Author's Notes: Written for the October edition of Ashleigh's Monthly Competitions on the HPFC Forum – writing about the relationship between a parent and child.

)O(

"Why does Father hate me?"

Narcissa asked the question rather quietly one afternoon while she and her mother were alone in the parlour. Narcissa was sitting in one of the large, uncomfortable armchairs, kicking her heels against the edge, and Druella was rearranging the crystal in the cabinet. When Narcissa asked her question, two chalices slipped from her hands and smashed onto the floor.

"Cissy!" she said, whirling around, heedless of the mess. Her face had gone quite suddenly pale. "Why do you think that?"

Narcissa shied back, surprised at her mother's reaction, and looked down at the crystal on the floor. Her voice trembled. "Is it my fault you broke the glass?"

"Oh- no, of course not…" Druella stepped over the remains of the glasses, then knelt down beside Narcissa and placed her hands on either side of her head, turning it up to face her. Her grip was too firm, and her fingers dug into the skin, but her voice was controlled. "Cissy, my darling, why do you think Father hates you?"

"He just does." Narcissa swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry. "He loves Bellatrix and Andromeda, and he hates me."

"That isn't true," Druella said firmly, but she cast her eyes down, and Narcissa could clearly see a look of guilt on her face. "Narcissa, darling, your father adores you – just as much as he loves your sisters."

Narcissa didn't say anything to that, and Druella sighed and pulled her into an embrace, tight enough to almost hurt.

"You're such a pretty little girl," Druella murmured, running her hand through Narcissa's hair. "Such a sweet, lovely little girl, my perfect little girl – how could anyone ever hate you?"

"Father does." Narcissa's voice broke. "He does, Mother. Don't you believe me?"

"It–" Druella's voice broke, and when she drew back, Narcissa could see tears clinging to her eyelashes. "Oh, Cissy, my darling, it isn't that I don't believe you – it's only that…" She trailed off, then shook her head. "Don't say such things again, Narcissa. I don't want you to ever say you think your father hates you again."

Narcissa nodded sombrely, though she couldn't understand why she was being ordered not to tell the truth when she had been reprimanded for lying before. But she couldn't bring herself to question it, not when her mother looked so suddenly fragile and frightened.

That night, Narcissa heard her parents arguing in their room, and she pressed her ear tightly against the wall and listened.

"Cygnus," Druella was pleading. "Cygnus, the poor thing is a mess."

"And whose fault is that, my dear?" Cygnus snapped back. "How can you be surprised that she's a mess, given- given who she is."

"Who she is!" Druella sounded upset, with a hint of hysteria in her voice. "She's our daughter, that's who she is!"

"Your daughter." His voice was cold and bitter. "She's your daughter, Druella. You may inflict her on me, but don't ever expect me to treat her like my own. If you wanted that, you should have thought of it before you conceived her."

)O(

Fin