Sparks of every colour were floating into the inky, star-strewn sky, the occasional few making their way low enough for the gathered children to squeal and tuck their feet in under their skirts and blankets.
"How do the black sparks glow, Bella?" Seven-year-old Narcissa gazed in awe up at the shower of dark sparks which, in deed, did glow even against the night.
"Blacks are the brightest, Cissy, that's how," Bellatrix said matter-of-factly, dark eyes equally as alight as the fire, she too staring transfixed.
Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "That's not a real answer."
Andromeda laughed from Narcissa's other side, pulling at the blanket the three of them had draped across their shoulders. "You're right, Cissy."
"Then what's the real answer?"
"Well, Bella's also right."
"That's not a real answer."
A huge peel of laughter came from some little ways away from the fire, where she knew her parents were sitting. The adults had been downing a dark drink since sunset that Narcissa had heard several names for, all of which she couldn't remember. All she knew was that the grown-ups became just as loud as her Aunt Walburga because of it, however everyone (including her aunt herself) were more cheerful than she was accustomed to seeing them. Looking over her shoulder at the group she saw that her mother even had her head rested upon her father's shoulder. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed this night so much every year.
Or perhaps it was more than that - it was everyone here together, the magic that even someone as young as her could feel sizzling in the air and on everyone's lips. The Sacred Twenty-Eight families had been gathering in such a fashion since the beginning of magic itself. She knew that not every one of the twenty-eight gathered every year - some families had recently chosen to abandon the rest for selfish reasons, so she was told, and also that once there had been many more than twenty-eight. Narcissa could barely imagine that - already nearly every person she knew was gathered around her right now, and it was hard to picture even more.
"We gather to protect us all," her mother had explained years ago when she had asked why they needed the festival every year, since she knew spring would end the bleak winter whether or not they celebrated it. "To remind us who we are and where we come from. There is safety in us coming together and remembering." Narcissa didn't know what they needed protection from, but she liked the thought anyways. Every adult fawned over her, the littlest Black daughter with such peculiar colouring, and she got to see her friends and cousins all in the same place.
"There are my princesses," the voice of an intoxicated Cygnus boomed from behind the girls, causing them to giggle as he wrapped his arms around all three at once and kiss them each on the top of the head. "My star, my flower, and my galaxy. What a fortunate man I am!"
Bellatrix stopped laughing to do her best at appearing bothered by her father's attention. "Father, don't treat us like children."
"Oh," he raised his eyebrows, for a moment looking entirely serious. "I'm sorry, I forgot –" he suddenly swooped Bellatrix into his arms and whirled her around as if she was much smaller than she was at eleven years old. Bellatrix couldn't stop the screech of laugher she let out, and Cygnus laughed along with her. " –My little star is all grown up and starting school! Can you believe it?"
"To the next generation of Slytherins, of our kind!" A large man Narxissa knew to be Monsieur Lestrange exclaimed upon the sight of Cygnus and Bellatrix. The other adults copied his words just as loudly and raised their glasses to the sky.
Narcissa grinned as she snuggled her head down onto Andromeda's lap, her sister subconsciously running her hands through her golden curls. The fire had grown taller with the enthusiasm from the adults, and Narcissa's insides felt just as warm as the flames.
"I'm so glad we're who we are, Andy," she murmured, blue eyes swimming with the multi-coloured gleams being spat from the enchanted logs.
"I am too," Andomeda agreed wholeheartedly, leaning down to plant a kiss on Narcissa's temple. "Toujours pur."
"Toujours pur, together." Narcissa settled into an easy sleep sometime after that despite the noise of the adults still reminiscing passionately. She woke the next morning smelling of wood smoke and sage, with no memory of her mother returning her from the field to her bed early that morning with a simple incantation of wellbeing murmured before the door was shut.