Chapter One: Roses in the Servants
It was a Sunday morning in London. I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life, because today was my first day at my new school, Hogwarts, after moving to England over the summer. (My sisters and I had moved because our parents had died in a car crash. We have relatives that live in London, so we thought that would be a good place to live). Previously, I had lived in a small inconsequential town in Ireland, called Tara, that's known as the most magical place on earth. I went to a different school there.
"Narcissa, hurry up or we'll miss the train!" my sister screeched loudly at me from beside the fireplace in the living room.
"Coming!" I yelled down to her. I quickly exited my quaint bedroom whose sole window had a perfect view of the West End and Big Ben*, ran down the stairs, and sprinted into the living room—only coming to a halt when I stood next to both of my sisters by the fireplace. My sisters' names are Bellatrix and Andromeda. But while they look really similar to each other, they look nothing like me, except for the fact that we're all tall and thin—I'm 5'10.''**
"Ready to go?" Bellatrix asked me. I nodded as I grabbed my chic pink el salvador bag that I always carry with me, and then I stepped into the fireplace. Before I left, I swept my eyes around the house one last time nostalgically—I had only lived there for two months, yet I knew I was going to miss the cute house with the Victorian-style columns and the stucco roof that was in the middle of London in the 20th century.
I called "King's Cross!" as Bella threw floo powder in after me.
And...with a roar of green hot flaming fire, I was gone.
I suppose I should explain for all the non-Harry Potter readers out there that are reading this saga. You see—I'm magical! I'm a witch! So are my sisters, and a lot of other people. That's how I was able to step into the fireplace without getting burned and travel to a different place. The school I had attended in Tara was a school that taught me magic. Hogwarts is also a magical school, and I hear it's even better than Blarneyland! (the school that I went to in Tara, in case you couldn't figure that out.) That's mainly why I was so nervous—I was terrified that all the other students at Hogwarts would be a lot better than me at magic.
Once I had finished explaining that, I had arrived at King's Cross...finally. Bright sunlight shone in through the rafters of the building I found myself in, temporarily blinding me. It wasn't until my eyes adjusted to all the light that I noticed where I was.
I was surrounded by hundreds of people. There were parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles seeing their children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews off, and there were lots of people closer to my age too—anywhere from between the ages of 11 and 17. It kind of reminded me of the time I had gone to a Draco and the Malfoys concert***, and it seemed like there were thousands of people there, all moshing to the music.
I waited for Bellatrix and Andromeda to get their bearings and step out of the fireplace behind me, and then we took off for the train. The Hogwarts' express is painted this sick cheery red color, as if Godric Gryffindor had commissioned it with the intent of brainwashing everybody into going over to the dark side. We chose a compartment at the very back of the train; in Tara, we always sat at the front of the school bus because at the back of the bus was where all the cool kids sat; so on the train, when we saw an opportunity, we took it.
I was afraid that someone would come in and talk to me, so I took out my book, The Great Gatsby, and started to read. I put it right up in front of my face so I wouldn't make eye contact with anybody should anybody choose to come in. Sure enough, somebody did. I looked up. I gasped. Standing on the threshold of the train compartment was the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She had long dark black hair, piercing green catlike eyes that shone like a maharaja's emeralds, and exquisite pale skin that I could practically see through. In other words, she was the most perfect and lovely female I had ever seen in my life. My sisters looked drab and ugly in comparison—I probably looked downright hideous and revolting.
"What are you doing in our compartment?" she asked us in a curiously lilting voice. Southern Georgia, most likely Savannah, I decided after a moment of trying to place her accent. I was suddenly struck with a bolt of shyness, and so I put The Great Gatsby up once again in front of my face to avoid answering her question. My voice would probably sound like an amphibian's coming right after hers anyway, or maybe just a chainsaw. Luckily, Bellatrix saved me the trouble of having to answer her by answering her herself. Bellatrix has a lower, gruffer voice that always makes her sound like a chihuahua-pitbull crossbreed about to attack. Anyway, it makes her sound like she has a lot of authority.
"We're new here, and so we just chose a compartment," Bellatrix informed the newcomer.
Andromeda got down on her knees and grabbed the hem of the girl's robes. "Please!" she said in a silkily pathetic voice, "Just tell us...what to do...where to sit. None of us yet understand the social order of this school!" Andromeda always had been the wet blanket of the family.
A boy appeared behind the girl. I gaped at him from behind my book. He was most definitely the handsomest guy I had ever seen, with curly brown hair that exploded from his head and ran down his neck in little ringlets. His shirt was slightly open in front also, so I could see that the hair continued down his neck to his tanned chest, where it clung in dark patches like undergrowth in the Amazon Rainforest.
He smirked at me. "I'll give you a poster of myself so you can stare all you want." Then everybody turned to look at me. I realized I must have been staring at him; flustered, I flung my book back up over my face.
The gorgeous girl poked him playfully. "Be nice Zephyr. These girls are new to Hogwarts and so did not know that this compartment belonged to the Death Eaters."
The Death Eaters. That must be the name of their clique. It sounded a little cheesy, but my thoughts were insignificant to the extreme when faced with their titillating beauty.
Two more people then entered the compartment—a guy and a girl. I thought they could be twins because they both looked so similar...long dark brown hair, mean chocolate-colored eyes, and they were tall, tall like me. They pretty much looked just liked the elves from Lothlorien (like, the way I pictured them, before the movie came out). They joined their friends in staring at us—well, mainly at Andromeda, because she was still clutching the first girl's dress on the floor.
She—the first girl—spoke again mellifluously. It made my ears sing. "Amycus, could you please get our guests some refreshment?"
The tall dark-haired twin suddenly conjured up a platter with seven goblets on it with a movement so fast it made me wonder if he had taken lessons from The Great Houdini. Andromeda took her seat, and then we all took a goblet. I took a sip. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't pumpkin juice. By this time, the four strangers had also sat down, and we all stared at each other. I felt really embarrassed to be there. I mean, I was really ashamed of my appearance. Here I was sitting across from four practically supermodels, and I was stuck with my sisters and my own average body.
The sound of Zephyr's voice tore me away from my everyday thoughts. "Why don't we introduce ourselves—I would love to learn your names!" He smirked at me, and I felt myself blushing fiercely. Both Andromeda and Bellatrix blush beautifully, with pink tingeing their cheeks like roses. I, on the other hand, blush like a freshwater lobster on its first date—all blotchily. Not that my sisters were blushing, only I was at that time. I was only describing them for comparison.
Bellatrix, the brave warrior, spoke up first. "I'm Bellatrix."
Andromeda next: "Andromeda."
Then everybody turned to look at me. "My name...um...oh, I'm Narcissa," I said with relief as I remembered.
Zephyr smirked at me again and then winked, and my sisters gave me strange looks.
"Well," said the first lovely raven-haired maiden in her southern drawl, "I'm Azalea."
"Zephyr!" He purred as he said this, either to make me uncomfortable or because he thought he was a cat.
"Amycus." He nodded at us, all serious-like.
"And I'm Alecto." She, like her brother, said this very seriously, and with a straight face.
"Well, now that that's all over, I think my sisters and I can go find another compartment!" I leaped up from my chair and skidaddled over to the door, but before I could open it, Zephyr was suddenly standing there in front of it. He had somehow moved faster than I could see. It was almost as if he had magical powers I knew nothing about.
"Narcissa, don't be so rude" Andromeda reprimanded me primly.
Azalea got up from where she was sitting and glided over to us. She put her hand on my arm. "Oh, stay a little while. After all, you are our guest."
She was so beautiful that I was worried she might put the Imperius curse on me if I did not obey her. In my book, beautiful = dangerous. I sat down again.
"Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa." Azalea said our names as if she was trying them out on her tongue. "You must be the Black sisters. Remind me of your years again."
I stared at her as though I was paralyzed. How did she know who we were? Who had told her about us? Had she been spying on us?
"Well," Bellatrix said gruffly, "I'm a seventh year, Andy here is a sixth year, and Cissy is a fifth year."
I blushed for a second time. It was always an embarrassment to me that our parents had had three kids in three years. It was as if they were really desperate for an heir, and then by the time I came along, they realized how hopeless life really is.
Zephyr then took his eyes off me long enough to open his mouth and talk. "We know all about you from your cousin of course. He told us how your parents died in a car crash, and then you moved to England to be closer to your relatives."
At the mention of my extended family, everybody's face darkened. Regulus was all right—he had been sorted into Slytherin, the house of our ancestors, and was doing normal Slytherinish activities. Sirius****, however, had been sorted into Gryffindor, which was pretty much the worst thing that could happen to a person. Everybody who was in Gryffindor eventually went bad. We don't talk about him anymore. And when we are forced to talk about him for some reason, we just refer to him as "You Know Who," or "He Who Must Not Be Named."
"So, tell us about the Death Eaters. Is it a club?" Bellatrix asked greedily. Bellatrix absolutely loves clubs, because you get to exclude everybody you don't like. In the Death Eater club, that would probably be everybody like me that wasn't good-looking enough.
"A club? Oh...well...yes, I suppose it is sort of like a club." Azalea and Zephyr looked at each other and started laughing. Amycus and Alecto sat quietly in the corner as if they didn't get the joke. I have to confess, I didn't get it either. I squirmed in my chair, wishing I could go back to Tara, where everything was so slow and rural and the people were so wonderfully ugly like me.
SWOOSH! The door suddenly swooshed open, and Azalea and Zephyr just as suddenly stopped laughing. I gasped, and quickly put The Great Gatsby over my face again. Because, standing in the doorway was the most beautiful person in the world. And I mean that this time. He made Azalea look like a magnolia plantation warthog, Zephyr look like a hairy toasted coconut, Amycus look like the granduncle of Jareth the Goblin King from Labyrinth, and Alecto look like me. I had only got to look at him for about a second before I had had to put the book up to preserve my sanity, but what I saw filled my insides with an electrifying sensation that must be similar to being electrocuted. He—the boy (was he a boy? He looked so heavenly manly to me, but as he was on the Hogwarts' Express, rationality told me that he probably was no older than me) was—so...pale! Just like the way I'd always imagined an angel to be. He had practically blinded me with his breathtaking paleness. And his hair was so long, smooth, and silky looking that I almost cried just looking at it. I yearned to run my fingers through it. But that wasn't the half of it. The sheer elegance of his physique just stunned me, and left me breathlessly trying to catch my breath. He couldn't be a human...he was much too good for any of us, especially me. He must be the physical manifestation of one of those Greek Gods, sent down from his mountain to punish my family for blemishing this compartment full of immortals with our untimely appearance. I felt sick, felt like vomiting on the floor as if that could have purged me of my sinful identity. I felt like running into his arms and begging to be taken away from this awful world. I felt...nothing.
*Big Ben is a big famous clock tower, if you were dumb enough not to know that.
** You see, people like me don't use the metric system.
*** It's a muggle-band, for real!
****My youngest cousin, for everybody out there who hasn't read the books.
