Of two sisters, one is always the watcher, one the dancer. Such is life with sisters. I had the displeasure of not only one, but two sisters. Two sisters who were more beautiful, more gifted, more exceptional.

The noble house of Black lacked neither beauty nor talent. Perhaps that was my greatest downfall, being born into a family of beauties and geniuses. Nothing I did could ever be good enough when my younger sisters were already doing it to perfection. How could I ever compare?

I was never the beautiful one. Narcissa, with her perfect porcelain skin, cascade of golden locks, and sapphire eyes, was always the most gorgeous girl anyone had ever laid eyes on. From the time she was born strangers would approach us on the street just to compliment my parents on their lovely blonde pixie. I, as the eldest, was always ignored. As we grew into adolescence, Narcissa only became more beautiful. No one ever noticed her raven-haired, plain-faced sister. No, all they saw was an ugly duckling beside a faultless swan. Beauty was given to Narcissa, and it seemed unfair for me to hate her for it.

However, I was not my parents gifted child either. My younger sister Andromeda, as ashamed of her as my parents were, was still the Black sister with all the talent. Her only redeeming quality was that she was a pure-blood deserter and my parents hated her for it, leaving room for them to love me—if only for a second. The shame my parents felt when she was sorted into Gryffindor, their anger, gave me the best feeling I'd ever felt in my life. They hated her and loved me. For that moment in time, I was their good daughter. I made them proud. But Narcissa made sure that didn't last long.

Though I was the oldest, I was always second-best. But not with Him. He loved me like no one else ever could.

Once I began school, things changed. I was, as expected, sorted into Slytherin as every honorable Black before me. There I met others who would help me become the Dark Lord's greatest advocate, the LeStrange brothers, my sister's future husband Lucius Malfoy, Dolohov, Mulciber, Nott, Snape…men that would introduce me to a world far better than my own. One man, above all others, became my obsession.

Upon the completion of my education at Hogwarts, I joined the Dark Lord in his admirable quest and became his most faithful servant. No Death Eater loved Him as I.

Andromeda, of course, became a non-entity as far as my family was concerned. She deserted us, how could we not return the favor? Of her currently, I know little. She married Muggle and had a filthy half-blood child, of that, I am certain. The day she left Hogwarts was the last any of us ever saw of her. I wonder if she's happy. I hope that she isn't, that her days are as empty as mine and her nights filled with my nightmares.

Only I among my sisters remained faithful to the cause for which all Black's believed in—purity of blood. Narcissa, weak as she is, fulfilled her duties in other ways. She made a respectable, Pureblood marriage and produced an heir that would not only carry on both the Malfoy name and untainted blood, but also a future follower for the Dark Lord. She let her husband fight her battles for her.

This seemed the superior course to my parents. What I had done for the Purebloods—tortured the Longbottoms, endured Azkaban—was of no consequence because I was not their perfection.

Through the years I have realized that my parents never loved me, never would love me. They could never love anyone but Narcissa. Gryffindor was their excuse for Andromeda, but what about me? I was in Slytherin, I made a Pureblood marriage, I fought for Purity of Blood. What was really so wrong with me that I didn't deserve to be loved—didn't deserve to be treated like a human being?

How they must wish now that things had been different. Perhaps they did not love me, but He loves me unlike any other has ever known. He is the Dark Lord and I am his Dark Queen. In my womb I carry His child.

I am extraordinary. As I killed my parents, they finally saw what He had known all along.