Spiralling

Always Padfoot

In the winter of 1975, when the grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a thick layer of unmarked snow, I was met head on with one of the most difficult obstacles of my life.

It was my final year of Hogwarts; I was Head Girl like Andromeda had been when I'd been a fifth year prefect. The students were starting to become aware of the oncoming war whilst I'd known for a long time now. My oldest sister was obsessed with this new Dark Lord after being introduced by her husband. As well as that, my betrothed and his family were heavily in support of him too.

I wasn't really impressed by the war, but as a future wife and a Black, I was duty bound to show my support. I was not interested by war. I guessed what happened early that December launched war to the back of my mind anyway.

On the final day of term, Professor Slughorn came to one of my ancient runes classes and took me back to his office. My mother was stood by the fireplace, her stiff upper lip in place as she explained that my father wished to see me at home.

He'd been sick for many years; his magical core wasting away bit by bit until one day it would diminish completely and my father would die with it. The most I knew was that the Healers suggested that he wouldn't make it much longer than six months. That had been back in August.

We travelled home where my father was being treated by private Healers. I knew his summoning must be serious because both of my sisters were there. Bellatrix, who I saw every now and again in the holidays, and Andromeda, who I hadn't seen since she'd run off and moved in with her Muggleborn boyfriend. My aunt had even blasted her from the Black tapestry when she left.

When she saw me, she jumped to her feet and hugged me tightly around the waist. "Cissy, how are you?"

I could see Bella sneering in the background; she had been the most vocal about Andy leaving the family.

"I'm fine, Andromeda," I responded coldly.

She faltered slightly before nodding and stepping back from me. It would never be like it used to be.

The next day our mother was inside our parents bedroom with father and a representative from Gringotts. We were outside, whatever was about to happen, I was sure that it was going to be serious. For fifteen minutes we sat outside, none of us exchanged a word, not even Bellatrix, who was usually so vocal in her disgust for Andromeda.

At half past three, my mother opened the door of their room, where my father was bedridden. Her face had changed; her stiff indifference was gone and the red was rising in her cheeks. Her eyes were red and she looked uncomfortable. The only thing she offered as we went inside was a pained smile.

"Girls." our father called as we approached the bed where he lay.

He was weaker than I'd ever seen. His cheeks were hollow and his skin clammy and pale. Between his thin fingers the skin sagged and he was fragile and thin like an elderly person. He looked like he was on his way out to me.

There was a man at the the desk in the corner, his fingers poised over a typewriter. He seemed to wait until our father spoke again before his fingers rushed across the keys.

"Girls, this is a very serious matter and it has to be resolved before I pass."

None of us spoke, our breath holding like we were waiting for the punchline of a joke.

"The Healers say I don't have long left now," he explained. "So it comes to this moment where I have to divide my estate between you."

Bellatrix's eyes lit up to the left to me. Andromeda seemed more shocked, but I was concerned. After our father died, Gringotts would simply divide his fortunes up equally, or however he had designated it in his will. This was a modification to the will, hence the official in the corner.

My thoughts immediately turned to the younger of my older sisters. Would my father be brutal enough to cut her share away in front of Bellatrix and I? After all, she did run of with that Muggleborn.

"Your mother and I gravely disagree on the course of action I have chosen," our father said. "But the disgrace that I feel greatly outweighs any sympathy I have."

Subconsciously, my hand touched Andromeda's; there were tears in her eyes like she was waiting for him to confirm the worst. It seemed unfair; Andy fell in love with someone she shouldn't have. She should have been stronger. Maybe then she wouldn't be in this horrible situation. I bit my bottom lip in anticipation of my father's next words.

"Therefore I have decided that you - Narcissa - will be struck from my will and from this family."

I froze, confused. "What?"

"I knew from the beginning. I could see exactly what you were," he spat. "A bastard child."

My bottom lip trembled. Admittedly, for once I was struggling to process the what I was being told. That was something that almost never happened to me.

"No." I said finally. "I can't be; I'm not."

"You are," my father insisted. "You will no longer have a share; you will no longer stay in this room, or even in this house; you will no longer use the name Black."

"Father..." Andromeda began, but he held up a weak hand.

"No," he said firmly. "Get out. Get out of my house."

Somehow my feet kickstarted into action, I started to back away from the bed. My father's unforgiving eyes never left mine, until I turn away. Even then I could still feel them on me.

I practically stumbled through the door. My mother was nowhere in sight and my initial instinct was to find her. Was this why she had been so uncomfortable when she had left the room and we had entered?

As a child I always wanted dark hair like my sisters, but it was bright blonde. Bellatrix had teased me; she said it was because I wasn't there real sister. Andromeda always told me it wasn't true and that we were all sisters. I even remember one day, when I was six, I asked mummy why my hair wasn't pretty like Andy's and Bella's. She told me I was foolish, that my hair was equally beautiful, and that I shouldn't doubt her. She didn't lie to me, surely she didn't. Maybe if I found her, she would explain what was happening and why my father thought me a bastard.

The walls of the corridor appeared to inch further away from me in disgusted I walked numbly through it. When I reached the stairs, my voice cracked as I yelled for my mother.

I got no response.

I searched the whole house for her until, finally, I collapsed on my bed.

I had to leave. My father had forbade me to stay, but where would I go? If I went back to school everyone would know what had happened soon enough. All my friends and their families would respect my father's decision to oust me and would not provide refuge. Unless...

...unless I went to Daniel.

26TH NOVEMBER 1970

"No," I said. "You're supposed to be a Ravenclaw; you're supposed to be good at classes and homework."

"I just need a little bit of help with one question," he replied. "It is second year."

I sighed and gestured for him to pass me his textbook. If I could find the page he needed, at least then he'd be able to find the answer for himself. I paged through his Transfiguration book, searching for the appropriate page for Professor McGonagall's homework.

Daniel Morgan was perhaps the most relaxed Ravenclaw to have ever graced their house, maybe even Hogwarts. Having known him for over a year, I knew he was a highly intelligent person, but he only injected effort in when he was truly inspired by something. He particularly enjoyed potions and last year he loved Defence; this year - not so much. I guessed that would come and go with the teacher; I couldn't exactly say that this year's teacher filled me with excitement either. He was boring and incapable.

I slid the book back across to him. "You'll find the answer on there."

"I suppose that will do." he sighed, pulling it towards him to read.

I was about to start my History of Magic homework, when someone wrenched the chair out opposite us and sat down.

I looked up to see my oldest sister there and frowned. "What's wrong, Bella?"

She ignored me and turned straight to Daniel instead. "Did you tell my sister that you were a half-blood?"

Bellatrix had a smug smile on her face, similar to the one she wore when she knew something that others did not. I sensed that knowing smile had grown more vicious in her mind over her years in Hogwarts.

"I am a half-blood," Daniel replied, if not a little shaky.

I eyed him, half-concerned, half-confused, before I turned back to my sister. "What's going on, Bellatrix?"

"Your friend is lying to you; he's a mudblood."

I scoffed. "No he's not. Daniel's a half-blood, aren't you Danny?"

"Yeah, of course," he said quietly.

I would have known if Danny was a Muggleborn. He would have given it away somehow, besides, Muggleborns didn't know to hide their blood status. Why would he do it?

Bella laughed to herself, her eyes hooded as she looked over at Danny. He'd lost all of his colour, sweat beading on his forehead under her glare.

"Rudolphus is working in the department of magical incidents and lo behold he came across a file labelled: Daniel Benjamin Morgan. That's your full name right?" she asked, although she left him no chance to respond. "Well, four years before Danny started Hogwarts, he did accidental magic so bad it crippled his Muggle brother. His Muggle parents threw him out and he's been at that Ministry Orphanage, Caylrix, ever since."

My eyes were glued to Daniel as his eyes widened in fear and his hands started shaking so badly he had to thrust them under the table.

"Danny. Are you a Muggleborn or not?" I demanded.

His eyes moved slowly to mine and with one sharp nod he confirmed my worst fear.

PRESENT DAY

I'd watched Daniel put his name down to return home this Christmas. God knows why he would want to return to an Orphanage rather than stay at Hogwarts.

We had, obviously, drifted apart quite severely after Bellatrix's reveal. Most of me had been furious he'd lied to me and I knew I should have been far more irritated because he was a Muggleborn. The last thing I should be doing was standing outside Caylrix in the dark and blisteringly cold wind, but I was here now; my mind was made up.

I hurried up the gravel path and knocked heavily four times. I waited for a few moments before a blonde haired witch with frown lines on her forehead answered.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Is Daniel Morgan here?" I said.

"Year, he just back half an hour ago," she replied, checking her watch. "You can stay for twenty minutes, then you'll have to leave."

I was surprised she was even going to let me in, but even as I thought it she stepped aside to let me pass. I moved past her unsure, even now, that I would be received with open arms. Well, I wouldn't be, but I'd known that from the beginning.

"Morgan!" the woman yelled up the stairs. "There's someone here to see you."

I startled. No one had ever yelled to announce my arrival. She muttered something about him being right down and the disappeared through a door beside the stairs. I listened to footsteps thunder on the stairwell and subconsciously pulled my arms around my body.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. "Narcissa?"

I'd planned a thousand things to say without having to apologise and try and keep the conversation from escalating into an argument. Somehow all my logical thoughts spiralled inside my brain and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Danny," I began; my voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help."