AN: Posting this a tad early as I am on vacation (and it's my birthday) and I am unsure I will have time tomorrow as we finish up our trip. If you want to leave me a birthday present, then please leave a review ;*
Narcissa glanced around the platform, her voice lowering. "Just be cautious, Draco. We've made sacrifices to get to this point. It would be a shame for anything to disrupt the delicate balance we've achieved."
Draco gave her a solemn look, steeling himself for what awaited him. "I understand. I'll proceed with care."
Narcissa allowed a faint smile, though her eyes remained distant. "Good. Come along, now. We mustn't keep everyone waiting."
Chapter 12: Malfoy Manor
…6 weeks ago…
River's POV
My mind comes back into focus as I stumble from Snape's grip and fall to the gravel driveway. The sidelong apparition hit harder after being so mentally and physically drained and I feel the bile come up my throat, my body purging anything it can to try and right itself. His hand is surprisingly gentle as he helps me up, his usual icy presence feels more grounding than it has in the past, and he hands me a glass of water conjured out dampness of the air.
"Thank you." I say quietly as I gulp it down.
"Tread carefully and listen to what is not said." Snape says under his breath. Dumbledore's explanation surfaces in my mind. He is not what he appears to be. I remind myself that I am alone, to not depend on others, but not to overlook those words, as I wade into serpent filled waters.
The voices of the others swirl around me, Bellatrix's unmistakable cackle of glee, and the exuberance of the Lestrange brothers. Their minds are relatively simple to hear since Dumbledore's block was released. Nothing from them jumps out as more than trite cliche… but there is another mind that causes my defenses to be on guard.
Fenrir Greyback is more beast than man… his mind reeks of his singular tastes… the tastes of flesh, blood, chaos, typically from very young unwilling girls. My body shivers as I catch him sniffing the air and catching my scent. Fresh meat…
"Come! Let us regale our Lord of our success!" Bellatrix says as she and the Lestranges make their way to the front of the large manor we had apparated to.
"Come." Snape says as he takes my arm, keeping me close to him… and putting himself between me and Greyback.
As we approach the large wooden doors, they open to reveal a singular person, a woman with shocking blonde hair, Narcissa Malfoy. Her mind feels like Draco's but different, like the first tendrils of ice that form over deep, still, waters. For a moment I feel her eyes land on me, as if there is a brief flicker of something more, before the ice forms over the water and carries the look away. Curious, did Draco write to her about me?
"Sister!" Bellatrix says as she bounds to the other woman, still cackling. "Tonight we celebrate! We need champagne!"
Narcissa merely waves her hand dismissively to show her acquiescence to her sister's demands while in her house.
The Lestranges all bound through the door, but a singular eyebrow arching from Narcissa has Greyback quickly stopping and muttering under his breath as he does not enter. There is a moment between them, where they both hold the others' gaze, before Greyback growls and stomps towards the side of the manor. Clearly, not all are welcome inside Malfoy manor, even if they do serve the Dark Lord.
"Narcissa." Snape says in greeting as we stop in front of her.
"Severus." She responds, her tone firm but more friendly than her interactions to the others.
"May I present Ms. River Black." Severus says as his hand drops from my arm.
"Ms. Black, I had hoped we would make each other's acquaintance under different circumstances, but I welcome you to Malfoy Manor."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." I say politely.
"Narcissa, please." Narcissa says as she turns to lead us inside. "Come. Lucius and Lord Voldemort await your arrival.
I steel myself and follow Narcissa into the receiving hall, before we walk through the large French doors to the right and into the Drawing Room. Malfoy Manor feels eerily similar to Grimmauld. There is a hidden depth to the magic in its walls, its wards… something that almost calls to my magic on a cellular level.
"Ah…Severus…" A cold voice pricks in my ears. "I see we have a guest joining us…"
While I had expected Voldemort to be more snake than human, more ghostly apparition based on what had been described, the person in front of me is almost mesmerizing. He is tall and lithe, with an air of elegance and decadence that makes him as unsettling as he is fascinating. A relentless ostinato, like the Bringer of War, hangs in the air around him. His sharp, angular features are accentuated by striking, almost ethereal pale skin, and his eyes—still snake-like but with a hint of otherworldly sparkle—shift between cold calculation and something intriguingly enigmatic. Even his clothes exude a regality and ancient sophistication, and the firelight from the hearth and the candles in the room dance off it in ways that reminds me of a snake's scales. A large snake coils itself around the chair he sits in, and he regards us with a smirk that's half amusement, half menace.
"My Lord, may I present Ms. River Black." As Snape moves past me to kneel in front of Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy is on the settee to the left, his calculating gaze reminds me of Draco. The thought brings up mixed emotions, as I don't trust whatever was between me and Draco was real anymore, but a pang of sadness also hits me wishing I wasn't so alone here.
"Ahh.. Ms. Black. I have been looking forward to meeting you." Voldemort says as he stands, his hand outstretched to me in greeting completely disregarding Snape's presence in front of him.
I'm perplexed. Everything in my mind screams that something isn't adding up. I run through every memory, every uttered remark, yet… they don't reconcile themselves with what I see in front of me. As if sensing my confusion, a sudden, sharp, intrusive feeling settles into my mind, like an ice pick being driven into a glacier. It's painful enough I wince and shut my eyes momentarily as the pain spikes before subsiding.
"Apologies… I am sure this is unsettling…" He says as he motions for me to sit.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself as I reluctantly sit across from Voldemort. His gaze is intense, almost as if he's peeling back my layers, but I refuse to look away, my insides twist with unease.
"Ms. Black, I can imagine it has not been easy for you," Voldemort begins, his voice smooth and eerily calm. "Coming here, into the heart of this... family, whose values are so different from those of others at Hogwarts. It must feel as though you are caught between worlds."
I stiffen, but remain silent, unwilling to betray my thoughts. Voldemort's eyes narrow, catching my reaction, and I watch as he leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper that is somehow more penetrating than any shout.
"You struggle to belong, don't you? To find a place where you truly fit." He smiles, a strange, almost sympathetic expression that sends a chill down my spine. "I understand that well, perhaps more than you know. After all, I, too, was once... an outsider."
I swallow hard, the words biting at my insecurities in a way I hadn't expected. I hate that he's right, that his words reflect my fears so perfectly.
"Even among your peers… you feel different. You carry the name Black, but you're not quite one of them, are you? You wear the robes of Slytherin, but you hesitate. Why is that?"
Insidious is blind inception
What's reality with all these questions?
Feels like I missed my alarm and slept in (slept in)
"I don't hesitate," I respond quickly, but even to my own ears, it sounds unconvincing. Voldemort's smirk widens, the amusement in his eyes sharper now.
"Ah, denial." He waves his hand dismissively, a gesture that feels oddly familiar, almost comforting, until he speaks again. "You might fool them, River, but you cannot fool me. You wish to belong, but you also fear what that means. How curious."
He rises, moving closer with a grace that is both entrancing and terrifying, and I force myself to hold his gaze. He stops just short of me, his face close enough that I can see the strange sparkle in his eyes, almost as if there's a secret buried in them. He reaches out, lifting my chin with a single finger.
"Let me tell you something, Ms. Black," he whispers, his tone almost soothing, yet laced with danger. "There is power in being different. In embracing what sets you apart. But only if you allow it to shape you, rather than chain you. I could help you see that."
Broken legs but I chase perfection
These walls are my blank expression
His words linger, and for a moment, I feel a twisted pull, an allure that shouldn't be there, but it is. He steps back, his expression once again inscrutable.
"Consider it," he says, his voice now cool, detached. "After all, the choice is yours. But remember, in this world, belonging is often just a matter of who you decide to be. And sometimes, the most powerful choice is to stand apart."
My mind reels, as he gives me a final, unsettling smile. A choice…a choice… that is more than Dumbledore gave me… but is this any different? Do I really have any choice in this world? He turns away, leaving me with thoughts that feel more like traps than insights, wondering if there's truth to be found in his words or if I'm merely falling into the very web he's spun.
"You must be tired, Narcissa can show you to a room for you to rest in while you are a guest in their home." Voldemort says as he sits back down, his large snake moving to coil itself around its master's shoulders.
My mind is a home I'm trapped in
And it's lonely inside this mansion
I rise from the chair, and move to where Narcissa holds out her hand for me. As I walk to her, she gently places it on my shoulder, guiding from the room. As we make it over the threshold, and the doors magically close behind us, I swear I feel her hand on my shoulder tremble ever so slightly, hinting at the true danger I was in while in that room.
Voldemort leaned back in his chair, Nagini continued to coil around him. As he watched the door close behind River and Narcissa, he turned his attention to Lucius and Severus. "So…what do we make of our young Ms. Black? Her mind is… quite extraordinary."
Lucius nods respectfully, his tone carefully measured. "Indeed, my Lord. Her resilience tonight is notable, and while he was taking his time, Draco did develop a rapport with her before Pucey's impulsive behavior."
"Pucey should not have interfered in the manner he did." Snape quickly adds to his godson's defense. "Tonight could have had an entirely different outcome had Ms. Black not made her way outside the castle."
"Yes… it is regrettable that Mr. Pucey seems to be such a loose cannon." Voldemort remarks casually, leaving the topic for him to consider further. "Young Draco proved himself useful. His efforts have not gone unnoticed. Between him, Bellatrix, and Narcissa, we have the ideal hands to guide her. Family, after all, can be the strongest of bonds—and the hardest to sever."
"River has endured much; Dumbledore's secrets proved his downfall in regards to her." Snape continued, voice low, with a hint of caution. "There's another concern, my Lord—Sirius Black. If he learns of her involvement here, he could become problematic."
Lucius considered Severus' words. "Black has always been… tenacious. He's one of the few who would risk coming after her, if he suspects she's in danger."
A flash of irritation crosses Voldemort's face at the mention of Sirius Black. "Sirius Black and his pet werewolf are a nuisance, yes, but they are easily disposed of if they become too meddlesome. Still, it would be preferable if they remained ignorant of her whereabouts. She will need to be kept under close watch, but subtly. We cannot allow any signs of weakness to leak beyond these walls."
"Bellatrix and Narcissa's influence could shield her from Black's interference. The more they draw her into our fold, the less likely she'll be swayed by whatever sentiment he might stir." Lucius offered casually.
"Narcissa's steadiness and Bellatrix's fervor will create a sense of belonging that Sirius cannot hope to match." Voldemort concurs. "As for Draco, let him continue his work. He is a valuable piece in this game, and River's attachment to him could be the thread that binds her here."
"And if they do come for her, my Lord?" Severus asked warily.
Voldemort's gaze hardened. "Then we shall deal with them swiftly. Their loyalty to Dumbledore makes them predictable—and vulnerable. But I want her firmly in our grasp before it comes to that. Family will be her anchor, and we will ensure that Black's influence is no more than a distant memory."
"Then we proceed as planned?" Lucius asks as he stands so as to put plans in motion with Bellatrix and Narcissa.
"Indeed. Family can be a double-edged sword, but we shall wield it to our advantage. She will come to see this as her true home. And should she falter, we have the means to remind her where her loyalties lie." Voldemort hisses as a smile cracks his face.
The inner machinations of Malfoy Manor swept into motion. That evening Lucius strengthened the wards of the Manor, to the point where should she try to run, River would find herself physically unable to breach the grounds. She was a pretty bird trapped in a gilded cage she could not see.
Bellatrix had practically screamed in excitement at being told she was to train her "dearest family" and immediately set plans in motion for what this training would entail. Lucius and Snape both shared twin looks of pity for what the girl would be subjected to at the hands of Bella.
Narcissa was more reserved when the plans had been laid out to her. She agreed that River would need a steadying hand, one that would guide her to appreciate the values and lineage which she descended from. However, what everyone but Snape failed to realize, is that Narcissa had set her own plans in motion, long before River ever stepped foot on the grounds of Malfoy Manor.
"I need to speak with you, Cissa." Snape says as he found Narcissa in her conservatory a few days after his arrival with River.
"Ah, Severus, please lend me a hand with these." Narcissa remarks nonchalantly as she tends to her plants.
Snape's eyes narrowed at the presumption he was here to assist her, but picked up the pruning shears on the potting table to Narcissa's right and did as she asked. "Are you going to tell me what you are plotting Cissa?" Snape questions.
Narcissa sends him a wary glance. "Whatever could you mean?"
"I know it was you who gave River that potion's book. Or did you all too conveniently forget that I had placed it in your library for safe keeping."
Narcissa doesn't look at Severus, but a smile ghosts across her face before her lips again fall into a line giving nothing away. "Yes, well it was just collecting dust."
"You have been in correspondence with her from the start. Yet your husband…" Severus says with some dericion between his words. "Thinks this grand plan to have you guide her is his Lord and his doing."
"These evening primroses are rather unassuming at first, aren't they?" Narcissa says as she tends to the plant in her hands. "But they bloom when others fade, and their benefits are rarely immediate. One must be patient to see their true value," she remarks, her voice carrying a hint of something more beneath the surface.
Snape's eyes narrow as he picks up on the metaphor, understanding Narcissa's efforts. "You are playing a dangerous game, Cissa."
"My dear Severus, I have been playing this game far longer than you realize." She says offhandedly before turning to look Severus in the eye. "One you have sworn an unbreakable vow to help me with."
There is a threat hidden in Narcissa's words, one that causes Snape to regard her more closely. "And if it comes to one over the other?"
"It won't." Narcissa snaps, her tone conveyed to Snape she was ending the conversation.
River's POV
The weeks that passed since my arrival fell into a routine. Lucius had explained the following morning over breakfast that Bellatrix and Narcissa would be in charge of my education while I was an "esteemed guest" of the manor and the Dark Lord. I quickly surmised that the term guest would be a stretch.
Narcissa had supplied me with an array of clothing, personal items, anything to make my stay comfortable, but my existence at Malfoy Manor was like being trapped in a Labyrinth. I couldn't see the walls, yet I had to navigate inside them. But as the Academy had trained me to do… to wait, watch, listen, and plan. Voldemort had assessed my insecurities to a tee, but even from an enemy, you can learn a hundred things; from a friend, only one. I have no illusions of friends here, I only have myself.
I put holes in the walls with both of my fists 'til they bleed
You might get a glimpse of how I cope with all this anger in me
I stick to the house over the gardens, as Greyback's looming stench parades through the walls any time I even dare to consider going outside. While Narcissa may have power inside these walls, I doubt even she could control that beast out there.
Bellatrix, or Aunty Bella, as she instructs me to call her, is ecstatic at having a young mind to shape. "Wait until Draco comes home, then we can have lots of fun!" She cackles as she lays out her plans for me. I hide my conflicting emotions anytime Draco is brought up in conversation. But before then, Bellatrix intends to sharpen my focus and strengthen my mental defenses. She sidles up to me with a smile, just like they did at the Academy. But now I recognize it for what it is… an opportunity to finish what they started.
"We mustn't let those pesky triggers linger any longer." She starts by invading my mind, over, and over, and over again. They were brutal Legilimency sessions to force me to confront my painful memories and fears.
"Focus, sweetheart! Do you think your enemies will wait while you hesitate? Again!"
"Guard your mind! I can see every weakness in there—shut me out, or I'll tear it all open!"
"Pathetic! Your opponents will show you no mercy. Are you weak, or are you a Black?"
Physically abused, now that's the room that I don't want to be in
That picture ain't blurry at all, I just don't want to see it
And these walls ain't blank, I just think I don't want to see 'em
But why not? I'm in here, so I might as well read 'em
But through this mental anguish, she also taught me how to block my mind from intrusion. How to recognize the pain as a grounding anchor. How to seal everything I can away from her when she tries to break through. I feel it all, but the pain doesn't scare me the way it did before. No, now I embrace it, welcome it, like an old friend.
"Don't flinch! Pain is nothing—embrace it, or it will break you!"
"What are you afraid of? Show me your strength!"
"Put some power behind it!"
Day after day, I come back to it, letting her tear into me. But there is also a small amount of sick satisfaction in seeing her proud of my progress, seeing what i am capable of. How I push myself, how I welcome the pain I used to fear, how I open up the wounds to feel them more. I'm making a conscious choice to use what Bellatrix has given me, even if it's painful, to my advantage.
"Ah, now that's the fire I wanted to see! You're finally starting to understand!"
"Look at you—like a true Black! I knew you had it in you to be more than just a pretty face."
"That's my girl! You're starting to remind me of myself at your age. Fierce, unbreakable… and utterly unstoppable."
"Now you're learning to keep your heart out of it. Smart girl—that's how you'll survive. That's how you'll thrive."
I gotta thank you for this anger that I carry around
Wish I could take a match and burn this whole room to the ground
Balancing Bellatrix's innate desire to destroy, Narcissa sought to cultivate. Our 'lessons' were history, dark and powerful, family lineage and the weight that is carried in that. Yet despite that she was imparting something personal that tied us both together, there was an air of detachment from her.
"Family legacy is a powerful tool, if you learn to wield it. Consider what it can do for you."
"Bellatrix's methods may seem harsh, but they will harden you. Use them as you see fit."
We took tea in the conservatory. She showed me pieces of the Manor. She gave me books to read. But it was very clear she was holding something back, silently studying me, judging, critiquing. We never retired to her personal receiving room, her morning room, or any other area that would show more of who she is versus the mask she wears.
She also didn't mention if Draco ever wrote to her about me, if there was any truth to the feelings I thought he had. I still feel raw when I think about his 'task,' and I think Narcissa senses this.
"Family expectations can shape a person, but not everyone responds the same way."
"I sometimes wonder what truly goes on in his mind."
This room's full of regrets, just keeps getting fuller, it seems
The moment I walk into it is the same moment that I wanna leave
I get sick to my stomach every time I look at these things
But it's hard to look past when this is the room where I sleep
Just as I craved praise and validation from Bellatrix for withstanding her torturous training, I also craved some type of reassurance from Narcissa. It just didn't seem to come.
The Dark Lord was pleased with the results that Bellatrix and Narcissa were cultivating in River. Every time he took dinner at the Manor, when he wasn't away on some task or mission, he saw her becoming more and more like the Black Sisters. A missing piece of the original set, a balance between the two. One making up for the disgrace that had been burned from the line.
Voldemort found River's mind sharp, jagged like a shard of broken glass. She could easily hold her own in conversations regarding a number of Dark Arts. And she embraced them, did not shy away from any number of topics he discussed with her. He relished in having a mind like his own he could cultivate beyond what his professors had done for him.
"How did you first discover your affinity for the Dark Arts, my Lord? Was there a particular moment that made you realize you were destined for greatness?"
"There are so many aspects of magic you have mastered. Do you have any thoughts on where I should focus my studies to be of most value to you?"
She would be one of his greatest achievements, an exemplary of excellence he would place on a pillar for those to praise him for and a model for their own sons and daughters. Yes, she would show the world what was possible.
River's POV
"Right, today we are trying something new sweetheart!" Bellatrix announced as she flounced into the ballroom that had become her makeshift training room. A stench follows her, and I school my features quickly as Greyback walks in behind Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Narcissa will not be pleased with this change.
"Greyback has agreed to duel with you." Bellatrix announces as she and Rodolphus move to position themselves to watch.
There is no way to get out of this. I have no doubt that Greyback was the one to suggest this little plan of his to Bellatrix and she ate it up. It would be a test, to see how far I had come, how far she still needed to push me.
"Of course." I say as I allow myself to fall into a comfortable stance.
"Won't go easy on ya." Greyback says as he takes his own stance on the other side.
This is a test, but it is also a highly unpredictable situation. Greyback isn't a peer I am dueling, he is a legitimate threat. Bellatrix may intervene to a certain extent, but she will not if she feels the value of the 'lesson' outweighs whatever physical pain I have to endure.
You might get other doors to open up but this door's not
'Cause I don't want you to have the opportunity to hurt me
Greyback can't win. Greyback can't win. Greyback can't win. I repeat in my head over and over again.
"Go!" Bellatrix calls out.
Greyback immediately charges towards me, and I am forced into the defensive. I keep as much distance as I can between us, as I assess his line of attack. He favors heavy overhead swiping maneuvers, relying on his brute strength to carry the attack forward. But this means his agility isn't as sharp. I use this to my advantage and rely on quick movements to dodge his blows.
Greyback chuckles darkly as I evade another attack. "I've tasted fear in young witches like you before. It's intoxicating."
I cast a quick jelly-leg jinx that hits his shin, it provides enough time that I can put distance between us. "Smelling fear? You must be confusing it with your own stench. It's hard to tell the difference."
Greyback's smirk is feral. "I could tear you apart with my bare hands. I wonder if you'd still be so defiant when you're at my mercy."
"Don't just wait for him to attack, you need to put him under pressure as well!" Bellatrix yells from the side.
I built it because I thought that it was safer in there
But it's not, I'm not the only thing that's living in here
Offensive. Observe. Plan. Act. I repeat this to myself as I quickly survey my surroundings. Greyback will try and get close, and my spells will slow me down. I need something for the up close fight. He'll want me alive when he sinks his fangs into me.
"Accio!" I yell while pointing at the épées with the house shield displayed on the ballroom wall. An épée flies into my open hand.
"You sure you know how to use that little girl?" Greyback taunts as he tries to charge again.
This time, as he gets closer, I quickly strike out, the épée may be tipped, but the blade is sharp enough to cut into the skin of Greyback's shin.
He roars with anger for me drawing blood. "I'll enjoy ripping that confidence out of you, piece by piece. Let's see how long you last before you crumble."
His attacks are an onslaught now. Between throwing hexes, jinxes, dodging his brutal attacks, and trying to maintain distance with the épée, I feel my energy waning, my magic becoming more erratic.
Now I'm in the position, it's either sit here and let him win
Or put him back outside where he came from, but I never can
'Cause in order to do that I'd have to open the doors
"Are you letting her play with you Greyback or are you losing your touch?" Rodolphus calls from the sidelines.
This however, was not helpful to me in the slightest, because the idea that a young witch could best Greyback is too much for him to bear. He releases a bone chilling roar, and his attacks take on a truly animalistic nature. My previous plan of offense and defense is no longer working, and I feel him backing me into a corner.
He sees it. He sees his opening. His mind practically screams what he intends to do to me. Where he plans to sink his jaws first. I react without thinking, saying the first spell that comes to mind. Something written in the margins of a tattered old potion's handbook.
"Sectumsempra!"
A jet of green light erupts from the wand I hold. It doesn't hit him square in the chest, but catches his dominant right arm. I watch as Greyback twists in agony and falls to the ground. There are deep lacerations of blood streaking across his right arm and the side of his torso. His breathing comes out in labored gasps. Fuck.
Bellatrix and Rodolphus rush over from the sidelines. Bellatrix looks particularly gleeful at what I have done, but Rodolphus' face looks grave.
"Well done, sweetheart!" Bellatrix says as she rushes to congratulate me.
"Bella… we need to call for someone." As Rodolphus surveys the damage.
"What?" Bellatrix asks, confused.
It's then that she sees the true extent of the damage I have done. "Oh shit." She says before both her and Rodolphus begin calling out for help.
Is that me or the fear talking?
I don't know anymore
I don't hear anything as others rush into the room. There is a sea of people swarming around Greyback…Snape, Lucius, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan. I feel a gentle icy presence touch my arms, moving me away from the scene, but I can't look away. The face of Greyback contorts in agony, but the blistering anger he has in his eyes falls on me. "I know exactly how to make you suffer, little Black. You'll be begging for this to end before I'm finished with you."
Greyback's thoughts echo in my mind. I may have passed Bellatrix's test, but I have made a far more dangerous enemy as a result. I lose time from when I feel myself being led away from the ballroom, and when I blink I am in an unfamiliar room, a steaming cup of tea being held in front of me.
"Drink this." Narcissa says calmly as I look up to see who I am with and where I am.
I take the teacup and gently drink it. I focus on the flavors to ground me, Lavender, Rose, Lemon Balm. I hold the teacup delicately in my hands as I blink away the last bits of confusion.
"Thank you." I say quietly as I look to where Narcissa sits opposite me. I look around the room and see it's not a room I am familiar with, one that feels much more personal than any I have seen over the last few weeks.
"They won't come here. The wards won't allow it." Narcissa says to ease some of the tension in the air.
I let out a breath, because while I may be safe for the moment, I know they will all have questions.
"You've been through quite a trial today. I'm sure it wasn't what you expected when you agreed to Bellatrix's training." Narcissa watches me with a steady gaze, taking in every detail. Her tone is calm, almost soothing, but there's an edge of curiosity there too.
"I knew she'd push me hard, but Greyback… I didn't expect him." I take another sip of tea, grateful for its warmth, but I can't shake the image of Greyback's face twisted in anger, the way he vowed revenge. A shiver runs through me.
"He can be… unpredictable. Bellatrix enjoys her games, but even she doesn't always think through the consequences." She glances down at her hands, then back to me, as if weighing her words carefully. "I doubt she considered what this would cost you or the trouble it might bring."
"He won't let this go, will he?" I feel a flicker of dread, the kind that sits low in your stomach and won't be easily shaken off. Greyback's words were too specific, too real.
"No, Greyback is not one to forgive slights. But you are in my sanctuary now. Here, you're safe." Her face remains impassive.
"I'm grateful for this place, but… I can't stay hidden forever." I meet her gaze, determined to keep some semblance of control.
"No, you were never meant to be hidden." She responds remorsefully.
It feels entirely out of place, given how she has treated me over the last few weeks. She turns her head and looks towards something in front of us, and I turn my head to follow her gaze. My eyes widen, a prickle of fear seeping into my bones, and I catch sight of a bouquet of origami roses in a vase sitting on the mantle of the fireplace of the room.
I turn back to her, confusion most likely evident on my face, and she smiles gently at me.
"We have much to discuss." She reaches over, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It's a surprisingly tender gesture.
…Almost 19 years ago…
Narcissa did not take her cousin Regulus' request lightly. He had come to her, asking for her assistance, and she could not turn him away. They had once been close, the Black Cousins, and it is on that familial bond that Regulus called. She listened, truly listened, to everything that he explained. What the Dark Lord had done, what this War was becoming, how he had a chance to make things right. And she couldn't disagree with him, despite what her husband would lead her to believe. Voldemort would lead them all to ruin in the name of greater glory. If she could be part of his destruction, she would take the chance. So she agreed to Regulus' request. She would help protect the Black Family, she would help protect Regulus' legacy.
The "Sanglien Basilic" was not something to be taken lightly. It had been passed down in the Black Grimoire for centuries, yet, Narcissa did not know the last time it had been successfully completed, as it was somewhat forbidden, even for a family as dark as the Blacks. The spell would extract the magic of an entire family from the blood of one who is connected to the bloodline. It would use the venom of a basilisk to bind and preserve the stolen magic, creating a living embodiment of the family's magical essence in an ancient vessel. This amalgamation serves as a guardian or tool to conserve the family's magical power through generations, even after the family members themselves have perished.
Regulus was convinced they did not have much time, and that it would need to be completed as soon as possible. He was afraid the Dark Lord was becoming suspicious of him since he had refused to allow Kreacher to be sent on any additional tasks with him; he had come back a deeply different house elf after the last time. So while Regulus prepared what was needed, Narcissa researched and translated the old French spell.
The night they performed the ritual for the spell, the air had felt ominous. They had followed the translation to a tee, Regulus willingly offered his blood. The blood was collected in the crystal goblet. A single drop of basilisk venom was added to the goblet, to solidify the bond, ensuring the magic is permanently fused to the chosen heirloom, in this case a pocket watch. As the potion began to swirl, they stirred the blood and venom mixture and chanted: "Fusion du Sang, Héritage Conservé" until the mixture turned a deep, glowing red. The blood potion glowed fiercely, and they each felt a piece of their magical essence drained into the heirloom.
But there was no spectral entity inside the heirloom as the translation had said. They also failed to realize that the family member from whom the blood is taken will be left weakened. When Regulus failed to return with Kreacher from his quest, Narcissa knew in her heart he had perished. Kreacher would guard the locket that Regulus had died to obtain, and Narcissa would wait, wait for when the spectral entity of the Black magic would reappear, and secretly plot what she could to aid in the Dark Lord's demise.
River's POV
"You knew…all this time. You knew how I was…" But the words die in my mouth, tasting like sand. Created…summoned? Was I just another weapon to the Black Family too?
"Yes, and I am sorry for not being able to reveal more sooner." Narcissa says with a hint of remorse as if reading my thoughts. "But you were never meant to be a weapon. You were always very much part of this family, regardless of how you came to be."
"The ritual, the "Sanglien Basilic" you described, what exactly did it do? Why did I end up in a different time?"
Narcissa takes a steadying breath before responding. "I am not sure. We translated the text precisely, but we were unable to determine why the ritual did not produce the full results. My only guess was that the Dark Mark's magic may have interfered with Regulus' blood offering."
"I was always connected to this then, this War, this dark magic." I say as resignation sets in.
"Unfortunately, we all have been." Narcissa reaches over and her hand gives mine a comforting squeeze. "But that does not mean it must define us."
"How can it not?" I question her.
"Because you have pieces of all of us in you: Bella's power, Regulus' bravery, my cunning, Andromeda's kindness, and Sirius' independence."
"But how can I make sense of those things when they come from people who have been on both sides of this war? I have Bella's madness in me, too. I've seen it. Feel it." The words tumble out before I can stop them, the fear and confusion woven into each syllable. I'm not sure if she truly understands what it means to have so many conflicting pieces inside me.
"I know. Bella's influence is strong, and her power… intense. But you're not bound by that alone, River. Those traits don't define you; they are simply parts of what you can choose to become." Narcissa's eyes search mine, as if she's trying to gauge whether I can accept the idea. Her hand remains on mine, a small gesture of support that I didn't realize I needed until now.
I feel like I was made for this war, tied to it by blood and magic…a lion and a snake, a chimera like the prophecy claimed. What if I can't escape it? My voice cracks, betraying the frustration and helplessness I feel. "How can I just choose?"
"None of us can escape our blood entirely. But we can decide what we'll do with it. The same way Regulus did when he defied the Dark Lord. And the same way Andromeda did when she chose to leave our family for love." There's a conviction in her tone that feels unshakeable, as if she's lived this struggle herself. And maybe she has.
The idea feels distant, like something that belongs in someone else's story. I can't even picture it
"You remind me of him, of Regulus. His choices… they echo through you. You are not a weapon, River. You are the embodiment of choices, of possibilities, of a family that's both light and dark."
Her words wrap around me, and for a moment, I feel a spark of something—comfort, perhaps. Or maybe just a sense of belonging, fleeting but real.
"Then what do I do? With all of this?" I gesture vaguely to everything around me, because there is no way to articulate what I am truly feeling. How do I finish what Regulus started?
"The family may have started you on this journey, but only you can decide where it ends." She gives my hand one last squeeze before letting go, her gaze soft but determined. It feels like a blessing, or perhaps a challenge, to see it through.
"And Draco… was he aware…"
"No." She answers truthfully, letting me see the concern my question raised. "The Dark Lord did task him to bring you here. He may suspect the part I play, as I counseled him to listen to his heart. However, we have never spoken about what Regulus and I had done."
It's suffocating, letting the information seep into my thoughts. But I also know, I need to shut this away, safe behind locked doors and walls in my mind. Bellatrix has been brutal in her assaults of my mind, and I can only imagine what Voldemort would be like as he tries to break through my mental defenses. It sheds new light on why Narcissa would not have told me anything sooner. I wasn't mentally ready to carry this secret, and more than my life would depend on my abilities now.
When we finally leave the sanctuary of Narcssia's receiving room, Lucius is there to greet us.
"Severus stopped the bleeding, Greyback will recover, albeit without full functionality in his arm." Lucius says with cold detachment.
Good, maybe it will help someone else evade a worse fate in the future. I think to myself.
"The Dark Lord would like to see you." Lucius says before turning and walking down the hallway, clearly expecting me to follow.
I steal a glance at Narcissa, and feel her worry prickles, before the mask she wears slides onto place and she strides forward. She's lived years hiding behind her mask, plotting and manipulating what she could… if she can do it, so can I.
Voldemort had been pleased with the news of River's success in her training. Bellatrix had painted a very pretty picture for him, regaling him of the full display of cunning and power River had wielded. When Lucius brought her to see him, he was effusive in his praise for her strategic prowess. He saw the girl before him visibly beam at the praise, silently applauding all their efforts to bring her into their fold.
She was his weapon to command. He thought gleefully.
AN: I have waited so long to reveal Narcissa's involvement. Hope you enjoyed it!