Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series.
Note: This takes place after the Dark Lord arrives at Malfoy Manor only to find that Harry again escaped. Thus, the residents of Malfoy Manor must be tortured.
Self-Inflicting
The silence of the room was an oppressive barrier that prevented the occupants from leaving while simultaneously filling them with terror. Narcissa was huddled over Draco, as if her mere proximity might protect them both from further punishment. Once she would have looked to her sister for protection. But not in this case. Now Narcissa feared the worst kind of retribution, and Bellatrix was a glutton for torture. As Draco stared at his mother in silent panic, Narcissa saw her husband out of the corner of her eye and longed to run to him.
He stood in the center of the room, back to back with Bellatrix. Neither slouched and neither fidgeted even after successive rounds of torture. The Dark Lord circled around them, wand in hand, seemingly unsatisfied with the punishment he had just instituted.
"You called yourselves my most skilled, most faithful servants," the Dark Lord finally said quietly, knives piercing every word.
Lucius fell back into the shadows, standing away from his wife and son as if his proximity would cause them additional torment. Bellatrix, likewise, stood still no longer but fell at the knees of her master. "My l-lord, we are, I am, my lord," she said quickly, clinging to his robes like a child.
"I am afraid, Bella," the Dark Lord said, his voice conflicted between distaste and twisted amusement as Bellatrix gazed longingly, "that that did not pain you quite as much as it needed to. But no matter, there is no need to rush as we watch to see just how far your fragile mind can bend before it breaks…"
Unexpected fury flew through Narcissa. It was because of him that Narcissa saw Bellatrix in such a mental state of incapacity. Bella had always been zealous, if not irrational. But never had Bella been so possessed. Bellatrix had neverbeen controlled before the day that disgusting tattoo had been burnt into her patrician flesh. Now, though, Bellatrix was no better than a slave and Narcissa thought her, for once, very hypocritical.
Her face was gleaming with cold sweat and her eyes feverish after the grueling round of torture. And it, torture, did something strange to her. Narcissa noted it just as the Dark Lord obviously had. Bella was not defeated but rather seemed honored that such powerful magic from her master had seconds ago been coursing through her every limb, throwing her into fits of sidesplitting pain. Torture, whether inflicted or received, afforded Bella the chance to escape humanity. For the time that it lasted (and Bella always made sure that it did last for some time), Bellatrix was not mortal. But now, the Cruciatus Curse having been lifted, she pushed a shaking hand through her matted black hair and sputtered, "W-what do you mean, Master? Surely you can not think me weak?!"
The childish cry was ignored with a wave of a long, spidery hand. "There is still, however," and the Dark Lord paused, his eyes scanning the room until they rested, to her revulsion, on Narcissa, "the matter of your sister."
Narcissawould not give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of trembling in fear but rather glared fiercely at her sister, needing more than anything, a last ray of hope.
Bellatrix, however, did not respond; still clinging to every word that fell from the Dark Lord's thin lips that were now curled into an emotionless smile.
"I'm sure, as the youngest, she has always learned from you. It would not do to break tradition," he hissed into Bella's ear.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said in a hoarse whisper, "But I don't understand what you want-"
"Do not lie to me, Bella. You know exactly what I ask of you," the Dark Lord snarled impatiently. "Torture your sister, and see that she learns from your mistakes."
Narcissa's flicker of hope died like a tiny candle in the middle of a thunderstorm. She was numb, and cold, and wax, waiting suddenly, to be burnt to the ground by a flash of lightning.
"But…" Bellatrix mumbled, her face suddenly flushed, "I do not have my wand, My Lord."
Bellatrix had not begged for an explanation. She had not tried to dissuade the idea; in fact, she had barely protested. The thing that worried Bella the most was the shame in losing her wand. Narcissa wished her head would stop spinning with worry for her husband and son so she might feel something towards her sister. Something dark, something brooding, Narcissa wanted to feel hate. Instead, all she felt was the violent urge to be sick. Narcissa had never been so hurt in her life.
The Dark Lord's eyes flashed in red-hot rage for a moment before he replied, "Then you are quite lucky, Bella, that this mudblood so willingly donated his wand for our Cause." Bellatrix caught the wand that was throne at her with a sudden urgency. Wrapping her pale fingers around the stick, she stared at it, humiliated. Narcissa knew her sister would obey her master to render the humiliation.
"Bella," Narcissa whispered. She was not trying to call her sister's attention but rather, she wanted to hold the memory of what her sister had once been as a protection. She feared that she might never look at her sister the same way again.
But Bellatrix had heard the feeble cry and she faltered, even as her wand was raised.
Suddenly, Bella did not look forty-seven. She was a child again, vulnerable and afraid. But only on the inside, of course. On the outside, Bellatrix had always been tough and extraordinarily determined. Narcissa remembered her no other way. But she could feel her sister's weakness, just as she knew Bellatrix was detecting hers.
Just torture me, Bella, Narcissa thought. Somehow, in seeing Bella's hesitation, the idea of being punished by her was even more painful. And then, a sick, curious part of her wondered what it'd be like. Certainly, Bellatrix bragged and people cowered. Narcissa had even had the unpleasant experiences of watching her sister use the Cruciatus Curse. But never had Narcissa been subjected to it herself. And a small part of her wondered…
Finally, as though urged on by the invisible thoughts of her sister, Bellatrix pointed her wand directly at Narcissa. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Narcissa was dumbfounded. Bellatrix could not be hesitating. It was driving the room into waiting insanity. Narcissa only saw her husband and son who, somehow, she knew would die if she was not tortured properly. Bellatrix was only torturing herself, as the Dark Lord had planned, by delaying the fact. Narcissa could not stand it any longer; she needed the pain, to escape.
Crucio, crucio, crucio.She needed Bellatrix to start before Narcissa lost her feeble ray of bravery and screamed to be forgiven for her failure.
Bellatrix breathed in a staggered breath and said in an unwavering, emotionless voice, "Crucio."
Narcissa flew backwards with the jet of light, hitting the ground painfully. She felt her body crunch unnaturally. All strength was sucked out of her but she felt strangely numb. She realized the curse had lifted the moment Bella must have seen Narcissa inflicted by her own magic.
"Ah… dear Bella. Could it be that you willingly defy your master?" the Dark Lord hissed. He was standing behind Bellatrix, but his voice carried throughout the room, hanging eerily until a twisted smirk formed on his face. "But I think… yes. It seems quite possible that Bellatrix Lestrange can still love…"
Bella was frozen, her face hid no vulnerability. She was terrified. But, worse than that, even Narcissa couldn't deny it, Bellatrix was conflicted. The Dark Lord circled around until he stared into Bella's face.
"Such weakness," he snarled. He brought his wand down in a slash and Bellatrix fell to her knees, clutching her face.
"Master!" Bella whimpered, gazing imploringly up at him. "I tried… but I… I c-can't…"
Narcissa stared at her sister and the helplessness she saw terrified her.
"Can't you, Bella?" the Dark Lord asked quietly. "You mean you can't obey your Master because of love?"
Bellatrix shook her head quickly, but Narcissa was sure she saw tears seeping from those dark eyes. For some reason, Bella's tears made Narcissa's eyes dry as dirt. Even as Bellatrix rose shakily to point a quivering wand at Narcissa once more, Narcissa couldn't fear her sister.
"C-crucio," Bellatrix choked. It was barely enough to cause Narcissa's body to spasm for more than a few seconds.
"Bella!" the Dark Lord snapped in angry disappointment, "Mean it! Your sister is part of your failure and she must pay for her sins as well as yours."
But Bella had broken. Narcissa realized it with great fear; not for herself, but for her sister.
"Crucio…" Bella muttered, but her anger came from frustration, not hate and thus Narcissa felt a lightening jolt of pain and then nothing. And then Narcissaknew what she had to do. To save her sister.
"Pathetic… is this your womanly solicitude finally shining through, dear Bella? Do you love your worthless sister so much?" the Dark Lord demanded.
And Narcissa saw her opportunity, she laughed. It was a wild and desperate cackle of a laugh. "But I don't!" she shouted cruelly, "I am not so weak, my lord. I do not love my sister. Yes! I hate you Bella."
The words she did not mean tore Narcissa's aching throat, but she continued, avoiding her sister's face. "That's right! I'm ashamed of you. You're supposed to be the best but you have fallen. Time after time you fail, Bellatrix! I can't even count how many times you've let the Cause down, let me down! You can't lean on the crutch of your time in Azkaban forever; realize that you are pathetic either way. You disgraced the name of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black when you grovel in excuses. Don't think you're still standing, Bella! You're not. You've fallen! Just like Regulus; useless. You thought you killed Sirius, but he beat you because you ended the Blacks when you killed him. It's all your fault and you can't change that, ever!" Narcissa didn't know where the words came from; she only knew that there was nothing stopping them. Finally, she laughed again, softer but more cutting, "Bella. You're worse than Andromeda."
And with the screaming silence that followed Narcissa's words, she knew that she had succeeded. Bellatrix was livid and posed to explode.
"Shut up, Narcissa!" Bella finally hissed, "Don't you… you selfish, whiny bitch! How dare you-"
"How dare I what?!" Narcissa roared. "How dare I tell the truth? Does it scare you, Bella? Are you afraid to face your own weaknesses?"
And she was. She always had been. Narcissa just didn't know it for sure until Bellatrix raised her wand and cried, "CRUCIO!"
Bellatrix's scream was then lost in an unearthly howl of the worst pain Narcissa had ever felt. Blistering and scorching hot, the scene in front of her grew fuzzy until she could no longer see her monster of a sister but for blackness. Narcissadid not know where she was, but that she was trapped within her thrashing body. She clawed at the air above her and the floor below her; she knew if she could just leave her body she'd be fine.
She had never imagined that the physical pain would be accompanied by a feverish nightmare of memories. But as knives clawed at her back, causing Narcissa to constrict violently, she fell into a fever. Maybe it was because Bellatrix was her sister, but Narcissa felt as though she was feeling Bella's pain in addition to her own. Betrayal, lies, disloyalty, hate. Regulus dead. Sirius killed. Andromeda…
Narcissa was no longer sobbing profusely; she was silent, her throat finished. Since there was no outlet for her suffering, Narcissa strained to open her eyes. She wanted to see Bellatrix, to spit at her sister, to claw at her, to make Bellatrix realize just how much she was hurting her. She wanted to hate Bellatrix. But she couldn't, because, where there was Bellatrix, there would always be Bella.
Bella. Narcissa clung to the hope even as her nails scraped the smooth floor, pounding and ripping at her own hair for the pain. Bella Meda Cissy. Narcissa felt, rather than imagined, the day she caught Andromeda packing and knowing too surely what that meant. This is why nobody can love you, Bella, Narcissa wanted to scream,because you hurt anybody who tries to. This is why Meda left.Narcissa was rocking back and forth with the curse, her mind falling towards madness. She clung to the only sanity she had, the past. Bella Meda Cissy. They had been the untouchable triad of everything. Had been, gone, finished, fallen. Now it was Bella Cissy. And this is where it had brought them.
The curse was lifted. But Narcissa did not rise for fear that any movement would cause her to vomit.
Then from somewhere amongst a cloud of insanity a tiny voice whimpered, "Cissy."
Narcissa felt more pain in that one cry than she had by the Cruciatus Curse.
"Look at how your failure destroys your family, Bella," she finally heard the Dark Lord say before he walked from the room.
Narcissa could not stand for the aching pain of her body. Somehow, she managed to pull herself across the floor to meet Draco. He made no noise as Narcissa brushed away the blond hair from her son's face. Bellatrix, however, was sobbing loudly at the opposite end of the room. Alone in a crumpled heap, she looked pathetic.
Narcissa pushed herself off the ground with shaking arms. She would be strong because Bellatrix had nothing left. She had to comfort the broken woman. Bellatrix was her sister, no matter what. Narcissa found herself weeping into the shoulder of her punisher, only to realize that Bellatrix was just as punished by the torture, if not more. There was no escaping the pain.
They had brought this upon themselves.
Author's Note: Again and again and again, I'm so sorry for the really delayed update. This was probably a stretch of the imagination, but as always, raging plot bunnies and interesting character studies are hard to resist. (I'm also not entirely sure that it made sense...) If you were looking for something more light-hearted, I just wrote a spin-off of last chapter called Bella's Lullaby strictly for humorous purposes... As always, your reviews are appreciated beyond belief. I will work really hard to update on time this week!