Sometimes it was hard for her to remember why she had liked him once. It was moments like these, when he set her blood boiling and left her with no choice but to remain speechless in order to not appear childish and bratty that she knew why her heart had first been tricked into letting him in. He was still there, in a dark corner of her heart; hidden from view even to herself for most of the time until she was suddenly assaulted with memories of him and his sharp words that could only come from the horned tongue he seemed to invisibly possess.

“Cissy, are you listening?” demanded Bellatrix shrilly. “I said there’s no way I’m giving him an heir. I’m not a baby machine. I have ambition. I will serve My Dark Lord.”

Narcissa averted her blue eyes away from the manic gleam on her sister’s face and to the tea cup in her hands. “You should reconsider, Bellatrix. All he wishes is for a son,” pleaded the blond as she reached for her sister’s hand. Bella snatched her hand away.

“And what about me?” she shrieked. Her knee banged against the table. “Don’t I have wishes too?”