Hey guys! As my school year is ending, I have been having a harder time finding time to write as I busy with finals. That is why I haven't been as active on my account, but don't worry, I will be POSTING this summer. This story, for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Comp, used the prompts happiness and "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Eleanor Roosevelt (this story has an earlier publication date because I redid an earlier story with the prompts), I hope you enjoy!

—-

Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black's, first memory as a child was herself as a five year old running up to her mother. She had pulled on the end of the woman's long dress, not even tall enough to reach past her knee. The woman looked down at little Narcissa in disgust, instinctively backing away.

"What, you insufferable child?" Her mother hissed, face filling with hatred. Narcissa knew, that even at her age, that her mother wanted her gone. But in her typical, child-like fashion, she stayed there at her feet.

"Bellatrix won't give me back my dolls!" Narcissa replied, tatiling on her sister who was in the other room. It seemed perfectly logical at the time, to tell on the little heathen that had taken her toys and spit in her face. But, looking back, Narcissa could see how she was mistaken.

Her mother just took one look at her child, one look at her pleading eyes, and backhanded her in the face. The little girl was sent sprawling into the wall, head hitting the stone. There was some blood, and there were some silent tears, but there was not one more complaint about her sister taking her toys. Narcissa had learned her lesson.

This was how it was in her family, and according to her friends, this was how it was in all Pureblood families. Perfect on the outside, poisonous on the inside. Her grandfathers had hit her grandmothers, and both sets of grandparents had hit her parents. So her Dad hit her mom, and both of her parents hit her as well as the rest of her sisters. For the most part, it worked.

With each blow Bella seemed to grow more extreme, each explaining more and more about her later insanity. You could see it in her eyes, she was in pain. Then added with her already cruel nature, it later became a road she couldn't travel back from.

Andromeda was almost the complete opposite, and instead of losing sanity she seemed to gain courage and wisdom. Her childhood abuse leading her to realize the faults in her raised ideals, something Narcissa only wished applied to her.

Narcissa didn't necessarily lose or gain anything from the abuse. Instead, for her, she just slowly disappeared. Her self-confidence and worth were diminished, her personality becoming non existent. She became a husk of a person, or something also known as a perfect pureblood wife. And, with that knowledge, she was quickly married off to the best suitor her parents could find.

Lucius wasn't that bad, especially when they first met. He was pretty charming, and certainly very handsome. But he also didn't try to be perfect either. Even though it wasn't at the velocity of her parents, he would occasionally hit her. It was really just to keep her in line, and she understood this. It was Draco that she was more worried about.

Draco was also hit as a child, no doubt about it. Both Lucius and Narcissa didn't know any other way to scold him or mold him into the Pureblood child they needed in the beginnings of war. But as the war began to consume the family's every moment, it shifted Lucius's temper as well. He became standoffish at his own son, easily angered. Then, after the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Draco just seemed to fail over and over again in his father's eyes.

Lucius was prone to spouts of infeasible rage on his heir. Leaving him with black eyes and broken bones, with Narcissa left to clean up his mess. She begged and pleaded with her husband to go easy on the boy, reminding him of the pain he had shared with her at his own childhood assaults. But all attempts to reason with the man were null and void, he had fallen into the cycle just like his father and grandfather before him.

—

Years passed, the war ended, and Lucius was sent to jail. This left Narcissa and Draco on their own, strengthening their relationship like never before. But Draco also began strengthening his relationship with someone else, Astoria Greengrass.

Now he and the girl had been acquaintances before the war, Draco being closer to her sister, Daphne. But, ever since Lucius was arrested, Draco started having more in common with the girl than almost anyone else. Both had similar jobs, values, and hobbies. But most of all, both shared the pain in having fathers, who the loved and hated so much, go to Azkaban for roughly the same reasons.

At first, Narcissa hated Astoria. She saw herself in the "perfect pureblood" girl, the pain in her eyes being all too familiar. But with that came the knowledge that despite the Dark Lord being gone for good, her potential grandchildren would probably be treated just the same as the past several generations. It wasn't until Narcissa had a long talk with Astoria after the announcement of her engagement to her son that she realized just how wrong she had been.

—

It was the morning after the engagement party. Astoria had stayed the night and was left awkwardly with Narcissa at the breakfast table when Draco had had to rush off to work. Astoria didn't need to follow suit for several more hours, and Narcissa wished time went faster.

Neither lady had bothered to get to know the other, and Narcissa got the feeling that she didn't really want to. This changed when one of the remaining manor house elves brough the pair that morning's Prophet, and words were finally spoken.

It was given to Astoria first, and her reaction was almost immediate. Tears welled up in her eyes as the paper was dropped in her lap, horror, confusion, and shock on her face

"Astoria?" Narcissa asked concerned, as she instinctively got up and ran over to the young girl. The headline read "GREENGRASS SENIOR'S SENTENCE EXTENDED AFTER FOUND GUILTY OF SEXUALLY ABUSING HIS TWO DAUGHTERS."

There was silence for a long time, before Narcissa said one whispered phrase. "Is it true?"

"It was Daphne, I told her not to come forward until after the wedding." She said, having a hard time speaking through her tears. "But...but yes. She was right, it's true."

Then the realization came on Narcissa that this girl, her future daughter in law, was nothing like her.

Narcissa had looked down on the girl for years, worried that the pain in her eyes resembled her own. But, now she realized it was so much worse than she could've ever imagined. "I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Astoria breathed out.

Narcissa paused, "But what if I want to." Astoria looked up at the woman, shock on her face.

"I have a confession," the older woman began, "I never made much of an effort to get to know you, because I thought you were too much like me." Astoria looked confused. "I saw myself in you, the best parts, but also the worst parts. I made so many mistakes with Draco, I let his Father be so cruel to him. And...and I guess I felt you would make the same ones, allow Draco to be his Father. Something that I had feared for so long. Now...now I see I was mistaken."

Astoria did respond at first, pausing as if to think about what the women had just said. "I would rather die a brutal death than see any child of mine be hurt like Draco was, or how I was. There is a pattern, I know you see it, of abuse and violence in Pureblood put on a smile for the world, even when you feel so unloved and insignificant by the ones that are supposed to love you that you don't even know what those emotions are like. You've felt it, Draco has felt it, and lord knows I've felt it. But, that pattern ends right here right now. I…I promise you. No one will or can ever make us feel inferior without our consent, we are stronger than that."

The two women fell to the floor, embracing each other as both cried. An unspoken bond of friendship, and later love, forming between the two.

—-

9 months later, Narcissa could be seen standing in the front row, beaming from the enormously happy feeling in her, as Astoria walked down the aisle. She could care less about the under 50 guests in attendance, or her daughter-in-law's unconventional cream colored dress. She just cared about the smile on the happy couple's faces, on the rivaled her own.

Then, about two years after that, Narcissa would often be caught holding a little girl, her granddaughter to be exact. And thanks to Astoria, Narcissa could to so without fear of the pain inflicted upon her by her own family. This baby marked the end of a cycle, a closing chapter in so many people's stories of pain. A new hope.