Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series.

Punishing

A large empty manor was the most frightening thing in the world. The shadows were tall and dark, echoes of past words resonated through the air. Even with the springtime, the air seemed cold, lonely. Narcissa sat in the parlor looking into the empty fire grate.

It had been five days since Lucius had left. She knew little about her husband's mission. Somewhere in the Department of Mysteries, they were searching… for something, she wasn't sure what. Even Bellatrix, who usually boasted about her missions for days on end, had refused to give Narcissa any detailed information. So, Narcissa sat, all alone, waiting for her husband and sister to return. The five long days worried her. It shouldn't have taken them more than a few hours; five days suggested that something had gone wrong. There was only so much that good have gone right, she thought glumly.

But even as she watched the empty fire grate, flames sprung to life within it. As the green flames swirled, Bellatrix stepped out of the fireplace, not even bothering to brush off her robes. She looked disheveled and worn, her eyes weary and defeated. Narcissa feared the worst as her sister walked over to her with a slight limp.

"Bella," she chirped, jumping up to help her. "What's happened?"

Bellatrix pushed Narcissa's helpful hand away irritably, looking like she had not slept for days.

"Where's Lucius?"

Bellatrix opened her mouth as if to respond but then clapped her hand over it as her face adopted a strange grayish green tint. She swayed on the spot for a moment, her eyelids fluttering as though she might pass out.

"Bathroom," she grunted, hurrying past Narcissa.

Narcissa stood in the middle of the room for a moment, thinking that her sister might like to vomit in private. However, her maternal instincts soon overwhelmed her and Narcissa headed towards the bathroom, hoping Bellatrix had made it in time. The door was closed so Narcissa knocked.

"Are you ok, Bella?" she asked tentatively.

There was the awful sound of retching before Bellatrix snapped, "Of course. I just hurl for the hell of it."

Narcissa couldn't suppress a small smile; if Bellatrix was still maintaining her snarky personality, she wasn't all that unwell. Then again, Narcissa reasoned, her sister would probably greet Death with a sarcastic sneer.

"Do you want me to come in and help you?"

Though Narcissa didn't fancy the prospect of holding back her sister's hair while Bellatrix continued to get sick, thus endangering the cleanliness of her robes and person, she knew it was one of the many duties that came with being a sister.

"NO!" came the angry response.

Narcissa sighed as she leaned against the bathroom door. Bellatrix had been supplied with a copious amount of Black pride and hated being seen on the rare occasion that she was vulnerable, weak, and defeated. It was honorable, in many respects, Narcissa supposed, but just as equally, stupid.

Eventually no sound came from the bathroom but a feeble "scourgify" and then the sound of running water. Narcissa opened the door slowly, greeted by the rancid smell of vomit and the image of Bellatrix leaning over the sink, panting. Bellatrix looked up at Narcissa's reflection in the mirror. Her face was still very clammy, but Narcissa was pretty sure the remaining gauntness of Bellatrix's appearance was merely a leftover from Azkaban. Bellatrix glared as if to say, in not so many words, "Don't look at me like I'm about to die; I'm fine."

Narcissa sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. She watched in mild disgust as Bellatrix succumbed to a final bout of heaving, coughing up blood into the porcelain sink. Suddenly, Narcissa became even more thankful that Bellatrix had not thrown up in the parlor.

"How did this happen?" Narcissa sighed wearily.

Bellatrix turned around, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She shrugged.

Narcissa frowned. If Bellatrix had been tossed around in battle to the point of being physically sick, she could hardly imagine the severity of the fight. A sharp fear stabbed her as she wondered once more where her husband was. Narcissa pushed those thoughts to the back of her head- Lucius was fine, she told herself –and stared at her sister, demanding a coherent answer.

"You've got a little blood on your face…" Narcissa noted, gesturing to the corner of her mouth.

Bellatrix wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her robes with a soft "oh".

Narcissa folded her arms across her chest, demanding an explanation.

"The Order showed up," Bellatrix replied simply, as if this would explain everything.

Narcissa breathed out slowly. That hadn't been part of the plan. It had been a one man deal, Narcissa had been assured. Potter, and that was all. Surely a legion of the Dark Lord's finest Death Eaters could overtake a teenage boy without much fuss. But if there had been back up from the aurors… who knew what could have happened.

"Who was it then?"

Bellatrix frowned. "Who was what?"

"Who injured you?"

Bellatrix shook her head. "Punishment."

Narcissa stared at her sister in bemusement for a moment before she grimaced in realization. "The Dark Lord?"

Bellatrix nodded swiftly, her eyes swimming with tears. "We failed him, Cissy."

Narcissa felt her heart skip a beat. Lucius had been the head of the operation. If Bellatrix was punished so severely, how would the Dark Lord punish Lucius? Images of her husband writhing in pain swam through Narcissa's head; suddenly, she felt queasy herself.

"The Dark Lord…" Bellatrix began slowly, "was very angry. We were thwarted, and then, Dumbledore showed up. I was pinned to the ground as the Dark Lord fought him. And then, the Ministry arrived… but, the Dark Lord didn't leave me behind. He grabbed hold of me right before disapparating. He rescued me."

Narcissa tried to ignore the slavish sort of longing that resonated through Bella's voice.

"What about Lucius?"

Bellatrix seemed to have slipped into a daze. She snapped up with a start and then, once more, she shrugged.

Narcissa arched her eyebrows indignantly as Bellatrix strolled out of the bathroom as if the conversation ended there.

"Where is Lucius?" Narcissa continued angrily, storming after her sister.

Bellatrix made her way into the parlor once more, sitting herself in a lavish armchair, looking rather exhausted.

Narcissa bore her eyes into Bellatrix's, as if hoping to read her mind.

"I… don't really know," Bellatrix replied tiredly, "we were all separated after the battle."

Narcissa had the strong feeling that Bellatrix was withholding pertinent information.

"Bella, please; I've got to know… he's my husband."

Bellatrix sighed, and to Narcissa's surprise, seemed sympathetic, "I heard that he was caught… that, that he's in Azkaban."

Narcissa let out a small shriek. She looked at her sister for a long time, as if hoping she would correct herself. Narcissa felt her legs grow weak at the thought of her husband becoming the sick and twisted skeleton that her sister was upon escape. She sat down on the loveseat slowly. She was surprised when Bella reached over to place a reassuring hand on her knee.

"He won't be in there for long, Cissy," Bellatrix said quietly. "Soon the Dark Lord will take over Azkaban. We've broken out before, after all."

Narcissa smiled sadly at Bellatrix's gentle attempt at humor. She pushed the image of her husband wasting away in a jail cell out of her mind momentarily. There was no point being emotional in front of Bellatrix.

They sat in silence for a moment. Narcissa was trying to suppress a stream of anxious tears. She could only guess that her sister was reflecting upon the battle, unaffected as ever towards the suffering of others.

"Oh, I saw the filth," Bellatrix remarked nonchalantly, examining her wand.

Narcissa laughed in spite of herself, because that was such a broad description for people in Bellatrix's life.

"Which piece of filth?" Narcissa wondered.

Bellatrix laughed as well before sighing, "The mudblood's spawn."

Narcissa figured this meant Andromeda's daughter but didn't see any need to mention the name when Bellatrix was obviously out of sorts.

"I suppose it wasn't a pleasant encounter."

Bellatrix chuckled darkly, "I injured her… don't know how badly…"

Then Bellatrix became very solemn.

"I killed Sirius, Narcissa."

Narcissa felt her blood run cold. Suddenly, there was nothing humorous about the situation. She didn't know how to respond. Maybe she wasn't supposed to. The only thing she realized was that her sister was eyeing her curiously, gauging her reaction. But Narcissa couldn't help it. Sirius had once been a Black. Andromeda had once been a Black. Staring at Bellatrix, Narcissa was certain that it was only a matter of time before Andromeda met her retribution.

Shamefaced at her own sentiment, Narcissa was extremely grateful that Bellatrix could not read her mind. She would much rather Andromeda be nothing to her than dead. But Sirius was dead. And Narcissa knew that Bellatrix was anything but sorry. Admittedly, Narcissa knew that she shouldn't be sorry that Sirius was dead; but even so, he had been her cousin. It wasn't so much that he was dead, but that Bellatrix had killed him. Bellatrix had killed him, just like she had promised.

A terrible realization fought against her better judgment not to speak.

"Bella," she began in a hoarse whisper.

Bellatrix looked over at her, unblinking.

"He was the last one."

Bellatrix didn't seem to understand; Narcissa didn't want to be the one to explain it, either. But it had to be said.

"Bellatrix, Sirius was the last Black."

The room seemed to freeze with terror and hatred. Bellatrix's eyes went blank for a moment before flaming with anger. She shook her head fiercely and spoke slowly.

"Don't you dare say that, Narcissa. He was no Black."

Narcissa closed her eyes as she continued on.

"No, Bella; that's not what I mean. He was the last male. He was the only one left to pass on the name; however dirtied it might have become. There will be no more Blacks."

Bellatrix's lower lip trembled violently before she flared up, "How dare you. What right do you have to put that blame on me? Don't you dare say it was my fault; Sirius was dead before I killed him, DON'T YOU DARE SUGGEST THAT I ENDED THE BLACK TREE!"

Narcissa jumped up, her fists clenched. "That's not what I meant at all!" she yelled back.

The two sisters glared at each other, tears welling up in their eyes.

"I just meant…" Narcissa said softly, "That we are the last of the Blacks."

Bellatrix let out a pathetic whimper and Narcissa felt her resistance crumble, tears sliding down her face. She thought of her husband locked away in Azkaban. She saw Andromeda dead at the hands of her sister. She thought, numbly, that Sirius was already dead. She saw Bellatrix, cold and broken beyond repair. Narcissa screamed at the unfairness of it all.

She flung her arms around Bella's neck and cried into her shoulder. She didn't care that Bellatrix stood stiffly without returning the embrace. She only wanted to hold onto her sister, because Bellatrix would always be a Black.

"Why should we be punished?" Narcissa sniffed. "We're only upholding the pride of our family."

But Narcissa knew that they weren't the only ones punished. Sirius had obviously been, in Azkaban and in death. Andromeda surely was, and would continue to be if Bellatrix had any say in the matter. All of the Blacks were punished.

Narcissa clung to her sister's robes and cried.

She felt Bellatrix's deep, concentrated breathing.

"The time will come when our punishment ends," Bellatrix declared quietly, her voice firm and unwavering, "We will have our glory."

But Narcissa cried even harder into her sister's robes. She feared that, for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, that time had already passed.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading; reviews are appreciated beyond belief! The next chapter should be up soon and I'm really excited for it. I figured seven was a pretty powerful magical number... and thus, chapter seven deserves to be awesome!