It was common knowledge that whenever the Blacks entertained, one would be entertained. No expenses were ever spared and this occasion, Her Grace's crowning event, was no exception. In fact, tonight Her Grace had perhaps outdone herself. Their extensive rooms in Paris were decorated lavishly, decked in gold and streaming silver. Dance music gaily poured from the ballroom as the guests flowed in and out; claret, burgundy and rattafie was in abundance and the place was abuzz with the news. Young Miss Narcissa was an absolutely delicious young lady: all delicacy and manners, but with a charming coquettishness and hauteur that spoke of her relations. Her wit was demure but evident, her curtseys all charm and grace, and those eyes! How they sparkled: each murmur of praise concerning her brought a new sheen of delight, and her delicate white fan wafted in front of her dazzling smile when someone bestowed a fervent compliment. Narcissa, in short, was the very picture of what a young debutante ought to be, and each time Her Grace Druella was stopped in her duties as hostess to be congratulated on such a charming young lady, her pride swelled.

Naturally, Narcissa's family were in attendance, and when her cousin, my lord Sirius and his collection of friends (coined the 'Marauders') arrived, one could only be pleased that my lord had turned up at all. He made it no small secret that the family and he were not of a mind, but an occasion such as this one - well, one must be seen, you understand.

The small troupe of young bucks alighted from their chaise and, in good spirits, made their way into the Black residence. My lord Black led the way, and upon encountering his youngest cousin being introduced to each new member of personage in the main hall he made a great (or rather, greater than expected) leg, and greeted her jovially.

"Cuz! You know Cissy, I could hardly recognise you, you look a vision!" My lord's manner gave Narcissa to believe that he had been drinking claret for possibly quite some time, but her eyes sparkled at his words.

"Thank you, Sirius," she responded, warmer than she had intended, for his praise had thawed some of her iciness toward his manners. She glanced at his friends, and he seemed to recall himself, adding:-

"Oh yes! Cissy, allow me to introduce to you my esteemed friends! My esteemed friends," and he turned enthusiastically to them - swaying but a little - "this is my youngest cousin Miss Narcissa Black. This is Mr Lupin, Earl of Shack," and a kind looking gentleman with heavy eyes made a very elegant and langourous bow, "Mr Pettigrew," a short, rounded man made a passable attempt at a florid leg, "and my very good man, Lord Potter, Marquis of Peverell." A tall man with dark eyes and a quizzically amused brow then looked upon her with an eye that affronted Narcissa in its inattentiveness, and smirked but a little. My lord Potter did not hesitate, but took her hand and bowed low over it, meeting her eyes with an almost mocking gleam.

"Enchanté, mademoiselle. Your most obedient," he offered, his voice almost imperceptibly laced with irony, and his eyes lingered but a little before turning brusquely to Black and asking with a wide, mischievous smile, "Faro?" Whereupon, three of them dissipated into the crowd. My lord Shack turned to her and made another languidly graceful and deferential bow, which Cissy returned, before melting away into the crowd.

Narcissa felt her pert lips frozen in their position. Had my lord Potter been mocking her? She could not tell, and Trixie - who had averted her attention in favour of a nearby Earl Lestrange when Sirius and his posse had arrived, on the account that she could not stand them - had not paid attention in the least. Trixie, now affirmed of their absence and took Cissy's arm once more.

"La, I know they must be here but could not he at least confine himself to society more suited to himself?" She complained, shaking her curls out impetuously. Narcissa would have responded, had it not been for Trixie who in the next moment, drew in a deep breath of excitement. "Oh my love, the Lords Malfoy have come at last. And so they should, for 'tis the biggest event of the season, but Cissy! Is not my lord Lucius a fine specimen?" Bellatrix giggled as they watched the two men slowly approach amidst the throngs of people milling about.

His Grace Salazar stopped his son momentarily as they strolled through the bustling personages, and said impassively, "Try not to ruin her just yet, Lucius." His son smiled unashamedly, turned to his father and inclined his head very slightly.

"Not just yet," he repeated, and his father gave one short huff of amusement. Together, they moved forward to greet the two sisters. Bellatrix flirted with both the lords Malfoy as they neared, and greeted them delightedly.

"Your Grace, my Lord, how delightful it is to see you once again. You must be dreadful irked, travelling here together." The Malfoys gave light mirth, and expressed their joy at attending. "And now," Bellatrix continued, "may I present to you, my debutante sister Miss Narcissa Black," and Cissy made a very pretty curtsey, her eyebrow quirking in coquettish mischief. "My love, may I introduce His Grace the Duke of Salazar," the elder man in question bowed low over her hand, "and his son Lord Malfoy." The younger man, with a dark brow at odds with his light dress, met her eyes and was surprised by their intense blue. Once again, Cissy found herself faced with a strangely mocking expression, and experienced a very odd sensation of symmetry as he, like his father, bowed over her hand. He met her eyes and said in a soft voice, almost menacing,

"Enchanté, mademoiselle. Your most obedient."