toujourspursisters-blog

[toujourspursisters-blog]

    When Bellatrix properly looked up at her, Belladonna noticed how wide her pupils were, how unused to the light they were. She could only imagine how close to blind she would feel in real sunlight. But still, even with her pupils so wide it made her eyes look black, she could still see little miss Bella Black in them.

   She pulled her into a standing position as she laughed “I would follow no one, but I help those who promise to rid me of muggles” she said, feeling her suddenly lean on her and lick her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment before turning her face to look at her, smirking slowly.

    “And soon, I will tell you just how different I truly am, little snake” she promised, wrapping an arm around her waist. “For now, we must leave” she said, though didn’t seem worried. “Will you need my help to walk?”

Reluctantly Bellatrix nodded. This hell-hole wasn't exactly a hotel, she couldn't remember the last time she ate a proper meal, or even the last time she got up and walked about. Not that it mattered in here. Not that it mattered when all she had to get her through were her crazy thoughts of revenge – any goodness she felt inside died with the presence of the dementors.

“You aren't just a witch are you?”

Don’t Tell The Dark Lord || toujourspursisters

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   A strange feeling she had never had before seemed to be building inside of her, similar to the sensation of boiling water. She watched as their prolonged eye contact finally broke and the blonde walked into a book store a little ways away. What was all of that about? Why was she staring at her? Should she introduce herself? Should she let it go.

    If Belladonna was anything, it was curious about things she didn’t understand, since she knew most things. She turned away from the dress in the window and looked up at the name of the book store before making her way through the crowded street into the store the blonde had vanished into. She wanted to know why she was staring, and one way or another, she would find out.

    She made her way into the book store, to find that there were so many books inside they were stacked up on the floor. She raised a brow, looking around and not seeing the blonde, was she in a back corner somewhere? She wandered through the store before she ended up towards the back, sensing something near by. She walked into an aisle quietly to see the blonde with her back to her, smirking a bit as she walked quietly towards her before leaning on the book shelf.

    “I saw you staring” she said plainly.

Narcissa had no idea just what about this woman made her feel this way, but the bubbling in the pit her her stomach was a pleasant sensation she hadn't had since she was a teenager. It scared and exhilarated her at the same time. Just a small connection, just a look, that was all it took to make her feel like a person again.

Still she was a married witch, and a Malfoy now. Appearances were everything.

So why didn't she ignore the woman when she followed her into the bookshop?

Why did she turn around to look at her again?

Why did the same sickly feeling burn at her insides?

“My apologies, I didn't mean to stare.”

Alive Again

[toujourspursisters-blog]

    That same cackle from many years ago had only become more wicked, and it made her grin “It’s been many years since I heard that title” she teased. She stepped over the fallen stone and walked into the stone, ignoring the smells inside. She had been through torture in her life, many kinds of torture in fact, but never torture like this, she would never let herself be in a place like this.

    She stood in front of her former student and held out the hand that wasn’t on fire. “Come along Miss Black, The Dark Lord sent me for you” she said, resisting the urge to call him Tom, though it was how she still saw him. She still saw a troubled young boy in him, even if no one else did.

    She grinned down at her, her dark eyes meeting those of the other. “I am to take you home with me, to clean you and feed you before you are taken to him” she said, wiggling her fingers. “Let’s go” she said.

Bellatrix looked up through the fire in Belladonna's hand and met her eyes. It was the first set of human eyes she had looked at for years, and Merlin were they beautiful.

For a moment she became lost. Forgetting who she herself even was. She had always admired her professor, but had never imagined her to be the one to rescue her. She had also never imagined her to follow the Dark Lord.

“You?” she laughed, amused and bemused. Still, Bellatrix took the hand offered to her. “You are following him! Such a powerful witch, such a powerful little-”

Bellatrix stopped, pulled herself up and leaned close to Belladonna – licking the other woman's cheek.

“You're different aren't you?”

Don’t Tell The Dark Lord || toujourspursisters

[toujourspursisters-blog]

    It was a strange world, the Wizarding world, so unlike her own. It was a world where you had to say made up words to light a simple fire or wave a stick at something to get it to move. A world where they taught magic in schools instead of the practice being taught by a parent to their child, a world where they lived underground in whole communities, where they lived by rules. Belladonna was never one for rules, she liked to do as she pleased; what she wanted, when she wanted and with whom she wanted. That was just how she was programmed.

    She was trying her best to get a feel of this strange world by walking around Diagon Alley, a place of magical trade she had only recently become familiar with. It was interesting to her to see how other magical beings lived their lives, even ones like this who were basically mortals in the eyes of someone like her.

     She walked past several cages hung at chest height that held owls, her eyes landing on a black one with fierce eyes and a regal note about it. She smiled at it, almost as if seeing herself within its eyes. She didn’t have money of this world yet, and she would have to become familiar with it before she could conjure it. She would be sure to come back for this owl, for she found it strange and beautiful, much like herself.

    She walked a few more feet before stopping in front of a store window and looking up at a dress in the window, still modern but oddly not. It reminded her a bit of a casual dress she would wear in the 1800s. She wasn’t much of a fan of modern clothes.

    But, as she studied the dress in the window, she suddenly got that feeling. The feeling she never knew if it was magic or instinct, the one that told her if she was being watched or followed. She looked around herself for a moment, before her eyes landed on a blonde a few feet away who was standing in front of another store. Standing and staring at her.

    Chocolate orbs met Cerulean ones, a small shiver running down her spine, a feeling she was unfamiliar with. And for a moment, they just stood staring at each other in the middle of a crowd. 

Something about the woman was different. There was an air about her that drew Narcissa in, one she had once noticed on Bellatrix except this was ten times stronger. Who was she? Almost everyone in the wizarding community at least recognised one another – she certainly wasn't like her that was for sure.

For a moment she imagined herself crossing the street and actually introducing herself to her. But she didn't, of course she didn't. Good pure-blood women like her didn't act so – common. And if Lucius knew...

Narcissa snapped herself out of it and lowered her head almost shamefully, walking on to Flourish and Blotts. She could at least pretend to want another book for the Malfoy family library.

Alive Again

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In Bellatrix's life, her one and only true love had been Tom Riddle. Tom, who turned into the Dark Lord. He who she would kill for, die for, over and over gladly. He who she had spent a decade rotting for. He who had drove her into madness.

But madness wasn't what she would call it. No, this was loyalty and trust. This was what her twisted father had made her and what her blood-traitor sister drove her to.

No matter who shunned her, or hurt her, or doubted her. Bellatrix held faith in the Dark Lord and she held faith in her own beliefs. She knew he wouldn't let her die here, and that was the only thing that kept her from completely breaking.

When the wall to her cell came crumbling down, of course she cowered away like a frightened child. Her imagination told her it would be him. He would be the one to be standing there amidst the rubble and smoke. He would be the one to save her.

But the voice she heard was not his, and when her eyes focused on the figure in the dark it wasn't him.

“Wh-” she stopped herself from asking the question. She would recognise that voice anywhere – even now.

“Professor!” Bellatrix cackled out of glee.

Don’t Tell The Dark Lord || toujourspursisters

      Belladonna was not one for doing anything for others, was not one for caring about the causes and missions of anyone other than herself. She didn’t care about anyone or anything, and that was how she liked it. She was the definition of a selfish monster, and that was how it always had been. But, she knew very well how to use people, she knew very well how to make people believe she was on their side and believed in them; being beautiful and powerful had a way of making lying easy for you, especially when you’ve been at it for hundreds of years like she had. 

     Belladonna lived in a world of witches and wizards she had nothing in common with, ones who might as well have been mortals to her, or muggles as they called it-a word she found rather stupid. They couldn’t do magic without a wand, while she had been using free hand magic since Viking days. She didn’t understand the point of them really, for what they needed a spell and a tick to do she could do without even lifting a finger. Such a fact made her a very desirable person within the wizarding community, by both the good and the evil. 

      She had played for the side of the good for a while out of boredom, learning about their world simply to give herself something to do in a time when the world almost seemed to lack interesting chaos. And as a result, she had become a teacher at a school called Hogwarts, teaching the only subject she found interesting-Defense Against The Dark Arts. During her time at the school, everyone who was both student and staff feared her. They feared her for not needing a wand, they feared her because they knew so little of her, they feared her because she was a demon who walked among men; because they could feel she was dangerous. 

     There had always been one student though, one who never seemed to fear her, though she never knew the reason. A student from Slytherin, a strange girl with black hair and brown eyes, one with a cackled laugh and a sadistic attitude who was always followed around by a young blonde girl she always assumed was her sister. Bellatrix Black, the student obsessed with Tom Riddle who excelled in her class. 

    Belladonna watched the Black child grow with each year, until she was no longer a child but a woman. Her hair got longer, her eyes went from mischievous to harrowing, truly growing up. She continued to follow the young Riddle boy, and continued to be followed around by a girl who almost resembled a porcelain doll, but Bellatrix became something else all together. Dark, unruly, and truly strange. Belladonna could almost see herself in the young woman, the darkness radiating off of her feeling ever so familiar.

     And as such, Bellatrix quickly became Belladonna’s favorite student, one she would catch herself looking at sometimes during class and wondering if she would always be as deliciously dark, if her potential would ever be truly recognized outside of this school. But, she wouldn’t have the chance to find out first hand. People were starting to notice that Belladonna wasn’t aging, starting to question her and accuse her of using magic on her appearance. So, in the middle of when young Miss Black was in her seventh year of school, she left without a word and never returned to the school

    Through out the next few years as she moved through different parts of Europe, she heard through the grape vine of the workings of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, realizing quite quickly that Voldemort was her old student Tom and that his henchmen were all former students of hers, leading her to believe Bellatrix had followed in his footsteps and become one of them. Her suspicions were confirmed as many in the wizarding world spoke of Bellatrix LeStrange, her married name leading her to believe she had been married off after she graduated, of how cruel and demented she was. And in all honesty, she was proud of her pupil, of the evil she was accomplishing. 

     Years went on, and things seemed to tilt in another direction. Voldemort vanished, Bellatrix was sent to prison, Death Eaters scattered and life went on as if nothing was happening. At least, that was until rumors of Voldemort’s return started floating around, making her question the credibility of some people. But, the day she woke up to an owl at her window made her think differently. She hadn’t received a letter by owl in years, and how would anyone even know where to find her? 

     Everything after happened in a blur, Tom requesting her return to London so he may offer her a business proposal. He promised her that if she fought for him if she stood on his side, they would bring the mortal reign to an end. It peeked her interest, for if there was one thing she hated it was muggles, having favored pure blooded wizards. It was funny to her really, since she knew for a fact Tom was born a half blood with a muggle father, but it seemed as if he had forgotten that himself. 

      She didn’t believe in Tom, she didn’t believe in anyone but herself. But he didn’t need to know that. In the end, if it got rid of non-magical people, she didn’t care what she had to do. So, with her fingers mentally crossed behind her back, she swore her allegiance to The Dark Lord, though refused to take his mark. She wondered oddly if he feared her, since she could kill him and all of his followers with the snap of her fingers. She was more powerful than him, and all of his followers knew it.

     She spent months in his service and as one of his most trusted since many of his followers were imprisoned, killing for him and spying on the Potter boy for him. But then, the day came, when he gave her a special order. Break Bellatrix LeStrange out of Azkaban Prison. 

      And that was how she ended up here, standing outside the building after having just set over two dozen Dememtors ablaze. 

     She smiled a little at what she knew laid inside, not just her former student but the law breakers inside. “Oh this should be fun” she said. She imagined Bellatrix’s reaction and knowing she was being broken out, she imagined her reaction to seeing that in the twenty years since she left the school, she hadn’t aged at all, she imagined how she must have changed since she was a teenager. Oh yes, this was worth joining a half blood in battle.

     Getting upstairs had been a blur of fire and screaming, of dead Dementors and dead wizard guards. She made it up to a long hall of cells, of screams and the smell of blood, how interesting. 

      She looked from side to side at each cell, small slots in each door to see inside. So many people she didn’t know, and so many she had taught. She finally made it to a large door at the end of the hall and knew it had to be her. She smirked, holding her hand up palm out to the door, watching it shake and the stone begin to crack. 

     Before long, the door crumbled into rubble, though she never moved out of its way, and it never hit her. She peered inside the darkness, holding her hand up as it caught fire so she may see inside, and so the woman inside may see her. She grinned darkly at the dark haired woman huddled into the corner, she would know that mess of curls anywhere. 

     “Come along Miss Black, we have chaos to cause, and you are wasting time by cowering” she said, her tone smooth and low. Oh yes, this would be fun. 

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Alive Again

In dreams she was free to so as she wished, to be who she wished to be. In her dreams Narcissa didn't have to answer to her father, or Lucius Malfoy. She didn't have to be a precious daughter or subservient wife. In her dreams she was real.

Except that was all they were, and Merlin did she know it was folly to ponder upon them.

She'd been married to Lucius only a year now. He wanted a son, an heir. Despite this want Narcissa was lucky enough for him to have other distractions, like the Dark Lord – the same hedonist her very own sister followed.

Bells, her Bella was more fanatic than their father now. Narcissa lost her before the wedding. She lost her as soon as she left Hogwarts. She lost her Bella and Andy, the only two people in the world who had mattered to her had both left her.

Betrayed her.

So all she had was her dreams. And in them she didn't need her sisters or anybody else. In her dreams she was alive.

Each day felt like a chore. Each waking moment she spent in falsehood. Her whole life was fake now. Her whole being – pointless.

The last thing she expected was for her dreams to come true. However sometimes the last things she expected came true. Even on another pointless, fake, mundane day.

Lucius was meeting with his new found friends. Narcissa didn't want to spend another day alone in the big empty manor, and so decided to head to Diagon Alley – perhaps to spend some of Lucius' money on some new dress robes, or furniture, or something else neither of them truly needed.

That was when she saw her for the first time and realised life was perhaps worth living.

@xfireandsin