Chapter Fifteen

A/N: No reviewers.

Narcissa strolled the corridors with a spring in her step. She held no excitement for her next lesson, History of Magic with a professor who had taught long past his own death date, but only happiness in her new-found identity. She was Narcissa Black now, with two sisters of her own to protect her, and cousins as well. She no longer had to hide beneath the cloak of a false name- no matter how much the cloak had meant to her.

Ever since she had discovered her new name, she had tried not to think of the life she had led under the old one. After all, it had not been a bad life, and she had enjoyed living at Hogwarts and the company she kept here. But she did not think of it all the same, for she was Narcissa Black now and anyone else she had been did not matter in the slightest.

Recently, Narcissa had spent as much time as possible with her sisters, even moving across to eat at the Slytherin table during mealtimes. She received many stern glances from the teachers above her, but her sisters glared at them until they looked away. After a while, Narcissa began to do the same, wanting desperately to fit in with the girls, even if she knew in her heart that to do so was wrong.

The approval of her sisters, however, was not worth the pain of the look on Professor McGonagall's face, to see such behaviour from the girl she had raised as her own. The child was trying to rebel, she knew that much, but it still hurt to see her become one of the horrific Slytherin bullies her family had always produced. 'I always hoped she was better than that, that I had raised her better.' the woman thought, feeling melancholy spread through her veins. 'It looks as if I was wrong.'

But of course, this was not the child she had raised. The girl she had brought up as her own daughter, Anastasia Selwyn, had never truly existed. All those years, she had denied the girl her identity and her family, in the hope that she might turn out to be a better person than they were. Now, she seemed more likely than ever to journey down the path of darkness, as she sprinted down it in pursuit of her sisters and cousins. 'Perhaps I should have told her the truth.' Minerva thought, as she had done many a time in years gone by. 'Perhaps then she would not have become like this. Perhaps, in being selfish enough to keep her for myself, I've pushed her further away than ever.'

Minerva shook her head to clear it and turned her mind to the tasks of the day. She did not have a class to teach for another couple of hours after breakfast and so had planned to take a walk in the grounds. At least there, alone with only the cold Scottish mists for company, she would have more of a chance of forgetting about Annie. Merlin knew, she needed as much help as she could get.

She was up somewhere near the owlery when the sounds of shouts and cries of pain reached her ears. On instinct, Minerva moved toward the sound and was shocked at the sight that greeted her.

There, stood in a large circle, was a group of Slytherins, some older in their final year and some young enough to be only in the second or third, but all wore the same expression of disgust on their faces. It was bizarre to see such hatred in the eyes of children so young, but Minerva found that if she could believe it of any group, it was the Pureblood supremists of Slytherin House.

Then she saw the blonde child stood between two wild-haired older girls and felt her heart sink in her chest.

Little Annie- Narcissa now- had clearly been coerced by her two sisters, who she stood between, to participate in this hateful ritual. The girl Minerva had raised would never do such a thing; she knew better than to be so spiteful. 'How much she has changed in so little time.' the woman reminisced, as she approached the group.

The first one to notice her was Narcissa herself. Although she had been repeating the necessary words along with the others, her eyes had been downcast, as if she could not bear to look upon the face of the person they were condemning.

As she came even closer to the distasteful ritual, more of the students noticed her approach and turned from their subject, glaring at the Head of Gryffindor House with an intensity that ought to have set her robes alight.

"This doesn't concern you, Professor." spat Bellatrix, the corner of her lip curling with distaste. Andromeda made an attempt to copy her gesture, but Narcissa seemed to occupied with staring at the frosted morning grass, unwilling to meet the eye of the woman who had cared for her for so long.

"Actually, I believe that any situation in which a pupil is being victimised on the school grounds is my concern, Miss Black." McGonagall shot back, her voice equally as venomous.

"Not when it comes to family honour." Bellatrix continued, seemingly nonchalant and unfazed by the woman's interference. "A half-blood Gryffindor has no dominion over the ancient Pureblood rites. Not even a professor."

Minerva opened her mouth to argue further, but caught sight of the look in Narcissa's eyes. The girl seemed to be silently pleading with her, to leave them in peace. The woman looked guiltily for a moment towards the boy lying in the centre of the circle, but she could not bear the weight of Narcissa's wistful stare.

So, with a sharp inclination of her head towards Bellatrix and her sisters, with a lingering glance towards the youngest of the three, Minerva turned on her heel and returned to the castle.

A/N: Please review!