Black Beauty

Black Beauty

I was always the vain one.

All anyone ever saw when they looked at me was blonde hair and blue eyes. So beautiful, they would say. And since no one expected anything more from me, I decided at a very early age there was no sense in disappointing them.

My days were spent before the mirror. I brushed my hair until it shone like a river of gold. At ten years old I was already wearing make up and as soon as I chose my wand I learned every cosmetic charm I could find. I was beautiful and I loved it. I reveled in the compliments I received.

Bella used to taunt me about it, Andie made disparaging remarks, but Mama loved me. She would take me in her arms and rock me back and forth, spelling my tears away. Women of the Noble House of Black don't cry, she'd tell me. Tears were weakness. Weakness shamed my name. I never cried again.

I saw Mama cry, though.

She cried when Daddy hit her. She cried when her parents died. She cried sometimes for no reason at all.

She was weak.

Daddy's wasn't a face I remember well from my childhood. He wasn't present for most of it. But when he was around he managed to make himself known. He wrapped me up in chains before I was old enough to know it. Even when he was gone, he left a hole in my life, a threat, a warning that he could come back at any time and that I should be waiting.

Bella was the strongest of the three Black sisters. If she wanted something, she just went right ahead and took it. I remember my fifth birthday. She took the music box I got from Grandmere. Then she broke it. If something didn't go her way, she didn't get upset. She wrapped the world around her and made it work for her.

Bella was the Destroyer.

Andromeda, whom I, in my stupid childish innocence, referred to as Andie, was weak. I know that now, of course, but when we were sisters, before her mistake, I looked up to her. I thought she had so much talent, she was so gifted. She would heal what Bella hurt, and she fixed that music box. She didn't really love me, though, she only felt it was her duty to fix Bella's crimes.

Andie was the Creator.

I looked up to my older sisters for different reasons. Bella was beautiful in an effortless way, and she had so much power, or so I thought. I was in awe of her and she took advantage of that. She made me her servant and I obeyed, never complaining because it was more than I deserved from the goddess. Andie would have been beautiful if she had tried; we were the Black sisters after all. Beauty was in our blood. Andie interfered with Bella often, not because she cared for my welfare, but because she truly hated our eldest sister.

Mama died young, but I didn't cry. I was being watched for weakness, and I knew better than to show it. Daddy stood by my side, his hand heavy on my arm. All the weight of the pride in our name fell upon my shoulders. I felt the chains. I was seventeen, in my last year at Hogwarts.

My cousin Sirius came to me after the ceremony. He was such a boy.

"How come you didn't cry?"

I didn't much care for my cousins. They were dirty little boys, and so very weak. Regulus showed some promise, I thought, but Sirius was hopeless.

"Why should I?" I replied, my head held high, my eyes colder than ice.

He peered at me from under a mop of dark hair. "Your Mum died."

"So?"

And he wandered off. Andie had watched the exchange, tears still streaming down her face, and shook her head sadly. That was the day I decided Andie wasn't my sister anymore.

Bella took me under her wing. After discussing it with Daddy she arranged a marriage for me with an eligible pureblooded man who had been a few years ahead of her at school. I accepted this because the two people in my life whom I respected decreed that it should be so.

It wasn't as if we were thrown together on our wedding day. Bella had respect for Lucius Malfoy even if she had none for me. Parties and dinners were thrown, we were formerly introduced, and Lucius was smitten with me right from the start. After all, I was young, beautiful, and pureblooded. What more could he ask for?

I admired him. He was so powerful, so promising. He commanded the respect of men older than he. Well sought after, Lucius was also rich and handsome. I was lucky to have found such a perfect match.

And like Bella, he was a follower of the Dark Lord.

I was only twenty-one when we were married, and other than my devotion to my sister and father, I hadn't decided where my loyalties lay. Lucius changed that for me.

He showed me that I, vain and naive as I was, could have my own power. Ever since childhood, watching the people around me, it was something I secretly craved. I never thought I could have it. After all, I was beautiful, but so simple. I wasn't Bella.

He won my devotion by gifting me with power. He showed me that my beauty was a weapon I had to harness. He showed me how.

In return I gave him a son.

And yet, sometimes I dare to think that the pupil has surpassed the teacher. Neither Bella, who taught me obedience, nor Lucius, who taught me strength, have realised just what they have made me.

Draco is as much mine as he is his father's. There is a bond between us stronger than any bond I have ever known. It is a bond he cannot escape. Rebel as he undoubtedly will against his father, he will only love me. He will be devoted to me.

At three years old, he ran into my room, babbling about a nightmare. Tears poured down his tiny fragile cheeks. I took him in my lap, rocked him back and forth, and told him that tears were weakness. Weakness brought shame on his family.

He hasn't cried since.

I am beautiful, but it is poisonous beauty. They love my golden hair, my clear blue eyes, and perfect face. And so they will do anything for me. I use them and then toss them aside. At my husband's behest I lure men into my trap and crush them beneath my heel. I do as I have been taught and give them confidence. Then I strip it from them and leave them naked in the cold.

Daddy thought he controlled me, but I had him wrapped around a single delicate finger because I adored him. He fed off my reverence. When I took it back and gave it to another, he died.

I play this game with Lucius, though he doesn't realise it. He needs me. I am his weakness. And I use this craving to my full advantage.

Bella, too, must now rely on her little sister. I have the power now. I have a position and wealth. I am also in control of the one thing she can never have: a child. Oh how she is jealous! Her blood will die out, but mine will live on, strong and powerful. My Draco, he shall be greater than even his father. Because he will have me.

I am, above all, Narcissa.

Narcissa is the Deceiver.