Howdy, my third H.P fic. This is based on Narcissa Malfoy and her escapades at Hogwarts. I had so much fun writing this... I was going to make it single standing but I think I'll break up into two parts. R/R! Characters are copyrighted to J.K Rowling.
.:Chapter 1:.
Narcissa Malfoy sat gracefully brushing out her long golden hair in front of the ornate mahogany dressing table – a most welcome wedding gift. Her hair was like spun gold, shimmering in the glow of the soft candlelight...yet subtly intermingled with her golden locks was a strand of grey. A frown creased the delicate complexion of the blonde beauty as she plucked the troublesome strand from its flaxen counterparts. Her deep blue eyes studied the grey hair in disgust in the same way one would regard excrement on one's boot. This grey hair was an imperfection and imperfections were not tolerated in the Malfoy family. Narcissa snatched the hair up in a clenched fist, feeling the sting of old age prick her all over...if there was one thing Narcissa could ever, would ever be scared of, it would be old age. Old age signified uncertainty, deterioration and worst of all loss...loss of the things most dear to her. Her impossible cobalt eyes glanced towards a silver framed picture of a handsome youth with silver-blonde hair and cold blue-grey eyes. His tall frame was clad in black robes, the Slytherin sigil emblazoned over his heart. A slight smile tugged at the corners of Narcissa's rosebud mouth as she reached over to pick up the picture. The frame was gilded silver engraved with emerald eyed serpents writhing about the photo it encased. Her son was so like his father when he was that age... the same arrogant personality and that same commanding demeanour that had women kissing the ground he walked on. Narcissa allowed a smile to gently break across her serious countenance as she recollected some of the more memorable events of her tenure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; events that would change her life for better and for worse.
"Merlin, Cissa!" exclaimed an exasperated Bellatrix Black. "Are you ready yet?"
"In a second," came the hurried reply.
"Ugh, you said that ten minutes ago! You know I can't stand waiting," rasped her sister irately. "I was supposed to meet Rodolphus ages ago!"
Bellatrix Black ran an impatient hand through her raven-black hair. Rolling her dark almond-shaped eyes, she began to pace up and down outside her sister's room. Bellatrix never waited for anybody...she was tempted just to leave her sister behind and go to Hogsmeade without her.
"Look Narcissa, I'm going," started Bellatrix. "I'm...
However, before she could finish, the oak door swung open revealing a rather impeccably turned out Narcissa Black. Her golden hair trailed down her back, tussling softly around her shoulders while her piercing blue eyes appeared as sapphires set on snow. On first glance, it would be forgivable to suggest that, due to their differing appearances, Bellatrix and Narcissa could in no way be sisters; Bellatrix with her dark aristocratic good looks, Narcissa with the unearthly beauty of a fragile ice maiden. It was rumoured that somewhere in the Black tree resided Veela blood; if this was the case then Narcissa was definitely blessed with its ethereal beauty.
"Ready," cut in Narcissa. "I'm ready."
"About time," scowled Bellatrix.
The two Slytherin girls started down the spiralling staircase from the girl's dormitories towards the common room. Bellatrix, naturally, led the way down ahead of her sister; such was the way of a Slytherin prefect, especially one of her standing. Although, she was only in her fifth year, Bellatrix was a force to be reckoned with...
"Hey Bella," smiled a rather plump Slytherin girl. "You're looking great!"
Bellatrix turned and looked at Narcissa, both girls burst out laughing.
"I know I look great," drawled Bellatrix arrogantly. "I don't need someone like you telling me I am,"
"I...I was just being p-polite," stuttered the Slytherin.
"W-w-well, d-don't," mimicked Bellatrix cruelly. "Now get out of my way."
The young Slytherin girl hurried past the two sisters, tears welling in her eyes.
"Circe, I hate people like that," snarled Bellatrix.
Narcissa simply shrugged her shoulders. Unlike her sister, Narcissa was not the type to openly humiliate people; she preferred the more subtle approach: manipulation.
"Tut, tut Miss Black," drawled a soft, cool voice. "Must you continually insult all our less fortunate peers? That poor, poor girl."
A tall blonde haired youth leaned idly against the wall adjoining the stair way to the common room, his arms folded across his chest.
"What's this?" countered Bellatrix, her dark eyes flashing. "Lucius the Compassionate? Say it isn't so."
Lucius merely allowed a slight smirk to pass across his curved lips. Unlike Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy was in his sixth year at Hogwarts, and captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He carried an air of arrogance and egoism, not unexpected of a Slytherin prefect and certainly not unexpected of the heir of Malfoy.
Narcissa allowed herself a moment to study the features of the handsome prefect while her sister engaged him in a conversation about the whereabouts of Rodolphus Lestrange.
"All I know is that the damned upstart should have attended Quidditch practice this morning," Lucius replied obstinately. "He'll do well to remember that we have a match soon... against Gryffindor no less."
She had never seen the young Malfoy this close, only from afar and, of course, everyone had heard all the gossip about his, as the Slytherins girls put it, amazing good looks but, in the end, she wanted to judge for herself. Both his hair and his eyes were his most distinguishing features. His well kept mane of white-blonde hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, deliberately allowing stray locks to frame his angular face. His skin was deathly white, unblemished by the usual teenage complaints; however, it was his steely eyes that truly caught Narcissa's attention...so cold yet so profound.
"Bellatrix Black, how rude of you not to introduce me to your friend," interrupted Lucius, startling Narcissa who had realised she had begun to stare.
"Interrupt me why don't you?" retorted Bellatrix angrily. "I was just about to say..."
"Something that doesn't explain why you haven't introduced me to your friend," cut in Lucius quickly.
"Ugh, fine...Lucius Malfoy, this is my sister Nar-,"
"Narcissa...Narcissa Black," interjected her sister coolly.
"This is the infamous Bellatrix Black's younger sister?" replied Lucius amusedly, his eyes studying her. "Well, it is a pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Miss Black."
Narcissa felt a rush of blood heading towards her cheeks but somehow she miraculously managed to retain her icy, emotionless exterior. She would not allow the, already, inflated ego of the Malfoy heir to grow any bigger by letting him see her blush. She met his eyes with the frostiest glance she could muster and nodded her head, allowing several golden locks to fall across her face.
"A girl of few words," smiled Malfoy. "How completely unlike you, Bellatrix."
"Oh, how well you know me Lucius," Bellatrix sneered sarcastically.
"Well, it is a subject I take pride in knowing a great deal about," retorted Lucius slyly, a coy grin toying with the corners of his mouth.
Narcissa glanced from her sister to the captain of the Slytherin team; there was something more that just Slytherin camaraderie between the two prefects. Jealousy left a bitter taste in the mouth of the younger Black sister, a taste she hadn't experienced in a long time.
"As much as I'd love to sit and play sardonic table tennis with you, Bellatrix, I must take my leave," Lucius sighed sarcastically.
"Good riddance," countered Bellatrix, flashing him a sly smile.
Lucius raised his eyebrows suggestively, a seductive grin creeping across his lips.
"Good riddance, hm?" mused Lucius. "I may have to severely reprimand you for disrespecting your elders, Black."
"Really? I'm positively petrified," replied Bellatrix acerbically.
Lucius once again, allowed only a slight smile to grace his flushed lips; he was far more intrigued by the quieter Black girl than the flirtations of her overtly confident sister. There was something about this Narcissa Black; something intangible even, that, somehow, prevented her from becoming other one of those unremarkable wallflowers. The girl was truly an enigma, so cold and distant... It was almost as if she had shielded herself behind a wall of ice, refusing to let anyone in.
"Bellatrix, you never cease to amaze me with your incessant sarcasm," Lucius sighed, he then turned to face Narcissa. "Until next time then... Narcissa Black."
He gave her a slight nod of his head, and headed towards the Slytherin common room. Narcissa allowed her cheeks to flush, her hair falling across her face, shielding her from her sister's eyes. If her sister saw her blushing then she would immediately jump to the wrong conclusion... not that there was any conclusion to jump to, of course. He was in sixth year and she was only in her third... nothing could ever happen, much to Narcissa's dismay.
The two girls walked into the common room where both were greeted by their respective friendship groups.
"Well, well if isn't the Serpentine Queen herself," greeted a thin, dark haired youth, his voice drenched in amused sarcasm. "Another fashionably late appearance?"
"Of course," replied Bellatrix tossing her hair, a smug smile plastered across her face, "Would you expect any less, Rodolphus?"
"Not from you," smiled Rodolphus Lestrange, "Definitely not from you."
Rodolphus Lestrange was a fifth year prefect and Slytherin House's Seeker. His lithe frame and newly acquired Nimbus 1000 broomstick made him one of the most dangerous players on the Quidditch pitch. However, his real talent lay in Defence Against the Dark Arts...or more than likely the Dark Arts themselves. Both he and his brother, Rabastan Lestrange, had an unusual fondness for the most obscure books...books that were not even permitted in the restricted section of Hogwarts' Library.
"Where do you get all these from?" Bellatrix had muttered, her hands sifting through piles of old leather bound books and manuscripts.
"Penfriend at Durmstrang," Rodolphus had replied coquettishly, arranging the old tomes in chronological order. "...Name's, Antonin Dolohov."
"Dolohov... sounds familiar," muttered Bellatrix as she studied a page about the known effects of the Cruciatus curse.
"Probably because his parents are banged up in Azkaban...It was all over the Daily Prophet about a year ago." Lestrange sighed. "Something about the use of an Unforgivable Curse on a family of mudbloods."
Bellatrix looked up from the ancient text, her dark eyes narrowed menacingly.
"Serves them right," she scowled, "They got what was coming to them...filthy mudbloods."
"Bellatrix Black, I couldn't agree more," grinned Rodolphus Lestrange, his blue eyes flashing amber in the flickering candlelight.
End of Ch.1. Did you enjoy? Hope so... o.O Well give me a review and I'll put the second half up soon.