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if you were to ask anyone in the wizarding world about the sisters of the noble house of black, you would probably be met with very similar answers.
bellatrix lestrange. she's a crazy, evil psychopath.
narcissa malfoy. she's a weak, obedient housewife to lucius malfoy.
and andromeda tonks. well we all know of her and it's best not to speak about.
thruth is, the three sisters were far more similar than they seemed.
brought up in a cold, heartless household, as the heirs to one of britain's most wealthy, noble houses, the girls suffered a similiar fate in their childhood. they were never good enough for cygnus and druella black. bellatrix was too free, andromeda too kind and narcissa too quiet.
however, they all grieved their happiness. they mourned the lives they would never be able to have.
narcissa grieved in private, with the curtains closed, in the darkness of her room, where no one would see her. she remembed the eyes of the girl she loved and the disappointment in them, when she told her she was marrying lucius malfoy. she remembered the stolen moments, in closets, hotel rooms, before she lost alice to frank longbottom. she'd hated him, for a while, with a burning passion, but as the years went by, she couldn't help but hate herself more.
when she'd found out about her what happened to them, at her sister's hand no less, she'd fallen into a state of numbness. her older sister, the one she'd loved and admired for all of her life, was gone. narcissa mourned her too. at first, she tried to hate bella, but she couldn't ever bring herself to do it. she'd known, that bellatrix would have never done something like this, if she wasn't pushed into it by their parents and voldemort himself.
her heart ached more and more as she watched bella slip further into insanity and further away from the kind, sweet young girl she used to be.
she recollected every time bellatrix had covered her ears, when she was too young to understand, as their parents threw unforgivable curses at one another downstairs. how she'd told her stories about hogwarts and made her laugh.
she didn't want to, but she also remembered bella's screams after the cruciatus curse, when cygnus black didn't deem her worthy enough of the black name.
narcissa refused to accept that the person that bellatrix was now, was her sister. just as she refused to think about andromeda, who had gotten away.
she'd poured all of her love into her son. draco was possibly the only thing she stayed in this mess for. she knew that if she'd rebelled, he'd face the consequences. she couldn't bare putting that on him. she couldn't bare to lose him.
andromeda was the one who took the risk. she'd knew she would be trapped, just like her sisters, if she didn't try to get away. so she tried and she was succesful.
she was happy, to an extent. she'd married the man she loved and had a beautiful, strong child and a grandchild. but some days, she couldn't help but think about narcissa and bellatrix, who she'd left behind. she felt guilty, that they were left to fend for themselves in that dark, cold world of the black family.
she didn't read the newspaper headlines, about the oldest black sister being sent to azkaban. she didn't dare look at the wanted posters of her, grinning like a madman, plastered all over diagon alley. she didn't dare to speak, when her husband spoke about bella's latest endevours with lord voldemort.
bellatrix was arguably the one who grieved the most. she grieved with a reckless fury, an anger that ran so deep, that she'd lost sight of herself in the midst of it. she took it out on anyone and everyone in her vicinity.
terrorizing civilians and people that she deemed less important, was just a cover for when she remembered the shine of long, blonde hair, that she had once gotten the privilege of carresing gently. before she'd been submitted to curses by her own father.
when she'd come face to face with rita skeeter at the ministry of magic, after voldemort's takeover, she'd frozen up. their eyes lingered on each other and bellatrix had forgotten what she was doing. she stood there, wand above her head, staring at the woman she once loved. when rita disappeared around the corner, bella had cast an aggresive spell towards the windows, which shattered into millions of small fractures.
at the end, bellatrix had no idea what she was fighting for. she was just fighting, because she had to, or else she felt like she would explode. she laughed like a maniac at killing her cousin, sirius. he'd gotten to live life, like he'd wanted to. why was it him and not her? why was he the one that got that privilege?
she fought until the very end, against all of the young ones, full of hope for a better life. she was bitter and full of spite, since she'd never gotten that opportunity. why should anyone else? she cast spell after spell, letting the anger flow out of her seamlessly.
when molly weasley, of all people, froze her to the spot, bellatrix couldn't help but feel relief. it was over. she could finally stop fighting.
she didn't get a funeral. not a real one really. there was no body left to bury. it was an empty tombstone on the grounds of the malfoy manor.
it was narcissa after all, who made it. rodolphus lestrange couldn't be bothered.
she stood, as she crafted a beautiful, black headstone engraved with golden vines around the corners. she'd poured all of her fond memories of bellatrix into it. at the end, she couldn't help but notice the tears staining her cheeks.
she had to sit down on the steps to be able to breathe again. her shaky breaths were the only sound in the silence of the garden.
later that night, andromeda apparated just outside of the tall fence of the manor. she didn't want to be seen. the war was over, but her sister was a controversial figure, to say the least.
she had to recollect herself, before she walked into the garden and faced the tombstone. she hadn't seen either of her sisters since she ran away and was disowned. she hadn't even tried to contact them. she was too afraid of the response, or worse, the lack of one.
she stood in front of the grave.
"bellatrix black. beloved sister." was all it read. it only made sense to andromeda.
bellatrix wasn't always a good person, but she was always a good sister.
narcissa stood at the large window and watched her sister below in the garden, kneeling at bella's grave. she didn't try to talk to her, or move, she just stood there and watched her.
conflicted feelings stirred through her. on one hand, she hated andromeda, for leaving her behind. on the other hand, she couldn't. just like she could never hate bella.
narcissa was convinced they had all done their best with what they were dealt. it wasn't enough, but it had to be.
andy chose love and hope.
bella chose bitterness and anger.
cissa chose family.