And Love Above All Else

The house was still, drowned in silence. Tiny bits of dust danced on the cold marble floor of corridors that once seemed to have no end. Moved by the wind's invisible hand, they swirled like the enchanted snow once had, right before some forgotten Christmas Eve.

The heavy curtains whispered words that stirred an old memory in her mind. A dark cloud of moth-eaten velvet, touched by no one for years. With a moan it finally gave up its fight and was drawn up to reveal nothing but an ink black sky - that itself seemed ancient and moth-eaten that night.

She sat in one of the torn armchairs in front of a dark fireplace with no fire roaring. It, too, seemed to be whispering. The echo of many crackling fires it once seen was sent into the proud silence of the musty house.

The house of my fathers, when did it come to this?

And she sat, and she listened. Waited for footsteps she knew that would not be heard. No one will come. Because there is no one left.

Why have I come here?

And so she sat, no need to turn around, no need to look at what is left of what once seemed magnificent beyond a child's reach. She could tell what stood where even with her eyes closed and with her senses dulled by the overpowering gloom of the house that held her childhood hopes, ideals, dreams.

When did we grow up?

Fears and struggles of adolescence were there, too. Though the pride and dignity of her adult life belonged in a different place, belonged to a single man - a man she has come to love and respect above all. A man that was now facing a different kind of coldness and despair...

When did it all change?

She had her own responsibilities - a little child, a husband who needed her support. Her sister... she always wanted more. Simple things were not enough. When her baby boy was born, her sister's mind was on something completely different than acting the responsible godmother. The ability to change was probably the only thing that none of the Blacks could master. And without change, there can only be decay.

Is everything lost then?

She got up from the armchair and silently moved back to the window - now a patch of darkness framed with carved wood and heavy curtains. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see a single thing, not even a distant outline nor some blurred shape. Is this a window to the backyard, or is it a window to her future?

It cannot be.

They had to be strong, she had to be strong, especially now. And strength was one of their most prized features.

"In a true Black," her father used to say, "strength never faltered. Where there is pride, there is strength."

"Toujours pur." Bellatrix's reply brought a proud smile to his face.

Would he still be proud if he saw her now?

Of course he would. Or would he...?

"How will it all end..." she whispered into the silence.

"Like it always had, little sister."

She stood still. At first, she thought it was the gloom of the house and her tired mind that plays tricks on her. But that could not be. Isn't that why she had come there in the first place? Hasn't she hoped she'll find her there? After thirteen years... She longed for and dreaded that moment. But she knew she had to come, knew she had to meet her.

"We'll lie still, lick our wounds in silence, without complaints," --She heard her moving closer--"wait for our time to rebuild this world to match out dreams." There was still pride in her voice... and something else.

Narcissa turned to face a person she hasn't seen in years. Something like a fleeting shadow of a grin flashed through her sister's face.

"Dreams..." the black-haired woman repeated in a distant voice. "You always had plenty of them," she added in a whisper.

"Bellatrix."

"Narcissa."

For a few seconds they surveyed each other. Misty grey on stone cold grey--so alike and yet not the same. Their eyes had no problems with seeing the changes that time, and many other things, despair among them, had wrought on them both. And so much has changed...

"Why have you come, Bellatrix?" Narcissa said, struggling to keep her perfect composure.

Merlin, what have they done to you...

"Thought I'd say hello." Her sister's gaze was fixed on her. "Though it's probably me who should ask that, seeing as this is still my house."

You have no idea, Bellatrix's eyes seemed to reply her silent question.

"Are you going to stay...?" The interest in Narcissa's voice sounded sincere.

They took away everything you had...

"Not tonight. Not yet." To anyone else, this could almost sound like a threat.

Not everything, little one.

Underneath their words, a second conversation was taking place. There was no possibility of hiding a secret, not between them. They knew each other too well. The years that were stolen from them could not take that away. Their eyes saw everything - the pain behind each single line on the prematurely aged face, the sorrow hidden under a cool expression, fear under self-confidence, despair under pride...

After a few seconds, the silence became tense.

"I think I'll go then," Narcissa said with a sigh. "It's late."

Too late, the saddnes in her eyes added that which she dared not say aloud.

"No need to, little sister. It is me who always leaves, remember?"

Go ahead, ask, a whisper in Bellatrix's eyes added.

Narcissa turned away with a slight smile.

"Yes." How could she not smile, thinking of all the times her older sister had run away from home, claiming stubbornly she won't return, just to quietly slip back into her room a couple of nights later. "I remember."

She always wanted more than anyone could give her. She was the brave one, the rebellous one. The one Narcissa looked up to, and one she would probably envy, if it wasn't for Lucius.

Lucius...

"I won't bother you with my presence," Bellatrix said from behind her. "I'm already a bit more than, what was the expression," she added as if tasting the sound of words, "Ah, fashionably late, anyway."

Just ask.

Narcissa closed her eyes. A question formed in her mind. Or was it there already? Was it there all the time, all these hours during which she sat and waited. Waited for Bellatrix, her mind burning with a single quesion she had to ask. But now that she stood there, her sister waiting patiently, like a dark statue in the midst of the ancient house, she couldn't do it. She didn't want to know...

Quiet footsteps told her that her sister wasn't going to wait untill she made up her mind. She never had. Narcissa opened her eyes. She had to know.

"I--"

The footsteps stopped abruptly.

"Yes?" Bellatrix's voice sounded slightly hoarse from disuse. Or was it something else?

Narcissa turned to face her sister. She was standing by the door, with her hand already on the silver doorknob.

"It's been many years, Bella."

The dark-haired woman took her hand off the serpent doorknob almost hesitantly and slowly turned. She looked straight into Narcissa's eyes. Was it triumph that burned in them?

"Too many..." Narcissa shook her head, dropping her gaze in saddness. Any other person would be crying now. But she never cried.

Her sister took a few steps and stopped right in front of her. Face to face, eye upon eye, there was no turning back. Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes asked the question for her.

"That place..." For the first time in her life, she could swear that there was the slightest echo of fear in her sister's voice, "it destroys everything. " Her voice shook. "And love above all else."

Narcissa nodded. No more words were needed. The conversation was over.

"Thank you."

She saw her sister turn and leave quietly into the darkness, leaving her alone. Just like she always did.

But her words lingered, echoing in Narcissa's mind.

That place... It destroys everything.

She shuddered. That place was not one she wanted to think about. But now...

A prisoner of your own mind - that's what she was told while still a child. That's what you became if left alone in that dark place.

And love above all else.

Her sister's words were running through her veins, bringing a sudden coldness to her heart, etching a mark of fear on her every thought.

And love above all else...

That will never happen, she will not allow it to. She'll do what she has to do, but she will not allow it.

She'll lie still. Lick her wounds in silence, without complaints. Wait for her time to rebuild that little world to match her dreams.

I always had plenty of them, she thought, stepping out into the darkness.