Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series.
Hiding
Narcissa woke with a yawn and, upon doing so, was surprised to realize that she had finally managed a decent night's sleep. Decent, as could be defined in a house playing hostess to the Dark Lord and his minions, she admitted. Still, a well-rested Narcissa was hope that she might survive the day without testing her emotional vulnerability to tears or shouts of anger at an unsuspecting and mostly undeserving Bellatrix.
As she rolled to face the other side of her bed, Narcissa remembered that Lucius had left early for the Ministry. If it wasn't the Dark Lord, it was the Minister. With a disgruntled sigh, Narcissa longed for the war's end when she might finally have her husband to herself.
The thought kept Narcissa beneath the covers, smiling a moment longer into her pillow, until the hope began to fade. With prior experience telling Narcissa that war would not end just as quickly as she wanted, the proprietress of Malfoy Manor left the warmth of sheets to face the bristling cold January morning.
Having dressed and groomed, Narcissa tiptoed past Bella's room, paused, then decided to give her sister another hour's sleep. Besides, with Bella still asleep, Narcissa might eat breakfast in something near contentment rather than having to worry over the damages of Azkaban as inflicted upon her sister. It was a selfish thought, but there it was.
And, of course, there was Bella. She startled Narcissa as she entered the morning room. But this time Narcissa's shock was not at seeing Bellatrix's woebegone appearance. No, Bella looked almost tidy, if Narcissa squinted. What surprised Narcissa was her sister's occupation. Bellatrix sat on the edge of the chaise longue, reading the Daily Prophet, sipping a cup of tea, a piece of toast dangling between her fingers, as though she was a perfectly normal witch who hadn't spent the past fourteen plus years in prison.
"Morning, Cissy," Bella said without looking up from the Prophet.
"Bella, I'm surprised you're up so early."
Over the top of the paper, Bella's eyebrow raised. She took a bite of toast, swallowed.
"I heard Lucius leave this morning."
"Oh," Narcissa said. She tried to gauge her sister's tone. "Sorry if he woke you."
Bella, however, was too engaged in the paper to register manners.
As though she felt Narcissa's curious stare, Bellatrix looked up from the text.
"I see the Ministry's still keen to smother any good story from the Prophet," Bella laughed. "Two days late."
Bellatrix tossed the paper to Narcissa.
Narcissa read, "'Mass Azkaban Breakout'- Bella, you were reading about yourself?"
"It entertained me."
"Ego," Narcissa mumbled.
Bellatrix took the comment in stride as only Bellatrix did, with retaliation. "Hypocrite."
Narcissa made a small noise under her breath as she scanned the front page.
"Oh, Bella," Narcissa winced, "lovely picture."
Though Narcissa felt sure the image of her sister, chained and screaming, would haunt her later, Bella sat across from Narcissa at present. So, for now, Narcissa would ignore the photo's implications.
"We can't all be such paragons of delicacy as you, Narcissa," Bellatrix said lightly.
"It appears you can't even try."
Bella grinned, and her Azkaban speckled teeth were as much as an agreement.
As Bellatrix reclaimed the paper and continued to read, Narcissa saw an opportunity to take advantage of Bella's state of engrossment. Narcissa stood from her original seat, pretended a yawn, then quietly sat herself next to Bella. Bellatrix's hair was an absolute mess, and if Bellatrix wouldn't do anything to fix it, surely Narcissa ought to mend the damage?
"What are you doing?" Bellatrix asked.
Narcissa's fingers closed around the strand of Bella's hair they had chosen to rescue.
"Taking care of you," Narcissa insisted. "This is not optional, Bella."
Bella craned her neck sideways as if to judge the strength of Narcissa's hold.
"It's hair. I'm not letting go."
Bellatrix shot Narcissa a look. "I don't like being taken care of."
Narcissa huffed but, not wanting to ruin such a promising beginning to a day, released the strand of Bella's hair.
"You know, for someone so proud, you lack a decent dose of vanity," Narcissa sighed.
Bella clicked her tongue.
Narcissa rolled her eyes and left her sister's side.
"No one will ever want to shag you if you look like the bad hair day of a banshee's cousin."
Bellatrix said something under her breath that Narcissa knew better than to interpret.
The house-elf then appeared, scurrying into the room with such a fearful look that Narcissa knew it brought displeasing news.
"Yes?" Narcissa demanded. She had no time for the trifling confessions of less than satisfactory servants.
The house-elf squeaked, "Mistress must forgive Squeaky for interrupting breakfast with Mistress's sister-"
The house-elf glanced at Bellatrix, flinched, then returned to stare its Narcissa's feet.
"As it is, you haven't yet brought me breakfast," Narcissa noted severely.
"Squeaky was punishing herself," the house-elf mumbled.
At this, Narcissa glanced at Bellatrix, upon whom a smug expression rested. Narcissa wondered briefly what small misdemeanor the elf had committed to endure Bellatrix's eager wrath.
"Then, in the future I suggest you avoid displeasing my sister so that your punishments do not interfere with your duties," Narcissa said.
"Yes, Mistress. Squeaky only came to announce a man at the south entrance gate." The elf paused, looked up anxiously at Narcissa, then added, "From the Ministry."
Narcissa's breath caught in her throat; she felt the blood drain from her face.
"I will see him directly," Narcissa spoke in a flat response.
The house-elf hurried away to convey the message. Narcissa's mind began to swirl with negative possibilities, but she pushed away these thoughts to devise an immediate plan.
"Bella." She turned to her sister who, much to Narcissa distress but not surprise, looked elated at the prospect of welcoming a Ministry official into Malfoy Manor. "The dungeons. Hide in the dungeons."
Bellatrix made a face. "Narcissa, I'm not going to hide-"
"Now, Bellatrix."
"Cissy." Bellatrix stood, reclaimed her wand, and fixed Narcissa with a meaningful stare. "You'd deny me of just a little fun after so many years of nothing to do but count my split ends?"
"Yes," Narcissa snapped, ignoring the taunt. "Your version of fun is exactly why they put you away in the first place. Dungeons, Bella."
Narcissa did not wait for the rest of her sister's protests, but grabbed her wand and hurried to meet whatever nuisance waited at the south entrance gate.
She shivered as she walked outside, but thought it best to greet the unwanted guest herself. Still, there was no need to confuse manners with friendliness. Narcissa fixed the man on the other side of the towering iron gate with a cool expression.
"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," he said with a crisp voice of professional.
"I trust you have identification."
The man produced the information readily.
Narcissa examined the badge without interest; she knew already his purpose. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"
He nodded. "I'm here, Mrs. Malfoy, as I'm sure you have guessed, on the matter of your sister."
Narcissa parted her lips in what she hoped appeared confusion. "My sister?" she asked, "Has something happened to Andromeda?"
The Ministry official hesitated, scrutinized Narcissa, "No, your other sister," he said slowly.
"But Bellatrix is in Azkaban," Narcissa insisted.
"Not anymore," the man grunted.
"My sister escaped? Well, you certainly seem to have quite the difficulty keeping my family in prison," Narcissa taunted. At any other moment she would not have made such a joke, but Bella was in the house, and Narcissa was nervous and more exhilarated than she should have been.
The Ministry official, apparently not amused, cleared his throat. "Mrs. Malfoy, I would hope you take a visit from the Ministry as more than a joke."
"You mean a raid," Narcissa said coolly, leveling the man with an icy stare.
"Ah, in less delicate terms, yes."
Narcissa nodded tersely. "Yes, I'm quite accustomed to visits from our Ministry. It seems our government has an unusual way of thanking her most generous patrons."
The Ministry official returned Narcissa's forced smile with an awkward laugh.
"We aren't anything less than grateful," he said quickly. "It's just that Bellatrix Lestrange is an escaped convict notorious of, uh, cruelty, and you are her sister."
"I hardly think you need to lecture me on matters of my own family. Furthermore, I'm perfectly aware of how the situation incriminates me," Narcissa said. Then, thinking she had given Bellatrix more than enough time to hide properly, added, "But come inside, of course. I'm hiding nothing."
Narcissa led the Ministry official up the snow covered walk to the door.
"My husband," Narcissa said as they came inside, "would have greeted you himself. But he is ironically meeting with the Minister today."
"I'm sure you'll be just as helpful as your husband," the official said. His expression, however, suggested that he thought that level of help would be minimal.
"Of course. My only concern," Narcissa said, a smirk dancing behind her words, "is that you seem frightfully unprepared. If you really suspect that I am in fact harboring the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange, isn't it a bit foolish to search alone?"
A sudden unease glanced the man's face for a moment in which Narcissa took great delight.
"Things are tight at the Ministry, if you really must know."
"Ah."
The official held his wand at his side as he searched around the entrance hall. "Yes, your sister and her friends have caused quite the inconvenience."
She had a nagging feeling that Bella was not hiding in the dungeons as ordered, so Narcissa remarked loudly, "Bellatrix always was good at causing one inconveniences."
Narcissa received a calculating look from the official.
"Shall we proceed?" Narcissa prompted with a wave of her hand.
As she guided the Ministry official through the manor, Narcissa worried that behind any corner or curtain she might find Bellatrix, hungry for a duel. The Ministry official remained close to Narcissa, and she was aware suddenly of her role as a human shield.
"You'll excuse me once more," Narcissa said as the man's eyes peeked over her shoulder, "but if Bellatrix has escaped from Azkaban after so many years of imprisonment for torture and murder, what makes you think she'll for a moment hesitate to attack me to get to you?"
The official straightened, clearly affronted.
As to disprove Narcissa's theory, he walked ahead of her. To Narcissa's horror, his hand closed around the doorknob to Bellatrix's room. The Ministry official entered before Narcissa could think of a means of distraction. Narcissa held her breath as he examined the contents.
The bed was unmade, the fire smoldered, and Narcissa wondered why she continued to use house-elves if they wouldn't even do their jobs.
The Ministry official paused to examine the nightgown he found at the end of the bed.
"Mine," Narcissa said before he could even ask.
"Do you normally sleep in this room?" the man asked suspiciously.
"I don't think I understand."
"Is this the master bedroom, Mrs. Malfoy?"
He knows, Narcissa thought. Suddenly it was as if Bellatrix herself was in the room with them. Narcissa fumbled inwardly to misguide the search.
"I think that's entirely too personal of a question," Narcissa snapped.
She needed to find Bella to make sure the Ministry official could not find Bella. And Narcissa felt that Bellatrix was much closer than desired.
"Forgive me, I just-"
"We use this bedroom in the winter," Narcissa found herself lying. "It heats much better than the master suite."
"Is that typical of these old homes?"
Narcissa sniffed. "Yes. Very typical."
"It's also typical, I think, for manors such as this to have dungeons. I think that's the last place to check."
"Dungeons?" Narcissa scoffed. "That's horribly medieval. No, we have no dungeons. Our manor is old; it is not outdated."
Narcissa took the official's moment of uncertainty to lead him from Bella's room. They walked into the foyer, and Narcissa had a distinctive feeling of being watched.
"That will be all for today, then," Narcissa decided.
"No sign of your sister," the Ministry official admitted. "But I did notice several items which could present your family in a less than favorable light if presented to the Department of-"
"I think you'll find," Narcissa interrupted, "that those items have all been registered in the Magical Historical Society as family heirlooms and nothing more."
It was a lie, and a risky one at that, but Narcissa had no idea what sort of items the Death Eaters might have left scattered about the Manor. Besides, Narcissa's knowledge of her sister told her that Bellatrix would soon grow restless in hiding. It was time for the Ministry's eyes to leave the premises.
"I'm sure," the Ministry official replied, not as convinced as he might have been.
And then Narcissa heard it, the slightest footstep at the end of the dark hall.
The Ministry official, however, continued obliviously, "If you have any information regarding the location of your sister, I must impress that you are under the law's obligation to report these whereabouts to the Ministry."
"Well," Narcissa stalled, "I suppose I would first look-"
"Right behind you," Bellatrix said.
The Ministry official turned swiftly and withdrew his wand in the process. But Bellatrix, who had snuck from the shadows behind, had already raised her wand to attack.
"Avada Kedavra," she snarled.
The Ministry official dropped at Narcissa's feet, but she was aware only of Bellatrix's wand which still pointed at the former standing place of her target.
Narcissa looked at Bellatrix, but saw only the image on the front of the morning's paper, her sister, chained and screaming, a madwoman.
"Bella." It came out as a squeak.
"He knew," Bellatrix said as means of explanation. "He knew I was in this house. He was just luring you into false security until he returned with enough Aurors for a proper raid."
A proper raid would have ruined the Malfoy's last feeble pretense of loyalty to the Ministry of Magic, Narcissa told herself. But Narcissa knew she was just making excuses for her sister.
Bellatrix was forty-five. Excuses were no longer enough.
"Don't look at me like that."
Narcissa didn't notice she had been staring.
She tried to focus on the woman before her who stood over a dead body as though nothing was at her feet. But the image from Azkaban, the fifteen missing years, distorted Narcissa's sight of her sister. And in that grotesque distortion, everything was clear.
"You're a child, Bellatrix."
A scoff, then, "You were playing games with him, too."
"Bellatrix," Narcissa seethed, "attacking a Ministry officer you might have mended with memory modification. But killing him? How do you propose to explain this?"
"Come, come, Cissy. Surely you can buy your way out of an ittle bitty murder?" Bella countered.
"And what point, exactly, are you trying to make now, sister dearest?" Narcissa demanded as Bellatrix walked from the room. "You know, by my accounts, you've been a rather ungrateful houseguest."
Bellatrix stopped, turned around slowly, glared.
"That's what I am now? A houseguest?"
Narcissa felt her resolve slipping as Bellatrix, insulted, stepped over the dead body to face Narcissa.
"Don't split hairs, Bella."
"No, no, because, by my accounts, you've been a rather unwelcoming hostess."
She jabbed her finger into Narcissa's collarbone. Narcissa snatched Bellatrix's too thin wrist.
"Forgive me if I don't enjoy submitting my home as headquarters to the war effort."
Bellatrix struggled for a moment, then wrestled her arm from Narcissa's grip.
She spat, "The war was in your manor before I entered, Narcissa. Don't change the subject. You think I don't notice your pitying stares, the way you wrinkle your nose at my appearance, your startled wincing when I walk into a room?"
Narcissa paled, the accusation hitting her unexpectedly.
"You've changed, that's all."
"I'm fifteen years older than the last time you saw me, yes. But that is all. Don't make excuses, Cissy."
"No excuses, fine. Here it is, Bella. Here's your so coveted truth. I waited fifteen years to see my sister. I was scared and I didn't know what to do without you. I had to watch our world crumble without you. I missed you. You dare mock the sincerity of my hospitality? Lucius and I are risking our lives to harbor the likes of you. I would do nothing less for my sister, but this? This is poor repayment."
"Had I known it would have upset you so, I would have acted differently."
Bellatrix examined her wand, glanced at the dead Ministry official, then examined Narcissa with a curious stare.
"You'd never seen me kill before."
Narcissa shook her head and fought the urge of tears that swelled behind her eyes.
"Get him out of my foyer, Bella," Narcissa said. Her voice wavered and she knew she was breaking.
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"No," Bellatrix repeated.
Narcissa gawked. Even for Bellatrix, this was stubborn beyond ridiculous.
"You made this mess, Bellatrix."
Bellatrix sneered into her little sister's face. Her eyes glimmered maliciously.
"You allowed this mess to enter your house."
"And I could just as easily expel all unwanted messes from my house," Narcissa shot.
"Want to send me back to Azkaban so soon, hmm?"
Bella didn't smile. She lodged her foot underneath the dead man's stomach and nudged him so that the corpse flipped onto its back, vacant eyes fixed upon Narcissa.
"Face the war, Narcissa. She's going to be here a little while longer."
Narcissa remained silent, allowed Bellatrix a much needed victory.
Author's Note: I just love writing post-Azkaban Bellatrix and her mood swings. As always, thank you so much for your reads/alerts/favorites/reviews! I shall return to school in an unfortunately short time. However, I hope to update at least twice more before things get crazy!