Coming Home – Prolouge
Narcissa Black was a very mild mannered, well spoken, if not utterly self-centered and often vain girl. She once prided herself on being the beauty of Slytherin house, and the best damn Chaser the school had seen in an age. Except for a few things she wasn't so well spoken about. A few people she didn't try and seduce. That she didn't dare speak to except for to mock, because actual conversation with the party in question would certainly give her away.
So, Narcissa, being a Slytherin—Stood behind the icy walls of her last name, of her Pureblood status. Of being one of the members of the ancient and most noble house of Black. She stood behind the silliness of believing that being of Pure blood meant that she was better than anyone else. That is, until someone came along to crack that illusion. That someone made everything up until that point was just acting, was just some silly game.
Yet, the truth was an ugly thing. Ugly and beautiful all at once, like most truths are. Like something that you long to tell everyone, but you dare not for fear of shattering the perfect world that you have created in your mind. Narcissa's world was red and gold and stolen kisses, whispers and promises. Dreams, laughter, joy. Certainly not things any normal Slytherin should be thinking of.
The truth was ugly because of the fact that Narcissa wore her green and silver with pride. She would never stop being a Slytherin, through and through. Yet—She knew she was not like the rest. She knew her housemates would never accept the real Narcissa Black. A girl with dreams, cares, wants, desires. A girl that did not care about the evil building in the world, that did not notice the power some say her last name gave her. The Narcissa that laughed, that saw joy in simple things. No, they would not like this truth at all.
They would not like a Narcissa that was in love, not one bit. The truth was cruel, then…Heartless in its logic. The icy reality of it all often made Narcissa wonder why she wasn't mad from the pain of the realization. There was no way to change it, but yet she often longed for a way to make things right. To make it somehow…Logical. To make what she dreamed of occurring, somehow—all right. To make it less of the disaster it would have been in the real world. She sighed, knowing such a day would never come.
Other times, though…And she perked up a bit as her mind drifted, her truth was beautiful. It was red, gold, orange. Fire. It was crisp apples, autumn, wood smoke. Beautiful was creamy skin scattered with freckles, emerald green eyes that saw straight into your soul and held it there, not letting it fall—Just letting you stay suspended in their beauty. Beautiful was a Mudblood. A Gryffindor. Everything she was supposed to hate, she instead adored. Coveted. Dreamed of. Oh, Lily Evans was every single thing Narcissa had ever wanted…And 'Cissa was a driven girl. Whatever she wanted, she usually got. Except for in the case of Evans, and it was driving her mad.
Cissa had been watching Lily Evans for years. It was now her fifth year at Hogwarts, and Lily's fourth. Evans was in some advanced classes, thus they shared some time blocks. They shared Advanced Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration. As it was, the next class was indeed…Potions. With a jolt, 'Cissa woke from her revelry and gathered her things, beginning the long and lonely walk to Potions class. The only joy she had to look forward to besides the actual Potion itself, was the fact that Lily would be there. Yes, indeed. That was certainly something to look forward to.