𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜.
𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 | narcissa druella malfoy née black.
𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 | july 1st, 1954 ( 25 )
𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜 | she / her.
𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 | pureblood.
𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | voldemort’s army ( mundus novus ).
𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 | milena tscharntke.
𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢.
From the beginning, there was nothing.
A child with a black hole in their heart, could you imagine? Passion imbued in the first two Black children, Narcissa comes porcelain and blonde from her mother’s womb, but she's no angel. A reflection of her name, she has never known anything but her parents’ path, forged in prestige and blood. There is no room for mercy. There is no room for tears.
But woven into her core is obedience, so she follows along, chin up in the street, head down in her heart. The sorting hat barely touches her blonde head before she is declared a Slytherin, the surge of pride coming not from her heart, but her mother’s words — you are a Pureblood first, Narcissa second. Though she is neither a remarkable student nor a great leader, she knows that there is strength in numbers, in being a follower for a cause so deeply embedded into her soul.
There’d been gossip. Whispers of a Dark Wizard working towards a solution towards the ever-encroaching population with adulterated blood, and Narcissa is neither intrigued nor horrified. After all, though she’d never cared much for the Mudbloods and Mixed students, she’d practiced a strict policy of avoidance — so long as they did not come near her, she didn’t care.
And yet, she cannot stop Bella, her sister, her idol from enlisting the ranks, despite the unspeakable dangers she would be putting herself in. After all, the sympathizers are not unpowerful, boasting their fair share of magical strength, and Narcissa is worried. It is only another slap in the face when Dromeda marries a Mudblood as well, and for the first time in her life, Narcissa feels the weight of the world and her family name on her shoulders.
She succeeds.
A Malfoy, equal in prestige but far more wealthy, enraptured by her beauty and good standing, takes Narcissa as a wife, and she swells with pride. She’d known Lucius at Hogwarts, but he’d always been a far-flung, roguishly handsome boy who was years ahead of her. And now, she’d be the matriarch, a continuation of a near-pure bloodline, and her ego swells. She is no longer in the shadow of Bella, sullied by Andromeda, she is queen.
And yet, the nothingness remains.
She is always Narcissa second, third, fourth to Pureblood, Black, Malfoy. There is no room for her to spread her wings despite the sprawling manor — the space only serves to amplify the emptiness gnawing at her chest. She follows Lucius to the Dark Lord, though the man is nothing but cruel and vindictive, she follows, always follows, with her chin glued to her chest.
After all, what choice does she have?
A woman’s choice is one cloaked with man’s desire, and she knows it all-too well. There is no choice for her, not when she’d become a Slytherin, not when she’d married Lucius Malfoy, not when she’d joined the ranks in Voldemort’s Army. It certainly isn’t her choice to be entangled in Mundus Novus as well, though she is promised glory and riches and her ( rightful ) place at the top of the chain. She is promised everything under the sun, a way to emerge from the shadows, to let her wings fall open in all its beauty.
Perhaps, when she has everything, she can finally plug the ever-hungry hole in her chest once and for all.
𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜.
+ dutiful, responsible, eloquent
= obedient, reticent, meticulous
- vain, aloof, pessimistic
𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.
𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜 → here.
𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 → here.
