Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't own the characters. Anything that is recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling or the authors I credit in my quotes.

"But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said "Nevermore." –Edgar Allan Poe, Nevermore

Days later, Andromeda and Narcissa accompanied Leona Lestrange on her trip to Diagon Alley to be fitted for new dresses for the announcement party. They were there to assist her in anything she would need their help with, which was really nothing. Narcissa suspected that Mrs. Lestrange was starved for feminine companionship. Her husband, and her two sons were the only family that she had. Even though Bella married into her immediate family, she was not feminine in the slightest.

So Narcissa and Andromeda were spoiled by the overbearing woman's attentions. She picked them out jewelry and had them try on many frilly dresses. Narcissa wasn't fond of the gaudy and frivolous dresses that she was told to try on, but she didn't protest too much.

The worst one was a garishly neon pink dress. Tulle made up the skirt, and the bodice was bedazzled in colorful gems. The gems made the dress a kaleidoscope of colors. When Narcissa donned the dress, the skirt stuck out at odd angles because of the tulle. The shopkeeper lied when she informed her that she looked like a fairy princess. Narcissa looked like a six year old girl playing dress up.

While that was the worst looking dress she was to endure, there were some others that were almost as bad. An orange dress that emphasized her lack of curves and clashed horribly with her coloring. A green dress that was too short on her legs. A red dress that looked like something her grandmother would wear.

There was one dress, however, that she was immediately drawn to. It was a deep royal blue, simple, but had a very flattering cut. It was asymmetrical, with one strap and one bare shoulder. The fabric shimmered slightly, glittering like jewels in the light of Madame Malkins shop.

Narcissa smoothed the dress over her abdomen, turning to observe herself in the mirror. It was breathtakingly simple. It suited her, she thought. Even though it was guaranteed to attract more attention than the robes she usually wore, she knew that it wasn't as bedeviled and attention grabbing as most girls her age would wear.

"Nissa!" Andromeda called from outside of her changing room door. "You are taking forever! Mrs. Lestrange won't let me change out of this atrocity until she sees what you have."

Narcissa turned and unlocked the door. She stepped into the light and heard Andromeda gasp.

"That's your dress. It's amazing," she gushed. "It's perfect. You aren't leaving the store without it," she declared, linking arms with her younger sister at the elbows.

"I like it," Narcissa grinned, skipping to where Leona Lestrange was waiting.

"You just like it?" Andromeda joked back. Narcissa grinned, but didn't have time to say anything more before Mrs. Lestrange loudly stated her opinion of the dress.

"Narcissa that dress is made for you!" Mrs. Lestrange declared. She stood up from her tufted chair. She came forward and circled around the blonde girl. "It doesn't even need to be altered."

"And it is better than that pink monstrosity," Andromeda laughed.

Narcissa smiled, then turned to the shopkeeper. "I want this one."

"Excellent. I will have it wrapped and sent to your home." The shopkeeper smiled.

Dear Lucius,

I don't know if you will exactly call this progress, but I am going to be helping Leona Lestrange in the preparation for a party. I'm not exactly ecstatic about choosing floral arrangements and such, but I figure it is something I must grow accustomed to.

I have owled Sabine Laurendeau a few times since meeting at the party earlier this summer. I don't know how directly that translates into social skills. It is easier for me to write than it is to speak. When writing, you can always erase or start over again and the other would not know. You can't do that in spoken conversations.

I hope your summer is going well.

-Narcissa

Narcissa sighed as she sealed her letter for her owl to deliver. She hoped it wasn't rude to owl at this hour. She didn't know if ten was too late to owl someone, as she had never realty had cause to do so before. She rarely had to owl her sisters, and her father wouldn't care if she sent him post late at night if she had to. When she would correspond with Sabine, she would always wrote her letters to her in the morning.

A brief letter from Lucius had arrived for her while she was out in Diagon Alley being fitted for new dresses. A house elf had informed her as soon as she arrived home that a letter had come, and that it was waiting on her bed for her to respond to. Narcissa wasn't able to immediately get to the letter, though, as they also had dinner waiting for them at the table. By the time Narcissa was able to find the time to respond the sun had already set and most people would have been in bed and asleep. She was tempted to wait and respond in the morning, but she decided that Malfoy would probably prefer her to be prompt even if some would consider it rude.

When Narcissa finished penning her letter, she tried to sleep. Though her muscles ached and it was very late, she found herself restless. Narcissa tossed and turned for quite a while before giving up. Even though she was absolutely exhausted, sleep would not come. Instead, she decided to read.

Narcissa wasn't in the mood for reading her school books, nor did she need to. She was nearly finished with the assigned readings for the upcoming school year. So she grabbed a book of prose and poetry. Poems usually annoyed Narcissa and she had to be in a certain mood to read them with any amount of patience. Poems had a roundabout sort of logic to them that irritated her, they never really just said what they meant. With her school books they were always very clear in the point and purpose they had for existing. Arithmancy had clear formulas, history is completely and neatly laid out. Potions had clear and concise instructions for an absolutely transparent purpose. Poetry had none of this clarity. It was unclear, and never just had one visible purpose or meaning. It would never just come up and say what its point of existing is.

This particular night, however, she didn't feel like reading anything else that was immediately available to her. She didn't want to leave her room to look through the library for something she absolutely wanted to read at that moment, and poetry seemed like it would best fit her mood.

She grabbed the book and flipped it open. It was a collection of classic poems and they weren't in any particular order. She recalled from the last time that she read this that she enjoyed the middle section of the book more than the rest. The book opened on Nevermore, a poem by Edgar Allen Poe.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"Tic some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more."

Narcissa was interrupted from her reading by an impatient scraping at her window. There was a raven perched on the seal of her window, raking his claws against the glass of the window. His beady eyes were unnerving, cold and almost lifeless. The ravens feathers were so black, and his eyes so dark that Narcissa could hardly make out its outline against the darkness of the night. He had an envelope secured around a dark collar around his neck. The raven pecked at the window with his beak once more before squawking loudly.

Narcissa unlatched the lock on her window and pushed it open gently. The raven strutted in through the small opening with an air of superiority. His dark beady eyes seemed to look up with her with almost an exasperated and disgusted expression.

As she reached to undo the fastenings around the envelope, her own owl flew back into her room. Her snowy owl was carrying no post. While Narcissa was looking away, the raven ferociously pecked at her fingers with its beak. Narcissa recoiled for a moment, annoyance bubbling up inside of her. She yanked the envelope from the bird's collar, earning her a sharp squawk of irritation from the raven. Using her uninjured hand, she opened the window wide and shooed the rude bird out of her room.

The beak didn't do too much harm to her hand, but it had broken the skin in a few places. These places has shallow scrapes that would heal in a few days, she knew, but she was still irritated with their appearance. Scrapes were something that small children got, not her. They looked hideous against the cream color of her hands.

She pulled out the letter and read.

Narcissa,

Party preparations seem to be tedious by themselves. Anyone who has to endure anything for an extended amount of time with Mrs. Lestrange has my pity, if I may be so bold. I still think that it may be a good idea, even if you must do so under the grandiose woman's care.

I received an invitation for the event this morning. I will attend, simply for the pleasure of your company. I know of a few people that you may have not met before that I will introduce you to.

I would suggest that you invite Sabine Laurendeau over for tea, or some other event outside of the home. Go shopping or something.

I apologize for any inconvenience that the Raven may have caused you. He is a rather rude bird. Your owl had a bit of a fright delivering your letter, and I thought it best that something else deliver a response.

I look forward to seeing you in a couple days. We will be able to discuss more then.

-Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa smiled at the letter. She folded it back up in its envelope before putting it in the top drawer of her desk. She yawned, forgetting about her injured hand before laying down and falling asleep.

A/N: Hey! I updated within a reasonable time period! I'm proud of myself.

I uploaded a new story called Black Family Values. It is going to be a collection of oneshots centered around the members of the Black family. I would appreciate it if you guys went and checked it out and let me know what you think.

I also created a blog on both tumblr and wordpress if you guys want to keep up with what I do and such. I am tumblr user shayisaslytherin, as is on here. My blog is .com, so check them out if you feel so inclined.

And I have been wondering what your guys favorite chapter has been so far in this story. Would you guys be so kind as to tell me which one is the best in your opinion? Send me a review or a PM with your answer, and maybe even why you like it.

Thanks!

Shay