Two Words
They were
simple words, common words spoken separately in everyday conversation without
thought or meaning. Apart, they were
nothing, simply words that passed over one’s tongue. But together? Together,
the words had the power to change lives, to make or break friendships. The words, simple as they were, had power
nearly as frightening as the two words that created the Killing Curse.
Her sisters
had found them easy to utter.
Andromeda, eyes firm and heart steady, had spoken the words with ease. Her mind had been focused on the future, not
the past. With those two words, Andy
had sealed her fate, cursed her family, and burned her name off of the Black
family tree. Andy, sweet, kind, older
Andy who had helped with schoolwork and giggled with her sisters on late July
nights…that girl was gone. No longer
exited. She had died the moment she had
uttered those two words. But unlike the
death of an aunt or an uncle, hers could not be mourned. Andy had chosen love over family, a choice
that, to the Blacks, was not acceptable.
Especially when the love was a Mudblood.
Bellatrix,
though…Bella did not love. Bella had
not loved for a long time. Her words
had been spoken with venom and power, her passion focused toward the Dark Lord,
rather than the man in front of her. At
eighteen, Bella had signed her life with those two words, securing for herself
a spot in the innermost circle of the Dark Lord’s followers. She was already known to him, before she
spoke the words, but as a recent Hogwarts graduate, only marriage to an
accepted Death Eater in good standings with the Dark Lord would allow her into
his circle. She had spoken the words
knowing her fate and accepting it, enjoying it, even.
They had
not hesitated to speak them; why should they?
Always the confident ones, Andy and Bella were more alike than they
would ever admit. Their paths had
simply diverged. Each though their way
was the only true way. Ways that, in their minds, were the only true
ways. They were willing to give up
anything and everything to speak those words.
It was
Narcissa who never knew what to do. The
youngest child of two ever-warring siblings, Cissa had often been the center of
a massive tug-of-war game. Agree with
Andy, and Bella tattled to Mother.
Agree with Bella, and Andy refused to speak to her for a week. Stay silent, and they both hated her. At least at Hogwarts, the choice was made
for her. Andy was in Ravenclaw with her
Mudblood friends, while Narcissa had Bella in Slytherin.
They were
simple words, words she should not struggle over. Her sisters hadn’t; why should she? But the choices that had always been clear to Andy and Bella
weren’t always so clear to Cissa. She
had retreated back to the playroom, Bella and Andy on either sides with crossed
arms and glaring eyes. But this time,
she couldn’t simply walk away. This
time, she had to choose.
Cissa
smiled and fingered her silky, white robes, loving the embroidery that covered
them. Across from her, an oddly nervous
Lucius Malfoy stood stiffly, his hair smoothed back into that sleek ponytail
that Cissa so loved to run her fingers through. He watched her, grey eyes expectant. He had done his part, spoken his words; now she must do
hers. She had no choice, she told
herself. This was the only way. She must do her duty to her family, to the
Black name. This marriage secured the
long sought-after bond between the two most powerful pureblood families in the
wizarding world. The choice had already
been made.
The old
man, a longtime friend of the Black family, smiled down at Cissa. “And you, my dear. Do you take this wizard as your husband, to serve him and love
him as only a wife can? Do you promise
to watch after him and bear him children who will love him as their father?”
Her mind
focused on the future, Narcissa flashed him one of her smiles, the one her
mother called the confident smile, and spoke the two words that had changed her
sisters’ lives forever.
“I do.”
