Breaking free from mangled chains
Part I – Narcissa
She'd always favoured him. Perhaps too much, although in the eyes of a pureblood, a spoiled heir was a fulfilling heir. But their bond was deeper than that. She remembered when her Uncle Orion had first brought him home, she was only young then, but unconditional love had formed between the two of them, or so she had thought.
She'd been beside him as he grew up, watching him take his first steps, along with his first rebellion. She'd heard the complaints her Aunt would throw about, claiming they needed to tighten his leash and stop his 'stupid rebellious attitude' but Uncle Orion would just faintly smirk and claim 'boy-ish' behaviour. But soon, she would see deeper than that.
She remembered when she first saw his eyes. They were mesmerising. Deep swirling pools of sliver and grey with a spark of mischief. By the time he had reached the tender age of eight, the spark had been diminished, replaced by only sorrow and longing. She presumed her Aunt had taught him the 'lessons' of being a proper pureblood heir.
Her and her sisters would often stay at the Black home, Grimmauld Place, and over the years it wasn't too hard to spot the changes. When you first walked in, all you'd be greeted with was a narrow, long, dark hallway which seemed almost forbidding, but before, when his parents had still 'loved' him, candles had scattered the walls along with many portraits, albeit most of them containing dark and questionable subjects. But it had seemed so much more like a home. During her visits in the middle of her childhood, and the start of his, they would all sit in tapestry room, drinking the finest drinks and receiving eloquent presents, he would always been the centre of it all, but then, after the change, her Aunt would just sit moodily in the corner whilst Uncle Orion entertained his youngest son, their eldest nowhere in sight.
Then, she left for Hogwarts, leaving him in the house that would soon become the subject of his nightmares. Everytime she returned, he'd been a different boy, a little bit darker, but not in the way her family approved of; a little bit more rebellious. And then finally, he would be coming to Hogwarts. The place she secretly loved more than home. As his names was called, she had to work so hard to keep her mask in place, not needing or wanting anyone to see the anticipation or pride she has currently glowing with.
He'd join her once more, her little baby cousin, and she could guide him, heal him and of course, teach him. Her daydreams were shattered by a single word.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Mutterings and whispers had started all around the Great Hall. A Black, in Gryffindor no less? The idea was laughable, not that any of the Slytherins would outwardly laugh at it, the mask was there for a reason. But as she watched her dearly beloved baby cousin, her dear Sirius, she couldn't help but note the forever absent spark had once again returned to his still magnificent eyes. She watched as he made his way over to the Gryffindor table, being pulled into a one armed 'manly' hug, by a Weasley of all people, not being able to keep the sneer of her face. A Weasley, really? When had her wonderful baby cousin lowered himself to that standard? At that point, a part of her heart broke. Her gaze flickered to Lucius Malfoy. And so began her decent into darkness.