Mother always told me to set my sights high. "You're a Black," she'd say, "and you should never have to compromise."
She changed her tune somewhat in the summer Andy… left us. She began to worry that we'd all be tarred with the same brush; nevermind that Bella had been married a year already, and so I became her project, as it were.
New gowns were ordered, my school robes were suddenly much higher quality (and I had no problems with the plain wool they'd been, but Mama insisted on cashmere and Papa was indulgent), and I was trotted about at parties, dangled like a shiny bauble in front of every eligible male, lecherous old men and immature boys alike.
It was humiliating. I had never been so happy to see the platform disappear as when I returned to school for my sixth year.
Stepping carefully around people in the swaying train corridor, I made my way to an empty compartment at the far end of the train. I had not been made prefect last year, nor this – I kept too much to myself. Bella had always been the striking one, and Andy the sensible one. I had thought I'd managed to stay out of the gossip circles, but with a name like Black, it was a rather foolish hope. The pointed looks and sudden hushes as I passed gave rise to that. "That's the other Black sister," I heard whispers, "the youngest one. Did you hear about her sister?" They never used my name. I doubted any of them knew it – they'd never had cause to use it. I was too pale – I lacked the signature Black colouring of dark, flashing eyes and deep blue-black hair, instead taking after my mothers' Rosier blood; too quiet – Bella had our family's share of vivacious wit and bright laughter; too uninteresting – Andy was always the one to promote debates and push the boundaries. Nobody ever noticed me – until now.
I could wish that it had been something other than a scandal that caused people to notice me, but when Lucius Malfoy – tall, handsome, and Head Boy – stepped into my compartment and closed the door, I found myself not caring.
"Narcissa," he greeted me, inclining his head. He knew my name. My first name.
A rare smile crossed my face. "Lucius. Head Boy? Congratulations."
Mother always told me to set my sights high.