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The Purple Black
Bellatrix Lestrange grinned as she pulled the curtains to her niece's room wide open, turning to the woman groaning in her bed as she pulled the sheets up over her head.
"Wakey, wakey," Bellatrix chimed, striding over and falling to sit down next to her niece.
"No . . ." Dora groaned from beneath the sheets, "Sleep . . ." Bellatrix rolled her eyes, grabbing onto the sheets and pulling them away from the girl. Nymphadora turned to face her Aunt, squinting against the sunlight in her groggy state. "Has anyone ever told you," Dora yawned widely, "that you are a very mean person."
"Hmm," Bellatrix mused, "I've been called worse."
"What time is it?" Dora asked, sitting up in her bed slightly and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked to her Aunt, who was still wearing the same clothes she had been the previous night, "If I've been asleep for any less than seven hours minimum, I'll kill you."
"I would like to see you try," Bellatrix scoffed, "you've been sleeping for . . ." she looked to the clock for a moment before shrugging and looking back to the girl, "it's one in the afternoon."
"Really?" Dora frowned, "Have you slept?"
"No," Bellatrix smirked, "I've been busy. Look at this."
Dora sighed as her Aunt threw a copy of the day's Daily Prophet on her lap, though as she unfolded it and looked at the front cover her eyes widened. The page was split into two parts, on the bottom half lay pictures of her fellow Death Eaters, the headline "Arrests at the Ministry" hanging above them as their faces stared back at her. They all held prison numbers in their hands, some such as Rodolphus glaring defiantly straight into the camera, Lucius was looking pathetic as ever with a bruised cut on his forehead, Barty simply looked bored, though Nymphadora couldn't help but notice a small look in his eyes that screamed both defiance and anger. She lingered on his photograph for a moment before she looked at what her Aunt had clearly meant to show her. There, taking up the entire top half of the page were two photographs. One of Bellatrix, a proud portrait with her usual haughty stare burning down the lens and Nymphadora, sat back on an armchair with a glass of wine in one hand as she cocked an eyebrow and smirked menacingly. The two photographs bore the heading the heading "WANTED AND DANGEROUS" in large bold letters and framed in their own wanted posters.
"They took this from the manor," Dora frowned, "that picture of me is from my birthday last year . . . They've put a picture of me drunk on the front of the Daily Prophet."
"Well, you don't look drunk, you look dangerous." Bellatrix said with a small laugh as she took the paper from the girl, "The descriptions beneath make me laugh, mine is pretty standard," Bellatrix cleared her throat before speaking in a mocking tone, "Bellatrix Lestrange is a known Death Eater, murderer and highly dangerous, approach with extreme caution pretty standard," she shrugged, "and I suppose the thousand galleon reward is pretty reasonable. Your one, however," Bellatrix cleared her throat again, smirking at the girl as she regained her mocking tone, "Nymphadora Tonks is a known Death Eater and highly dangerous, metamorphmagus (has the ability to change her appearance at will without the aid of spells or potions), really, you'd think the Wizarding public morons." Bellatrix rolled her eyes before passing the paper back to her niece, "It says in here that the wizarding public are to set up security questions with everyone they know to ensure that it is not a Death Eater—most likely being yourself according to them—impersonating them."
"Yep," Dora nodded sarcastically, opening the paper and scanning the pages, "because I have nothing better to do . . . Aunt Bella?"
"Hmm?" Bella smirked as she looked down to see what Nymphadora was reading.
"It says here that they've searched my parent's house . . ."
Bellatrix laughed, "Oh, I wish I could have been there to see that. A useless task of course, but oh Andromeda would have been so pleased."
"When asked for comment, Andromeda Tonks advised that she had not seen her daughter since disowning her at the age of sixteen. She then proceeded to threaten to curse our reporter should he not leave her alone," Dora sighed, "Sounds like her."
"Yes," Bellatrix smirked, "I believe it also comments in there that the public is to be wary of any family of the wanted for the time being. Andromeda's become even more ostracized than she once was, though I'm sure poor Narcissa will be delighted to hear the public have been warned against her."
"Hmm . . ." Dora stared at the pictures within the paper, one of Andromeda Tonks looking ready to make good on her promise to curse the reporter with Ted standing behind her looking about ready to convince her to come inside, another of Narcissa Malfoy, looking as prim and proper as usual leaving the Ministry of Magic. "Where's Aunt Cissa?"
"In the Manor somewhere, I haven't ventured to find her yet," Bellatrix sighed, "I believe all relatives of us fugitives are hiding away at the moment. She may have gone to fetch Draco from school though, Merlin knows."
The two witches sat in silence for a few moments before Nymphadora put the paper to the side, looking to her Aunt as she felt a great need to change the subject. "Why are you still wearing what you were wearing last night?"
"Because I was busy," Bellatrix moved herself to sit on the end of the girl's bed, leaning against one of the four posters. "I went to see The Dark Lord, we had . . . things to tend to."
"Like what?" Dora asked curiously.
"Well, he told me a few things, like how he was impressed with you." Bellatrix grinned as the younger woman couldn't help but blush slightly. "You did very well, Nymphadora. I am impressed—proud even."
"It was luck," Dora shrugged, "you would have done the same."
"Perhaps I would have," Bellatrix mused, "though I would not have called it luck. I would call it intuition and skill."
"Of course," Dora smirked, "What else did you discuss, did he tell you . . ." Bellatrix nodded slightly, "Can you tell me?"
"I do not believe it was what The Dark Lord expected it to be," Bellatrix frowned as she remembered their conversation, "he knew only the part of the prophecy that dictated that Potter could cause problems for him . . . he needs to be the one to kill him, it can only be him."
"He wanted to be the one to kill him anyway, didn't he?" Dora sighed as Bellatrix nodded, trying to fight the feeling of frustration as she looked down. So much effort, so much planning and hard work resulting in Barty being imprisoned all to be told that nothing had changed.
"It is better for him to know than to have failed in the task, Nymphadora," Bellatrix said as she watched her niece almost knowingly, "Should you and I have escaped without the prophecy we would have taken the brunt of the punishment for everyone. Whereas now," a small smirk crept onto her lips as she leant forward to the girl, "now we receive praise and reward."
"What reward?" Dora crossed her arms as she looked at her Aunt.
"For you?" Bellatrix raised an eyebrow at the girl, "Pet, you have proven yourself to be a loyal and extremely valuable warrior for his cause, just as I have always wanted you too. He will not forget that and you will see the benefits."
"And for you?" Nymphadora asked after a moment.
"For me?" Bellatrix smirked, "Well, that is between myself and The Dark Lord . . . for now."
"For now?" Dora asked, she knew only one 'reward' that The Dark Lord could easily give Bellatrix, she knew all about their relations and she was perfectly happy with that staying between the two of them.
"For now," Bellatrix nodded.
Nymphadora watched the woman curiously, letting her get off of the bed and walk over to kiss her head without question. The two woman looked into each other's eyes for a moment, Bellatrix giving the girl a wink and a devilish smirk before she turned and left the room without question. Nymphadora furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, trying to think over what her Aunt had said. She eventually sighed and gave up, reaching over for the newspaper and turning to the front cover again. She stared at the picture of Barty, chewing her lip as she felt the pain in her chest again, though she couldn't tear her eyes away from his photograph.
It had been nearly a week since the events of the Ministry and Nymphadora had so far decided that she did not want to leave the wing of the Manor that Bellatrix and Nymphadora currently resided in. The Aurors had already come and torn the place apart looking for them, something Bellatrix found highly amusing as she stood on the other side of the concealed entrance, wand drawn almost begging for them to find her and cause a fight. Dora had known that it was safe for her to leave the wing on multiple occasions now, even if she did run into a member of the ministry she could easily morph into someone else to disguise her appearance, but something had held her back. Though as the reality of being confined in one area had begun to make her itch Nymphadora soon found herself casting a spell to ensure that there were no visitors in the Manor and leaving the wing. Still, she walked quietly, looking each way as she slipped down the corridors in search of Narcissa. It didn't take her long to find her.
Narcissa Malfoy was sat in a plush armchair of one of the sitting rooms of Malfoy Manor, staring blankly into the unlit fire as she clutched a glass of wine in her hands. Nymphadora noted the nearly empty bottle beside her and sighed, she smiled slightly as Narcissa turned to look at her, she looked worn, her hair slightly dishevelled and her eyes slightly red as if she'd been crying. "Save some for me," Nymphadora joked half-heartedly, summoning a glass and picking up the bottle of wine, "good choice, one of my favourites."
"You shouldn't be wandering about, Nymphadora." Narcissa sighed, drinking the last dregs of her glass and holding it out to her niece who merely gave a huff of laughter and poured each of them a glass.
"There's no-one else here," Dora shrugged, moving to sit on one of the other armchairs, "besides, I've had no-one for company for the last week but Aunt Bella and she, well . . . I love her but . . ."
"She can be trying at times," Narcissa gave a knowing look to the girl, "I understand."
"Yeah . . ." Dora nodded, sipping her wine and looking into the empty fire, "are you expecting someone?"
"I wouldn't be so calm about your appearance in here if I was," Narcissa sighed, "there's no-one coming . . ."
Nymphadora looked at the older witch for a moment, taking in her clear sorrow before she carried on, "So why the fire watching?"
"I—" Narcissa hesitated, taking a large sip of her wine, "I don't know."
". . . You miss him, don't you?" Dora asked.
Narcissa looked down, it was as if an internal battle was going on within her; the side of her that had been taught for her entire life not to show emotion battling with the side that was suffering deeply at the loss of her husband. "He is my husband," Narcissa said finally.
"Yeah . . ." Dora swirled her wine around her glass slightly, "Aunt Bella doesn't seem to upset about Uncle Rod at the moment."
"Bellatrix is a different breed," Narcissa rolled her eyes, "even if she was missing him terribly to the point of wanting to bawl her eyes out and never wake up again you would never see it. She doesn't show real emotion often."
"I don't know," Dora smirked, "I've seen her pretty angry before, that's one hell of an emotional display coming from her."
"That's different," Narcissa said dismissively.
Dora gave a slight nod, taking another drink as she thought to herself, staring into the depths of her wine glass.
"What's the matter?" Narcissa eventually asked.
"Nothing," Dora shook her head.
"You know, Bella isn't the only one that is good at telling when people are lying to them," Narcissa gave a slightly sad smile to her niece, "What is it? You should be just as happy as Bellatrix right now, you succeeded, got the Prophecy for The Dark Lord, got out of the Ministry and are not blamed for the 'failures' of others." Narcissa could not help but hide the tone of bitterness in her voice as she took another long sip of her wine.
"I—" Dora shook her head, "I'm happy that I succeeded, I suppose. But it's still not right that the rest got captured. I wouldn't have gotten out of there if I didn't have help . . . They should be here, not in that barbaric hell-hole. I—. . . Maybe I miss them." Dora looked up in surprise as Narcissa let out a short laugh, "What?" she asked.
"Who is it?" Narcissa smirked.
"I don't know what you—"
"You have always understood that you, or anyone working with you, could be arrested at any point, you understand that they will be released soon so you should have no worries about that and not be sad to see them gone for too long as you have no real connection to the most of them. You like Rodolphus, I know that you get along with him. You've never really spoken to Lucius much, though it's true you've also known him for a long time. Though the rest of them . . . I can't see any reason why you'd miss them too much, they're just your associates. Unless . . ." Narcissa trailed off, drinking the last of her wine.
"Unless what?" Dora frowned.
"Unless you've developed more than a friendship." Narcissa watched the girl as she scoffed, not missing the blush that she hurriedly morphed away, "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're wrong," Dora said without hesitation.
"Liar," Narcissa laughed.
"I am not," Dora lied.
"Okay," Narcissa shrugged in amusement, "you want to play that game, fine. Let's see . . ." Narcissa made a show of thinking for a moment, her niece having to stop and wonder exactly how much wine she had consumed before she had arrived, "The most of the men you do not associate with outside of your service, so that rules the likes of Jugson, Macnair, Rookwood, Nott . . . Crabbe . . . I've heard Dolohov make comments about you but I doubt you'd put up with his advances."
"Dolohov?" Dora wrinkled her nose and gagged, "Ew. Remind me to punch him when I see him again."
"Rabastan . . ." Narcissa watched the girl carefully for her reaction, "I don't think he would . . . You two work well together, so I hear, but no . . . There is one suspect though, makes sense, you've worked with him alone on numerous occasions, he is closer to your age than the rest . . ." Narcissa watched her niece, the younger woman's eyes darting away from her as she focused on draining her glass of wine. "So, how long have you had feelings for Barty?"
"I—" Dora sighed in defeat, "It's just sex."
"Well," Narcissa raised her eyebrows, "I was merely insinuating you had feelings for him, this is news."
"It's just sex . . ." Dora repeated somewhat unconvincingly.
"Do you think Bellatrix knows?"
Dora laughed, "No, she already threatened him when he moved into the Manor as to how he should not go near my room. She warned me off of him and I told her I'd listen to her."
"So, in other words, she knew exactly what you were doing—or suspected what you were about to do—and was giving you a chance to admit it or heed her warning," Narcissa said matter-of-factly.
"No— . . . She— . . . Shit, you're right, aren't you?" Dora abandoned her wine glass, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried not to think about it.
"I always am," Narcissa mused, ". . . Believe it or not, it is nearly exactly what we did with your mother."
Dora frowned, looking at her Aunt in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"Well," Narcissa sighed, "I suspected Andromeda was up to something, albeit a fair while after she had begun seeing the mudblood . . . I tried to confront her and she flat out denied it, of course. I was willing to ignore it, young and naïve as I was, but Bellatrix noticed I was worried about something and I told her my suspicions. She didn't so much as brutally confront her to start with, but she warned her that she had seen the way Tonks had looked at her and warned her to stay away from him, reminded her subtly—or as subtly as Bellatrix is capable of—of what would happen if she were to fall down that path . . ."
"Then what happened?" Dora couldn't help but ask.
Narcissa smiled sadly at the girl, considering her for a long moment before she sighed, "Well, you're here, so that goes something for showing that she didn't listen to us." Narcissa rolled her eyes, "She left over a year later, it was . . . not pleasant. But she was more than happy to go off with the mudblood and brand herself a blood traitor. Good riddance to her."
"Yeah . . ." Dora agreed.
"Don't distract me from my interrogation of you, Dora." Narcissa shook her head as she looked back at the girl with a slightly drunken smirk.
"What's your name, Bellatrix?" Dora laughed.
"No," Narcissa wrinkled her nose for a moment before she drew herself up in her seat and looked to her niece, "I have much more tact."
"True," Dora smirked.
"So . . . Do you love him?" Narcissa asked curiously.
"I—" Dora went to deny the fact, though the words caught in her throat and she couldn't do it. She tried not to squirm under the knowing glance of her Aunt for a long moment before she let out a breath, "I don't know . . . I care for him. All I know right now is that I hate the idea of him being in Azkaban. The minute I heard he was captured I felt like I could scream, I was relieved that they didn't give him the kiss but . . . I simultaneously want to murder the git for getting caught when he promised when he told me to run that he would see me soon and . . ." Dora paused for a moment, looking down at her hands in her lap as she mumbled her words, "I want him back here."
Nymphadora cursed herself as she felt tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to spill and make a fool of her in front her Aunt. She was just considering making her excuses and running from the room when she felt the weight of her Aunt sitting on the arm of her chair and pulling her into her side. "They'll come back . . ." Narcissa sighed, stroking the girl's hair, "we just have to be patient . . . and if you still feel like murdering him for breaking his promise when he returns I'm sure Bellatrix will be more than happy to help you in the matter."
Dora let out a scoff of laughter as she swatted away the few treacherous tears that had escaped her. "She really is going to want to murder him, isn't she?"
"No," Narcissa sighed in amusement, "she just puts on a show because she's worried about you getting hurt. She knows that some men would, to put it bluntly, love to take advantage of a beautiful young woman who can be anything a man would desire."
"He's not like that," Dora shook her head as she rested into her Aunt's side, "It's not just sex . . . You should have seen him when I got hurt, he was pretty much beside himself with worry and guilt."
"Well, maybe you need to talk to your Aunt Bella about such things," Narcissa suggested, "though, as I said, I think she must already know—or suspect at the least—what is going on between you two, you have been getting away with this under her roof after all. Not much gets past Bellatrix . . . if she thought he was truly ill-intentioned she would have done something about it by now; she's very protective of you if you hadn't already noticed."
"I've noticed." Dora sighed, pulling away from her Aunt and getting herself to her feet, she walked over to the mirror and made sure to arrange her face to get rid of all traces of her tears before turning back to the blonde witch. "I should get back to her . . . she seems content enough in her own way but . . ."
"She misses Rodolphus too, though she would never admit it," Narcissa agreed, "Though I wouldn't broach the matter with her unless you wish to get cursed."
"I wouldn't dare," Dora scoffed, walking up to Narcissa and kissing her cheek, "Thanks . . . Are you going to be okay?"
"I'll be fine," Narcissa rolled her eyes dismissively, "I'm a Black, after all."
"Of course," Dora smiled, nodding to the witch before leaving the room to make her way back to her and Bella's wing.
Narcissa sighed, falling down into the girl's vacated armchair with little grace. She looked summoned another glass of wine and took another drink before staring up at the proud portrait of herself, Lucius and Draco hanging above the fireplace longingly. Narcissa Malfoy closed her eyes as tears escaped her eyes, trying not to think of when she would see her husband again nor what would happen to her family upon his return. She knew that Lord Voldemort had plans, knew that it involved her son in some way, though she dared not to think of the journey of what undoubtedly seemed to be nothing but pain and misery ahead of her.
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The Purple Black