Sisters Three

For Narcissa, who had always loved merry holidays, it seemed to take forever until the first morning she woke up to find the ground covered with pure white snow. She waited impatiently until the day when she, Andromeda and Bellatrix got on the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas. All her gifts to her friends, her sister and her father were neatly packed in her trunk to be sent by owl or put under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve.

All three sisters were looking forwards to going home, mostly because it provided them with pleasant time to do whatever they wanted instead of studying all the time. But the train ride home was nothing but pleasant. Bellatrix had had a row with Rod before leaving and in anger she had snapped at Andromeda who hadn’t had a terrific day either. This led to them ignoring each other as well as they could. Narcissa tried to strike up conversations with both of them but since her sisters were more interested in being quiet and looking away from each other Narcissa ended up sulking as well, simply because they were.

The whole trip seemed to drag on forever until they reached King’s Cross. Without as much as a polite word to each other the sisters stepped off the train and loaded off their trunks. Narcissa struggled with hers, as it was too heavy for her. Normally she would ask Bellatrix to help her, but seeing as Bellatrix was busy being mad at everyone she decided not to. But she didn’t have to struggle with her trunk that long. Looking to her left, she saw two familiar faces coming towards them. Narcissa recognized them as Jameson and Baker, two of her father’s servants.

Her face, which has been characterized by a sulking look the entire train ride, lit up and all negative emotions were suddenly forgotten when she remember who was going to pick them up.

Father! Narcissa thought merrily and took one step forwards. Jameson and Baker greeted her and her sister politely, before starting to load the trunks on a trolley. Narcissa stood up on her tones looking for her father’s face among the crowd at the platform. Andromeda and Bellatrix stepped up next to her, no doubt that they were looking for their father as well.

To Narcissa’s great disappointment, she couldn’t spot her father anywhere. Casting one last look over her shoulder, she saw another familiar face coming towards her. But it wasn’t her father or someone that she would have been happy to see. She didn’t even attempt to hide her disappointment when she found herself standing face to face with Mrs Gable.

Mrs Gable was a tall, old woman wearing robes as grey as the hair that she had trapped inside a hair net. Her wrinkled skin was sickly pale and her eyes also grey. One could have thought that she was a black and white photo. She eyed the sisters with a look so sharp that it felt like it was cutting on their skin. Narcissa, forgetting about sulking and the tense train ride, moved a little closer to Bellatrix and instinctively grabbed her hand.

Maybe the sight of Mrs Gable made Bellatrix forget all about being angry because Narcissa felt her hand being squeezed lightly. Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed slightly and she reminded Narcissa of an animal who stood suspicious and alert in case danger was lurking around.

“Where’s father?” Andromeda asked in a civil but polite tone. She was the only one of the sisters who didn’t openly show her dislike of Mrs Gable.

“Mr Black sends his deepest apologies for not being able to come,” Mrs Gable told her in a dull voice. “He has travelled to Wiltshire and will not return until next week.”

Narcissa almost dropped her jaw when she heard Mrs Gable’s last words.

“Next week?” she repeated, utterly disbelieved. “But then he won’t be home for Christmas!”

Mrs Gable said nothing more. Andromeda looked disappointed as well, but she kept quiet and suddenly seemed very interested in fingering at the hem of her robe. Narcissa simply sighed and leaned her head slightly at Bellatrix’s arm. What fun would Christmas be like with their father gone and family incomplete?

“I will owl father as soon as possible,” Bellatrix said and sounded as if she didn’t believe Mrs Gable’s words. If she was aware of it, it didn’t seem like she cared. She walked over to Andromeda, pulling Narcissa with her. “Come, let’s get going.”

Without looking over their shoulder to make sure that Mrs Gable was coming with them, they began to walk towards the exit.

Dear Bellatrix,
I’m sorry but Mrs Gable is right. I cannot return home until my affairs here are finished. I cannot promise anything, but I will try to make it back as soon as I can. Give Andromeda and Narcissa my love.
-Father

Bellatrix sighed and folded the letter. Putting it down on her desk, she sat down on the next to it and stared at the letter with a mix of frustration and disappointment. Some Christmas it was going to be now that her father wasn’t going to be home for Christmas. The lack of a return date in the letter led to Bellatrix thinking that it was a subtle way of saying that he might not even be able to get home before they left Hogwarts.

A sudden pecking from her father’s owl on the back of her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts. She opened a drawer in her desk and found it filled with quills, inkbottles and blank parchments, stacked in a neat pile. She picked those that were closest to her and put them on the desk. As she unscrewed the lid to the inkbottle, she wondered what she was going write. A big part of her wanted to write and demand what business was keeping her father in Wiltshire, during Christmas of all days. But she knew that even if she did question him he would only respond with vague answers and in the end she still wouldn’t know anything.

Dipping the quill in the inkbottle, she took a moment to think about how to start letter. After a few seconds she lowered the quill to the parchment and started to write.

Dear father,
I understand your need to be away

She hoped that her father was smart enough to not take everything she wrote in the letter literally.

and so do Andromeda and Narcissa. I speak for them as well when I say that we hope that you will find a way to come home early. We will set a plate for you at Christmas dinner
-Bellatrix

She put the quill down and read through the short letter. A smile almost appeared on her lips as she thought about how one might think that she was a loyal and obedient daughter by reading that letter. When the ink had dried, she folded it and put it in an envelope.

“Demetrius!” she called, extending her right arm.

A tall and regal looking cat owl instantly flew towards her and settled obediently on the arm she had extended. Bellatrix attached the letter to the owl’s leg.

“Take this back to your master,” she ordered and got up from the chair. She walked over to the window and with her left arm she opened it. “Go!”

The owl fluttered its long wings and flew away from her and out the window. Bellatrix stayed there and watched the owl’s elegant form becoming smaller and smaller before it disappeared. Even when it was gone, she continued to stare at the darkness outside. While others feared darkness and what it brought, Bellatrix had enjoyed it for a long time. It was soothing to her and calmed her down whenever she needed to. There was nothing to fear in the darkness.

A sudden gust of wind blew into the room and brought light snowflakes with it. Shivering, Bellatrix backed away and shut it tightly, barricading the room from the cold. Once the window was closed, she took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair, an old habit that never seemed to die.

The cracking sounds from the small fireplace were the only sound in the room. Somewhat uncomfortable with the silence, Bellatrix left her room immediately. As soon as she opened the door and stepped out in the corridor, she heard muffled voices coming from somewhere in the house. Curious, she followed the sound of the voices and when she arrived at the stairs she realized that the voices came from the sitting room. She walked down the stairs quickly and once she had made it through the hallway she caught a glimpse of something tall and glittering in the sitting room. Upset voices came from there, hushed but they got louder and louder each second.

“Remove these... garments recently!”

“But we’ve spent hours putting them up!”

“Which is something you shouldn’t have done in the first place!”

Narcissa and Mrs Gable, Bellatrix thought, recognizing their voices. Judging by the tone of their voices, they were having one of those disagreements that Bellatrix had heard so much about. She quickly took the last few steps and reached the wide doorway where she quietly stood to observe what was going on.

The sitting room seemed much brighter and colourful than it was last time Bellatrix had seen it, which was just after they got home. The walls, which were covered by a dark green wallpaper and paintings of relatives from their father’s side, had been lit up by little stars made of paper. They had been charmed to make each star emit a faint glow but since there were so many Bellatrix felt like she was staring right into a spot light. Red and green stripes were tied around miscellanous things around the room, including a gloomy looking statue of a knight that now looked more like a colourful mummy. The knight statues occasionally move and tried to cut the stripes off him but all the centuries of being an overlooked, decorative object had gotten to him as he was too stiff to move.

The tall glittering thing that Bellatrix had seen out in the hallway turned out to be a Christmas tree. At least it was shaped like one. It was so covered with glittery and different decorations that she wondered if it was possible to even see a green spot on it. Standing near the Christmas tree were Andromeda and Narcissa. Dozens of box filled with glittering and colourful objects were spread around them. Mrs Gable was standing a few feet away from them, glaring furiously at all the merry and bright decorations as if they were cursed objects.

“You can’t tell us what to do,” Andromeda said to Mrs Gable resentfully. No one except for Bellatrix herself seemed to be aware of the presence in the room.

“Oh yes, I can!” Mrs Gable shouted back.

“What’s going on here?”

Bellatrix’s strong and clear voice made a sharp contrast to Mrs Gable’s high pitched one. She left her safe place at the doorway and stepped between her sisters and Mrs Gable. Crossing her arms, she looked at Mrs Gable with defiance.

“Well?”

“Your sisters, miss Black,” Mrs Gable said, empathizing every word. “...have insisted on decorating the house with this...” She made a wild gesture towards the places where Andromeda and Narcissa had put up the decorations. “...rubbish.”

How dare you?! Bellatrix almost yelled. Her brows almost connected in a deep frown as she looked at Mrs Gable. How dared Mrs Gable to be so bold to treat her sisters this way? Yes, the room was perhaps a little over decorated but she was a servant. Nothing but a servant whose sole purpose was to obey the orders of the master and mistresses in the house.

The lack of a proper mistress or master around the house has made her forget that, Bellatrix thought angrily.

“And that’s bad because...?” Bellatrix inquired, struggling not to lash out and yell at Mrs Gable. She would handle this, not like an immature child but as the mistress of the house. Mrs Gable stared at her, whether she was feeling surprise or anger Bellatrix didn’t know or cared about.

“May I remind you...” Mrs Gable began, pausing for a while as if trying to control herself. “That Mr Black hired me to take care and be in charge of you while you...”

“Yes, hired,” Bellatrix cut off rather rudely. “My father hired you to take care of my sister when I left for school. Your limited authority in this house doesn’t apply to me and since my father is gone I’m in charge of this household.”

Bellatrix was surprised how cold and mature she could sound when she wanted to. Her lips curved into a cold yet amused smile.

“I say that we keep the decorations and that my sisters can do whatever they want with this house,” she decided. “Now run along and do a chore or something, Mrs Gable. Isn’t that what we pay you for?”

Mrs Gable’s face turned so red that it could almost blended in with a giant, red sock that hung near the fireplace. She breathed heavily in anger and opened her mouth to say something. But no words came out and she closed her mouth again. Without a word Mrs Gable turned around and quickly fled the sitting room. Once she was out of hearing range, both Narcissa and Andromeda burst into laughter. Bellatrix couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride.

“Did you see the look on her face?” Narcissa laughed. “She was about to explode!”

“She deserved every word of it,” Andromeda said righteously and gave Bellatrix a quick hug. "You’re the only one who dares to say such things to her face, Bella.”

“She’s an old, ugly squib,” Bellatrix murmured, sitting down on the soft carpet. She dragged on of the boxes to her and began to look through the contents. “Just hex her or something next time she behaves like that... it’s not like she can hex you back. You can’t let a servant walk over you like that.”

Narcissa sat down next to Bellatrix, half burying her head in the long, dark river that was Bellatrix’s hair.

“I’m too afraid to yell at her,” she confessed. “I did that last year when she forced me to eat those horrible peas and she yelled back at me. She threatened throw out all my things and said all kinds of nasty things.”

“You don’t need to be afraid of her when we’re around,” Bellatrix said, ruffling Narcissa’s hair lightly. Narcissa smiled vaguely and hugged her sister briefly before continuing with decorating the sitting room.

She dreamt of rapid flashes of green light and cruel laughter so familiar that she could have mistaken it for her own. Something twitched and twitched, she couldn’t see what it was but it kept twitching. In her dream, she was surrounded by what felt like fabric. It was dark, soft and kept caressing her cold body as the wind blew. Then she suddenly found herself standing in the Slytherin common room with all the other Slytherins in her year. Rod was holding a wand that belonged to her. It was broken in several pieces and it was no doubt that he was the one who had broken it. The wand suddenly became whole again on it’s own just so that she could have something to whack Rod on his head with.

And she woke up.

Her eyes lids fluttered and opened, heavy from several hours of sleep. Bellatrix cast a look on the clock that was hanging on the wall to her left. It was 4 a.m. Closing her eyes again, she shifted her position slightly and pulled the covers closer to her. She wanted to go back to the dream and to warm sleep. But it was too late. An hour later she was still awake, only now the heaviness in her eyelids had disappeared and she was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling.

I can’t sleep, she finally admitted to herself. Lazily rolling off her bed, she reached out and grabbed a deep red robe, which conveniently hung over a chair. Half an hour later, she carefully closed the door to her room behind her. Although she wore her slippers, the cold of the hard stone floor seemed to go right through them and she shivered. Bellatrix drew the robe closer around her and her pace quickened as she decided to quickly go to the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate. But as she reached the staircase, something changed.

The silence, which had been so constant and calming, was suddenly cut by a scream so loud and agonizing that it could have woken everyone up and had them feeling an unexplained, intense fear.

Bellatrix froze as she was about to head down the stairs. Her entire body seemed to tense and a chilling rush ran all the way down her spine at the very sound of the scream. In the corner of her eyes she could see shadows moving and dancing along the wall, although her mind convinced her that it was only the moonlight casting it’s poor light against trees in the wind. But the moving shadows, so eerie and erratic in their movements caused her to turn around and watch them, bewildered as the scream went on, crying out in pain and agony.

A cry from hell, she suddenly found herself thinking and it was only then that she snapped out of her sudden fascination with the shadows and realized that the screaming had not ceased.

Without a moment’s thought, Bellatrix spun around and dashed down the hallway. Feet moving as fast as they could and eyes focused on any unordinary detail she could find, she turned left and towards the direction where she thought the scream came from. The hallways seemed so much longer and difficult to run through and as the scream suddenly died down Bellatrix bit her bottom lip and forced herself to run faster.

But upon running around the last corner she stopped abruptly as she faced nothing but the dark plainness of the wall. She had reached a dead end.

There was nothing there, save for a large window and a lonely painting that had dropped from the wall to the floor. It lay there upside down with the back up and the actual painting facing down. Although Bellatrix didn’t have to see the front of the painting to know what it was, she had passed that hallway and stood by the window too many times to forget whom the painting portrayed.

Desdemona Black... her mother.

Bellatrix slowly took the first step towards the painting. She didn’t know what it was, but something inside her held her back and told her to be on guard. Maybe it was the darkness, the dancing shadows or simply the lightning that started to crack the sky as she neared the painting. She stared at the back of the painting and at the dark wooden frame that had been polished to perfection. There was nothing unusual about the painting and on top of that it was a painting of the mother that Bellatrix had held so dear the first eight years old her life. If anything she should have felt comforted upon knowing that it was a painting of her mother.

Yet her fingers trembled and her mouth felt dry as she bent down cautiously turned the painting up.

The sound of wood against the floor echoed through the hallway as Bellatrix flipped the painting over and then quickly drew back from it. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to fall and make quiet but noticeable sounds as they make contact with the roof. A strong wind moved the branches of a tree that stood right next to the window and the shadows on the walls danced again. Bellatrix, whose breath had quicken a little for no reason, cursed herself before being so stupid and silly to be startled. There was nothing unusual about the painting.

...or was it?

Bellatrix slowly edged closer to the painting, almost crawling her way over there to take a closer look. When looking from a safe distance, there appeared to be nothing wrong with the painting. It portrayed her mother, sitting on a stone bench in the gardens with a piece of embroidery in her hands. The sunlight shone directly on her and it was as if Desdemona had been blessed by the divine powers as she sat there on the bench. Everything had been painted so bright and peaceful that it seemed impossible for it to give anyone anything but a sense of peace and tranquillity when they looked at it.

But then again, it was from a safe distance.

It was impossible to see Desdemona’s face from a safe distance. It was impossible to see those haunting and insane eyes, the tangled mess that was once a gather of dark brown hair locks and her white skin that had been destroyed by bleeding scratches and marks. The white dress that she had torn apart herself, the erratic pattern on her sewing, the gory symbols on her embroidery and her twitching movements as she rocked back and forth. It was impossible to hear those eerie words that she murmured without every taking her eyes off the embroidery.

“...ugly... so disgusting...”

Bellatrix felt sick to her stomach listening and seeing that. This was not the mother she had remembered, not the proud and beautiful woman she had strived to be like when she was little. What was this? What had happened to the painting that had once been Bellatrix’s comfort after her mother’s death?

“...how dare she show her face... ugly...”

She wanted to scream at the painting to stop, to stop looking so haunted and to stop murmuring those nonsense words. Her mouth opened slightly to speak but no words came out.

“...ugly... DISGRACE!!”

The last word was screamed which such ferocity and at the same time Desdemona’s face seemed to transform into something far more horrible. Her face was distorted and twisted beyond recognition, like it was melting together and yet stretched out at the same time. Her eyes turned into dark flaming orbs and blood dripped down in rich amounts from them, as if they were crimson tears.

Scared and frightened, Bellatrix fell back and let out a cry out fear. She crawled backwards, panicking and wanting to get as far away from the horrible face of her mother as she could. The shadows grew around her, no longer dancing but engulfing everything in its way. She felt dizzy and her arms failed to support her as she helplessly slumped down to the cold floor. Her eyelids felt heavy and although resisting at first, she gave into the urge to close her eyes.

“...Bella? Bella!”

The sound of her name being called several times caused Bellatrix to abruptly open her eyes again and sit up. The first thing she saw was the painting lying on the floor. It was as if she had imagined the whole thing, Desdemona looked as happy and serene as she normally did in the painting. Her face was once again rosy and fair and her hands working diligently on embroidery of roses. The distorted face, the torn dress and the twitching was all gone.

“Bella? Are you okay?”

Bellatrix turned her head to her left upon hearing the voice and saw Andromeda kneeling down next to her, wearing a thick cotton nightdress. Seeing her sister’s eyes full of concern and acknowledging the fact that her heart was still pounding rather fast made Bellatrix somewhat angry with herself for being scared.

“I’m alright,” Bellatrix murmured and got up on her feet. She looked at the painting again, as if to assure herself that the distorted and twisted version of her mother’s face was no longer there.

“Are you sure?” Andromeda asked.

She turned to the painting as well and after a while slowly walked towards it and picked it up. Bellatrix could see a faint smile on Andromeda’s face as she hung up the painting on the wall again. Obviously Andromeda had not heard or seen what Bellatrix had.

“What’s going on?”

The sound of footsteps alerted them both of another one’s presence in the hallway. They turned around and saw Mrs Gable’s tall and wide form a few yards away. She was holding a lantern with a single lit candle inside that provided her with light since she had no wand or ability to perform the Lumos spell. As Mrs Gable came closer, Bellatrix noted how dishevelled her night robes were and wondered if her scream had woken her up and drawn her to this hallway.

“Just out for a little walk,” Bellatrix responded quickly.

Andromeda had opened her mouth to answer, probably with the truth. But she saw the look on Bellatrix’s face and decided that it was best for both of them that she kept quiet and played along. Mrs Gable raised a brow and looked terribly suspicious. While Andromeda quivered slightly at the thought of what would come next, she had forgotten Bellatrix’s place in the household and the very useful authority she had over Mrs Gable.

“We’re going back to sleep now,” Bellatrix announced and roughly grabbed Andromeda’s wrist.

She proudly walked past Mrs Gable without as much as a “Good night” and dragged Andromeda with her. Although Andromeda didn’t mind getting away from the old nanny, she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused Bellatrix to get so scared and why she had yet to tell her anything about it. After a while they entered Andromeda’s room, which was the first of the bedrooms that they got to.

“Hey...” Bellatrix started just as Andromeda opened the door to her room. She even surprised herself with the soft tone of her voice. “Um... would it be okay if I could sleep in there tonight? My room is cold... the window won’t shut properly.”

“Sure,” Andromeda answered immediately.

Not for a moment did she believe what Bellatrix had just said. Yet she let Bellatrix think that and promised herself to not ask anything until Bellatrix told her herself. As Andromeda went to bed, she thought that if something had happened that was enough to scare her older sister, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to know what it was.