Dealing with the Devil

Pausing to straighten the Slytherin Prefect's badge on her new school robes, Narcissa looked out across the bustling platform. The Hogwarts Express was filling with students, who dragged their trunks, pets, friends and siblings into the various compartments; it was, as usual, a raucous and chaotic scene. Narcissa was not fond of chaos, but she was fond of Hogwarts and the school train, so she did not mind the bustle as much as she normally would.

Orion Black had come to the station to see them off, something that was unusual for him; Bellatrix, too, had come, the first year Narcissa could remember when Bellatrix hadn't been heading off to Hogwarts herself. Andromeda had left her parents as soon as they'd all arrived at the platform, gone off to join her Gryffindor friends.

Narcissa felt very alone. Riding the train without Bellatrix for company would be odd - not that Narcissa had much liked being Bella's "younger sister" on the train rides, watching Bella receive the affections of her eager paramours and commanding the lower-form Slytherins like a queen, but it had been company. There was only one other Slytherin girl in Narcissa's year, and they'd never gotten on very well. Train rides would have been very lonely without Bellatrix.

This year, however, was going to be the start of something new, Narcissa determined. She was a prefect, after all, with a beautiful badge and a new set of school robes Ariadne had ordered the night after Lucius's party, in a fit of good humor.

"Well, time to say goodbye," Ariadne said with a slight sniff. She turned to embrace her youngest daughter, but for once Narcissa only suffered her mother's affections, and did not return them as wholeheartedly as she had in years previous. Narcissa was, after all, a young woman now - a young lady, she corrected herself. And young ladies did not allow their mothers to fuss over them as if they were five.

"I'll write about the Sorting this week, mother," Narcissa said. "Our cousin Regulus is starting his first year, isn't he?"

"Mmm," Ariadne said in pensive agreement. "Well, off you go, Cissy - you'll miss the train if you're not careful!"

With a final wave toward Bellatrix, who was lounging with almost insolent casualness against the wall, and her father, who stood ramrod straight as always, Narcissa murmured "locomotor trunk!" and levitated her trunk toward the prefect compartment, at the front of the train. It was very hard not to turn around to wave at her parents again, but, as Narcissa reminded herself, young ladies of the House of Black had more dignity than to squall like a child when leaving for Hogwarts.

The prefects' compartment, to Narcissa's delight, was an island of order and calm in a sea of chaos. Most of the other prefects had already arrived, sitting by house and year, the seats near the front reserved for the older prefects and the Head Boy and Girl. A friendly Hufflepuff fifth-year, Benjamin Fenwick, tried to help Narcissa with her luggage, but she shrugged him away.

"I can manage without your help, thank you!" she snapped, levitating the trunk onto the luggage rack. He was a Muggleborn, too - she couldn't help but shudder in revulsion where he'd touched the bare skin on her hand.

Narcissa sat herself down by Evan Rosier, unsurprisingly her fellow fifth-year prefect for Slytherin. "Did you have a good summer, Evan?" she asked politely.

"Alright," he said, with the same studied casualness Bellatrix always had when she was sitting on some particularly juicy bit of information. "Father took me up to Wales. I met some interesting wizards."

Narcissa didn't ask more; Evan was by nature secretive and supercilious, and if all he wanted to give were tantalizing hints, she wouldn't gratify him by asking more.

"Do you know who's Head Boy?" she asked. She had one particular seventh-year prefect in mind, of course, but he hadn't shown up yet, either.

"No idea," Evan said, "but Head Girl is Dorcas Meadows from Ravenclaw."

"That cow?" Narcissa exclaimed in disgust. "I swear, I think Dumbledore's purposefully making Muggleborns prefects over the rest - if Slytherin had any, I wouldn't wonder if he did!"

"What about your sister?" Evan said slyly. "Unless you're saying your mother was a little less than faithful..."

"Oh, shut up about my mother, Evan!" Narcissa snapped, and was pleased to hear that for a moment she'd been nearly as imperious as Bellatrix. She'd have to try that commanding tone more often, now that she was a prefect. "Anyway, Andromeda's such a blood traitor she might as well be a Mudblood anyway."

"Here, now, none of that," said a mildly offended voice. Narcissa looked up to meet the eyes of Ted Tonks, the seventh-year prefect for Hufflepuff. Or rather, she noticed with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, the new Head Boy.

"I'll talk however I want, Tonks," Narcissa said stiffly.

"No, you won't, or I'll dock points from Slytherin. Given that I'm Head Boy now, I've the perfect right. Do at least try to be civil when in mixed company." He said it all very pleasantly, but it didn't stop Narcissa from bristling.

In a fierce whisper to Evan, Narcissa said, "There, you see? What'd I tell you - both the Head Boy and the Head Girl are Muggleborn. It's too much to put up with - and there are far better candidates, too."

"Got anyone in mind?" Evan said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Narcissa wanted to slap him for his impertinence, but before she could do anything the new Heads had begun to speak, and Narcissa realized that as a very junior prefect she'd do well to actually listen.

"Now that we're all settled," Ted Tonks said pleasantly, "To business. For our new prefects, your duties on the train are quite straightforward. As soon as this meeting is over, the fifth year prefects should patrol the compartments, keep an eye on everything. Fifth years, you're responsible for all the firsties. If any of them are scared, confused, lost, help 'em out. This especially goes for the Muggleborns, who probably have no idea what's going on or what'll greet them at Hogwarts. Don't give away the surprise about how they're Sorted, though, it's too much fun to see them all scared."

Dorcas Meadows elbowed him hard, and he grinned easily at her before continuing. "Sixth years, same as last year - keep an eye out that none of the magic gets too rowdy. Those who actually obeyed the rules this summer won't have done any magic for a while and will be eager to start again, but we don't want any fully-fledged duels or anything. Make sure none of the older kids are bullying the younger ones, either - I swear, fifth-year kids are always brutal, just because it's their O.W.L. year and they're feeling superior."

Dorcas Meadows then cut in, taking over what had obviously been a well-rehearsed speech. "Seventh year prefects, same sort of stuff as the sixth-years. Keep in touch with your housemates, make sure everyone's cozy. You don't have to be constantly patrolling, though, it's alright to go and sit with your friends as long as you don't see anything too untoward. Even prefects are allowed to have fun."

The older prefects all burst into friendly laughter, clearly recognizing an old joke among the prefects. Much though Narcissa disliked the choices for Head Boy and Girl, it was lovely to be part of an elite group with its own little in-jokes. Soon she'd be up to speed on all the prefect lingo. She found herself smiling at Dorcas and Ted's jokes despite herself, until she noticed that Lucius Malfoy wasn't smiling a bit, which dampened her spirits rather a lot.

Meadows continued, "Once we get to Hogwarts, make sure the second-years get on the carriages alright. Oh, and there might be one or two kids who can see what's drawing the carriages, too - I remember, little Harriet Edgecombe was in tears when she saw the thestrals her second year. Fifth-years, as this is your first official day as prefects, you get all the fun drudgework. You're all in charge of escorting the first-years up to their dormitory for the first time - I've got the list of passwords somewhere in my robes, and no, Andromeda, I'm not going to let you have the Slytherin password however much you beg - Head Boy and Girl only."

Andromeda made a face, but it was a friendly sort of grimace, and everyone laughed again, even the other Slytherin prefects - though Lucius Malfoy looked as put out as ever.

"Anyway, make sure all the firsties are tucked in goodnight, and then you can relax. I'll pass out prefect duty rosters with everybody's schedules tomorrow morning, but don't worry too much about it, fifth-years - it'll be only one or two nights a week, and usually it's just patrolling corridors, unless one of the teachers needs help with some assignment. That's a perk of being a prefect - more work, yes, but sometimes a professor will ask for a volunteer for something really interesting. Last year, the new Arithmancy Prof, Vector, asked me to help her catalogue her private library. For those of you not in Ravenclaw, this may sound dreadfully dull, but she's given me access to all her books as a reward, and she has some absolutely marvellous arithmancy texts."

"Okay, everyone," Ted Tonks said, clapping his hands together. "Remember to get up and patrol the corridors every so often, make yourself available for questions and everything; but otherwise, you're free to go and find your friends. Unless anyone has any questions?"

But no-one did. Laughing with an easy camaraderie, the prefects all spilled out of the forward compartment, walking in bands of two or three.

Narcissa waited for Andromeda by the door, but she was waiting for Ted Tonks - and one look from her brown eyes told Narcissa that the older prefect rather wanted to be alone with the new Head Boy. That was alright with Narcissa, though for a moment, when everyone had been laughing, Narcissa had thought she might be able to talk to Andromeda as though they were sisters again, rather than strangers sharing houseroom.

With a sigh, Narcissa headed out of the compartment herself. She honestly didn't know whom to sit with - she didn't have any friends in her year, and while Marlene McKinnon was friendly enough, the older Slytherin girl had plenty of friends in her year. Perhaps she could find Lucius?

With that pleasant thought, Narcissa started toward the back of the train, where the older Slytherins always congregated. The compartments were all busy and full of laughter, though it often stilled when she, a Slytherin prefect - and an unknown quantity, too, as a new prefect - entered. She found two first years a place to sit on the train (some fourth-year Ravenclaws had been absolutely beastly to them), helped a second-year Gryffindor girl with her trunk (how had she passed charms without learning to levitate yet?), and finally emerged into the last compartment on the train.

To her annoyance, it was practically empty - she must have passed Lucius somewhere, though she didn't know how.

The only one in the compartment, in fact - a compartment usually occupied by sixth and seventh-year Slytherins - was a scrawny little boy Narcissa didn't recognize, undoubtedly a first-year. With a sigh, Narcissa decided it would probably be best to wait. Lucius would undoubtedly find his way there eventually.

She sat down on the opposite side of the compartment, and tried to amuse herself by watching the countryside flash past her windows, but she'd made the journey often enough not to be very interested by the scenery.

Finally, tired of trying to pretend she hadn't noticed her sole companion in the compartment, Narcissa said, "I'm Narcissa Black, the new Slytherin prefect. Are you a first-year?"

The boy turned toward Narcissa, obviously nervous. "You're a prefect?" he exclaimed. "Wow! Um, I'm Dirk Cresswell. This is my first year, yeah."

"Looking forward to school?" Narcissa inquired, gratified at his awe.

"Oh, yes!" the boy said, turning around to face Narcissa. He was tiny, hardly up to Narcissa's chest, and Narcissa had never been particularly tall.

"I've got all my school books and everything," he continued. "And a wand! Nine inches, elm and phoenix feather. Mr. Ollivander said I'd be good at Defense, but I'm not sure what that means - he said something like Defense Against the Dark Arts. Anyway, I can't wait to get into Hogwarts. I read in this book my parents got me that we all get divided into Houses, and everything. What are the Houses like? I've been reading up on them, but I can't really understand, there's a lot of stuff about the people who started the Houses, but it was really boring so I didn't read very far. Which one are you in again?"

"I'm in Slytherin," Narcissa said. It was quite nice, really, to explain about Hogwarts houses to a first-year - it made her feel very grown-up and responsible. "So of course I'm biased, but really, it's by far the best. Ravenclaw is for the bookish type, they're usually very good with schoolwork, or else they've got some special talent. Gryffindor is alright, I suppose, though I don't get on very well with Gryffindors, most Slytherins don't. Gryffindor is supposed to be for the brave and chivalrous, although really, most Gryffindors aren't very chivalrous - just reckless, if you ask me. Hufflepuff's not any good at all, though - it's supposed to be for the hard-working and fair, but most Hufflepuffs are just there because there's nowhere else for them - they aren't clever or brave or ambitious, so they're 'hard-working', which really means they haven't any other particular talent. Slytherin, my house, is for the ambitious and clever and cunning. Slytherins usually go on to politics or else business, usually someplace powerful. If you want to succeed, Slytherin's the best place."

"Wow!" the boy said again, his eyes as wide as plates. "I dunno where I'll be in, then. I suppose could be clever, but I never did well at school before, I can't concentrate on anything, or at least I never could with maths - my mum says it's like I have ants in my pants. I'm not very hard-working either. Do they give a lot of homework here? I don't know if I'm brave or not - how can you tell, do you know? I couldn't sleep a bit after reading Dracula, though, but that's supposed to be scary, do you think it counts? Slytherin does sound the best, I hope I'm in it."

Narcissa smiled at him, and repressed the urge to ruffle his hair. He truly was adorable. "Well, you never know. What do your parents do? I've never heard of the Cresswells before."

"Well, my Dad's a doctor," the boy said brightly, "and my Mum works in his office. She was his secretary before they got married."

"Your father's a doctor?" Narcissa exclaimed, horrified. "One of those Muggle butchers?"

"He's not a butcher!" the boy said, upset. "He helps cure sick people!"

"Merlin, your parents aren't Muggles, are they?" Narcissa asked. It had just struck her that perhaps the boy hadn't known anything about the Hogwarts houses because his parents had never gone themselves.

"Yeah, they are," Dirk said, still upset. "I never knew about wizards before this summer. Do you mean you don't even know what a doctor does? It's simple, doctors help people get better when they're sick or hurt. My Dad's a GP, he does all sorts of stuff, but some doctors only do surgery or anaesthetics or something."

Narcissa wasn't paying attention to his lecture about Muggle healing, however. That she'd been happily chatting to a Mudblood without even knowing it disturbed her. It was one thing with Half-bloods, who at least knew a little about magic, but a Mudblood... and she'd wanted to touch his hair!

"There isn't anything wrong with having Muggle parents, is there?" Dirk asked, suddenly unsure. He looked like he was going to cry; his big blue eyes had started to well up with tears.

Narcissa was half-tempted to leave the compartment and the Mudblood first-year, but remembered that, as a prefect, she was supposed to explain things to the first year. Undoubtedly Tonks, himself a Muggleborn, wouldn't have liked quite how she explained things, but Narcissa felt that she was really being quite charitable to speak to a Mudblood at all.

"There's no easy way to say this," Narcissa began. "Dirk - please don't get upset - but wizards and witches who are - are Muggleborn, well, they're accidents. They're unnatural. The problem with Muggleborns is that they just don't know anything about the wizarding world until they get their letter. You needed me to explain about the Houses - a child born into a wizarding family would have known all about the four Houses before they ever set foot on the train."

"But I'll learn!" Dirk said, his eyes welling with tears.

"I'm afraid it's just not that easy," Narcissa said, with the patient air of one explaining something to a frustrated toddler. "You see, Muggleborn students will never have the inborn, innate grasp of magic which Pureblood students - those students who were born to witches and wizards - have and will always have. It's - magical, I suppose. Muggleborns are more like Muggles than real witches or wizards, because it's just not in their blood. There are some things you just can't learn - you have to be born with the feeling in you."

Dirk was really crying now, not noisily, but there were big, fat tears running down his face. "It's not my fault I'm Muggleborn!" he wailed.

Narcissa hadn't the faintest idea what to do. It was all very well to know that Muggleborns weren't the same, could never be the same, but another thing entirely to tell some poor child - no, some Mudblood child - that he was a freak of nature who ought never to have been born.

"No, I suppose it isn't," Narcissa said slowly, "but you see, a lot of Pureblood witches and wizards like myself are faced with this really difficult problem about what to do about Muggleborns. If all Muggleborn wizards were just to realize that they could never be the same as Purebloods - were just to stay out of wizarding society altogether, and live like Muggles - it wouldn't be a problem. But a long time ago, far before I was born, wizards began inviting Muggleborns to live like Purebloods - to go to Hogwarts, and to get jobs in the Wizarding world - and it's caused nothing but trouble.

"Some Muggleborns wanted to tell wizards all about our world, and you see, if Muggles were ever to find out who and what wizards really are, they'd destroy us! Muggles just don't understand, can't ever understand. They used to burn us, to kill us! They still would, too - Wizards never made guns or bombs or any such horrible thing. Wizards didn't make the Muggle wars happen in the 1940s, but we still got killed. Wizards can't ever trust Muggles, but Muggleborns don't understand, and they're dangerous."

Narcissa spoke with great vehemency, echoing everything she'd ever heard at home or at her Aunt and Uncle's home. Whenever she thought about Muggles, Narcissa couldn't suppress a gut reaction of nausea and loathing, and a little fear. Some of her ancestors and ancestresses had been killed by Muggles during the dark days of the middle ages and what the Muggles called the Renaissance. Narcissa knew never to go into the Muggle world without her wand - it was just too dangerous. You never knew what a Muggle might do to you.

The boy, Dirk, was still sobbing. "But I won't do any of those things! I promise, I'll never tell any of my old friends about Hogwarts, or magic, or any of it. Why can't I be a wizard just like all the others?"

"But your parents know, don't they, and they're Muggles," Narcissa said, reasonably.

"But my Dad wouldn't tell anyone, nor my Mum. Nobody'd believe them if they did."

"But they're still Muggles who would know, wouldn't they? I'll bet once you've finished Hogwarts, they'll always be after you to do magic for them. Muggles think that if you're magical, you can fix all of their problems with the wave of a wand."

"But it must be so easy if you're a wizard!" Dirk said vehemently. "I bet - I bet if my Dad could do magic, he could make anyone better, easy. He could just say a spell and their bones would be better or they wouldn't have arthritis anymore."

"And that's why you're not as good as a Pureblood!" Narcissa said passionately. "You think that magic's easy, but it's not. It's hard, it takes work - it's not just a wave of your wand, it's years and years of hard work, and magic isn't a solution to everything just if you want it to be. You don't understand. How could you?"

Dirk began to cry again, curling up in his seat and burying his face in the black robes Narcissa realized he'd probably never worn before. For some reason, she felt like crying, too. It just wasn't fair, she thought, that she had to be the one to do all the explaining.

Then, unexpectedly, she was rescued. Narcissa had forgotten completely the reason she'd been waiting in the back compartment with only a Mudblood boy for company; when Lucius Malfoy, with a very ugly look on his handsome face stalked into the compartment, trailed by Rabastan Lestrange, Narcissa jumped to her feet with a happy laugh.

"There you are!" she said delightedly. "I've been waiting, I couldn't find you when we were all supposed to be patrolling the train."

"Marlene McKinnon decided to give me a lecture on how I had to obey Ted Tonks now that he was Head Boy, even though he's a filthy Mudblood. God, sometimes I can hardly believe that woman's a Slytherin at all. You'd think she were a Muggleborn herself."

"Ugh," Narcissa said, wrinkling her nose as if she could smell something disgusting. "She's usually alright, but she gets like that from time to time. Her parents are really liberal, too, or so my father says."

"I don't know why we're worrying about Muggleborns," Lucius said with a sigh, sitting down next to Narcissa. "I haven't seen you in ages - your letters were marvellous, but it's much nicer being back with you again." He kissed her on the cheek, and Narcissa positively glowed with happiness."

Rabastan, who'd made a face at the kiss, suddenly said, "Hey, who's the kid? What's he doing in our compartment?"

Narcissa had an uncomfortable feeling in her gut as she said, slowly, "He's a first year, he says his name is Dirk Cresswell."

"Yeah? Well, kid, this compartment's for Slytherins, only, and until you're sorted to our table, you can get out."

"Don't say, 'yeah', Rabastan, it's common," Narcissa said peevishly.

"Oh, shut it, Narcissa, you're almost as bad as Bellatrix," the Lestrange boy said bad-temperedly.

Dirk, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet and was struggling to get his trunk down. To Narcissa, he said, "I'm - I'm sorry if I was in your compartment, I didn't know. I guess that's something I'd know if I weren't a Muggleborn, too."

"Wait, the kid's a Mudblood?" Rabastan said, as if it were the best thing he'd heard all day.

"Yes, and leave him alone," Narcissa said, a touch more annoyed. "I've already had to explain to him about it, that's why he was crying."

Looking positively terrified, the boy said to Lucius - perhaps thinking him less dangerous than Rabastan - "Can - can you help me with my trunk? I can't g-get at it, I'm t-too short." His nose was running, and he wiped it on the sleeve of his robe.

With a sneer of obvious disgust, Lucius drew out his wand and levitated the trunk out of the rack, until it was directly above the boy. With a smirk, he ended the spell, and let it drop directly on the boy, knocking him over. Rabastan laughed, noisily.

Narcissa wanted to disappear. The boy picked himself up, slowly, and managed to pick up his obviously heavy trunk.

"G-goodbye, Narcissa," he managed, before opening the door to the compartment.

"That's Miss Black to you!" Lucius said with a snarl, moving to his feet. Narcissa grabbed at his arm, and he sat down, slowly.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Miss Black. I'll g-go, now." Crying as if he thought his heart would break, Dirk Cresswell left.

"Filthy little snivelling Mudblood," Rabastan said, and he spat, noisily, on the floor.

Lucius was looking at Narcissa, who couldn't help but begin to cry herself.

"Are you alright, Cissy?" he said quietly, wiping a tear of her face with his thumb.

Narcissa nodded, jerking her head firmly. "I - I'm being silly. It's just, when I came in here, I didn't know he was a Muggleborn! He asked me questions about Hogwarts, and I was just being helpful like I'm supposed to be now that I'm a prefect, and then I realized he was Muggleborn. I thought he was normal, too, just like any other first year. I had a conversation with him!"

"They ought to make Mudbloods wear badges or something, so you know what they are!" Rabastan exclaimed vehemently.

"Oh, I know," Narcissa said, her tears subsiding. "It was so horrible. I'd almost touched him, and he was a Mudblood and everything. He seemed so sweet at first, but then I had to explain to him about why Muggleborns are different, and he started crying. It was so awful, it made me feel so bad, and I didn't even do anything wrong!"

Lucius put his arm around her and squeezed her gently, and Narcissa relaxed against his chest. "There, all better now," he said softly, and kissed her gently on the cheek again. "We'll be alright now? He's gone, thank Merlin, so we won't have to deal with him again. God, I'm so tired about worrying about Mudbloods - first Tonks, and now this. Let's think about something more cheerful, alright?"

"Alright," Narcissa said, taking a deep, shuddering breath and smiling awkwardly. "Goodness. Let's pretend you've just walked in the door, and are now going to say to me, 'Hello, Miss Black. I've missed you so terribly over the summer!'"

"Hello, Miss Black," Lucius said. "I've missed you so terribly over the summer."

The rest of the train ride passed happily enough, Narcissa and Lucius chatting happily with each other and making up for lost time. Rabastan was clearly irritated that his best friend was ignoring him for some chit of a girl, but Narcissa ignored him - and, to her delight, so did Lucius.

Once at Hogwarts, Narcissa remembered she was supposed to be helping the second years find the carriages to take them to Hogwarts. After aiding a tiny Hufflepuff girl get inside and out of the now stormy weather, she found Lucius and Rabastan again, along with Marlene McKinnon, who didn't look at Lucius once, and the two sixth-year Slytherin prefects.

The Sorting and Feast were as ever. Dumbledore was his usual, unusual self. Narcissa had never been able to make herself dislike him as much as she knew she ought, as a member of Slytherin House; she loved Hogwarts, and Dumbledore was as much a part of Hogwarts as the moving staircases or Peeves the Poltergeist.

Almost the first child to be sorted, Narcissa noticed with a sickening jolt to her stomach, was Dirk Cresswell, the boy from the train. He looked less miserable, but his face was still grimy from tears. The hat sat on his head a long minute before crying out a happy, "RAVENCLAW!" He scurried over to their table, where Dorcas Meadowes motioned him to a seat by her.

The rest of the evening went marvelously, as far as Narcissa was concerned. Nine new Slytherins were sorted, including an absolutely precious girl with long black plaits who told Narcissa, in perfect seriousness, that she wanted to be a dragon-tamer. Narcissa relaxed into her new role of being a prefect, and realized that she adored people looking up to her. She was the only Black sister in Slytherin, now, a powerful and impressive member of the fine old House's pantheon of Purebloods, and the younger ones instinctively looked to her for guidance, for an example. She would not let them down.

When the feast was over, Narcissa collected the first years with Evan Rosier. Evan insisted on taking the lead, like the male he was, but Narcissa was just as happy to shepherd from behind. She was feeling unusually maternal, and couldn't help but straighten the cloak fixed rather haphazardly over one boy's shoulder, or smooth down the hair of an exhausted little girl.

The Ravenclaw prefects were doing much the same; Narcissa waved to Hestia Jones as she passed, and received a wink back from the friendly girl. As Narcissa passed, she received a distinctly less friendly greeting from one of the new Ravenclaw boys, however.

"I hate you!" Dirk shouted, attracting attention from some of the older students passing by. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! The Head Girl, she told me what the truth is about Muggleborns! You're a liar, a filthy liar, and I hope you go and drop dead! I never want to see you again!" He rushed off to rejoin the Ravenclaws, Hestia Jones taking him into her arms and glaring suspiciously back at Narcissa.

Everyone in the Great Hall stared at Narcissa for a long moment. Even Evan, normally so obnoxiously cool, looked disconcerted; and Narcissa's first years looked horrified.

As Dirk Cresswell disappeared up a staircase, Narcissa broke down and cried.