The Pureblood Coup

Sheherazade: Thanks for your review as usual. They really do help make my day brighter, and help me continue onward.

Chapter Seven: Empty Spaces


Narcissa Malfoy had not gotten dressed today. She was chowing down on berry desserts. One of the house-elves sent a plate up for her. She sighed, but not from contentment. She was particularly wistful today, what with being cooped up alone. The only company she had was her pet bird, a Fwooper. It was a magical creature with vibrant pink plumage. Periodically, a silencing charm was placed on it because Fwoopers are known to have a squawk that makes listeners lose their sanity. That was actually how she was feeling at the moment, exactly like she was going to lose her mind.

Her husband, Lucius, of course did not get to go to the Ministry, as Voldemort had not allowed him to play his part. What was worse, Narcissa was dreading tomorrow’s celebration. And then she was worried about Draco as usual.

She heard a knock on the door. Because Voldemort had taken over the Master bedroom, she could not be sure if it was her husband, or another Death Eater, or worse it could be Voldemort. Although, Voldemort was supposed to have left to go on some secret mission, otherwise Narcissa wouldn't dare be in here, or let alone be able to get in if he was.

She rose reluctantly from a velvet upholstered chaise in front of her dresser's mirror. The door opened a tiny crack, praying it wasn’t Voldemort.

“Oh it’s you Bella,” she said calmly.

Bellatrix’s dark eyes shined and she peered down at her younger sister anxiously, “Let us talk, Cissy…It’s been a long day. We do so need to catch up.”

“I suppose you may…” Narcissa consented, widening the gap.

Bellatrix scurried in the room, looking around with wonder. It had been Voldemort’s private quarters, until today, so naturally Bellatrix is curious to say the least. And who knew how long it would be until he came back? It could be perhaps as long as a month. Nobody knew, for Voldemort did not trust to confide in any of them.

Bellatrix saw the king-sized bed, the covers were plush, but plain black, as Voldemort had changed their color along with the bed’s drapery. Yet it was an opulant atmosphere with a gigantic chandelier and paintings depicting legends of Merlin on the walls, framed by intricate gold paneling. Tapestries lined the entrance into the bathroom and closets of the chamber. And there was a balcony that looked outside towards the tower where the Veela are being imprisoned. At the other side was a bay window, with the view of their lake.

Bellatrix seemed to float. Approaching, the bed, she kicked her heels up, and tossed onto the perfectly made bed.

“Cissy…I am going to sleep here tonight, in our Lord’s resting place,” she announced confidently sure it was her right to have it.

“Tut,” Cissy complained. “Lucius and I are sleeping here! In our own bed! We do not know when he will return…,” and Narcissa paused, resisting her urge to add, “hopefully never” for Voldemort to be back. “But regardless, if it’s prudent or not, we are occupying the master chamber.”

Bellatrix’s eyes flashed dangerously, and she bit her tongue. Like a female snake she exhaled a hiss. But she would drop it, because she needed to work with Narcissa to get what it is that she is after.

Bellatrix rolled in the sheets, taking in blissful breaths, smelling them and rubbing them against her smooth, yet slightly dry skin.

Narcissa ignored her, going back to sit in her vanity chair at her dresser. She picked up another berry to eat from the platter and then put it down suddenly. Intently, she scrutinized her appearance in the mirror. Then she looked down at her silver chest of jewelry. Opening the lid, she began taking out the jewelry, soaking each piece in a potion to clean them. It was to prepare for the celebration tomorrow evening.

Bellatrix, suddenly coming out of whatever wild enjoyment she was getting, laughed and then screeched, “Cissy…You will never guess what happened…I saw our sister, Andromeda a couple of hours ago with that parasite I shall not name. Anyway…You will not believe who decided to rape her…”

At the word “rape” Narcissa’s willowly neck snapped up from immersing her jewels in the potion.

“Who?…That awful man, Severus Snape,” Narcissa said off-handedly. She would not admit to Bellatrix, that she secretely admired him, especially after Snape had decided to make the vow to help save her son. Narcissa was smart enough, to know Bella and Snape did not get along, and she did not wish to reveal that she herself happened to like the man.

“Yes, Snape! He raped her,” Bellatrix yelped dramatically. “Meanwhile…,” she continued eagerly. She suddenly jumped off the high-rise bed, and came closer across the carpet to where Narcissa was.

“At the same time Snape was banging her up the anus…Lucius had a hand in it. He forced 'Dromeda to suck his-“

“I don’t believe it,” Narcissa brusquely interrupted. “I don’t believe you, Bella,” she repeated coldly.

Yet she was perfectly sure it was true. But Narcissa knew her sister well enough, that she did not even have to turn to know a gloating smile would be on her face. Bellatrix seemed to be getting enjoyment at the pain and hurt this caused Narcissa.

They did not speak to each other for several moments. Until Narcissa asked, “But where is Lucius now? Do you know?”

“Oh, yes. He’s here, probably getting those lowly henchmen to do the guard duties. You know, to track down the Order…I heard a few of them have already been stationed outside Grimmauld Place.”

Bellatrix’s gaze turned to the dresser looking greedily at the jewels Narcissa was dropping one by one in the potion, in a basin with runes decorated on it. Bellatrix's eyes widened.

“We must find you something special for the Dark Lord’s victory party tomorrow. I already have the dressrobe for myself. I think I'll give you a makeover!,” she burst out impulsively. “You need one for your dancing,” she said, eyeing Narcissa’s silverly hair, sprinkled gray.

Narcissa said, “I’m no fool. I know I’m going to be mocked and humiliated at this soiree or whatever...even though I happen to be beautiful. Do me a favour, Bella: Don’t you dare play along with it, too. Don’t you remember how insulted we all were a few weeks ago?…Of the incident where the Dark Lord so cruelly jeered at Draco, ’will you babysit the cubs?’”

“Yes, I remember and it does not bother me,” Bellatrix lied dismissively.

“ I surely won’t sleep tonight, knowing the image I worked so hard to maintain will be ruined. I am forced to throw it all away, by doing a dance with slaves!,” Narcissa raved mournfully.

She picked up another berry delicacy, about to eat it. “I binged all day on delicacies. I won’t fit into my dressrobes, either” And she threw the cream berry back on the silver plate.

“You’ll fit into them. I know just what you’re going to wear, Cissy,” said Bellatrix, suddenly smiling widely.

Narcissa swiveled back in her seat, glaring up at her sister. But she did not say anything.

“You were the beautiful one. Always, you were the special one,” Bellatrix decreed, with a kind of hint that she was not happy with this truth.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, facing her sister now. She knew just what she meant, she had always been the little princess of the family. She was starting to get the vibe that Bellatrix was jealous.

“Perhaps I was....," Narcissa conveyed reflectively. "It's why the Dark Lord esteems me worthy of him. What were you ever but his dirty little wench? I can see why he doesn’t respect you…,” Narcissa said bravely. She was fed up with everything else Bellatrix had said before.

Bellatrix fully incensed now, had her hands curled into fists and she seethed, “I’m going to get back at you, Narcissa for taking him from me. You won’t even know where or when—but I’m warning you, it is coming!”

As if her purpose in entering to see Narcissa was finished, Bellatrix started to stride out of the master bedroom.

Out of nowhere, a voice literally boomed out of the very walls of the entire dwelling, “WHO CALLED ME BACK?!”

Narcissa gripped the edge of the dresser quaking. It was Lord Voldemort, using a powerful sonorous charm. His high, cold, clear voice echoed off the walls of the master bedchamber, everywhere on the manor, including all one-hundred and forty-three rooms, the number being the equivalent of Hogwart's staircases. However, the Malfoy's palace-sized house was not nearly as large as Hogwarts castle.

Again with deliberate force his voice rang, “If this lacks reason, you suffer my retribution!”

Narcissa quaked in terror, nearly falling out of her chair. Then Bella’s clammy hand was grabbing her wrist, and she somehow was being moved.

Down the grand staircase they strode a moment later, in which Voldemort did not speak again. Or at least, he did not speak in a magically amplified proportion.

Narcissa’s breath came out in gasps, hyperventilating. She was prescient enough to be aware of the extent of his anger. Perhaps not the rage as terrible as it was to behold when he discovered the diary was destroyed. But Narcissa knew enough to judge their Lord to be in a dreadful temper.

The next chapter will show something horrific regarding exactly what I think Voldemort probably did to Rowle/Dolohov. It is is not crucio. It is hinted in canon he did exercise other alternatives in ways to punish his Death Eaters in book seven.
please be patient...there is only 1 more update before the party begins. This party will be titled when I get there, "Triumph of the Dark Lord".