Sacrifies for the pure blood
1. "Please don't"
Narcissa had never enjoyed being a pure-blood. She had been forced to sacrifice everything for her family and her pure blood and the continuation of a pure bloodline. Even before the really understood the meaning of being a wife and mother to pure-blood wizards and witches, she had been destroyed. The first to hurt her deeper than she thought possibly was the monster she called father.
He was a drunkard, fearing the responsibility of being a pure-blood. Her mother tried to defend her three daughters but didn't succeed. Bellatrix and Andromeda had always been careful around their father, never drawing attention to themselves. Bellatrix was as mean as her father and tried to conquer her fear by being as mean and cruel as possible to others. Andromeda searched for love and understanding in boys. But Narcissa was the youngest and was used to be fussed over and adored. And then hell started because her father beat her mother half to death and came to her afterwards. From then on he was a regular intruder to her room.
Moonlight came in from the drawn curtain of the window, placing a beam of silver on the small white-blonde head buried partway under the white blankets. The little girl on the bed whispered prayers into the night. Not tonight, not tonight, please God, not tonight. But creaking footsteps were heard and grew steadily closer. The whispered begging grew more fervent. To no avail. When the door opened, the begging died altogether. Again her prayers had not been heard and answered.
She couldn't say why she still prayed when every night the horrible thing happened and that monster came. Perhaps it was because praying gave her hope that one day she would be free of him forever. The heavy footsteps of her father crept closer to her bed and a hoarse voice, made foul by whisky, said:
"I'm here, my little princess. Are you ready?"
And again she tried her luck and answered as firmly as she possibly could:
"Please not tonight, daddy."
"Oh, but my princess, sweet Narcissa, you know that you must. I told you before that it is your duty as a good daughter to grant me my wishes. You have to honour your father," he replied coldly and without any sympathy or remorse in his voice.
"Now get up and undress."
His voice was harsh and commanding and the tiny girl got out of bed, fearing her father's drunken rage if she didn't. She removed the nightgown, baring herself fully to her father, her thin body pale and whittled, too small for a child of ten. This was what her father did to her, this abuse, this "father's love".
Her father traced his gaze up and down her frail body, taking in everything hungrily from her budding breasts to the areas below.
"Oh princess," he growled, and it began.
Narcissa's eyes closed and she tried to ignore the touches, the pressure, the hot, drink-laden breath on her neck. She tried to forget the feeling of being dirty. Just a while longer, just a bit more, it will all be over soon, she told herself repeatedly, but the seconds feel like minutes and the minutes feel like hours.
Narcissa closes her eyes and dreamed of the day she would finally be at Hogwarts and out of his reach.
A./N.: Let me know if you want to read more.