Numb

A/N: I know, I'm posting oneshots instead of posting new chapters on my ongoing stories, but when the plot bunnies attack, they attack hard. Rest assured, I am working on my chaptered stories. I just have a bit of writers block right now.

For the longest time, Narcissa Black hated her name. It was, of course, an old name, a proper name for a girl born into an ancient family, but she hated it. Narcissa, she found out, meant numbness. And Narcissa Black was anything and everything but numb. She was wild and carefree and childish and a Black to the end. And being a Black meant that you could never be numb, because being a Black meant anger and emotion and blood and everything that meant anything.

And it didn't matter to her that Bella was slowly going crazy, Dark Magic nearly pouring from her as she laughed her way through Hogwarts. Later she will laugh her way through the ranks of the Death Eaters, and Narcissa will know with the surety that comes from a lifetime of watching her sister go insane, that Bella will laugh her way into the grave. Just like Sirius, but shh….Narcissa isn't supposed to know about that, although she will, just like Andromeda will. Being a Black meant more than just bonds of blood, although no one seems to realize that.

There is a reason that Andromeda and Ted Tonks are not hunted down for daring to sully the Black line with a half-blood child. It is not simply the reemergence of the Metamorphmagus talent, although that certainly helps stay Bella's hand, at least. No, it is the knowledge that she is a Black, no matter her last name, no matter her marriage to a mudblood. It doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things.

But other Purebloods don't understand how the Black family works, so Narcissa ruthlessly mocks her eldest sister in the Slytherin common room, and listens to Bella and Regulus do the same. Of course, by the time Regulus comes she is ready to graduate, looking forward to a bright new future with her future husband at her side.

And then everything changes. The war against the mudbloods goes into full swing, and her husband does the unthinkable. He allows himself to be marked like cattle. And then Bella does the same, and then, to her horror, Regulus follows suit. The night after Regulus takes the Dark Mark, Narcissa goes to Andromeda for the first time since she married her mudblood, and she tells her to run.

Andromeda doesn't, of course. She is a Black, despite her unfortunate marriage choices, and she will not run from her own family. Time goes on to show that Narcissa was being overly paranoid, but before the First War is over she has distanced herself from Andromeda, and Sirius and Bella and Reggie, because damnit they were going to die and leave her to the mercy of her husband.

And Lucius had changed as well. Torture and murder didn't agree with him, and she found it easier to change her ways and keep her mouth shut than to look for ways out of an unbreakable marriage contract. So she stays silent and learns to be the wife he wants and learns to cover the occasional bruise with clever makeup tricks that her mother had taught her but she thought she'd never have to use.

And when little Draco is born she hates him. But she loves him too, because he is proof that she is a good wife. Narcissa has given her husband a firstborn son, an heir to the throne of power that the Dark Lord promises him.

And then the Dark Lord is defeated by a baby Draco's age, and Lucius loses it. The next day she has broken bones and more bruises than she cares to count, but she looks at the crib behind her and smiles grimly, because her baby is safe. And he will continue to be so as long as Narcissa Black has breath left in her body.

Still, as the years go on Narcissa becomes less Narcissa Black, less powerful and brave and cunning and brilliant, and becomes more Narcissa Malfoy, a cold and closed off wife and mother. Those who remember her from her school days find it shocking for a while, until time re-writes their memories so she was always cold Narcissa Malfoy and never fun loving Narcissa Black.

And she watches her son grow up, and grow distant as his father teaches him things that should never have been shown to a child. But Lucius is determined that the Dark Lord will rise again, and she bites her tongue and smiles at him, brittle and cracking at the edges. But time has a way of smoothing over all cracks, and soon that smile becomes natural and cold and completely fake, because Narcissa doesn't care about mudbloods, she cares about the Blacks.

But the Blacks are no more. Regulus is dead, having betrayed the Dark Lord. Sirius and Bella are both in Azkaban, and Andromeda married a mudblood. She will never be a Black again. But then, neither will Narcissa the moment that her husband casts the Cruciatus Curse on her ten year old son and she doesn't look away from the newspaper.

Blacks protect their children, but she is no longer a Black. She hasn't been since her mother sold her to keep the prestige of their branch of the family. She hasn't been since the last time Lucius knocked her to the ground, and she heard her eight year old son laugh at her.

So she listens to him through his Hogwarts years, her face a stone mask of disdain and boredom as he complains and whines and Lucius gives him everything he wants. And when the Dark Lord commands her to check Harry Potter to make sure he is dead, she tells him the truth and watches a boy that could have been her son become awash in sickly green light for the second time.

Narcissa Malfoy hates her name, but finds it incredibly fitting all the same. Because she is no longer a Black, and Narcissa Malfoy is not allowed to be anything but numb, so she will stand back and watch the world burn around her.