Sad is a three-letter word|Cissy
Black families could be extraordinarily traditional, and only those who survived could understand what was going on. Narcissa had been exposed to attacks on her sister, but never for herself. She had quickly learned to move as she wanted, to act as she planned, and she just needed to survive. This word always caused many emotions for some, but not for Narcissa.
She had been ordered to look for Regulus. His absence at the meeting had been noticed, and she knew well that he was not on good terms with his parents. She could intercede as much as she could, but there were limits that she needed to survive as well. So when Narcissa reached the seventh park looking for her cousin, she was relieved to see his figure there.
Narcissa had a bottle of alcohol and some cigarettes with her, as well as an answer he might need. Her high-heeled shoes sank into the grass, and she almost cursed it if she wasn’t too focused. “Reg.” She managed to say while smiling a little and showing what she had brought.
Regulus wanted to go home, but he didn’t want to move. He had no idea what to do. He never felt so lost in his life, he brought his knees up to his chest trying to tell himself that this is a good thing. He wouldn’t have the pressure that came with being a Black. That he could quit his job and be the Quidditch player he always wanted to be. As if to remind him that leaving his family behind was a death wish, his dark mark ached. Maybe death would be better than this, he didn’t think he could even go through with his task anyways. He paused when he heard Cissy.
He gasped quickly trying to wipe his eyes and appear to not been sobbing his eyes out. There was nothing he could do about the blood dripping and sign deeply. “ Cissy.” He said trying to smile, but it fell short. His eyes fall to her hands and he could start crying all over again. He held his hand out for the bottle and smokes.