ink - sirius black

bowtruckles and broken girls

PLEASE KEEP COMMENTING SO MUCH AS YALL DO THEY ACTUALLY GIVE ME LIFE YALL DONT UNDERSTAND I LOVE HEARING ALL THOSE PARAGRAPH OPINIONS, JOKES, ETC <3

tw: violence
tw #2: sa

April 1, 1978
3:02 am
Malfoy Manor

Bellatrix paced back and forth rapidly against the floor of her room that Narcissa had made for her, knotting her fingers through her hair and gritting her teeth as her heart beat faster and faster with rage.

He dismissed me like I was nothing, she fumed. I was just trying to help, and he is so damn obsessed with that bloody girl. What is wrong with me? What did I do wrong? Why doesn't he want my help?

Lestrange caught her reflection in one of the ornate steel framed mirrors as she paced by it, and then stayed to look. There were bags under her eyes, and her hair was in desperate need of a brush. No wonder she had been turned down.

She quickly grabbed a silver handled comb from the vanity and raked it through her waist length curls until they were smooth and shining, then pinned them back with an emerald jeweled clip so that she could see her face more clearly.

A few minutes later, she was satisfied with her appearance.

Her eyes wandered to the door. Surely the Dark Lord had done whatever he needed to by now. It had been exactly thirty two minutes since he dismissed her according to the clock by the enormous king bed in the center of the room. That had to be enough.

Control yourself, she said firmly, her mother's voice creeping into her mind. Don't be angry. That is not an emotion that a proper lady feels.

Bellatrix hurled the brush into the mirror with all her might, glass shards raining down onto the dark floor and scattering across the vanity with the sounds of broken shooting stars hitting the ground, the wishes they carried with them gone.

The door slammed behind her, because she was angry.

Angry at Tom for not acknowledging her dedication, angry that he didn't care how devoted she was. All of these other Death Eaters didn't care half as much as she did about their cause, wouldn't go to the lengths she would to see that it happened.

What would happen if I just took my support away? she thought furiously. What if I turned on him? Then he would see how much he needs me. He would understand then. Then he would-

"Stop obsessing over him," a cool, light voice said, and Bellatrix startled. "It's not going to do you any good. You need to sleep."

"Leave me alone," Bellatrix snapped, massaging her temples. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be at home with mother?"

Narcissa pushed a strand of hair behind her ear from the loose braid going down the back of her linen nightgown, extinguishing the light of her wand that she had used to guide her.

"No," she replied, easily keeping up the quick pace her sister was walking at. "Lucius asked me to stay with him, so I'm just doing as I'm told. I've graduated anyway. My school days are over, Bella."

Lestrange froze in her steps.

"No," she said firmly, taking both of her sister's hands. "School days do not equate to freedom, Cissy. You aren't owned by him now. Go do something with your friends. It's graduation night, there's always some huge party going on until the morning. You're seventeen. Have fun. I'll cover for you if Lucius or someone else needs you."

"I don't have that option," Narcissa said softly, eyes going to the floor. "He'd figure out that I left somehow. He always does. It's fine. Mother always said this is how it was when she married father. I understand now."