Prompt: the sky was black with clouds, a storm raging outside hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. flashes of lightning lit up the great hall, and the character watches the harsh storm with awe on the charmed ceiling. (bellatrix/narcissa)
Rating: pg
Where: hexrpg

Narcissa had always found something strangely calming about the violence in storms. They were loud, angry, and yet it was because they announced themselves with such force that the fear she expected to feel, even as a small child, never seemed to follow. Storms had always made themselves known though, made you aware of how close they were. You could hear if they were approaching or retreating, and you could plan accordingly.

Silence, however… silence you could not plan for, as there was no telling what was coming next.

Because it was the stillness that Narcissa feared; the quiet in the unknown unnerved her, as that was always when the worst parts of her life came to fruition. Her mother's fury was marked with an eerie silence as she stared down at you, quietly contemplating how best to make you comply with her wishes. Narcissa would stand frozen as she watched her, waiting for the punishment that she knew was coming, yet still managed to be surprised by every single time.

Because it was never the same as the last.

In the end though, it was her expectation of horrible surprises that caused predictability to become Narcissa's primary source comfort, no matter which form it came to her in. Even her sister's blind rage gave Narcissa a greater sense of calm than a solitary night alone in their large mansion. Perhaps it was insanity, but at least when Bellatrix raged, Narcissa already knew there was a high chance she would be on the receiving end of her sister's wrath, and therefore was already prepared to handle the repercussions. She was an easy target, after all. A meek little girl with no real power of her own and a masochistic desire to please; a match made in madness and oh, how Bellatrix reveled in the madness of their relationship.

Bellatrix was like a storm herself though; flashes of lightning here and there, brief moments of something blinding and loud and angry… and then she was still. She continued to rumble, yes; beneath the surface Bellatrix still growled and threatened, but her bites were few and far between. And even when she bit down hard enough to break skin, to tear into your soul and eat out your still-beating heart, she still tended to the wounds she inflicted; Bellatrix cared when her anger ended up being misdirected towards the very few that she truly she cared for, which was far more than Narcissa could say about Druella Black.

It was why Narcissa did not blame her sister. It was why she did not fear her. In the end, Bellatrix's brutal violence was far preferred to the silence, isolation, and the horror of her mother's unexpected discipline.

Even now as they ate dinner around the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, Narcissa could feel the tenseness in her sister's form beside her. It was as though she were always waiting for a moment to snap and reign her fury down upon the world, but it was the assurance that it would always come with a clear warning attached that allowed Narcissa not to concern herself with it yet, and instead stare up at the ceiling as streaks of lightning danced across the enchanted sky. There had been a warning for that as well; a loud rumbling, a few drops of rain that never quite made it to their heads. The first crack of lightning made so many of the students jump in fear and shock, but not Narcissa. Never Narcissa.

Instead, the blonde just smiled, for it was something terrible, yet predictable; and in the end, knowing the worst was yet to come was far better than knowing nothing at all.

- FIN -