Chapter 5: No Blooming Flowers
The first morning, after my torture, I woke up and felt like I had not dreamt, and although it was a relief to escape my nightmares, I wished I could dream. I wanted to dream about flying through the skies, being a merman and swimming and breathing through the Great Lake, relishing in the soothing cold waters. I wanted to escape. Sometimes, I pictured myself swimming through the Milky Way, doing backstrokes among the stars. I would be able to breathe, I would be able to laugh and I would be completely free from the chains that held me here…in this empty bed, in our tainted Manor, oozing with the prospect of dread and torture around every corner. The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters vanished often, sometimes we even had the house to ourselves for two complete days…but they would always return, without warning, without asking.
Severus had accepted his reward, the Death Eaters had hooted with joviality, and I caught myself staring suspiciously at Severus, and noticing to my relief, that he looked at Evelyn darkly, a hint of a scowl…even if it was quickly replaced by detachment, it was enough. I walked through the months like a corpse, dead…an inferi. I was capable of human movements. I was human, on the outside. I blinked, I talked, I breathed, I knew my heart beat but I also knew I was heartless…and I obeyed, just like the Dark Lord knew I would, after my torture. Inside, I felt empty.
The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters had not invaded our home in three consecutive days. When I entered the drawing room, disquiet and rage filled me when I saw Evelyn standing over mother, who was staring out the window blankly.
'Ah, good morning, Draco…'
'What are you doing here?' I snapped.
'Touché…the Dark Lord asked me to pop in, as it were, because he's got some good news for you.'
'Good news?' I asked hollowly.
She smiled at me, a smile that did not reach her childlike eyes.
'It's good to see that you have done something about your hair and attire, Narcissa. This sapphire silk robe is simply gorgeous.' Evelyn said richly, and I noticed that she looked impeccable, as usual. She was wearing a scarlet silk robe, with her usual blood red lips. Contrasted with her shock of black hair that ran down her back like a lion's mane, it was hard to rip my gaze away. The fact that she was devastatingly beautiful and nauseatingly vicious was an unfortunate mix. Mother craned her head away from the window, slowly, and rested her eyes on Evelyn.
'What is the good news the Dark Lord wishes me to know?' she did not snarl, nor ask kindly.
'Lucius has escaped Azkaban, and right now, he is with the Dark Lord.' Evelyn strutted around as if she owned the Manor, then she sat in a chair, and rested her legs on the table. 'Lucius! Oh, thank Merlin. Oh! When can I see him, when? When?' Mother had thrown her chair out the way, animation written on her face. She looked alive again. I felt somehow more whole and less empty. Father was free. I hardly dared believed it…but I had been so furious, so upset, that he had been imprisoned, and now he was back, he was really back, and I felt my heart leap for joy and a darkness inside me lift.
'Later, I suppose.' Evelyn replied indifferently. 'He is with the Dark Lord at the moment, and he will return home when the Dark Lord is finished with him.' she said with a grin increasing on her face. A grin she did not even try to suppress, and with a sickening feeling, I knew that father was being punished, being tortured, for failing to retrieve the prophecy.
'No! Not punished. Draco already suffered, not him too…please no! Just tell me where he is; I need to see him, now!' Mother shrieked, seizing Evelyn's scarlet red robes in her shaking hands. Evelyn clutched the hands in hers and looked at them, and her grin slipped. Disgust seized her face and she threw mother off her. 'I see your hands are still unkempt. Do not dare touch my hands with your filthy ones. Black smudges, Narcissa? Tut, tut. I must return now, and you and your son will wait here, for your husbands return.' Evelyn said each word slowly, delicately. My happiness had vanished; I was left feeling sick and worried. She disapparated and against my will, I remembered the torture. The twitching and the shuddering, the burning blaze searing through your body and stabbing you, pain beyond comprehension and imagination. Father would squirm on the ground, before that monster, the Dark Lord's feet. Mother was crying, and I could not stand here, watching her rock forward slightly, nor could I stand to hear the gasps and cries, or watch tears swim in her eyes and fall down her face. Her grief intensified mine, and words of comfort for her escaped me. Standing here threatened tears of my own to roll down my face and I could not let myself cry again. I had to force myself to be stronger than that. I walked to my bedroom down the long and narrow hallway with a tangled mixture of feelings. I felt both thrilled that father had been released, and yet, foreboding still polluted me. Even the Dark Lords dearest Bellatrix had suffered the Crucio, but it was agony beyond agony. I stopped at the high arched door to mother and fathers bedroom and stared at the large green snake slithering from the door. The face was not hissing, or screwed up in a stereotypical snide snake face. Its expression was utterly calm and enchanting. The common perception about snakes being sneaky and crafty and cunning was true, just as the individuals who belonged in Slytherin were. But snakes were also beautiful and elegant. I turned the handle and gently pushed the door open, and I was welcomed by the large bedroom…its white walls only made the room seem ever bigger, more isolated, extending. Velvet black curtains framed another wall-sized window, and I peeked out, squinting, as my eyes adjusted to the blazing sunlight. It disheartened me to see absolute nothingness. I secretly missed, how at Hogwarts, when I stared out of a window, there was always swarms of people walking by. Of course, most of them were probably Mudbloods and blood traitors, I thought coldly. I sat down on their ornate bed, covered in fluffy cushions and lilac bed covers, I lay on my side, and looked at the wooden cabinet on the end wall. With a frown, I realised I had never opened it. Never peered inside. Father would have never let me snoop through their private things. A photograph of me hung over the cabinet on the wall. I was a mere toddler. Grinning, with many teeth missing. I had been a young and innocent child, with no idea that my life would come to this. I missed blissful naivety, but then I thought of Hogwarts again, as I softly raked my hands along the polished wood of the cabinet, and that familiar wave of nostalgia seemed to sprout from deep inside, almost from…my heart. And it ran like lava throughout my entire body, and I could smell the scent of the library, again. The smell of the lawns after being freshly mown. I missed the security, I missed the years of imprints the castle had ingrained within itself…I envisioned the enchanted ceiling again, falling leaves never reaching the ground, and my stomach twisted into a knot. Shaking my head, as if to shake out these annoying feelings, I breathed deeply, and then opened the cabinet and poked my head inside, only to find photo albums, old newspaper clippings…I dug around desperately, dimly wondering why I was doing this, wondering if I was looking for something…something bad? I picked up a simple green box, lifted the lid, and looked curiously at some letters, which were badly crinkled. Opening the first envelope, my eyes whooshed across very nearly and carefully written words…
Dear Narcissa,
Why? Why, after all of these years? You have been my sister only in blood, and never in meaning. You turned into a stranger, and now you write to me? If I were telling you this, face to face, I would be screaming these words at you, Narcissa. The last time I ever saw you, was at an intriguing dinner at Walburga's house. Surely, you remember? Walburga and dearest mother were blabbering on about needing to connect myself with someone of high pure blood ranking, like the golden child Bellatrix. Her name is poison to me. Yours wasn't poison to me, after that, not toxic…not lethal. Your name was, however, tormented. I felt sorry for you, I pitied you, but I still hated you. I still do…how can you write a letter, and expect…what do you expect? I told them about Ted, and they told me to leave…I left, and never returned. I never expected anything from Bellatrix, but I always hoped, really hoped that I would at least hear something from you.
I was foolish. I am after all, a blood traitor, right? So, now you have realised that you got yourself in too deep. Your son, the nephew I never got to meet, suffered his torture, did he? I have no sympathy for you. I have sympathy for the boy though, innocently thrown into a life he did not choose. You could have left with me. Do you know what? I always thought you were of two minds about the situation growing up. Druella, Walburga and Bellatrix were the most passionate about the cause, and after I went to Hogwarts, I saw how fake and patronizing they were…and blood purity…you know, if you only ever married pure-bloods, the gene pool would be too genetically close, and you'd start producing seriously nutty children, Narcissa. Maybe that's why Bella's so crazy, and maybe we got lucky. Mixing with half-bloods and Muggle-borns does not taint the blood, in fact, it makes the next generations stronger, as the gene pool is more diverse. Any person with half a brain knows this though, you lot are just bigoted. So you hated me, you all did…loathed me…I was no longer a Black, I was dead to you all, and why? Because I married a Muggle-born, but guess what? I gave birth to wonderful pink haired witch, you might have heard about. She's skilled, she's brilliant…she can change her appearance, and she's so lively…in what kind of world do sisters, that were as close as we were, have to be separated by prejudice? Cousins never knowing each other, such as Draco and Nymphadora, and cousin killing cousins. How did you feel knowing that Bellatrix so dismissively killed Sirius? Or do you pretend that you were never close to Sirius as a child? He was "Siri" to you. I was never relieved to find out he become a traitor too, I knew always that he was rebellious like me, but he was also brave, and smart enough to realise what a load of bullshit our family was feeding us.
You've made it clear you are writing to me because you feel, what did you say, overwhelmed…and that you hate him, after what he did to Draco. And I'm the only person you think you can confide in? That would be correct, wouldn't it, seeing as everyone you so hate now, are so overwhelmed by, are Death Eaters. All those on the right side are hardly going to welcome you with open arms, are they?
Oh, you feel dead inside, do you? I loved you. Do you know what really cut me up? One would think, for a mother to say she only has two daughters now, would break that girls heart…but no…do you know what broke my heart? You.
Your sister, Andromeda
I think I had been holding my breath as I read. Presumably, mothers' tears stained the bottom of the page, not so far away from Andromeda's last word 'You.' I had always been curious about the aunt I had never met, the aunt I dared not ask questions about…the former Black. Her name was never ever uttered. It was like, finally seeing who she was…who she is, through my own eyes, through her words. She did not feel like a traitor, she felt like mother had betrayed her. A million thoughts turned inside my head, as I sat on my knees. The letter had fallen, in my shocked, slack grasp. My mouth had twisted into a smile, when I read what she said about Bellatrix. About how she was the nutty one…my body almost betrayed me by spilling out a laugh. I had deliberately never pondered on it, but children did become lunatic if you kept the gene pool that close. I felt that person within me slowly creep forwards like devils snare, holding me impossibly tight, not leaving. It was the anger, surging through me. Hatred at myself. My thoughts were leaning towards that of a blood traitor, a Mudblood lover. Andromeda was nothing but dirty scum who had betrayed her family…left mother behind…to start a new life. Scathingly, her words snuck into my ear. Words like prejudice and bigot…words like Siri and cousins. Mother had been close to him? My heart plummeted and I remembered with a blank face and wide-open eyes that Bellatrix had said Severus had wanted no one but Lily Potter? Potter's Mudblood mother. I had thought Bellatrix lied, it didn't make sense, just like this didn't make sense. Severus and mother were on the Dark Lord's side, they hated the Mudbloods and blood traitor mud, so why were they friends with such filth? Why was mother close to Sirius Black? Had been. Had been close. I wondered too, how Mother had felt after Bellatrix killed him. If she loved him once, then surely she had been torn? Broken? My heart missed a beat when I saw another wrinkled letter stuffed inside the green box. With shaky hands, I grasped it, reading greedily.
Dear Narcissa
What you wrote to me, kept me up most of the night. I am glad you're sorry but your words…they stung me and yet they warmed me. I was happy to hear the story you were never able to tell me yourself, about Sirius being angry with the family…even though I knew he was different, I hadn't suspected at that age, so young, that he was already questioning them. Thank you for telling me. Cissy, I knew you were terrified and anxious that night. You were as white as a sheet. To answer your question, yes Cissy, I know what's it's like to love him, to love you, and to love them. I understand how confusing it is, because I too love Bella. I love the Bella I knew as a child, and I hate the Bella she grew into.
Since you did not leave as I did, you were imprisoned in our pure-blood obsessed family, so it is no wonder, that you still hate Muggle-borns and 'blood traitors.' However, I can assure you, that their blood is not filthy. Human blood is human blood…its red, and it flows through our bodies, keeping us alive. I am glad I was never dead to you. You felt hatred and sadness when he died? Well Cissy, to hear that you locked yourself in your bathroom to cry when he died, does not surprise me. Like you said, if you loved once, you never stop. I am not shocked that you remembered yourselves as children. I remember too how he use to pull the puppy dog eyes on you, saying "Cissy, Cissy, I wuv you…" I remember it like it was yesterday. I can just imagine you emerging from a bathroom, secretly crying, and then being a bitch…a superior, bigoted, prat, frankly. Well, like you said, Narcissus fell in love with his reflection, and you plaster narcissism on…that is what you reflect to the world. You are, and you were, just a scared little flower who hadn't, and will never, bloom.
I am astounded that you would like to meet me, to see me one day. You wonder if I still look like Bella? Unfortunately, I do. Like Bella and Druella, and I hate that when I look in the mirror, I see aspects of themselves reflected. You and I, and you and Bella, never looked like sisters. Of course, Bella and I looked like twins…father looked so much like you, though. Blue eyed, blonde, frail. And I miss him…I use to cry in my sleep, remembering how he didn't look manic, not furious, that night. He was too calm for such Bellatrix/Druella/Walburga antics, though. Yet, he said nothing, and with a closed mouth and a rigid stance, he let me go. I would then, agree to meet. In a reluctant way, I understand your position. You choose this life, and you are stuck with it, so our meeting must be secret. If you left now, he would kill you. Before Severus Snape killed Dumbledore, I would have told you to switch sides...he would have hidden you, but now, you are alone. I have always wondered if you look like the sister I remember, and I wondered what Draco was like, and I admit, I have always burned with curiosity to see Draco, to meet him.
Andromeda
Mother locked herself in the bathroom and cried over his death? I had never heard her speak of Sirius Black. It was inconceivable, and yet, true. I could see it though, shockingly clear in my mind, I could see mother locked in a bathroom, leaning against a wall, slipping wearily like Dumbledore against the ramparts, crying as she thought of themselves as children. I had been stupid; I had never considered that she must have loved him when she was a child, or even Andromeda. I had assumed they had always hated each other. Puppy dog eyes. "Cissy, Cissy, I wuv you." I felt my blood run cold, as if I had been swimming in the Great Lake on a winter's morning. Narcissus. Reflection. I understood, as I tucked the two letters away and put them back in the cabinet, that mother was not in reality as narcissistic and bigoted and as cutting as she seemed, as she could be. She simply gave this reflection to the world and she coped, I saw, in a similar way as I did. Just a scared little flower that would never bloom, and never would. I felt sick…that is all I was, too. I was a scared flower that would never bloom, because I was and always had been pitiful and weak. Malicious when I wanted to be and relishing in cruelty, but always, always, a pathetic coward.
She looked like Bella. I stood surprisingly unshakably, and walked out of that bedroom and into the drawing room, where I hoped mother would still be. I had to tell her. There was an arrangement to meet one day, and I was involved. She wanted to see me. Mother must have been planning to tell me, anyway, I had thought confusingly, and I couldn't hear the pounding of my feet against the polished floorboards, only the pounding of my heart in my ears. It was hard to imagine someone looking like Bellatrix, and being so…different. Maybe kind?
I turned the doorknob and expected to find her still crying, or perhaps sitting there and looking vacantly into the distance, but she was writing furiously and I wondered if she was replying to Andromeda. As soon as I creaked the door open, she had frozen, writing ceased.
'Are you…alright, now?' I asked.
'Yes…yes, I'm fine. Lucius will be home before long.' Mother smiled her first genuine smile since the day I had been tortured. I sat down in the chair opposite her, noticing for the first time that my legs were stinging and prickly, that I had pins and needles, for sitting on my knees while I read her letters.
'I…wasinyourbedroom…andireadyourletters.' The words spewed from my mouth too fast and too mumbled.
'Sorry?'
'I…was in your bedroom and I saw a cabinet I had never seen before. I was curious. So I opened it, and found your letters. Letters from Andromeda. And I read them.'
Her face crinkled into worry.
'W-what did you think?'
'Well, you can't really argue with the logic…you know, about inbred nutters.'
She laughed. For the first time in a long time she laughed and it was like permission for me to do the same, and I laughed. It felt so good, so refreshing.
'I was surprised that you were close to…Sirius.' His name was foreign and strange to my mouth, to my voice.
An odd expression crossed her face.
'We were children. Of course, we all loved each other. Even Regulus…he was always so moody, though, and Sirius was mischievous. He was a lot like Andromeda.'
'So…what was…she like?' I ventured.
'Impervious, rebellious, hot-headed, temperamental, intelligent…proud, but open minded. I love and hate her, Draco. And the fact that I love her is my biggest kept secret.' I nodded.
'Just like you love and hate Bellatrix.'
'Yes.' Mother whispered.
'Do you wish that you had made the same decision she had?' I asked, feeling odd. I may have been born into a vastly different life, in that case.
'No. I would not have had you otherwise-'
'Yes…because you and father could still have been together!' I said indignantly.
'Your father became a Death Eater, and if I had chosen Andromeda's path, I would not have chosen to be with a Death Eater.' Did I value my life more than mothers? Would I have wished mother to have a better life with her sister, instead of having me? I could not bring myself to wish that I valued her life over mine…and I knew I was selfish, but I also knew, that most people, if they were truly honest with themselves, would value their own lives more than someone else's…more than their mothers. I was selfish, but at least I was honest with myself.
So I nodded solemnly.
'Do you want to meet your aunt, then?'
'Yes.' I replied, automatically.
'Then, we shall. I was going to tell her I changed my mind. I wasn't going to tell you, I never dared believe your reaction would be was it is.' Mother began writing again, and I looked at her hand, seeing the blank ink smudge on her hands and my mind whizzed to the times Evelyn had sneered to mother about her smudged hands. I sat in the armchair in the corner and mused over everything I had read, analysing Andromeda and her words. It was so peculiar, haunting and shattering…but I was so anxious to meet her, I needed to see her and her face so like Bellatrix's. I wanted to look upon the aunt whose name I had guessed was forbidden, the woman we never spoke of. She was a disowned Black. She was dead. She was a ghost. She was a filthy blood traitor.
I heard mother screech and I looked up. She was knotted in a hug with father. I could hardly believe that a moment ago father was not here, and in the next moment, he was. I felt both the happiest and most hesitant I had ever felt. Father had apparated, he was back…and I simply sat there, watching. Watching them kiss, watching them press their heads together. Watching them separate, and watching father watch me. I did not know what to do. I had missed him, but we never hugged, and he could always find something to criticize me for, but surprisingly he pulled me gently into a hug and I was so ecstatically happy and so amazingly shocked to my core, and slightly shaken. We parted, and he looked at me, with sudden warmth in his usually colder, grey eyes. My eyes loomed to the table. The letter was gone, and with a sinking feeling, I realised we would be keeping this a definite secret from father. After all, Andromeda had said it must be secret. She was right, there was too much to lose…mother and I would be seen as traitors to the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. They would think we were Mudblood and blood traitor lovers. We were not. I hated them, and they were filthy. They were scum. I knew their blood was red, and flowed through their bodies like our blood, but their blood was tainted. Tainted with their difference, their rebellion, their stupid courage and their crass. Polluted and corrupted with insubordination.