A Box Full Of Sharp Objects || Bellatrix & Narcissa
She caught the sound of her sisterās voice in the dark again. It was steadier then, lacking the panic that had frightened Narcissa only moments before. She felt the urge to ask Bella about what she was really doing there, about what could possibly have motivated her to hide in the dark in Hogsmeade and ask for help from a passing stranger when she would surely have known how to deal with an inferi by herself. Yet, she knew better than to ask questions she didnāt want an answer to. There were whispers of her sisterās accomplishments in the corners of the manor. Narcissa always left before the bloodier parts of the tales, imagining them to be rumors that circulated amongst the death eaters, as meaningless as the elaborate ones about the battle between the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore.
It was far harder to remain blind than it had been before the inferi broke out and her home became a shelter, it was far easier when she wasnāt forced to deal with the grittier parts of their cause. Our cause, she reminded herself, our cause.
āI donāt think theyāve managed to reach this part just yet. The protective spells must still be working.ā Regaining her composure, she turned her head towards the direction the voice was coming from, walking towards it while waiting for her sister to step out of the shadows. āIf they did, Iām sure we would hear all about it from the transmissions with the crass jokes.ā There was a hint of disdain in her voice when she spoke of it. As if she herself didnāt obsessively listen to transmissions, patiently waiting for the announcement of a cure. Or perhaps of the reappearance of a man named Lucius Malfoy.āI was on my way to the apothecary. Dracoās teeth are growing and he wonāt stop crying.ā She knew that it was more than likely that they wouldnāt have anything that could help, but the prospect of being completely useless while her son was in pain was terrifying
And there it was, the name of the child which Narcissa doted on. When it came to herself, Bellatrix didn't understand why anybody would want the responsibility of a child, in fact she didn't understand why anyone would want a child at all. While she knew that they carried on the legacy which their parents would leave behind, she also understood all the evil they can bring, all the dark days, with only a flicker of good. While Draco was her nephew, there was no love loss between them. Bellatrix Lestrange saw him as one thing and one thing only: a future Death Eater, someone to follow the Dark Lord when he returns and someone to pledge their life to the family. She didn't see him as her nephew, she didn't have the bond which most family members would have with a new born. In actual fact, Bellatrix couldn't care less about her nephew if she tried.
With her nephew being the one thing on her sisters mind, Bellatrix couldn't helpbut be angry, she couldn't help the urge to slap her sister. All of this and more were every emotion she felt when her nephew was in her procimity or mentioned, both inside the manor and out. "God, can you stop going on about that bastard for one second!" she snapped, and she meant it. Bellatrix Lestrange didn't say anything that she didn't mean, and everybody knew that.
