Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4013314.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Bellatrix_Black/Sirius_Black, Bellatrix_Black/Narcissa_Black, Lucius
      Malfoy/Narcissa_Black_Malfoy
  Character:
      Sirius_Black, Bellatrix_Black_Lestrange, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Lucius
      Malfoy, Remus_Lupin, Severus_Snape
  Additional Tags:
      Springboard_Fic, Time_Travelish, Child_Abuse, Incest, Insanity, Mercy
      Killing
  Series:
      Part 6 of A_Glance_Askance
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-26 Chapters: 1/? Words: 2325
****** Locked Away: Spiraling Descent ******
by TheGreatShiniGami
Summary
     And here we are imprison'd against the ages; forgotten wretches of
     the world left to die.
     Sirius finds himself locked away again; this time in the attic of
     Manor Noir. Adjusting to awakening in his youthful again body, his
     imprisonment with Bellatrix threatens to drive him mad--again.
Notes
     A/N: First I would like to say thank you to Megan13 from FF.net/
     FictionAlley for starting the fic that semi-inspired this story.
     (There and Black Again) I’m merely taking off from her jumping point;
     although my vein is a bit different from hers. (I assume, but you
     know how much wank assumptions and gender starts on the internet now.
     *sigh*)
     Secondly: This is a sordid affair. I mean, really really bad. I’m not
     used to writing some of the content that happens in this place; and
     frankly my awkwardness is really part of the point. It’s meant to
     make you feel squicky inside because of the subject matter. The Black
     family is an evil and twisted bunch—through cultural bent and by
     virtue of the magic they inherit and practice. Confections? No? Very
     well, let the tale commence
  This work was inspired by
      There_And_Black_Again by Megan13
June 27th, 1978, Late Evening
Imperio…
The last word he’d heard echoed in his mind as the buzzing of his free-will
returning cut through the Imperius’ stupor. The scene before him was a sort of
dim, monochrome loft flat—although normally this would not include the shredded
wingback chair, old blood stains, two plates of untouched food, and that
damnable faint cackling he’d heard since the buzzing faded. The low beamed
corridor stretched into unintelligible blackness. There were no cobwebs on the
one window though; evident that the House Elves made someeffort to clean
this…dungeon. That was the only word for it; even though his location was above
ground.
Sirius quaked for a moment internally before regaining his composure and
realizing where he really was; he had started to think that he had gone mad—a
vicarious product of both his ‘rebirth’ and the Black blood that pumped through
him then and now. While before this had just manifested itself as some of his
more ‘argumentative’ moments as Mooney would call them; now the Black Madness
manifested more similarly to Bellatrix’s more incineratory inclinations. The
cackling broke his thoughtline once more; raising the hackles of said madman’s
anger.
It was clear now; he was in the attic of Manor Noir. There was only one other
living person who’d been locked away in the Attic and while Sirius knew that
he’d have to face his cousin sooner or later/again; he’d have preferred to do
it somewhere in the open—with his wand at the very least. While Bellatrix
wouldn’t have one either—that didn’t matter very much. The cackling grew
louder; forcing him to turn to face the corridor once more. He wasn’t sure how
much this Bella would be different from her last incarnation—given that Bella
ever could be different from the torrent of insanity and sadism that she was.
Better to be prepared for the inevitable, than be caught unawares by a star-
crossed sign.
“Baby Siri’s come home to roost, has he? Come to play with Cousin Bella?” She
whispered from the dark.
“Crazy bint! I’ve not come here to have anything to do with you; Mummy
Dearest’s locked me in here for the summer instead of sending me away for
‘treatment’ at St. Mungo’s. Keep your distance or I’ll ring you two for one for
the last thirteen years I was locked away with you!” He shouted back at her;
still wroth over Remus’ complicity in the affair. The boy hadn’t known truly
that Lucius was trying to frame him; but it still stung. When your best mate
tells you something is going to happen in the future, you bloody well believe
him. He thought.The cackling interluded once more as the half-starved—but still
voluptuous form of his eldest cousin slinked into the one shaft of fading
daylight from the one window.
The pretense of hiding his knowledge was gone; Lucius had already convinced his
parents of his ‘malady’ after he tried to warn the bastard off of grasping
Voldemort’s coat-tails to ruin. He told Remus; in hopes that outing the rat
would lead to an odd, house-spanning spanner in Moldy’s gears. Just in time to
whisk Narcissa away and leave Lucy-boy in the dust with his new ‘friends’. It
was still odd that he’d gotten to think of the man as a friend during his brief
clash with another life. All the werewolf did was go to Dumbledore to try and
‘help’. That twisted old geezer was partly the reason for all this in the first
place—not to mention all of the things that he’d hidden over the years or kept
to half-truths in order to further some arcane goal. That was the whole problem
with Wizarding society, Padfoot had figured. These immortal old bats and bints
who’ve thrown so much power around they forget what exactly that does to the
character of a man—and his ability to relate to others that can’t just will
away their woes and forget their faults.
“Aww… Is that any way to greet your favorite cousin, O’ Heir Apparent?” She
said, sidestepping to try and come around him from behind. He likewise stepped
to the opposite side and the two caged beasts began to circle one another.
“You were nevermy favorite. I am not mad, and I’ll never bow to the wretched,
waste of a man you call Lord!” Sirius growled back, spreading his hands out
from him and bending his knees slightly. If this was anything like Azkaban;
then the same tactics that served in their brawls there would suffice in
Druella’s upstairs oubliette. He only hoped that the windows here were made of
Shatterproof Glass. Probably, if it were expected to truly contain the tempest
it had dwelling in it now.
“I have no Lord!” She roared as she stepped in front of the one window; the
light framing her sultry form with an unholy halo. “I have no equal!My very
Blood is power—unbound, limitless Power!” She continued with an overwhelming
intensity as crackles of fire began to build between her fingers. Sirius had
forgotten about that bit of information temporarily. While he could cast
without speaking; eliminating the somatic and focus components of a spell were
above his ken. Something Bellatrix had flaunted in his face before when she was
free; only it seemed she was crazier here than before. There were so many
things he didn’t know—didn’t learn about himself before he started trying to
change things.
“Funny that. Even without you sucking the shite of his shoes and worshiping
that bloody corpse it all comes down to Blood for you, doesn’t it?” Sirius
jeered at her; hoping to send her into a full on rage. Either she’d lose her
concentration—and thus the spell; or she would kill him. At the current point
of things both situations looked promising.
The fireball leapt from her hand as though it was nothing—the actual feat was
somewhat excruciating due to the amount of energy that had to pass through the
limb. Sirius leapt diagonally at her; letting the fireball splash against the
wall and lick flames around. He didn’t have time to see if anything
caught—although an assumption that Druella had spelled the room to be fireproof
after Bellatrix had burned her own rooms was fairly safe. While death would be
a blessing to him now; he thought—he did not want to die here, burning, tangled
up in a fight with his maniacal cousin.
“Fool! Blood is Power! Every little rivulet draws it from y…” She started to
reply with contempt in her voice—before being cut off from speech by Sirius’
hands wrapping around her throat. She struck out a knee to his groin; which
succeeded in distracting him for a moment and bringing them both to the floor
with a slam. The would-have-been Marauder clutched furiously, but Bellatrix
kicked her feet again, landing a solid strike against his shoulder. Another
splash of flame burst forth as he got his legs from under him to make another
dive after her before she could get away—this one crashing against his face and
singing his hair. He landed on top of her, receiving another knee to the
bollocks for his efforts. The wizard yelped with the pain, but kept his focus
on the murderous task at hand. He felt the soft touch of flesh meet his hands
as he squeezed; which he would have locked into crushing her windpipe if he
hadn’t heard her utter one word as she touched his temple lightly with a still
flickering finger.
“Legi…Legilimens…”
He wasn’t sure what all she was seeing; or if her mind was hale enough to let
her truly process what he knew. The War, their personal feuds, Azkaban and all
the way up to when she sent him bum over kettle through the Veil in the Room of
Death. More recent flashes came forward as she thumbed through his memories;
his tryst with Narcissa, which she lingered on for a bit too long—drawing
luridly detailed memories of it out of him. The resulting argument and
distancing himself from Lucius and his discovery of said tryst. Remus’ denial
of their camaraderie and the confused hurt that came from mentioning his
infatuation with their would-have-been mutual friend. The connection of minds
laid all of him bare—down to the last tattered bits that held on to his fears
and hatreds.
What he had not expected was the rushing, plunging depths that he himself was
cast into as Bellatrix used her spell. The side effects of Legilimency weren’t
lost on him, and he would have normally loathed taking a dip in his mad
cousin’s mind. The visions that swam ahead of his eyes told an entirely
different story than the one he had expected to see.
A winter’s day—after Yule celebrations but most assuredly before their return
to school. “Show me! Show me, Bella, please?” He must not have been that
old—maybe seven, before he’d figured out what his parent’s really believed and
acted like.Apparently he’d been begging her to show him her new spells that
she’d learned in school.
Another moment; when he first came to Hogwarts and he was sorted with
Narcissa—in this existence. “I knew you’d make it in. And don’t worry about
other houses, dearies. ” She said, pulling the two of them down to either side
of her at the Slytherin Table. “They know not to rouse the ire of their
betters.” She said; eyes twinkling.
“Are the common rooms and dormitories really in the dungeon? Why would they put
us in such dreary part of the castle?” Narcissa asked; daintily rearranging her
silverware in the French style. The hovering candlelight sparkled against the
lacquer of the long House table.
“Yes, they are. But we need dark and low spaces to determine things amongst
ourselves, ‘Cissa love. Remember this first; No Coiling Outside the Lair.
Slytherins do not show the petty posturing of Lions; nor do we squaw and gull
like the Crows. And unlike our ‘fellows’” she explained; with only a middling
drip of malice towards the Badgers, “We do not simply cling together. Snakes do
not fight in the sight of others, but we do what needs to be done to make us
strong.”
“Will they let me play quiddich? I want to fly!” Sirius-of-then piqued whilst
loading his plate down. Lucius smirked at him from his seat across the table.
They’d actually been friends—shockingly enough—much like he and James had
become in the Before.
“No, Siri. First Years aren’t allowed to fly for House clubs. If you managed to
impress Slughorn; he’s our corpulent Head of House, he may try and persuade
Madam Hooch to allow you.” Bella replied. His older cousin tousled his hair and
began informing them of the routine of Hogwarts and what was expected of them
as Slytherins as well as Blacks.
Several others flashed through; and it seemed that where he had been the rebel
in his past life, now Bellatrix carried the torch in this one. Her refusal to
conform to Druella’s idea of what a proper pure-blood witch should act like was
only the first of her defiances. The second came as she graduated Hogwarts; but
refused to take the mark. ‘If you want to kill a bunch of lowly mudbloods; do
it yourself. I’ll let none rule over me. Coupled with her open secret; this had
caused her to ‘vanish’ into the Attic after that year’s Beltane festivties. The
lines that drew the two of them had to only be altered slightly, to cast one
into another’s role as easily as changing a shirt. Sirius was sickened by the
thought; that had he-of-then woken up in his bed that night rather than
himself; would he be as sadistic and twisted as Bella was in the old time?
Would he have went with Lucius down into the forest that night?
He didn’t travel too far down that line of thought before the mental connection
was broken and Bellatrix fell unconscious. Worry worn hands released the
porcelain throat just prior to crushing the windpipe. There would be a bruise;
no doubt: but the two of them weren’t cared for now, so things like marks and
bruises were of no consequence here. Sirius backed away from her still form,
breath only just lightly returning to her. He needed to think; to sort all this
out and plan something—anything,rather than be trapped with her again.
Regardless of how she’d turned out in this time; imprisonment was the same to
him, no matter who he was locked in with. He stepped back towards the low
corridor taking in the last rays of sunlight from The Window and began to
concentrate. The erstwhile Gryffindor felt his bones begin to soften and his
body begin to shift and melt into the other form he held. It would be much
easier to see up here then; and as he found when his change was complete, there
was a reason Bella hadn’t eaten today—with the Bewilderment Beverage/Calming
Draught laced meal being presented. Did they have a function tonight? That
would call for the need to have he and Bella tractable—the thought that
tractability could ever be imposed on his cousin seemed unlikely.
The soft clack of toenails on hardwood faded into the nearing dark as dusk set
on Manor Noir. He’d be able to hear her when she awoke; and maybe they could
avoid each other for a time, before he could get out from here. If he could
ever get out from here. What had it taken to get Bellatrix out before?
Voldemort? Her conversion in his previous life to his cause seemed almost
understandable now. Padfoot laid down on the smooth boards of The Attic and
took a much needed nap.
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