Narcissa Black wrinkled her nose at the sight of it – the Sorting Hat. She had heard all about it from her parents; aunts and uncles; and of course from Bella, who had told her it hurt like death the moment it was placed on your head.

'Does not.' Narcissa had said, rolling her eyeballs at her sister's taunt. 'Don't be stupid.'

'Stupid?!'

Her response had prompted Bellatrix to snatch a handful of her ghostly blond hair and tug until Narcissa's eyes began to water. Do not cry. She had thought, again and again. Never show weakness.

Instead Narcissa had done what she always did. She grit her teeth and imagined what it would be like when she was older – when she graduated Hogwarts and could leave her family's horrid home forever. She would get a job somewhere grand – perhaps the Ministry of Magic – and she would meet a kind wizard and they would fall in love.

'Think you're so smart, do you?' Bella snarled into her sister's ear. 'I'm still Mother and Father's favourite though, aren't I.'

That much, was true...

Now the hat dangled, lifeless, before her eyes. Its tip was clenched between the thin fingers of a stern witch with a tight brown bun. The witch set the hat down on a stool, and all of a sudden it began to sing.

Narcissa watched the folds of enchanted fabric writhe with the lyrics of the song, and she felt her shoulders tense at the thought of its grubby rim touching her beautiful blonde hair. She bit her lip and crossed her arms tightly beneath her robes. Just once. She thought. You only have to do this once.

When the hat finished its song – tuneless though it was – the first of the students was summoned toward it. Then another; and another. A girl beside Narcissa squeaked as the hat bellowed house names and sent student after student to one of the four long tables that lined the Great Hall. She mopped her glistening brow with the cuff of her robes. Narcissa felt sorry for her. She knew her fate, but it must be terribly frightening to have your whole school career hang on this one moment. She tried to shoot the girl a smile – perhaps they could be friends. The girl looked away, edging three steps further from her.

She knows. Narcissa thought sadly. She knows who I am.

'Narcissa Black.' The witch with the bun said sharply, her tone a thick Scottish burr.

This was it. This was the moment every student feared. And rightly so... Unless you happened to be a Black.

If you were a Black – a Pureblood of the highest order – then your future was already laid out before you. For a Black, there was only one house that would do. For a Black, there was no escape.

Narcissa settled herself on the tiny stool, tucking one foot elegantly behind the other. She winced as the hat settled on her head, its deep, ancient drawl whispering through her skull.

'Ambitious.' The hat sneered. 'And cunning too. A clever young thing, and you want the world to know it.'

She felt a hundred pairs of eyes upon her. Students, teachers, even the ghosts watched in silence as the latest Black was sent to join her dastardly kin. Any minute now...

Narcissa was not afraid. She simply did not do fear. Fear was weakness, and for a Black, weakness was not to be tolerated. She had had years to prepare for this; years to practice her response. She would stand up straight, smooth her robes and walk straight to the table with her head held high. She would look Bella straight in the face and smile, knowing that her eldest sister was both her greatest ally and her biggest threat. Seven years; that was all she had to endure. She had managed eleven already, and that was without the magic of Hogwarts to distract her. In seven years she would leave the school and leave her family behind. She would escape the fate they had in store for her, and she would carve her own path. Because after all, Narcissa Black was clever.

She was the cleverest Black of all.

'RAVENCLAW !'