#mary-how-contrary

[noirecissa]

Murder

 I’ll write my character killing yours

Narcissa was no fighter. Nor was Mary, but there they were, standing across the other with wands in their hands and anger on their faces. It was infuriating how the muggleborn standing a few metres away from her was competition. She shouldn't be - it should be easy for Narcissa to win this duel.

But it was not. Desperation started to creep up on her as she continued to use hexes far less worse than the ones her husband or sister used. A stunning curse missed with just a couple of inches and she gasped a little. Being caught off guard, Mary managed to hit her with a stinging hex and she let out a mangled scream. Narcissa was not used to pain.

Of course, the scream was heard by her sister. Bella was an observer (and a skilled killer too), and especially when something happened to one of the few people she actually cared about, she noticed it. "Finish her!" She screamed as she dodged a curse. 

And even though Narcissa knew Bella would never force her into killing someone, she did realise she had a point. Narcissa should not allow the younger witch - the mudblood - to hurt her. She shouldn't use just those petty spells and hexes, no. Mary MacDonald did not deserve anything but death, right? She didn't deserve mercy or a sloppy duel with no real pain. 

But Narcissa was no fighter. Nor was she a torturer and absolutely no killer. But maybe, she should be. Maybe it was better if she - as her sister had called it - finished Mary. She deserved it, after all. Maybe it was weak of Narcissa to not do it herself, but to just watch it happen. Maybe it was better if she did it herself for once.

But another voice told her that Mary had never done anything to Narcissa. That killing people was wrong and that it would do her more wrong than good. The emotional damage - the voice told her - would be too big. 

Another hex hit her and Narcissa gritted her teeth. At this point, her thoughts were clouded, because how dare she hurt her? How dare someone like Mary MacDonald even stand up to someone like Narcissa? Anger took over, the voice who had been telling her to not do it was gone.

And then so was Mary. It had only taken a few seconds, but she was gone, her body hitting the floor. All sounds disappeared and Narcissa's eyes stared at Mary's empty ones. There was nothing else - just guilt, oh god, so much guilt spreading through her body.

She stumbled backwards, her eyes big and one hand covering her mouth. No. Narcissa was no fighter nor killer, but now she was. She had fought. She had killed someone. And even though Mary had deserved to die, it did not feel right. Killing people was not right. 

[noirecissa]

Crucio

There's still so many painful things to come for our dear Narcissa, but for now, there's only one painful moment that stands out. Of course a seventeen year old girl like her has not experienced many painful things - only a few losses, only a few heart breaks and a few fights. 

But now, at this point in her life, it is the disowning of her dear sister that's the most painful thing to happen. This will be one of the worst things to happen to her through her whole life - alongside with the loss of Lucius and Bellatrix (twice, even). In her whole life, Narcissa would dream of days she used to spend with her sister, laughing and talking, secretly making fun of father's moustache. 

At first, she cried. Cissa cried till her eyes were dry and there was nothing left. And even then, she still felt weak, her throat thick of the sadness and anxiety plaguing her. She needed her sister. There was the wedding, there was graduation, there was her whole life in front of her. How could she do it without her sister there to help her through when she needed it?

Then, a few months later, Cissa had closed off, not spilling a single word about it all. It was too painful and people did not want her to talk about it. Andromeda did not exist any more. It was as if she had never even been there. But then, the wedding came and the absence of the friendly face of her sister was enough for Narcissa to break down. It was Lucius who found her. The man she didn't love, but only liked. The man that did give her butterflies in her stomach, but didn't make her feel like she was save. But at that moment he did. He did not ask, did not tell and did not say a word. He just took her, at that moment, small body and wrapped his arms around it. 

After years and years, Cissa had grown to accept it. At some moments, she would start a letter, trying to put into words what she thought, but each time she lit it on fire, burning every piece of evidence that she had even tried to contact her sister. It was embarrassing, something she would never admit. But it was so. She still needed her sister at some points, because no one was able to fill the gap she had left.