"It's me, sister…"
Upon hearing the familiar yet unfamiliar voice, Bellatrix leaped up from the cold floor and slammed herself against the cell door, a loud crash echoing down the corridor.
Through the small window in the door, Narcissa could see that Bellatrix's eyes were filled with crimson bloodshot lines. Just like her cousin Sirius Black, the long-term imprisonment in Azkaban had taken a heavy toll on her once beautiful appearance—her face was pale, haggard, and gaunt, and her once glossy black hair was matted. But even so, it was still clear that she had once been beautiful.
"Heh hahahaha…" Bellatrix let out a maniacal laugh, revealing her black teeth. She stared at her elegantly dressed sister, and whether out of excitement or mockery, she began to speak, "Narcissa, my dear sister, you've finally come to see me, heh heh heh…"
Narcissa's face was expressionless. She simply took a small piece of bread from the basket she was holding and handed it through the window. "Have some to eat…"
A rich scent of wheat instantly filled the air. Bellatrix's eyes widened, and her expression changed to one of craving for normal food. Without any hesitation, she snatched the bread from Narcissa's hand and shoved it into her mouth. It was obvious that she hadn't had a proper meal in a very long time.
The food provided to serious criminals in Azkaban was usually just a bowl of cold mush a day, with a small amount of cabbage and other unknown minced meat. That was all.
The law in the British wizarding world had no death penalty, but that didn't necessarily mean it was a good thing. Especially in a place like Azkaban, people like Bellatrix, who had committed many evil deeds, were left to become Dementor fodder, their days filled with fear, cold, and hunger until they died alone.
To be honest, there was nothing worse than being alive. Who could have imagined that death would become an absolute luxury here?
At this moment, Narcissa couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache seeing her sister in this state. A long time ago, the three Black sisters were inseparable and told each other everything. But decades had passed, and people and things had changed. They had all gone down different paths.
She never understood what her sister had gained after sacrificing so much for Voldemort. Anyone could see that Voldemort had always just been using her emotions…
Narcissa suppressed the bitterness in her heart and began to state the purpose of her visit to Azkaban. "Bella, I'm only here today for one thing!" Her mouth didn't move, but strangely, Bellatrix could hear her voice.
This was because, to prevent eavesdropping in a heavily guarded place like Azkaban, Narcissa was using a secret technique exclusive to the Black family for transmitting information. Outsiders couldn't hear their conversation at all.
Bellatrix's mouth was stuffed with bread, and crumbs were clinging to the corners of her lips. She was stunned to hear her sister suddenly using a secret technique to talk to her, and she stared at Narcissa with a suspicious look. After all, if it wasn't to talk about something unspeakable, Narcissa wouldn't have needed to do this.
"Bella, the Master is about to return!" Narcissa said slowly, her voice even trembling a little. This emotion wasn't faked. It was because the fear that Voldemort had branded onto the hearts of all his Death Eaters could not be eradicated.
When Bellatrix heard the news about Voldemort, her eyes instantly widened. She pressed her eyes tightly against the small, two-finger-high window of the cell door, her eyes filled with a terrifying madness. "Where is the Master? Tell me everything you know!!!"
"I can't tell you where he is, but he is very weak now. He instructed us to collect some of his old belongings to help him with his resurrection. I came to Azkaban today to ask you, where are the items that the Master gave you?" Narcissa spoke quickly, her tone conveying a sense of urgency.
But Bellatrix clearly didn't believe Narcissa's words. Her eyes suddenly dimmed for a moment before instantly turning to a crazed look. She began to let out a mocking laugh. "Narcissa, my naive sister! Have you forgotten that we grew up together? I know you too well. Do you think I would believe what you just said?!
"The Master isn't dead, is he… hahahaha, I knew it! He's been waiting for me to come back… heh heh hahahaha!" Bellatrix let out a maniacal laugh, her evil eyes mockingly looking at her sister. She wanted to see how Narcissa would react now that she had been exposed.
But very quickly, she was surprised. The expression on Narcissa's face hadn't changed at all, and there was even a hint of a struggle in her eyes. She discreetly turned her head to check both sides, and after making sure there were no patrolling guards nearby, she slowly rolled up her left sleeve, revealing a corner of a mark that looked like black smoke.
That's right, it was the symbol of the Death Eaters—the Dark Mark.
The Dark Mark looked like a figure made of goblins, a gigantic skull made of countless emerald-green star-like things, with a ferocious snake slithering out of its mouth like a large tongue, making the whole thing look very bizarre.
This mark was used by Voldemort to instill terror. In the past, every time a Death Eater killed someone, they would leave the Dark Mark over the body or the house to intimidate people. It was usually branded onto the left forearm of every person who joined the Death Eaters.
Whenever Voldemort was powerful or nearby, the mark on the Death Eaters' arms would burn and become clearer and redder. Also, if Voldemort pressed the Dark Mark on a Death Eater's arm, he could summon the other Death Eaters. At that point, they had to immediately Apparate to Voldemort's side and obey his commands.
But if the summoned Death Eater didn't arrive in time, the Dark Mark would turn scorched black. And when a Death Eater touched the mark on their left forearm, Voldemort could also feel the summons and Apparate to their side.
Bellatrix's eyes instantly widened when she saw the Dark Mark in her cell. She knew that her sister hadn't had a Dark Mark before. Her expression changed from initial disdain to disbelief, then to suspicion, and finally to pure obsession.
Bellatrix pressed against the cell door, trying to reach out her fingers. She wanted to touch the Dark Mark on Narcissa's arm, even if it meant scraping the skin off her hands. But unfortunately, after living in Azkaban for over a decade, even in her emaciated state, she could at most only extend four fingers barely outside the cell.
What Bellatrix didn't know was that the Dark Mark on Narcissa's arm was actually a very elaborate disguise created by her husband. Lucius had even paid a considerable amount of Galleons to purchase an alchemical item that could temporarily replicate the Dark Mark.
Narcissa expressionlessly put her sleeve down and continued, "The Dark Lord needs to be resurrected. You must tell me where the items he gave you are!"
When Bellatrix saw that she couldn't touch the Dark Mark, the look in her eyes towards Narcissa instantly became filled with resentment. She resented her sister because if only she would move her arm closer, she could once again feel the Master's power.
"You're still lying to me!" Bellatrix transmitted the message again using the secret technique. Her eyes were still filled with doubt. Although she didn't know what Narcissa was looking for, or what the purpose of her search was, she was very clear about how powerful Voldemort was!
He wouldn't need to secretly send her sister to Azkaban to ask about some old belongings. It was a completely unnecessary move. Besides, even if Voldemort was very weak right now and couldn't act on his own, the number of Death Eaters back then was considerable. Besides those who had died and those who were imprisoned in Azkaban, a portion of them had escaped capture and were still active outside.
If Voldemort really needed certain things to be resurrected, the first thing he should do would be to summon his former followers. With their abilities, they could help him accomplish most things. So, even though Narcissa showed her the Dark Mark, Bellatrix still found it hard to believe her.
When Narcissa saw that Bellatrix didn't believe her, she felt a little anxious. She had an idea and suddenly began to speak again. "Bella! I'm not lying to you! We went to your old house, but we didn't find what the Master was looking for, so one person has already been killed! Sister, I beg you! Draco is in their hands! You must tell me where the item is, or they will kill him!"
As Narcissa said this, she seemed a little hysterical. When Bellatrix heard the pleading tone in her sister's voice, she felt a little moved. Especially when she heard the name "Draco," the last bit of familial love buried deep in her heart caused her loyalty to her Master to waver for a moment.
The hollows of Bellatrix's cheeks twitched imperceptibly, and she asked, "Draco… is he your son?"
Narcissa didn't say anything, she just nodded…
Having received the answer she didn't want to hear, the madness on Bellatrix's face gradually faded. She lowered her head, and after what felt like an eternity, she slowly retreated to the darkest corner of the cell and said, "Leave. I won't tell you where the cup is!"
Upon hearing this, Narcissa's eyes wavered for a moment, but she quickly calmed down. She wrapped the remaining breadsticks from the basket in parchment and pushed them through the cell window one by one. This was probably the only thing she could do for her poor sister. The basket was now empty.
Before leaving, Narcissa took one last look at the figure in the deepest part of the cell. In the dim light, she could faintly see that Bellatrix seemed to be licking her left arm, which was her way of expressing her obsessive love for her Master…
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