"Don't look at me like that," Narcissa barked at her oldest sister.
"I don't see why," Bellatrix grunted from behind clenched teeth, "that display was necessary."
Narcissa ran a long, manicured finger over the coffee table ledge. There was a time when Bella understood her, when Bella was just Bella and not Bellatrix. A time when she would have known why her little sister had to go to Spinner's End that night. But then again, during that time so long ago, of which she reminisced, she wouldn't have had the need to approach Severus. There was a major difference between then and now, and his name was Draco Malfoy.
"You wouldn't," Narcissa hissed.
"I don't see why it was necessary to go there in the first place."
"I believe I already articulated this to you."
"But really, Narcissa. Why, if I had sons–"
"Yes, of course," Narcissa laughed incredulously, "if you had sons, you would sacrifice the whole lot to the Dark Lord!" Her mocking tone erred on mania. "Why, if you had sons," she continued, "you would kill them off with your own bare hands for practice to better serve the Dark Lord!" Her voice darkened. "Perhaps, Bellatrix, that is why you do not have sons. And perhaps, if you had, you might find your mind changed ever so slightly."
Bellatrix' dark eyes blazed with an angry passion. "Do not take His name in vain!"
"Oh Bella," Narcissa sighed. "Oh, Bella, what have you become?" She reached out to touch her sister–a careful, affectionate gesture–but Bellatrix pulled away as though she had been scorched.
"I've become more than you could ever wish to be," she spat. "He says I'm his most loyal follower, you know."
"To how many of his followers do you think he tells the same thing?" Narcissa asked quietly. Despite her efforts, it incensed her sister.
"NONE!" Bellatrix screamed, rising from her chair. "HE LOVES ME, HE TOLD ME SO!" She flipped over a table and sent two glass vases tumbling toward the floor. They shattered with an elegant crash, and Narcissa winced. Once she'd stopped screaming, she stood shaking. "And that's why," she breathed more quietly, "I cannot betray him in this... this wanton manner."
"Wanton?" Narcissa raised an eyebrow and muttered a quick cleaning charm. "I was unaware that you, a Black woman, considered family loyalty wanton."
"Oh, please, you're starting to sound like Andromeda."
"I'm certain that in my place, Andromeda would have done the same."
"Andromeda's a blood-traitor," Bellatrix stated plainly, no intonation in her voice. She inhaled sharply. "But if that's what you want to be, then go ahead, save your little brat."
"Bella, don't..."
"Go on! Defy the Dark Lord for your unappreciative, unworthy, spoiled-rotten son."
"Don't you see, Bellatrix? I would defy Salazar Slytherin himself, if it were to save my son! There is nothing I wouldn't do for him." Bellatrix looked away scathingly. "Bella, look at me! There are more... important... things..."
"No!" Bellatrix snapped. "There is nothing more important than the Dark Lord!"
Narcissa, seeing there was nothing she could say, looked at her sister sadly. Nothing would remedy her deep misunderstandings; it was too late. She lost her sister long ago. Her sister who would never know what it was to feel life in her womb, to hold a child to her breast, to watch it grow and put herself second to it at any cost–even that of death. Explaining something like that to Bella would be like describing the phenomenon of sight to a blind man. She simply couldn't.
"There, Bella, is where we differ."
"You..." Bellatrix whispered, but Narcissa could tell she wasn't all there. But there wasn't the distant sparkle in her eye when she thought of her Master. Her eyes were blank; Narcissa had seen them the same way when Andromeda announced she was marrying that mudblood.
A dark silence enveloped the night, and they sat that way until the sun rose. It was the first time Narcissa finally realized that Bellatrix didn't know her at all, not anymore.