Chapter Twenty-six:
Narcissa sighed, tapping her foot in a manic succession on the stone floor. In the front of the class Professor McGonagall was lecturing them about the importance of working to their highest potential in order to succeed on the Ordinary Wizarding Levels, again. This time the low test scores had brought it on
Narcissa couldn't care less. She had gotten a perfect score, as usual.
On a scrap piece of parchment she had doodled a small picture of Lucius cutting through the guts of a young man dangling in thin air. His face was grotesquely contorted in pain, his eye rolled into the back of his head.
Narcissa prodded it with the tip of her wand and watched as the knife swept up into the air then slashed through the man's abdomen. Inky black blood spilled out into the margins. This was the image that played through her mind all morning, a sick, twisted continuum that seemed to have no intention of stopping.
"…I hope better from all of you in the future," the Professor concluded, staring solemnly at her class over a pair of severe, square glasses. "Everyone who failed the test will write a two parchment essay on the topic with cited sources. No exceptions."
A low groan emitted as a single sound from most of the class, filling Narcissa's ear. She was back in the room dangling from the ceiling as Lucius strangled the life from her, groaning with perverse pleasure. She felt like puking but there nothing left in her stomach to heave up.
After breakfast she had self-induced the vomiting to get it over with, and for a while it took the urge away but now it had returned. Everything was just so fucked up. Lucius terrified the shit out of her, which should be an entirely unfounded fear. He had simply been protecting her honour and exacting vengeance upon someone who had done her wrong. He would have eventually reigned himself in before he had caused lasting damage; at least that's what she wanted to believe.
The dream, which she could still recall in horrific details, was just that, a dream. Anyway, they rarely meant what they seemed to mean.
Then there was the fact that her best friend didn't want to talk to her. Only because they'd created a harmless white lie to protect the reputation of everyone involved. Kerri could be so naïve sometimes. It had only been in the last year that she had discovered where babies came from. She used to think the phoenix brought them. Narcissa giggled to herself, wishing that everything could be back to the way it was. When they were just girls. No worries, no boys. Just them having sleepovers and eating tons of candy.
All this shit gave Narcissa the strongest urge to go and get extremely pissed like she usually did during the holidays with all her aristocratic friends maybe sniff some coke. She knew of a vampire at the Hogshead that sold it pretty cheap.
Only the stupid school had been locked down until the stupid animal that killed the boys was caught. So until then Narcissa was stuck in this hell-pit consumed by haunting images without anything to drown them out.
McGonagall was now drawing a complicated diagram on the board detailing exactly how they would turn their chairs into miniature giraffes. Blah… blah…blah…
After she had finished explaining the procedure she began to split everyone up into pairs. Her cloak swished softly against the flagstones as she moved through the room of students, separating friends and lovers. It was all part of some system to promote inclusion of everyone; they didn't want anyone to be left out so no friends were ever partnered to together.
Narcissa was doodling another picture of a large creature tearing two boys apart when she heard her name called. "Hmm…?" she said, barely paying attention, drawing a frighteningly accurate look of pain on one of the boy's faces as the monster ripped apart his stomach.
"You'll be partnered with Michael for the assignment,"
Narcissa looked up from her parchment at the brunette boy sitting on the other side of the classroom. He was gathering up his stuff and then made his way over. Michael's gait was timid and unsure beneath his flowing black robes.
"Looks like we're partners again," he croaked, coughing slightly, like he wasn't used to talking to people.
"I'll try not to blast you across the room this time. But no promises," she joked, stuffing the doodles hastily into a small pocket on the side of her bag. A thin stream of smoke floated out of it, and when it stopped Narcissa peered into to make sure it had been reduced ashes. You could never be too careful.
Michael giggled at the joke, plopping down into the desk next to her. "Thanks." His gaze was set firmly on the straight-backed chair they were supposed to be transfiguring. "So how are things?"
"Okay, I guess." She held up her hand before he could ask 'Why?' "I don't want to talk about it."
Michael nodded shyly. "Maybe we should get working on the chair, it looks like a pretty complicated spell."
Narcissa looked up at the black board, reading the steps quickly. "It shouldn't be that hard," she stated, pulling out her wand. "It's all a matter of mental control." But she knew it was easier said then done, she wasn't sure if she would be able to concentrate that hard when so much was rushing through her head.
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Michael had only been able to make the chair grow soft yellow and brown spotted skin and a squarish head. Narcissa had achieved less. Every time she tried to concentrate on changing it an image of a bloody Lucius stepped from the shadows of her thoughts carrying a nasty bloodstained knife, his icy blue eyes burning with a wild hunger.
"Concentrate harder, Narcissa," McGonagall suggested, watching as Narcissa managed to only make her chair grow a beady pair of brown eyes, which proceeded to roll sarcastically around. Narcissa kicked the chair angrily, snapping off one of its legs.
Michael looked worried; he reattached the leg then sat down next to Narcissa. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he asked, his soft features full of empathy. "It always helps me when I'm depressed. Just to know that someone cares."
"I'm not depressed," Narcissa lied, fortifying her face with the proper amount of regal beauty and iciness the way her mother taught her to. Women must always be composed. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all. It's all this talk about tests, I'm worried about failing the O.W.L.s." She turned back to the chair and waved her wand, concentrating on the words coming out of her mouth and the images of the chair transforming in her mind. When she felt the burning hunger slinking towards her she focused even harder on changing the chair, just to prove that nothing was wrong with her, and she was still as brilliant as ever.
Michael gasped as the chair changed rapidly into a miniature giraffe. Its back remained slightly flat but other than that it looked perfect. As soon as it could move it galloped across the room, trying to find refuge from all the loud noises. Everyone stopped to stare and McGonagall praised Narcissa on a job well done.
Narcissa smiled proudly and tucked her wand into her robes. "See I'm fine." Michael looked from the animal hiding behind the black board to Narcissa. He didn't look that convinced.
"Whatever," he muttered, chasing after the giraffe, which had turned back into a chair. Picking it up he watched Narcissa carefully. Her long blonde hair hung in her face, which held sadness beneath its strong façade. She was staring longingly at Kerri, who was flirting endlessly with her partner, constantly making sure Narcissa noticed. He wondered what was going on; usually those two were inseparable. Though he knew Narcissa would never tell him. Who was he? Just the geeky little pansy, no one liked him.
He was making his way back across the room when a chair ran right into his side, knocking him onto the floor. His thigh slammed into the stones. Kids began to laugh as he pulled himself up, brushing off his robes. His hip throbbed angrily as he hobbled back to Narcissa with the chair, everyone chuckling behind his back.
"You okay?" she asked, a worried mask plastered onto her face. Her fierce blue eyes wandered from his bright red face to the large clock hanging over the door. Her nimble fingers quickly wound a bit a string around them, anxiously it seemed. The panicked look he had seen in her face earlier during class was back.
He dropped the wooden chair to the floor and plopped down in it. "I'm fine," he muttered. "But you're not." It wasn't usual that he talked with other people so his manner was a bit rusty but the intention was there. "Are you really sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"I'm fine!" Narcissa shouted, whipping out of her seat. Her booted foot slammed onto the stone floor, her eyes blazing ferociously. "Why the hell can't you understand that!"
The room fell silent, all eyes turned towards Narcissa and Michael.
Michael ducked his head in embarrassment, his face burning a deep red. Narcissa simply stood there looking everyone in the eye defiantly, daring them to say anything. None of them did. They all went slowly back to their work, shooting sidelong stares at the middle Black sister.
McGonagall was about to go over and see if Narcissa was all right, but experience told her it would be pointless, so she fell back Most teenagers usually denied that anything was wrong, and only with constant coaxing would they break.
Michael on the other hand did not want to drop the topic. He knew how Narcissa was feeling, it was how he was felt most of the time. He could see it in her face. The total loneliness, the hopelessness.
He stood up and touched her shoulder, watching her fuming face carefully. His mouth opened to say that he hadn't wanted to annoy her when the classroom door flung open.
Bellatrix sauntered in, dressed in tight leather pants, a black halter top and a thick travelling cloak, which fluttered behind her like a funeral shroud.
"Bellatrix!" McGonnagall practically shouted, her lips becoming thin and colourless. "What are you doing here? The Headmaster expelled you, which means you shouldn't be on the property." She slipped her wand off her desk and held it inconspicuously at her side, just in case.
Bellatrix smiled weakly. Her face was slightly fallen and large black bags hung under her eyes. "Just coming to say good-bye to my little sis. Chill out."
An aura of dark, twisted sickness enveloped her body tightly and it made everyone in the vicinity slightly nauseous. One girl barfed all over her desk, finding the utter emptiness Bellatrix trailed overwhelming. Her eyes rolled up into the back of her and in her mind's eye she could see Bellatrix, older and more gaunter, sitting on a swing, cuddling a doll. A bottle of poison was tipped into her mouth. A gasped escaped the girls lips and she was ejaculated back into reality. "You will die all alone…" she whispered in a low, gravely voice, but no one heard her.
Narcissa pushed away Michael's hand and rushed over to Bellatrix leaping into her older sister's arms. Everything she had kept pent up for the last several days tore through her skin and she found herself blubbering uncontrollably, it didn't matter to her that everyone in the room was staring at them, it didn't even matter that she had screamed she was fine not a minute earlier, that was then. Never in her life had she known so much pain, never had she felt so much at once. Fear, sadness, anger… It was enough to drive even the sanest person crazy. '… say good-bye…'
Narcissa pulled away from Bellatrix and wiped the tears away on the sleeve of her robe. Her electric blue eyes, now puffy and red, stared Bellatrix down. "What do you mean 'to say good-bye'?"
The swish of a cloak filled the room as Bellatrix opened her mouth. McGonagall flicked her wand and Bellatrix's voice caught in her throat. Her eyes narrowed at the transfiguration teacher. A low buzz rose in the silence. All the students were staring at the three women with great trepidation.
"You are to leave these premises at once," McGonagall said sternly. "You no longer belong here and if you refuse to leave I'll be forced to call the Headmaster and he'll personally make sure you are thrown out."
Bellatrix pointed angrily at Narcissa, indicating she wanted to say good-bye. Narcissa pulled out her own wand and quickly undid the Professor's spell.
"Meet me at the secret hiding spot," Bellatrix blurted out. "I'll explain everything then."
McGonagall stared at her warningly. "I'm going… I'm going… don't get your knickers all in a twist," Bellatrix chuckled, as a single tear broke away from her eye and rolled down her cheek. "I love you Cissa." She blew a kiss to her kid sister. A faint outline of lips appeared on Narcissa's cheek.
She backed up towards the door, twirled around and walked out. All that was left of her was a light metallic taste in the air.
"Evanesco," McGonagall said cleaning up the puke now spilling over the desk onto the stone floor. The girl's face was extremely pale, images of what she'd seen flashing before her mind's eye. McGonagall gave her permission to go to the hospital wing. The girl ran out as quickly as she could, not looking anyone in the eye, for fear that they'd see what she saw.
"Get back to work," McGonagall snapped at Narcissa, sitting down her high-backed chair behind a neatly organised desk.
"Why was my sister expelled?" Narcissa demanded, pointing her elegant hands on her bony hips. "She hasn't done anything wrong." Well, she has. But not this time, she added to herself.
"I told you to get back to work Miss Black. Don't try my temper." The Professor stared at her over a pair of severe square glasses, the look said she wasn't kidding. "Needless to say your sister has finally pushed the boundaries of acceptable behaviour."
Reluctantly and angrily Narcissa turned back to Michael and pointed at the chair. "Your turn to change it." Michael gulped, everything he had been planning to tell her he now choked on.
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The main topic of discussion of lunch was the death of the two boys. Most of the Ravenclaw table was absent, and the few that were there looked like they would break down at any minute. Narcissa couldn't decide if they were saddened because the boys were killed or because they had lost two really good quidditch players. She supposed it was entirely their prerogative. It was always good to feel, quite unlike she felt now. Her insides felt like they had been frozen and no amount of bread pudding could lessen the dead nothing she didn't feel.
The universe had dealt her cards and she had been seriously fucked. Her sister was gone, her best friend was being a bitch, and her boyfriend, once the object of her fondest dreams was now the lead villain in her nightmares.
At least she would see Bellatrix soon. They had created a small loft in the caves on the outskirts of Hogsmeade when Narcissa had been in third year, and used it any time they needed to have some time alone. She had tried to find out why her sister was expelled but no one seemed to have any information, and she couldn't find Lestrange. He probably left with her sister.
Sniffing sadly, she cut into the steak sitting in front of her furiously, even after it was cut.
"It's not the time of month," Snape whispered in her ear, sliding onto the bench next to her. His lanky, black hair was pulled behind his small, pale ear. The expression on his face was slightly concerned, though mostly indifferent.
"What?" she snapped, still sawing at the meat murderously. Her blue lips were pulled into a thin severe line.
Snape reached and stilled her hands before she cracked the plate.
"You told me to tell Lucius that you were being pissy because it's that time of month. He swallowed it being the idiot he is but I know that's not the reason." Severus' black eyes bore steadily into the side of her face, almost like they were trying to drill into her skin and reveal everything that was inside.
"And how do you know I'm not having my period? Why do guys always pretend that they are the masters of the universe and know exactly what a woman is feeling?"
"You used that excuse last week… and the week before. Either it's just me or you really seem to have an over active body." His waxy lips curled up into an amused sneer.
Narcissa's cheeks burned bright red and she threw herself fervently into the act of consuming the food on her plate at a rapid pace. Her crimson cheeks bulged out with the load and she had to take a sip of pumpkin juice to wash it all down. "Crap," she breathed. "I really wish they would serve something stronger."
"You're not getting out of it that easily," Snape said blatantly. "Now do you want to tell me what's wrong or should I leave you here to drown yourself in pumpkin juice?"
Drown. The word brought to mind a single image. Narcissa braced her quivering hands on the tub's rim and slowly lowered her naked body into the water. It rose up around her and cuddled her lovingly in its moist arms.
The dream she had had the other night. "He never loved you…" Lucius kissing another boy. Lucius strangling her. Lucius never loved her.
'It was all just a dream,' she told herself rationally, attempting to will herself out of the fear she had for her boyfriend.
'Was it?' a voice whispered back. 'He would've killed Tommy if Rider hadn't shown up. And you saw him…'
"NO!" Narcissa shouted firmly, slamming her hands down on the wooden table. The loud noise mixed with the harsh exclamation caused several students to jump out of their seats. One girl's face had gone pale white. Severus just sat there calmly, sipping on a goblet of pumpkin juice.
"No what?" he probed quietly, scooting closer to her.
Narcissa's head was hung low in embarrassment and grief, her pale blonde hair creating a veil with which to block out the world. A smooth hand slipped through the curtain and caressed her chin, slowly tilting it up.
Her hair fell back and Snape was staring at her kindly, a ghost of smile flickered across his face. "What's happened to you? What happened to the Narcissa I knew a week ago? She was strong, so confident. If something was pissing her off she didn't take it lying down. Now all I see is an empty shell, jumpy and teary eyed."
Lucius, Narcissa wanted to say. She wanted to say it so badly. But it felt like if she told someone all her fears and doubts then they would be real and everything would change. All she ever wanted was to find someone that she could marry and have children with. Was that what Lucius wanted? Or was he looking for something more, someone different…
"I just have a lot going on, that's all. I'm just tired." Exactly, tired. Of course that's all it is. The dreams are simply that… dreams. She told herself again. I'm simply over reacting. Yeah he beat Tommy up but that was a very good reason. And that time when I… He was probably just drunk, like he said. Simple mistake. It's not like Lestrange and Bellatrix have never done something stupid when they're drunk.
"Is that really it?" Snape asked and Narcissa couldn't decipher whether he was speaking of what she said or what she'd thought. This hadn't been the first she had gotten the impression Snape could read minds either.
"Yes," she replied, trying to keep herself as composed as possible. But then she saw Lucius whispering into some seventh year boy's ear. They smiled at each other and Lucius looked over at her. He grinned impishly, but she turned quickly away.
Snape looked over at Lucius then back at her. "If you're expecting a miracle from him, don't bother. He may seem all deep, mature, and mysterious but he's still the same fucked up teen we all are. There's nothing special about him."
Narcissa was about to reply but Snape cut her off. "I think you need to go and release some tension. How about some training down in the dungeons? No one's there this early in the evening."
For a second Narcissa thought it was the dumbest idea ever but all the pent up rage inside of her was making her whole body sick and weary so she nodded her head. "But this doesn't mean I'm telling you anything." And just to reinforce what she said she flicked Snape's beak-like nose, a hollow smile on her face.
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A/n: I actually wrote a story about the girl's vision. It's titled "Motherhood". If your interested check it out.
