Forsaken Beauty

Narcissa closed her eyes, trying to drown out the pain.

She seemed to resemble a porcelain doll. Her long white-blonde hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head, not a strand out of place. She was small, thin, and fragile looking. Perfect for a ballerina she was. It almost seemed as if she were flying across the stage, a series of precise and beautiful grand Jeté's. Narcissa Black was truly a gifted girl. Everyone watched her, edge of his or her seats, amazed at her talent. A pirouette later, then balancing perfectly in an arabesque, the crowd erupted into a loud cheer. Nine year old Narcissa bowed gracefully, unsmiling, at the audience.

She liked to concentrate on those good memories in the aftermath of the destruction Lucius caused her. Sitting in front of her vanity mirror, squeezing her eyes closed, she hoped that the bruises would be gone when she opened her eyes again. Narcissa took a deep breath and opened her eyes slowly. Damn him, she thought. Her left eye was a deep shade of blackish blue. She sighed, picking up her wand. A minute later her eye was still tender but the bruise was invisible. She took another deep breath, swept her long blonde hair over her shoulder, pinning it back with a silver and green barrette. She stood, smoothing her green velvet dress. It was time to for her son to go to school.

* * * * * * * *

At Hogwarts, Narcissa Black was clearly the smartest Slytherin girl. She was probably the smartest girl in her year, aside from Lily Evans. Narcissa hated Lily with all her soul. She hated how Lily had such a perfect life. Perfect looks, perfect friends, perfect family, perfect boyfriend, and perfect grades. Narcissa had all those things and more, seeing as how she was a pureblood witch. Narcissa was strikingly beautiful: long pale blonde hair, blue-gray eyes that seemed to see into your soul. She was a little tall and very thin. Most girls at Hogwarts envied her more than they did Lily Evans. What Lily did have was happiness. That was something Narcissa did not have, it was something she would never have, give or take a few rare moments she would come to experience. Narcissa had long been promised to Lucius Malfoy. It was an almost perfect union, a Black and a Malfoy. Two of the most prestigious wizarding families in history. Narcissa and Lucius did have genuine feelings for each other however. He treated her with dignity and respect, just the same as she treated him. This was before, however, that Lucius Malfoy began to pal around with the Dark Lord.

* * * * * * * *

It had been the most agonizing fifteen hours of her life, the day Draco was born. The nine months of her pregnancy had been peaceful and calm, never getting sick or feeling terrible. The labor was horrific, that was how Lucius told it. Narcissa screamed and cried, she felt ripped apart. But after all was said and done, she and Lucius had a perfect little boy. "Draco!" Lucius had proclaimed loudly. "This is Draco Malfoy." Although she would never speak it to anyone, Draco's name scared her. It took her many months to even say it out loud. She loved her son very much, but she feared he would turn out just like his father.

Bringing Draco home was an event in and of itself. The Malfoy Manor was transformed into a glittery welcome home party, special for Draco. They entered the formal dining room, Lucius beaming with his arm around his wife, Narcissa glowing, holding their perfect baby. Family, friends, people whom Narcissa didn't know watched, standing, clapping for the Malfoy's and their new baby. Narcissa was used to lavish gatherings, it was a common occurrence when your family was so highly revered. Draco was placed in a bassinet, presents for him stacked high on a table behind him. Everyone got their chance to greet and congratulate the couple before dinner was served. There were many smiles, kisses, hugs, and handshakes. These were all necessary pleasantries, nothing out of the ordinary. Narcissa took notice however, as a man she did not recognized leaned close to Lucius, speaking in his ear, making a small gesture towards baby Draco. Lucius remained solemn, shaking the man's hand firmly, nodding in agreement. This scene was one that would always be emblazoned in her memory.

That night, after all their guests had gone home, Narcissa asked her husband what the man and he had been discussing. It wasn't a question that would seem to make one mad, but Lucius' eyes flashed with fury. He struck Narcissa backhandedly across the face. He swore at her, his voice dangerously low. He told her to mind her own business, that a man's dealings were none of her concern. He told her she needed to be careful, that she was being a disrespectful wife. He hit her again and again, until he thought she had gotten his point. This was only the beginning.