Title: Amphierotic Bloodlines
Author: Sapphire Smoke
Beta(s): supershineygirl on LJ (chapter two only), DolfynRider (chapter three and onwards)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Main Pairing: Bellatrix/Narcissa
Sub Pairings: Narcissa/Lucius, Narcissa/OC, Bellatrix/OC, Bellatrix/Rodolphus
Summary: Growing up in the 1960s in a family that expected nothing less than perfection, anything less than such was deemed unfit for a young woman of their status and was punished severely. A house that was classified as 'noble' had dark secrets hidden within those walls, a fear that only the people within experienced. The confusion young girls have growing up was more than intensified in there: it bordered on practically unbearable. This is a story about growing up, about surviving abuse, and about finding salvation and love from anyone you can, even if it's from the last person on earth you know you should ever hold a deep affection for.
Warning(s): This story runs the risk of being triggering for some people with graphic child abuse, dubcon, forced miscarriage, addiction, and anorexia nervosa. Other warnings include lesbian incest, sex between minors, and character death (minor). Read at your own risk.
A/N: For NaNoWriMo 2010. This story is entirely from Narcissa's POV (though not in first person) and will only include up to her graduation from Hogwarts. There will be a sequel later to cover her adult years, but for now I think this is more than enough; my word count on this is already bordering on insanity. Please note this story includes both het and femslash sex scenes.
People always talk about the moment they knew they'd fallen in love. It could be something as simple as a look, a touch, a shy smile. It could also be something grander, something more obvious, like someone showing overwhelming compassion towards you, or some kind of epic gesture of romance with flowers and a poem. Narcissa had neither. She can't pinpoint the exact time she fell in love with her; with the last person on this earth that she should have romantic feelings for. But she did, somehow. In Narcissa's eyes, she was the most perfect person to ever grace this earth, and she could only wish to be worthy enough to stand in her shadow.
Bellatrix Lestrange, maiden name Black: Narcissa's oldest sister.
Narcissa knew it wasn't right, wasn't moral. To lust after your own flesh and blood is a mortal sin, something to be spat on and condemned. Certainly something that would get you blasted from the family tree and never spoken of again; an embarrassment on the family's pride. But she supposed that it only came naturally, seeing how they were raised. Her oldest sister ended up becoming the only person she ever felt safe with.
Her father, Cygnus, was hardly ever around. Narcissa had never been fully sure what he even did for a living, as work was never discussed at home. She suspected he was in the trading business, but whenever she started asking questions her mother would tell her to never look a gift horse in the mouth, an answer she never understood for years. Sometimes she wondered if even her mother knew his true profession, or just took to never asking questions herself because she was content on living in the dark as a rich housewife.
Druella, her mother, was always home. Always. Which probably would have been lovely… if she had been a lovely woman. Narcissa loved her mother; don't get it wrong. A tiny piece inside of her did because she was birthed from her, linked to her. She's sure her mother did the best she could with how she herself was raised, but she wasn't the nicest of people. The pureblood values passed from parents to children were forcefully instilled on the three Black sisters by their mother. Perfection, respect, loyalty; the way they must present themselves and their family to others. Nothing could be wrong with them, nothing at all. And when there was… they paid dearly for it.
Such were the times though, Narcissa supposed. She heard that during those days that even Muggles would take a belt to their children. Her mother used her wand of course, but the end results were still relatively the same.
It got worse when her sisters left for Hogwarts and Narcissa was alone in that big, dark, empty house with her mother. With Bellatrix and her other sister, Andromeda, not quite living up to Druella's expectations, she set most of her energy on making sure Narcissa turned out exactly the way she planned.
She remembered the one year Bellatrix and Andromeda had come home for Christmas. Normally they would have their excuses; homework, a Quidditch match. But Druella sent a howler, demanding they be there, and so they showed up. Bellatrix was in her third year at Hogwarts, Andromeda in her first. Narcissa was nine, an age that should have made her excited about the holidays. But she wasn't, she barely ever was. Christmas always turned out to be less than joyous in their house and so the only date she ever looked forward to was the one in which she would be able to be sent off to school herself.
The day her sisters came back, Narcissa didn't leave her room. She couldn't bear to greet them, to hear their stories about how good life is without their parents around. Not because she was jealous – though she was – but because she would know how Bellatrix in particular would react when she saw her.
But even though she wouldn't come down, it didn't stray her older sister from coming up to her room to see her for herself.
"Cissy," she called in a whisper, opening the door to Narcissa's bedroom. She peaked her head in, her smile widening a bit as she set sight of her sister on the bed. When she opened the door fully it creaked slightly, as did the floorboards as she strode across them to come to rest on the east side of her bed. "What are you doing hiding up here? You're missing out – Mum's actually trying to take to baking; she says the house elf is doing a rubbish job at the cauldron cakes. Think she gave it a lashing before dismissing it to do some cleaning." She's smirking, like it's the funniest thing in the world. "It's really quite hilarious; she can't figure out for the life of her what she's doing, the dumb git. Andy's down there snickering so she's liable to get a lashing herself, but if you keep yourself quiet and come down we can—"
"Not right now, Bella," Narcissa interrupted, trying her hardest to not move lest she flinch. Bellatrix looked at her, eyebrows furrowing as she took in the sight of her sister; really seeing her. But Narcissa didn't want to spoil the fun (if you could call it that) of their return home so she lied, "I'm not feeling well. I may have eaten something that had gone a bit… bad." She rubbed her stomach and feigned nauseousness.
However, the movement of her arm seemed to have aggravated the skin on her back in some way, and she grimaced. Bellatrix's eyebrows shot off her forehead.
"The stupid sod," she breathed, sitting on the bed next to Narcissa as she looked her over, concerned. Narcissa eyes grew wide, her mouth agape at Bellatrix using that kind of language. "What has she done to you?" Her hands reached out for her, but Narcissa drew back, her stomach sinking at the thought of her sister knowing her pain. Some things were meant to be private. Some things were not meant to be talked about.
That's what her mother always told her.
But Bellatrix had no respect for their mother. She feared her, but did not respect her. And while she knew she herself could get a lashing for not minding her own business, she clearly did not care. Narcissa, her baby sister, was always an exception to the rule. Narcissa did end up asking why one day, but in that moment, she did not know nor need to know why. She just knew she appreciated it, no matter how much she tried to dissuade her from getting herself in trouble.
Bellatrix reached for her again, and Narcissa protested, "No, Bella, I'm fine. I swear to you, I'm okay." But Bellatrix would have none of it. She grabbed the arm Narcissa was using to push her away as her other forced Narcissa's dress up around her ears so she could take a good look at her back. She swore loudly when she was confronted by the sight.
"That bitch, she didn't even mend you afterwards?" Bella practically shouted as she let her go as if she too had been assaulted just by the sight of it. Narcissa quickly put a hand over her sister's mouth to quiet her, fearful.
"Shh! What if she hears you?"
Bellatrix tore Narcissa's hand away from her, eyes flashing with rage. "I hope she does; the stupid bimbo. She's taken to abusing you!"
"Nuh ah! Really, it was just…" Narcissa tried, but words beyond that failed her. Her chest was beginning to tighten as she started feel helpless once more. The tears welled up in her eyes as she looked down, fixing her dress as she stared at the comforter on her bed. Bellatrix's hand found hers, a comforting gesture, and the first tear slid down her cheek.
"What happened?" Bellatrix asked her, voice soft.
Narcissa took a breath, willing to compose herself. Her mother would surely punish her if she found her crying like a child. "I… my hair, it… it was too long. It would get all tangled up in these giant knots and mother would yell about how I need to keep up with my appearances. She said that it was my…" she tried to think of the word her mother used, then remembered, "selling point; where all my beauty really comes from 'cause in the face I'm not the prettiest. And I hated it, I hated it so much! It was stupid. I don't want to be beautiful, Bella. I… I wanted to just be me. Be normal and regular. And so I… cut it." She looked up at Bellatrix then, another tear falling from her cheek. "I cut it and she was so angry. She grew it back and then—" she couldn't finish the rest of that sentence, but it didn't matter; Bellatrix knew. Narcissa bit on her lower lip for a moment, sniffling before she continued, "Mother said she wouldn't heal it until I had learned my lesson."
"Cissy…" Bellatrix breathed sympathetically. She touched her hair, her beautiful long blonde hair, stroking it. "Mother's a cow," she told her, voice firm and honest. "You are beautiful, long hair or not. There's no changing that and you shouldn't hate it; it's a gift. Means you're special." She smiled at her, trying to make her believe it. "Just because she ended up with a face that looked like a hippogriff trampled on it, doesn't mean you did. Or the rest of us, for that matter. You know we take after Father." Her hand slipped from her hair to cup her cheek, wiping Narcissa's tears away with her thumb. She looked torn between being sad and angry. "I wish I could get you out of here," she said.
That made Narcissa dissolve into tears, her sobs racking her whole body so hard that it hurt her back every time she took a breath.
Bellatrix gathered her in her arms, being careful not to aggravate her wounds. She held her the entire time she cried, whispering promises in her ear about how she wished she could have protected her. After awhile, Narcissa's cries were reduced to nothing more than sniffles and ragged breathing as she clutched onto her sister's robes like letting go would be the death of her.
When they finally parted, Bellatrix coaxed, "Come here, let me fix it for you."
But Narcissa's eyes went wide with terror at that prospect. "No! She'd surely do it to both of us if she found out that you had!"
"She said she wouldn't mend it until you learned your lesson, right?" Bellatrix asked her. Narcissa nodded. "Well then, act like you have yet to learn the lesson."
"No!" Narcissa protested, eyes still wide with fear. "She'd just do it again if she thinks I'm not learning! I don't wanna be punished again, Bella. It hurts!" She can hear the whine in her voice, but she can't help it. She knows she shouldn't act like this; complain, but she is only nine years old, after all. No matter how much her mother tries to make her grow up too quickly, some parts of being that age will never leave her, not until they're ready.
"Cissy, you can't keep it like that; you'll scar. Not to mention barely be able to sleep. I can already see the bags under your eyes. Just…" she looked at her pleadingly, "let me help."
Narcissa shook her head defiantly, then winced as it put strain on her back. But she managed, "You're not allowed to do magic outside of school. Mum says."
Bellatrix looked at her like she was slow. "Not everything is only fixable by magic, Narcissa. It's quicker and easier, sure. But what do you think those filthy Muggles do when they're hurt? Just leave it?" she scoffs, "They'd surely die off just from the simple cuts that grow infections."
Narcissa looked appalled. "You're going to fix me up like a Muggle?" What did her sister take her as?
"It's not my first choice either but look at yourself! I can't… damnit, Cissy, you don't understand. I can't sit here and watch you be in pain. I feel like it's my fault," Bellatrix stated, looking guilty.
"It's not your—"
"Of course it is; mine and Andy's. We leave and you get the forefront of Mum's craziness. Whether you want us to be or not, in some way we are responsible and I'm not going to sit here and watch my baby sister in pain, now let me do this!" Bellatrix demanded. She had desperation in her voice, a pleading Narcissa had never heard. Bellatrix was stubborn to the last too, and Narcissa knew she wouldn't back down.
She nodded slowly.
Bellatrix gave her a thankful smile and rose from the bed. "I'll be right back," she told her.
Narcissa fidgeted on the bed as she waited for Bellatrix to return, holding her dress tightly in her tiny hands. She was so scared Mother would find out, but she knew she needed to get it cleaned up at least; the pain was beginning to become a constant in her life. She was sick and tired of hurting.
When her sister returned she had a bottle of vodka, a wet towel, and a sheet. Narcissa looked at her confused but Bellatrix didn't offer an explanation. She only said, "Lift up your dress." Narcissa pulled it up over her shoulders but it kept slipping down. She heard a sigh. "Nevermind, just take it off and lie on the bed," Bellatrix told her, seeing that she's probably going to ruin it if she tried to fix her with it on.
Narcissa hesitated for a second, feeling a little embarrassed. She wasn't near as developed as both of her sisters and she worried Bellatrix would think less of her. It was a silly thing to fear, after all she was four years younger so it was only natural that she would be less developed than the both of them, but it was an embarrassment that wasn't logical. She did take off her dress eventually though, laying it on the base of her bed, making sure not to wrinkle it.
She turned to face her sister, now only in her tights, and caught her staring at her. Her cheeks turned pink and she folded her arms over her chest in embarrassment. "What are you staring at?" she asks, feeling mortified.
Bellatrix blinked as if snapping herself out of some daze. She looked a little uncomfortable all of a sudden and it made her snap defensively, "Nothing. Just do what you're told, yeah? Lie down so I can fix you up."
Narcissa didn't understand why Bellatrix sounded so cross with her; she had been the one judging her after all. It's not fair. She was so sick of being young. She made a disgruntled face at her, but shifted to lie on her stomach. Bellatrix came up beside her.
"Here," she said, handing Narcissa one of her stuffed toys. "Put that in your mouth and bite down."
"Because this is going to hurt," Bellatrix told her matter-of-factly. Narcissa's eyes widened as she turned her head to face her.
"I thought you were going to make it better!" she whined. She didn't want any more pain, wasn't that the point of this?
Bellatrix let out a breath, impatient. "I need to clean it and alcohol apparently stings. I'm not sure how much, I've never done it."
"Cissy, just do what I say," Bellatrix told her, shoving the stuffed toy directly in her face. "Now."
Narcissa looked at her warily before taking the toy and cautiously putting it in her mouth. She braced herself, not sure what Bellatrix was about to do. But then she felt something liquid hit her back and she cried out, the toy muffling her scream. It felt like her cuts were burning. Tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Bellatrix apologized. "But I need to do this."
Another pour of the liquid on her wounds and Narcissa choked back a sob, a tear slipping down her cheek. She held onto her comforter in a death grip, trying not to be loud for fear her mother would hear them.
Then Bellatrix started using the towel, cleaning her up. "I learned how to do this in Muggle Studies," she explained, even though Narcissa didn't ask. She was too busy trying not to scream. It was still burning. "Thought it was bloody useless subject up until now." She paused and reassessed that as she slowly ran the towel down Narcissa's back. "Actually, it's still a load of rubbish. Complete crap that I have to take it, but most of the classes I wanted were full." She scoffed. "Just because I turned in my request late shouldn't mean I have to take the most ridiculous classes available."
Narcissa nodded, trying to agree with Bellatrix without actually opening her mouth. She was still biting down on the toy. It was starting to not hurt that badly anymore though and she could feel her muscles starting to loosen up as she relaxed.
Bellatrix finished cleaning her up and then told her, "Sit up." Narcissa slowly straightened up, taking the toy out of her mouth. She tried to look over her shoulder to see what Bellatrix had done.
"Does it look better?" she asked feebly.
"Not really," Bellatrix told her honestly. "But it shouldn't get infected now. Maybe you won't scar." Narcissa's heart dropped at the word 'scar'. She didn't want to be any uglier.
She moved to get her dress, but Bellatrix stopped her. "Not yet," she told her before grabbing the sheet. She then proceeded to tear it to shreds. Narcissa's eyes went wide.
"What are you doing?" she breathed. "Mum's going to have a fit!"
"Well I need to wrap it, don't I? I think that's what I'm supposed to do. I didn't pay that much attention." Bellatrix, for once, looked annoyed that she didn't learn something the Muggles did. And Narcissa knew Bellatrix's hatred for Muggles; it was just as strong as the rest of her family's. So for her to do this, to do something she hated, spoke volumes to Narcissa. She really cared. She didn't want her hurt.
When Bellatrix was done, she instructed Narcissa to stand in front of her. Bellatrix was looking intently at the remnants of her sheet as she started to wrap Narcissa's body up in it, like she was afraid to look anywhere else. Narcissa didn't understand, but figured it wasn't something she should ask about. She tried to stay as still as possible and not flinch, but every time the fabric covered another wound she grimaced in pain.
Bellatrix's hand stilled for a moment more than halfway up her torso, and Narcissa looked down at her to see her sister staring again. "Stop!" she complained. She knew she wasn't a woman yet, but her sister didn't have to rub it in so much.
"What?" Bellatrix asked, annoyed. "I can't look at you now? Christ, Narcissa. Shut up and lift your arms, I need to finish."
Narcissa huffed but did as she was told. As Bellatrix continued to wrap her she said, voice low and self-conscience, "It's not my fault I don't have them yet."
"Have what?" Bellatrix asked, distracted. She was trying to figure out how to tie it without it all coming unraveled.
Narcissa pouted, "Breasts."
That made Bellatrix stop and look up at her, raising an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, like she wasn't sure if she heard her sister right. They never talked about womanhood before. Narcissa flushed, looking down.
"Nothing," she mumbled. She thought she could talk to Bellatrix about stuff like that, they were much closer than her and Andromeda were, even though they were the furthest apart in age. She certainly couldn't talk to her mother about her confusion about her body starting to change and having weird feelings. She'd probably punish her because ladies don't talk about that sort of thing. Maybe she should have just stayed quiet.
But Bellatrix chuckled softly as she went back to trying to tie the cloth into a decent knot. "You're further along than me and Andy were at your age," she told her.
Narcissa blinked. "Really?" She looked down at Bellatrix's chest. They seemed huge in comparison to hers.
"I didn't start to get mine till I was eleven and Andy's still flat-chested; she puts socks in her bra to look like she's not," Bellatrix told her, sounding amused that Narcissa would even feel incomparable. "At least you have a little something."
Narcissa looked down, confused. "I do?" Not much, that was for sure.
Bellatrix finally managed to tie the knot and leaned back, looking at Narcissa's chest like she's assessing it. She shrugged, "Yeah. You're not ready to get a bra yet, but trust me when you are, Mum will get weird about it. She won't let you say the word 'breasts' or ask any kind of questions about anything. She's bloody useless. Says it's 'not proper.' Bollocks, it's not proper to know what the hell is going on with your body, for one. For two, when you start bleeding out of awkward parts of your anatomy and not knowing a damn thing about anything, it's a little disconcerting."
"Bleeding? Where?" Narcissa asked, looking petrified all of a sudden. Is part of becoming a woman randomly bleeding? What if it starts coming out of her mouth, or her ears?
"I'll tell you when you're older, you got a couple years before that happens," Bellatrix told her, then nodded to the dress on the bed. "Now get dressed before—"
"Bellatrix! Narcissa!" came the shriek of their mother at the bottom of the stairs. Both sisters looked at each other, wide eyed. "Get down here right now!"
"Quickly!" Bellatrix hurried her as she helped Narcissa get her dress over her head. They quickly fixed their appearances before heading downstairs, ready to face whatever it was that was in store for them. With their mother, they could never be sure.
But it turned out it was only dinner. After getting lectured about how they should have been downstairs to greet their father as he got off work, the family of five sat around their dining room table. After they had all been served, Andromeda, who was sitting on Narcissa's left, poked her leg. "Why didn't you come down when we came home?" she asked in a whisper, but was quickly shushed with a death look from their mother.
"Narcissa, what have you been eating? You're looking fatter. What have I told you? Only eat half of what's on that plate, less you wish to look like a troll," Druella told her, taking one look at her daughter. The fact of the matter was Narcissa only looked a little plumper because she was wrapped in Bellatrix's make-shift bandages and it made her torso look thicker, but she stayed quiet. She tried not to look too upset, because she was really hungry and she barely had a full plate to start.
"She's not fat, Mother," Bellatrix retorted with an attitude, scowling at her. Narcissa smacked her leg under the table, trying to warn her. She didn't need to stick up for her; she got that kind of stuff from her mother all the time. She was used to it.
"Bellatrix Black, mind your tongue!" Druella demanded. "And don't chew with your mouth open; you look like a bloody savage." She sighed, like having children was the worst possible thing to happen to her as she turned to her husband. "I swear, I don't know what to do with them sometimes. It's like they want to act like Mudbloods. The ungrateful brats."
"Mind your mother, children," Cygnus said, like he couldn't care in the slightest either way.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes as she stabbed the turkey on her plate with her fork. Narcissa kept her head down and stayed quiet, trying to eat without drawing too much attention to herself. But her bandages were starting to itch, which was making her fidget and grimace in pain every time the bandages rubbed against her wounds.
"What's the matter with you? You look like you've been chewing on glass. What have I told you about proper table etiquette?" Druella snaps, looking over Narcissa with distain.
"She's in pain!" Bellatrix exclaimed loudly, looking at her mother like she was the devil herself. Druella's fork clanks loudly against the plate as she dropped it, looking at Bellatrix like she was lucky she didn't hex her right there at the dinner table.
"Bellatrix, don't speak about things you have no knowledge of. You just look foolish."
"I know what I'm talking about; I saw what you did to her!" Bellatrix yelled, getting far too much attention from the entire table than she should ever hope for. Narcissa's throat tightened in fear. They were both going to get punished for this.
"Bella, please stop," she pleaded.
"What is Bellatrix talking about?" Cygnus demanded, looking at his wife.
"Nothing. The girl is just being a nuance for the sake of teenage rebellion," Druella answered, though didn't take her eyes off of Bellatrix. If looks could kill, Bellatrix would be dead and buried.
Andromeda was watching this entire interaction in as much astonishment as Narcissa was. No one went against their mother. No one. They both feared what would happen to her.
"I am not!" Bellatrix exclaimed, apparently deciding that if she's going to do something, she might as well not do it half way. She turned to her father and then pointed accusingly at Druella. "She left Narcissa with gashes all along her back!"
"You did what?" Cygnus bellowed, looking at his wife.
"The girl wouldn't learn. She cut her hair, Cygnus! She needed to be taught—"
"Enough!" he yelled, looking positively livid. "You foolish woman, what if she scars? Did you not stop to think of how hard it will be to find her a decent husband if she's damaged goods?"
"I—" Druella tried, but is interrupted.
"No wife of mine is going to be stupid, Druella. Now go fix up Narcissa and if I even hear a whisper of you doing such a foolish thing again I will make sure it's you who doesn't have a husband," he threatened. "I will not have you throw away the chance to have our noble house merge with some of the more dominant pureblood families just so you can try to teach your silly little lessons." Druella blinked, taken aback. But Cygnus was the head of the household and she was to do what she was told. "Now!" he exclaimed, and their mother visibly jumped at the force of his voice.
She threw a look of hatred towards Bellatrix and then Narcissa, standing up and keeping a stiff upper lip to continue to hold her composure. "Come with me," she directed Narcissa.
Narcissa slid off her chair, casting a wary glance at her sister, who gave her a small smile. And as she left, she heard her father tell her that he hopes she doesn't think she's going to get away with not being punished, because speaking out of turn is something that definitely needs to be beaten out of her before she's suitable for marriage.
But that is what Bellatrix did for Narcissa, time and time again throughout their childhood. She took the brunt of the force for Narcissa, always taking the punishment over her if she could. She protected her fiercely, as she still does now in adulthood. There were times, of course, that she couldn't; being only a young girl herself. But for someone so young, she was so brave and loyal. Narcissa knew that if nothing else it proved that someone did honestly love her, and for the first and only time in her life, didn't just regard her as some kind of trophy, or a prize to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.