AKA: Druella is a despicable monster, I'M SORRY
“That document details the proceedings of an investigation of my family—of me, more specifically—that took place from late 1980 to early 1984, give or take.” Narcissa spoke firmly but softly, in a monotone shrouded in practiced nonchalance. It contrasted horribly to the clear worry in her gaze.
“However, I do believe it would be... beneficial for us to go a little further back, if only so that you may perhaps understand it all a bit more clearly.”
Hermione nodded, watching intently as Narcissa perused the numerous phials neatly arranged on the wall with a pained expression. “Whatever you think is best.”
Narcissa took a long time to select a memory—she hesitated between several, running her fingers over the phials and making them rattle faintly as she murmured to herself under her breath. Once she finally settled on one, her eyes seemed to glaze over as she read the label. Hermione couldn't read it from where she stood, and before she could try, Narcissa's palm closed over the phial in a white-knuckled grip.
Her gaze was icy when it met Hermione's.
“I will warn you one last time,” she said sombrely as she uncorked the phial, pouring the silvery smoke of her memories down into the ethereal swirls of the Pensieve. “You will learn awful things. You'll witness awful things, and you'll wish—” her voice broke— "you'll wish I had never showed you.”
Hermione met her gaze head on, refusing to falter. “I'll make up my own mind—but thank you. For warning me.”
Blue eyes narrowed and Narcissa's arm stretched over the Pensieve—her hand was cold to the touch once Hermione took it, and her words were lost to the swirls of the memories below.