A/N: All the sections in italics are flashbacks. The normal writing is in the present.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It is all work from J.K Rowling.

Disenchantment.

It is a strange feeling; a sharp shock, followed by a deep ache that grows into cold numbness. The numbness can consume and devour, slowly infecting and destroying a person's life like a disease. It replaces love with icy indifference and hardens caring souls till they are nothing more than stone.

It is the loss of innocence, the fall from grace.

Children become disenchanted; the world deprives them from goodness and sweetness. They become preoccupied with darkness, suffering and death. Childhood fantasies collapse, dreams are squashed and fairytales become stories riddled with lies. The magic dies. People betray and deceive, crushing hopes and demolishing trust. Sometimes the cold numbness can help them, as it forms protection from the pain that could easily seep into their lives and wreck them.

For a select few people, this never happens. They are the loving, the good and the brave. They have enough hope to see light in darkness and the beauty in a wilted flower. Their lives are lifted, as although they are constantly hurt and crushed by disenchantment, they continue to believe in deliverance and have enough spirit in their souls to survive the grief and anguish.

I am not so lucky.

I am dejected.

I am lost.

I am wrong.

I am hated.

I am misunderstood.

I am alone.

I am disenchanted.

--

"And they all lived happily ever after," my mother finished, closing the tattered book shut with a loud 'thud'. I sighed and smiled dreamily. Snow White was my favourite fairytale, and at age eight, I believed there was nothing better in life than sitting with my sisters and having the old story read to us. My mother was an exceptional story teller, often changing the pace and tone of her voice, leaving my sisters and me utterly mesmerised.

"I don't think that would have happened," Bella suddenly chirped. I blinked pointedly and Dromeda gawped, usually we were all highly content with the end of the story, and never questioned the actions and beliefs of the characters. Bella smirked proudly, tossing her hair back and diverging into her interpretation of the tale.

"The prince wouldn't have waited for so long, he would have just forgotten about Snow White and she would have been left." She stated proudly. Bella, the eldest sister, always seemed to say things with such superiority. She had been going to Hogwarts for a few years, and therefore in my eyes she knew everything.

"No he wouldn't!" Dromeda replied angrily. She seldom stood up to Bella, however on rare occasions her strength would show and a screaming match would almost certainly ensue. Bella frowned, a loose curl falling into her dark eyes, a mixture of rage and sinister enjoyment already tarnishing her youthful features.

"Don't even try to argue with me!" She shrieked, her fists clenched and her eyes mutinous. Dromeda pointedly opened her mouth, attempting and failing to verbalise thoughts that were too malicious for her to utter. Bella folded her arms, her fists still clenched, an air of triumph overcoming her. She had already won and the argument 

had not even properly begun. Dromeda sighed and left the room, accepting defeat graciously. Relief flooded me as there would be no argument between my sisters, yet I could not shake the uncertainty that had infected me. What if Bella was right? What if fairytales don't end happily ever after?

--

"Are you struggling with your Muggle Studies again?" A kind voice asked me. I glanced upwards, fighting to control the pools of red that were welling in my cheeks. I was a popular and elegant second year, with a fleet of admirers falling at my feet. However, there was only one boy that ever made my stomach do somersaults. He was five years older than me and was acclaimed for his interest in muggles. I was desperate to gain his attention, and had approached him asking for help and possibly extra tuition. Of course I wasn't really struggling, Narcissa Black did not struggle.

"Yeah Arthur, I just can't seem to work out what that is," I muttered, pointing at a picture of a light bulb in the old textbook. Arthur leaned over so his chin skimmed the top of my head, causing my pulse to quicken and my heart to burst into palpitations. He wasn't anything exceptional, his robes were always shabby and his blood far from pure, yet there was something about his deep hazel eyes and warm smile that utterly bewitched me.

"That's what muggles use to create light, like the lumos spell," he stated with a smile. I giggled and nodded, anxious to gain his approval.

"Thank you so much," I said and then took a deep breath and asked him, "would you like to go out with me sometime?" I probably sounded highly pathetic and immature, yet Arthur seemed flattered and grinned broadly.

I never felt nervous when I asked people for help or friendship, as their opinions did not matter to me. I had been taught to believe that I was superior, and therefore their thoughts were inconsequential and insignificant. However, asking Arthur that one question was possibly the most difficult thing that I had to say in my entire life, because I was fighting the expectations of my family and the behaviour that I had been taught. I was fighting disenchantment.

"That would be nice." He replied gently, and joy erupted in my heart.

--

"Seriously Cissy, don't be so pathetic! Arthur Weasley is a blood traitor." Bellatrix snapped; her eyes were wild with rage. Bella was my sister, my best friend and my mentor, her opinion meant everything to me. I blinked pointedly, shocked and disappointed, disenchantment flooding me. Thunder crashed outside, the rain hammering on the windows and streaking the panes with tears.

"But Bella, I really like him," I pleaded, yet it was no use. The look of fury on Bella's features told me that I should not even attempt to argue with her. A flash of lightning danced across the sky and illuminated the dark irises in Bella's eyes.

"He is a blood traitor and you deserve better than him. You deserve more. Lucius Malfoy seems quite interested in you, he is more deserving of your affection." She stated determinedly, her fingers slowly curling into fists.

"But I don't love him," I choked, tears welling in my eyes. Bella snorted and strode towards me, with each step she grew more intimidating and menacing. Her heels clicked on the floor and I shuddered as the rain grew fiercer, the wind howling and screaming.

"You sound as pathetic and weak as Dromeda. Do you want our family to abandon you, like her?" She hissed, before leaving. I blinked and fought the tears that welled in my eyes, trying to be strong, to be cold and flawless. That is what my sister expected of me, and I strived to fulfil her expectations. I wanted to be perfect, and that is what I would be, regardless of the suffering I had to endue.

After all, I had already lost the most important thing in my life. Hope.

--

"Don't talk to me," I murmured, striding through the corridor as fast as I could. Students dived out of my way, desperate not to infuriate the icy Slytherin queen. Light flooded through the windows, scorching my skin and blinding me. Dromeda hurried behind me, ignoring the shoelaces that were whipping at her ankles and the rolls of parchment that were falling from her arms.

"Please Cissy, listen! Arthur loves you!" She begged, grabbing my shoulder and causing me to halt. I felt my jaw lock and I pushed out all the feelings of longing so my icy demeanour was flawless. I wriggled, attempting to break free from her grasp, but she was older and stronger, and I could not escape her vice-like grip.

"Don't get sucked into the pureblood prejudices. We are no better than anyone else! Bella is just influencing you and deceiving you! Can't you see? You are so much better than her, than what we have been taught to believe." I turned on the spot so I was facing Dromeda, and I shuddered at the sorrow that was in her wide eyes. The sunlight caught the tears that were swiftly welling in her irises, glassy and warm. I could not cry anymore, the tears would be frozen by my icy facade. Guilt was already running through my bloodstream, yet I knew what must be done, no matter how much it hurt.

"Pathetic!" I spat, and I watched as the hope drained out of Dromeda's system. Disenchantment had already started destroying me, but I couldn't just revel in my own unhappiness, I had to infect others with the feeling too.

"You are worthless, a blood traitor. You mean nothing to me. Nothing." I whispered the words to give them more impact, relishing in the agony that they were causing. My blonde tendrils fluttered around my face as I took a step into the shadows, and I could feel my fingers curling into fists.

"But I'm still your sister," Dromeda choked, crystal beads spilling from her eyes and running down her cheeks. I raised an eyebrow, and folded my arms, just as Bella had done years before when she destroyed my fairytale. I was going to crush any wayward hopes that Dromeda had left; the dreams that her family would love and accept her destroyed with two words.

"Not anymore," and with that, Dromeda turned on her heel and ran, disappearing into the sunlight and leaving me in the shadows. I could hear her sobs echoing down the corridor, and yet they did not pierce me like they would have as a child. The arguments between Dromeda and Bella no longer worried me, and I did not care that my family was beginning to fall apart at the seams.

I was starting to become irrevocably numb.

--

"Will you marry me?" Lucius asked, and placed a very large diamond ring into the palm of my hand. I hesitated. Lucius in some ways was absolutely perfect. He was strong, powerful and had a large amount of the wizarding population at his beck and call. He was practically rolling in money, his wealth and riches unmatchable. Perhaps best of all was his blood, pure.

However, there was one main problem with our relationship.

No love.

We hardly trusted each other, and although there was great respect, we had both been disenchanted and our caring sides were destroyed and frozen. We were both fixed in our icy facades, too deceptive to show our true feelings to the world. There was no hope, no kindness and no love.

Disenchantment had stripped my being from all forms of caring, and what little love I felt was not for the man in front of me. Yet my family and my pride had forced him to hate me, and he had eloped with that pathetic Molly girl. My stomach still tied itself in knots at the thought of him, but I had to embrace the disenchantment and ignore any feelings that still remained. He was a blood traitor and I was far better than him. I deserved more, nobility ran in my blood.

Still, I did not love him.

"Yes." I replied softly, and in that moment, the world felt like it had grown slightly darker. I had abandoned what little love that I had left. I was truly alone.

--

Disenchantment.

The feeling has taken over my life and destroyed it. It is strange that I have adjusted to an emotion that is so horrific and cold. Now I can barely feel the terrible ache, my fortresses are flawless, pain and suffering barely scratching the surface. Almost nothing could destroy these walls that separate me from the outside world, from hope and love.

Almost nothing.

I have to catch my breath as I lean over the cradle, my heart fluttering in my chest. In deep slumber is my beautiful baby boy. He is so fragile, he needs shielded from all the suffering in the world. He is too delicate to be harmed.

He needs to be protected from disenchantment.

I gently place a kiss on his forehead and a single tear dribbles down my cheek. It is strange that a feeling so strong can be destroyed by the smallest, weakest creature. Love will always overcome, regardless of how powerful the opposition appears.

The love for my child is gradually stopping my disenchantment. It is teaching me to fight again, to love again and to hope again.

I am dejected.

I am lost.

I am wrong.

I am hated.

I am misunderstood.

I am alone.

I am disenchanted, but not for much longer.