, wondering if she hadn't finally lost her marbles.

She looked at me and sneered. "You? You were never anything, just an afterthought. No, my dear Narcissa, I had another daughter, one who the rest of the world believes died over twenty years ago."

"Oh, yes, my twin." I said, remembering suddenly the sister who died when we were infants. Perhaps she was the lucky one.

Mother stared at the wall, as if in deep of thought. "There's no harm in telling you now." She whispered, more to herself than me. "I'm dying, your father is dead, I'm free from him. I don't care now if you know what I did."

"What are you talking about?" I asked scornfully.

It was then that she told me, triumph echoing her every word.

"And you know the best part?" She asked, once she was done. "Do you know how I know what I did was right?"

"How?" I asked, feeling empty.

"By who she became." Mother said with glee. "Your father would be turning in his grave if he knew and it fills me with joy. She was the best thing I ever did, giving her a chance at life and she fulfilled it. Do you know who she was?"

"Who?" I asked, not really caring.

"Lily." She whispered, as if savoring the name. "My precious child was none other than Lily Evans-Potter."

Mother looked me straight in the eye. "How about that? Your twin sister is the mother of the Boy Who Lived."

That was in 1983, just two years after Lily's death.

I've spent the last thirteen years remembering that conversation and thinking about the sister I never knew.

Bella would flip if she knew the truth. That the 'redhead mudblood bitch', as she is known to refer to her, was her sister.

We all went to school with Lily, though Andromeda was in Third Year when she started and Bella in Fourth.

Only Bella ever had a strong reaction to her. Andromeda only ever knew her slightly, as far as I know, as one would know someone two years younger than them and in a seperate House, and I saw her as being of no relevance. Just another mudblood.

But for Bella, it was different. Bella despised her, yet was constantly obsessed with her. She went out of her way to torment her and sometimes would just stare at her across the Great Hall.

In fact, Bella's reaction to Lily reminds me of Draco's reaction to the Boy Who Lived. Hatred, mingled with resentment and fascination.

I never shared Bella's fascination. I saw Lily Evans as just another mudblood.

No, that's not exactly true. The few times I ever spoke to her face to face, there was something I couldn't explain. They were meaningless encounters that lingered much longer than they should have.

Now, of course, I understand why. Because we were twins. The bond existed beyond the surface, though never acknowledged.

The night of Halloween 1981 I experienced a strange, all-consuming pain that lasted a moment. I didn't understand it. Not until I learnt the truth.

I felt that pain because my twin was dying, for a moment I felt her pain. The pain of the sister I never knew.

It's strange, but even though she was the first to die, I think of her as the lucky one. She never had to live in this family, she escaped.

Her life, as short as it was, was happy. From all accounts she loved her husband and adored her son.

I married Lucius because Fathered ordered me to and though I am fond of Draco, I don't believe I love him the way my sister loved her son. Draco is too much like his father, like my father, for that to ever happen.

I have only ever seen my nephew with my own two eyes once and though I did not acknowledge his presence, I studied him. Lily's son.

There is a goodness that radiates from him. A goodness that reconfirmed my decision to keep secret what I know.

I will not allow him to be tainted like the rest of us. My mother had one moment of strength in her life and that allowed my twin to be free and this child to be what he must be.

It was fitting that Sirius was his godfather. A connection with the Black family, though I doubt that Sirius ever thought of himself as one of us. Still, in a round about way, at least my sister's son knew and cared about one member of his mother's true family.

My spies tell me that he is also acquainted with Andromeda's daughter. So the connection persists. Those who managed to escape us have been brought together.

There is so much that I know that no one else does.

Even Dumbledore has made choices based on false information. The boy is safe at his "aunt's" because she is of his mother's blood and that protection lingers.

That is both true and false. Petunia Evans is my cousin and was Lily's as well, but she is not the boy's only living maternal relative.

I believe that I or Bella could break that protection if we choose, as Lily's blood lingers in our veins.

I'm never going to test that theory, though, because like my sister I aim to protect the boy. He is the best thing that this family ever produced and he stirs feelings in me that no one else ever has.

So, I keep silent and allow the rewritten history to persist.

I will pretend that my twin died the day she was born. That for all intent of purpose there were only three Black girls. That Lily Evans was a mudblood and of no consequence to me. That Harry Potter is a half-blood, born of a mudblood and the blood-traitoring Potter clan.

It is better that way.

But in my heart, I know the truth that once there were four Black sisters and that the fourth sister was the best of all of us. After all, she was the only one who ever got to be totally free.

The End