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HP stories following Canon but PRE-OotP >> Different: The Story of the Black Sisters by nymphadora_florid

Simple Text - To view MORE chapters use the chapter jump box to the right.
Different: The Story of the Black Sisters


With one last push, Desdemona Black pushed a tiny baby into the world. The only thing that she didn’t want to know at this moment was the gender of the child…
“Mrs. Black, you are now the proud parent of a healthy baby girl!” exclaimed one of the St. Mungo’s trainees.
“WHAT?” she shrieked, kicking her legs around. “I WENT THROUGH TWENTY FOUR HOURS OF LABOR AND I GET A GIRL? AHHH!” she screamed, her hands clenched into fists as she slammed them down on the thin mattress. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, FLAVIAN!” bellowed the enraged wife at her husband, her face purple. “AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE AND YOU GIVE US THREE GIRLS IN A ROW! DAMN YOU! CURSE YOU! YOU ARE A WASTE OF PURE BLOOD!”
“Now, Mrs. Black…it’s not that terrible…she’s healthy, see?” said the healer, holding the newborn baby up in his arms for all to see. Peach-like blonde fuzz was draped over her tiny little head.
“I’m not the one who determined the gender of the baby!” defended the healer.
“Mrs. Black…you’re going to have to nurse her…” said the trainee quietly.
“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!” she squealed, “SHE IS NOT MINE!” and with another blood-curdling screech, chest-heaving, Desdemona Black started crying, tears cascading down her face.
“Could you leave us with the babe and give us a moment alone for a minute?” asked Flavian, taking the child from the healer’s arms.
“Yeah…we’ll leave now. Good luck,” said the healer, patting him on the back as he left.
Flavian rubbed his wife’s back. “Shh…” he said comfortingly, “it’ll be alright.”
“How can it be alright? Look at her…she’s…she’s…”
“She has the beauty of her mother…” whispered Flavian, handing the sleeping baby over to her mother.
“I c-can’t h-hold her…”
“Yes, you can…you’ve done it two times before.”
Desdemona cradled her baby in her arms and let her nurse. “What are we going to name her?”
“Hmm…well…she’s already had to fend for herself…she didn’t get your love right away…and my great-grandmother’s name was…”
“Welcome to the world, little Narcissa.”
“Do you think we ought to call Bellatrix and Andromeda up here from the waiting room?” asked Flavian.
“Yes. They ought to come up here and meet their little sister.”
“I’ll go get them.”

Ten minutes later, Flavian, four-year-old Bellatrix and two-year-old Andromeda showed up inside the room, only to find Desdemona and Narcissa asleep; Narcissa in Desdemona’s arms.
“Daddy…is that the new baby?” asked Bellatrix, her shoulder-length black hair trailing behind her.
“It most certainly is, Trixie.”
“Baby…” murmured Andromeda, reaching out her toddler hands to touch the baby.
“No, Andie. Don’t touch the baby.”
“Want to touch…”
“I said no,” said Flavian firmly.
“I want to.”
“I want to.”
“Because you’ll wake her up.”
“I want to talk to Cissy.”
“Yeah…I want to talk to Cissy, too!” said Bellatrix indignantly, putting her toddler hands on her toddler hips.
“Leave them both alone or we’ll all go home!” said Flavian, pulling the two girls away from their little sister. They both tried to overcome his grasp and reach out to their peach-fuzz sister. “They’ll be home in a few days, I promise. And then we’ll all have a party to celebrate!”
“How long is a few?” asked Andie.
“A few is three.”
“And how many hours is that?”
“About 78.”
Andie crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving.”
“Come now, children, we’re flooing back home.”
“Already, daddy?”
“I told you, Bellatrix, they’ll be coming back soon.”
“Goodbye, Cissy,” whispered Bellatrix.
“Bye-bye, Cissy,” said Andie, waving goodbye.

Different: The Story of the Black Sisters

Chapter One:
Bellatrix Betrothed

Three young girls sat in their mother’s dressing room. The eldest, Bellatrix was seven, Andromeda was five, and the youngest, Narcissa was three.
“Oh, mum…you look beautiful,” said Bellatrix, smoothing her mother’s jet black hair. “Your hair…it’s just like mine…”
“That’s right, Trixie…you’ll find that you and I are the only ones with the same hair color that are still alive.”
“I wish I had black hair,” said Andromeda enviously. She stroked her own shoulder-length curly brunette hair.
“Oh, but Andie, you have the hair of your grandmother,” said Mrs. Black, taking the small child by the hand and letting her sit on her lap. “Here…I’ll show you a picture of her…Kareem!” she trilled, calling one of the house-elves.
“Mistress?” asked the tiny creature, suddenly appearing at her sight.
“My family photo album, please.”
“Right away, Mistress.”
“Now, girls…each of you look like a different member from pure-blood families across England…”
“Mummy?” asked little Narcissa, tugging at her mother’s dress, “I don’t want you to go to the party. I don’t like staying her with Trixie.”
“And why ever not, little Cissy?”
“Because…because…” started the timid toddler as her oldest sister shot her an evil look. “I don’t feel safe without you two here!” she bawled, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart…go talk to dad,” said Desdemona lazily, pushing the child out of her room and down the steps. “Now, my two oldest daughters…” she started, flipping through the family album. She pulled out one of the oldest pictures held inside. “Here is your great-great-grandmother, Mrs. Nigellus…”
“He was a Professor at Hogwarts…wasn’t he?” said Bellatrix, recognizing a picture next to the one her mother was holding up…a man with a twirled moustache and slicked back hair stood next to a woman with curly brunette hair.
“He was the least popular Headmaster at Hogwarts, yes. But, none the less, he is your great-great-grandfather…and he has the same hair as you, Bellatrix.”
“I thought you had the same hair as me.”
“You have black hair on both sides, but mine is wavy and his, your great-grandmother’s, your grandmother’s and yours are all bone straight.”
“Let me see my hair! Let me see my hair!” demanded Andromeda, bouncing up and down.
“Alright…alright…you have your great-great-grandmother’s hair, Andromeda. Her hair was silky, curly, long, and light brunette; as you can see in this small portrait of her,” said Mrs. Black, giving the picture to Andromeda, who wouldn’t stop staring at her great-great-grandmother. “Alright…your father and I have to go to the party now…” said Mrs. Black, closing the photo album. She stood up and picked up her yellow satin dress.
“Ready, Dessie?” asked Flavian, heading up the stairs with his tiniest daughter in his arms.
“Well, what an interesting accessory,” said Desdemona, pointing to Narcissa.
“I had better drop her off first.”
“I hope so. She’s not coming to the party with us.”
He gently dropped Narcissa onto her bed, turning off the lights and closing the door after himself.
“Now, girls…be careful. We’re going to put a locking charm on all the doors so that nobody can get in. The house-elves have all been instructed to stay up until we return, and they have also been instructed to make sure you both get to bed. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes mum,” chorused both the girls.
“Goodnight, Trixie. Goodnight, Andie,” said their father gently, kissing both their foreheads.


“Ah…I see most of our pureblood friends are here…” said Flavian.
“Of course they are…it’s only purebloods at this. Makes me happy that we don’t have to worry about muggle-lovers or mudbloods here…”
“Dance with me?” he asked her, inviting her to join the other slow-dancing couples.
“Sure,” she said, accepting the invitation as he led her onto the dance floor.
The lights were dim and a cello, a piano, and a violin played a slow ballad. All Desdemona heard was the music and couples whispering to each other softly.
“I’m sorry we have three girls, Dessie,” said Flavian, kissing her forehead whilst they danced.
“Well, I’m afraid we’re cursed. There’s no use in trying to have another one.”
“You know what we have to do now?” he asked her.
She smiled evilly, “Marry them off…”
“Exactly…and we’ll start with Bellatrix…tonight.”
“Tonight? But she’s not yet eight!”
“The sooner she’s betrothed, the less time for her to get mixed up in a relationship.”
“I like how you think. I’m thinking our parents were smart to put us together. Since you’re smart…and I’m brilliant…we make the perfect team,” murmured Desdemona.
“I know of a family with a boy three years older than Bellatrix…” said Flavian softly, pointing over to the Lestranges on their left.
“The Lestranges? They barely have a penny to their name!” said Desdemona, appalled that her husband would say such a thing.
“They have tens of thousands of galleons at Gringotts! You don’t call that rich?”
“But we have millions of galleons! They have nothing compared to us! And you’re the one that manages the budget! I’m ashamed of you! To think you would ruin the Black name by marrying them off to one of the Lestranges! We have to find a suitor for Bellatrix that’s better than this boy you speak of!” said Desdemona, practically spitting out the last sentence.
“Would you rather that I marry them off to…hmm…the Weasleys?”
Desdemona choked on her own spit. “What? Marry them off to them? They might as well be a family of mudbloods and squibs for all the muggle-loving they do!”
“Well, Lestranges it is, then,” said Flavian, quite pleased with himself.
“Fine, Lestranges it is,” she said, still a bit disappointed, but hopeful that her next daughter would be married to somebody worth while…perhaps a Malfoy…
Flavian and Desdemona ended the dance early and headed over to where the Lestranges were sitting. It was high time they discussed business.


“I’m not tired yet, Kareem!” shouted Bellatrix, her hands crossed over her chest.
“Now, now, Mistress Bellatrix, it’s under your parent’s order that you sleep now. Are you going to go to bed yourself, or am I going to have to do it for you?” the tiny house-elf demanded.
“Can I at least read?”
“What are you going to read, Mistress Bellatrix…Kareem was thinking you don’t know how!”
“I know how! Father taught me! And that’s why I have a vast vocabulary for my age!” exclaimed Bellatrix, upset at how a house-elf of all creatures was questioning her intellect. He probably didn’t have more intellect than a gnome!
“And what exactly are you going to read, Mistress Bellatrix?”
“I love maps, if you care. I’m interested in them…learning about them…”
“Ah…geography…an interesting subject…but too muggle for your parent’s liking. Kareem suggests you find something interesting to read.”
“And what do you have in mind?”
“Just a little something Kareem was given when Kareem was just a wee house-elf of seven…”
“You knew how to read at seven? How interesting. I should think house-elves didn’t have near human intelligence to read until they were thirteen.”
“Kareem finds Mistress’s sense of humor enchanting,” said Kareem sarcastically.
“I’m glad you like it,” said Bellatrix bitterly.
“It’s past your bedtime.”
“It’s past yours, too.”
“Kareem doesn’t have a bedtime.”
“Well, then…neither will I.”
“Mistress Bellatrix will get in her pajamas!” shouted Kareem, opening her drawer and pulling out her soft black pajamas. With a wave of his hands, the pajamas instantly replaced her day clothes. “Do you want Kareem to tuck you in, too?” asked Kareem patiently.
“No,” shouted Bellatrix.
“Kareem will anyways, since little Mistress is too stubborn for her own good…” said Kareem, unfolding the covers a few feet away and pushing Bellatrix into them. “Goodnight, young Mistress.”
“Goodnight, Kareem…” said Bellatrix sourly, turning off her candles. She knew in her head she couldn’t wait to get away from this house.

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