Silverware clinked against plates. Rather than dispelling the silence, though, these supper-time noises merely intensified it. Cautiously, Narcissa Malfoy raised her cold eyes to glance around the room, trying to find something to break the dangerous silence. Finding nothing, she lowered her eyes to the tabletop once more.

Usually Lucius would fill the silence, rambling about the ministry or some other irrelevant topic. If he made any effort to include her, it was only to ask her opinion of something, then continue with his monologue before she spoke. Sometimes Draco spoke, but she never did.

Narcissa was ghost-like, to be seen and not heard, a pretty trophy. After the past twenty years, a wraith-like witch had replaced the vibrant and cunning Narcissa of her Hogwarts days. Lucius's presence had done this. That idea had slowly taken hold on her for the past three years. But to speak like that would be to shatter her carefully built cocoon of silence-something she could not do without also reintroducing pain. But silently, she hated him for what he had made her.

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Two girls sat in the shade of a sprawling oak by the shore of the Black Lake. Having evicted all other students from the prime spot, they lazed about in the shade. Admittedly, they made an odd pair – a First Year and a Seventh Year almost never mixed. Indeed, many passerbies gave them odd looks, but the duo didn't seem to notice. The elder girl, the Seventh Year, gave a sigh as she stared across the lawn at a group consisting of Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Years.

"What's wrong, Araminta?" the First Year asked. "Got the hots for Nott?"

"Eww! How gross can you get?" she cried. "No, I was thinking that Lucius looks quite handsome."

"But he's two years younger than you are – a Fifth Year."

"I wasn't entertaining that possibility, no. I was thinking for you," she replied.

"Me? He's four years older than I am. You have a better chance with him!" the First Year exclaimed.

"That won't matter once you graduate. His parents will look your way. Four years isn't such a big difference."

"An arranged marriage?" The young girl made a face. "What happened to love?"

"Stop being ridiculous," the older girl snapped. "You have a duty, to your blood."

"My blood?"

"Yes, your blood. To keep your bloodline pure, all-wizarding," Araminta explained as patiently as she could.

"You mean I have to marry a pureblood?"

"Do you want to end up like Andromeda?"

"We're not supposed to talk about her!" Andromeda Black had married a filthy Muggle, Ted Tonks, and been disowned. Her name, despite Andromeda having been the First Year's sister, was not even to be spoken in either of the girl's houses, or their family.

"And that, cousin…" she began, but was interrupted by the First Year.

"Really, you're my mother's cousin."

"Who cares? The point being, my dearest cousin Narcissa, that purity of bloodline is what gives our family name honor and prestige. You would do well to pursue Lucius, or any others who walk in his circle," Araminta said, gesturing to the knot of boys and gathering her bag. When her back was turned, she didn't see Narcissa Black make a face of disgust towards the group, or glare daggers at her back.

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But for all the faces Narcissa could make, Araminta had spoken truly. Two years passed, and Narcissa was now a Third Year, making Lucius in his Seventh.

Narcissa struggled across the Slytherin common room with a stack of books too tall for her.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here, my lovely Narcissa?" Lucius stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way to the dungeon corridor outside.

"Move. And don't call me your 'lovely Narcissa' anymore," she said, shifting to try and walk around him. He stepped over, continuing to block her.

"Common courtesy. First, say please. Second, I'm a prefect, so I'll call you what I like." He idly picked the topmost book off of the stack in Narcissa's arms so that he could see her face.

"Please, move, then," she begged. "I'm only a Third Year, and people are starting to stare."

"As you wish, my lovely Narcissa." He stepped aside and gave a gallant bow.

"He makes me sound like a flower," she thought in the corridor outside.