Hermione: [inhales]
Harry: If you're about to say you hate Narcissa, you should know that I saw you guys snogging inside your office last week.

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@cissamionelife
Hermione: [inhales]
Harry: If you're about to say you hate Narcissa, you should know that I saw you guys snogging inside your office last week.
Inspired by @naralanis ' The Adventures of Soft Butch Hermione series in ao3.
If you need to reach us, @drabsyo and I are in superheck.
Send help.
Helen McCrory in the National Theatre’s production of The Deep Blue Sea [2016]
Fanon Narcissa will never cease to baffle me. Narcissa was not some soft, sweet-spoken girl who just let people trample over her, who kept her head down, and never spoke like her lips were sealed shut. Sure, she was quiet; but not in the way she's soft, but calculating. Smart. Her mind is sharp, her words carry meaning, carry power, perhaps not in the stinging, blinding, painful way Bellatrix's does, but in the spaces between every word, something binding and searing lingers. She is a Slytherin Princess, essentially, the prime example of a Slytherin girl should be; sharp, fast, witty, powerful but not so exceedingly powerful it's obvious. She is the queen pawn in the chess board; the most powerful player, because she knows when to move to give her the right options. She is an ornated dagger that cuts far deeper than it should, she is the fuzzy bubble of poison in a silver wine goblet. She knows her place as a Black; she toys with that power like a Black would. She was spoiled by Druella, by her older sisters, always adorned in pearls and silver jewelry, black lace and silk dresses, anything she wanted she snapped her fingers and had serves on a silver platter. She was pureblood elegance. Thoughtful, charismatic. Perfect. She is quiet, yes, but not in the way people seem to be saying she is.
She shows time and time again that she KNOWS when to speak up, and yet the most popular characterization of her is this quiet, never-speaks-for-the-sake-of-the-family girl who sits there in silence like the emptiness of it is her own cage?
Don’t even get me STARTED on the mischaracterization of Lucius…ESPECIALLY in relation to Narcissa. People make him out to be this horrible abusive man when THERE IS NOTHING in cannon to even suggest that…now, mind you, disliking him because he’s a DE is a PERFECTLY REASONABLE! But this whole “abusive husband” characterization is NOT even close to how he’d ACTUALLY behave from what we’ve seen of him in canon. could yap abt it for hours but this post is abt Cissa, not her husband I’ll yap abt him another time
Mind you, you can still make Cissa sapphic without having to make her husband abusive and have her in some abusive or neglectful marriage that spawned as an idea out of nowhere in the fandom…you don’t need to butcher both of their characters in order to make her a lesbian or sapphic 😭
Anyway yeah sorry I had to yap it pisses me off SO bad
( @space-girliee @flightless-swan @marriedtonarcissablack @miraclemoony @r0sekiller08 @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @withdevovotion @jam-pots @lady-of-the-pomegranates @whispers-unspoken @princesswidget @yourstrulyyana @carkissmolded @mothwingsmayy )
Thank you, professor.
Farewell, Professor McGonagall.
Raise your wand for the one and only Dame Maggie Smith /*
some best friends, some longing
✨The witches of Black family✨
Library
(Narcissa/Hermione, 250 words, ao3, @sapphicmicrofics)
“Darling, I would like nothing more than to wake up with you every morning. Please say you’ll move in with me.“
Hermione had started walking further into the room but froze two steps away from Narcissa and slowly turned around. Narcissa winced at the inelegant timing of her question. She’d meant to give Hermione time to explore rather than just blurting it out the minute they entered the last room on the tour.
“It doesn’t have to be here,” Narcissa continued. “We could move into your flat or find somewhere new together. Whatever you want.”
Another beat of silence and Narcissa started to panic. It was too early. They were only months into their relationship and this was Hermione’s first time visiting Black Manor. As Narcissa stood there, mentally berating herself, the surprise on Hermione’s face was slowly overtaken by a brilliant smile.
“Yes,” the younger witch said breathlessly as she stepped back towards Narcissa, grabbing both of the blonde’s hands in her own. “I would love to live with you.”
Narcissa let out a sigh of relief. Of course it worked. Her plan was genius, her timing impeccable. Narcissa had expertly exploited this particular weakness of Hermione’s.
“Marvelous!” Narcissa exclaimed. “So, here or —”
Hermione chuckled. “You only gave me a minute to take in the library, but I think you know very well that I can’t agree to live anywhere else now that I’ve seen it. This was a cunning way to ask.”
“I am a Slytherin, after all.”
Our Colors
Narcissa Black and Hermione Granger fanart based on Torment, my Cissamione fanfic that is available on AO3 and Wattpad.
🔗 On AO3
🔗 On Wattpad
#From Mind to Heart Art
Obsessed with Blinding Light rn ❤️❤️ slow burn to the maxxxxx
Link here:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“You told me that it was never meant to be,” Hermione somehow managed to shout, even as her voice kept cracking, “That it could never work. Those were your words, Narcissa.”
Please, call me Cissa again. A simple plea from the depths of her heart her mouth couldn’t utter.
“So, no. You don’t get to say anything to me anymore,” Hermione added her eyes filled with tears, but also with unrelenting determination. That same determination Narcissa had been first captivated by, was now used to shatter her heart.
Please, smile at me once more. Oh, what she would not have given to see even a hint of softness in her now.
Hermione backed away from her, before tearing her eyes from Narcissa and storming out. Narcissa was left standing alone and her throat ached as she fought to keep at bay the tears her heart wanted to cry out.
Please, don’t leave me. She begged in her mind.
When a sob tried to escape she covered her mouth with her hand and only then realized how hard she was shaking. A sob, muffled by her palm, finally got out and she dropped on the couch as the tears came.
Please, come back to me. But as much as she hoped, it was never going to be.
After all, it was exactly what she deserved. Her stubbornness and arrogance had cost her the only person that could love her. For real. Not for her titles or for her social status. Just for her.
Please, let me try again.
She fell on her side, hugging a pillow and her heart ached. She closed her eyes and whispered her last plea -
“Please, Hermione. I love you.”
Ma'am, I want to be the reason your lipstick is smudged.
“Please, look at me,” Hermione pleads as Narcissa turns her head aside. She can’t look at the her, can’t look at the tears she has caused. She would like nothing more but to brush them away. To hold her in her arms, but she can’t.
The chatter in the room quiets down and Narcissa knows everyone is looking at them now. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, and sighs as annoyed as she can. “Let go of me, you-” and her heart clenches as the words she never thought she would utter, roll off her tongue, “-filthy mudblood.”
so... um... would it be possible to make your angsty drabble... a little... happier? because ouch? (Really great btw but ouch)
Well, because you asked so nicely, I did my best. I assumed you meant this one? If not then at least I tried to fix a drabble.
Weeks passed, and Narcissa stayed mostly at home. It was easier to pretend everything was fine when she didn’t have to do it in front of others.
Her son had noticed something was wrong and refused to believe her even as she kept telling him that everything was fine.
As had her sister who kept asking her what had happened.
Neither one had no idea, of course, why her expression was so pained when she thought no one was looking. No one knew of the woman she now tried so hard not to think about.
Unfortunately, her dreams were harder to control.
Hermione appeared almost every night – only to leave her again.
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