to my steamed red fish: a bucket of love & good wishes and a sad story.

I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost

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the other path

The blackest night shall darken all souls, shall be the puppeteer of every good heart. All shall welcome oblivion, at the very end; it will be a mercy from the eternal hell of purest evil.

Those are the words that came to her that very night – once Lucius had slammed the door on his way out (she had begged him to stay) again, and probably would come back drunk and dizzy once more – or perhaps not return at all. Every syllable sounds clearly in her head – as though it were only yesterday that Druella had read the fairytale book to them.

(It wasn't supposed to be this way.)

She had tried to go after him – opened the door and tried to walk out, follow him, but as a gust of biting wind swept into the mansion, she thought better of it.

(It would harm the baby resting in her stomach.)

She puts a hand to her stomach. "Dobby," she calls, and the house-elf comes dashing through the kitchen doors. "Bring me a wet cloth. And a rose tea."

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy, Dobby will get it right away, Mistress." The house-elf leaves with a bow. Narcissa lies down on the sofa by the door, waiting for her husband. She stares out the floor-to-ceiling window. It is snowing.

(It is snowing.)

It is snowing.

Seven-year-old Narcissa watches the snow fall – little white flakes floating downward, adding to the thick blanket of sleet upon the dirt ground. "Mummy, can I go out and see the snow?" she inquires, tugging at the hem of Druella's sleeve.

"May," Druella says sternly.

Cissy sighs – it is a pretty, breathy sound. "May I please go out and see the snow?" she repeats, emphasising on the first word.

"Ask your sister to go with you," Druella instructs, "And put on your winter clothing."

Cissy obliges, returning to her bedroom to find the proper wear. She remembers herself, stepping carefully over the silk carpets in her boots, toward Andromeda's room. She reaches out a fragile, bird claw-like hand, and knocks…

Narcissa sighs – it is a weary, tired sound, and she shuts her eyes.

(Andromeda is no longer her sister, therefore she must not think about her.)

You always try to shut her out, do you?

A voice sounds in her head, sounding oddly like her first-year crush.

(But he's dead, Antonin killed him.)

Do you really enjoy following after your parents' footsteps?

Stop it, she thinks, stop questioning my life, Fabian. It's mine and I don't want any more change.

Did you really want to break with Andi?

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" she screams, just as Dobby comes in with the damp cloth and tea. "Your tea, Mistress Malfoy," he mumbles, placing it on the side table and backing in a hurried retreat.

"No, no, no!" Narcissa shrieks, her beautiful face in a mess of tears, "I… am… Narcissa… Malfoy… I… am…"

(Can't I?)

You could have broke free, became Mrs. Prewett.

But what good would it do, with a husband buried deep under the snow?

She ponders, and she waits. One day her Prince Charming would come, rescue her from this towering mansion… She was Rapunzel, trapped in a castle tower far far away…

(What she didn't expect was her fairytale to be Beauty and the Beast.)

-Written for Bonnidolle's (The Blackest Night) Challenge.

Disclaimer: Narcissa Black/Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Dobby the house-elf, Andromeda Black/Tonks, Fabian Prewett, Antonin Dolohov, and mentions of Beauty and the Beast & Shrek don't belong to me. as doesn't Robert Frost. (sniffle)

-Thank you Rabbi & Gaby for betaing/helping me through this :) I really appreciate it.

-and please leave a review, or else I'll borrow Huffie's pink monkeys and set them off on you ;) I've heard Marilyn Manson's afraid of them... as is Remus Lupin.

(reviewers get a choice of the previously mentioned two people: MM or RL)