Narcissa Black sat on the edge of her bed. Smooth white silk sheets were quite slippery against her dress, causing it to crinkle a little bit. She, however, didn't seem to notice it. Her hair was tied into an intricate chignon and she had a light dusting of makeup on her face, a very expensive-looking pearl necklace tied itself around her pale neck. Her chest was rising and falling in a rather unusual way and she wiped her sweaty palms on the fabric of her figure-fitting sapphire blue dress. Her face was twisted and her eyes didn't gleam with pride.
She wasn't Narcissa Black at the time, in her room.
In her room, she was just another young woman about to embrace her inevitable fate.
Her mother, Druella Black, cared nothing about her being sent off to a wealthy pureblood house. Heck, rich pureblood witches were of course used as a way to bond two powerful houses, to create harmony and to demand respect in the wizarding society.
It was especially important for her to marry a "respectable" pureblood wizard after her sister Andromeda ran off to marry a muggle-born. A filthy mudblood! How could she possibly think of a thing like that?
"Thank you, sister!" she grumbled under her breath. She stood straight up and walked towards the huge, handsomely curtained windows on the other side of her room.
It was all up her her now, to restore her family's glory, or it could be considered that the Black family were blood traitors. She had to do it, for her family.
She had to be betrothed to none other than the Malfoy heir himself.
She had to be betrothed to Lucius Malfoy.
How could it possibly go wrong? Narcissa Black was going to be traded in return for her family's honour. She was going to be Narcissa Malfoy.
A trembling sigh left her thin lips. She was going to marry a man she never loved.
She had read in many romance novels about how beautiful and special a wedding could be, how happy the bride was to marry the love of her life and how the groom was over the moon. But hers won't be as such, it would be nothing more than a silly contract between two powerful houses.
She sat beside the window her hands hugging her folded legs. The clear glass gave her a view of the outside. It was the driest time of the year and the trees had lost most of their leaves. It was as if the weather had also embodied how she was feeling.
She let go of the emotions she was concealing, she didn't care if her makeup was going to be messed up or her dress was crumpled with her "improper" posture. She just didn't care about anything right now. Tears stained her porcelain-esque cheeks and she felt her eyebrows scrunch. Her chest was feeling as if it was being twisted. As if it was being released from deep agony, and her throat had gone dry. She was quite amused at this feeling. She wasn't actually used to crying. The last time she cried was when she was around 12.
Why couldn't she just be a normal half-blood? Living her own life. Having a loving husband and happy children. Why was the world so cruel?
She sat there, hopeless, cursing her life and for a mere moment, she thought of marrying a muggle-born rather than someone she didn't know.
Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. She froze.
Nobody had to see her in this state! Who dared to enter her room without permission?
She turned in a split second, downturned lips turned into a scowl, eyes which were about to pool dried their tears and were showing steely cold fury.
"So sorry to trouble you Lady Narcissa, but Mistress Druella is asking for your presence immediately in the guest room," squeaked a very leathery-looking elf.
"HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY ROOM WITHOUT ASKING PERMISSION? LET FATHER HEAR ABOUT THIS AND YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED!" Narcissa thundered, slapping the helpless elf in front of her.
"Get lost from my sight before I usher you with more of my anger," she said in a slow shrill cold voice, turning away.
After she her the door click shut, she scrambled to her best pair of shoes and slid them on. This was the moment she was dreading. She was going to be presented to the Malfoys.
She zoomed towards the door and flung it open. She knew her mother was probably going to yell at her later for the way her dress was crumpled and how her cheeks were stained with salty tears. But if she arrived late. Good heavens!
The guest room was looking splendid. A huge crystalline chandelier hung from above and the Dutch-arched fireplace gave the room a bit more of that sophisticated look.
As she slowly walked to her seat, in the most lady-like way she could, she felt a burn of guilt. How could she lower herself to someone she felt like before? Especially on this important day. How could she have cried?
After she felt the soft cushion beneath her, she dared herself to look at the guests.
A very pale, stern-looking man sat quite as if the manor belonged to him. Wide and erect, no visible emotion could be traced on his face. This must be Abraxas Malfoy, she thought. However, she didn't spot Mrs Malfoy anywhere. Oh yes! She had died a few years prior for some unknown reason.
As her eyes moved across the room, she saw a very sharp-looking young man. Lucius Malfoy. Platinum locks brushed his broad shoulders and silver-grey eyes stared directly into her sapphire blue ones. He was dressed in the deepest shade of blue and he had the most pointed face she ever saw in her life. She felt her cheeks warm and her hands were sweaty. Of course! She thought to herself. He is part veela.
She knew from experience that the Malfoy men were well sought after. Besides, who would not want to have a husband with undeniable charm and who was breathtakingly handsome?
As her father parted his lips to speak, she knew all her nightmares were coming to be a reality.