Narcissa Black was, in every aspect of her physical appearance, an angel. She had long, golden locks and beautiful eyes that were, on the surface, of a sparkling sapphire blue. Every women who passed by her on the street envied her and every man wished they could take her home with them. On the outside, Narcissa was perfect. But, as with everyone and everything, there is no such thing as perfection. If you looked deeper into her eyes, you would find a different story...
She loved him like he was
The last man on the earth
Gave him everything she ever had
She met Lucius in their 6th year at Hogwarts. They were in the same potions class and one day, they were paired up for a class assignment. After a few minutes, he smoothly broke the silence by asking her about her family. From then on, they became close friends. Every moment she spent with him, and every laugh she shared with him. He was charming, handsome, witty, and sweet. Lucius was the boy every girl in Slytherin lusted after, and Narcissa was an equal object of affection in the eyes of the boys.
When she started falling in love with him, she was worried that it would end their friendship. To her delight, however, she found out in their 7th year that he loved her as well. On a cold October night, he asked her to be his girlfriend and she ecstatically accepted. That night, Narcissa believed she had found everything she could ever want.
Lucius barely waited a week after their graduation to propose to her. Narcissa, equally eager to jump into an engagement with her true love, accepted immediately. They were married a month later in the Hogwarts Great Hall. Dumbledore was the one who did the deed, and before the two newlyweds left to spend their honeymoon in Bulgeria, he wished Narcissa the best of luck with their marriage.
"My two cleverest students married... Oh, how I've longed to see this day," he said with a twinkle in his eye just as they were leaving. Narcissa smiled and thanked him gratefully.
In the years that followed, Narcissa's love for Lucius only intensified. She was so blinded by her increasing affection that she didn't notice the gradual descent of his. Yet even though he began to go out every night, returning at the break of dawn, she still waited faithfully for him to return from work during the day. He spent at most 10 minutes in their huge residence before leaving again, but she treasured those 10 minutes more than anything. He was like a god to her: she worshipped the ground he walked on, and was willing to go to the end of the world to bring back a pebble if he asked her to.
He'd break her spirit down
Then come loving up on her
Give a little, then take it back
Lucius found all of this amusing. The fact that he had such a beautiful woman under his control, one who would do anything for him, was quite appealing to him. He wasn't stupid; he knew he had her wrapped around his finger. The few times he went out with her, he'd use her like an accessory: something pretty to carry around, something for others to envy. After all, there was no real depth to Narcissa. There was nothing more to her than beauty.
Narcissa would often talk to him about her day when he returned home from work. Sometimes, when he'd just experienced a particularly bad day, he'd slap her and tell her to shut up. "I don't want to hear any of your rubbish right now," he'd snarl. No tears escaped Narcissa's eyes; she simply nodded and obediently shut her mouth.
When he left the house again, though, she would go up to their room, collapse onto the bed, and weep into her arms. Why did he do this to her? Was she not enough for him? She didn't know what to do to make him realize her love for him. She did know, however, that if he would only tell her what she was doing incorrectly, she would do whatever it took to fix it.
Despite the nagging voice at the back of her mind that told her something was wrong, Narcissa let Lucius abuse her day by day. Although his cutting words and sharp slaps wore her down both mentally and physically, she stood silently and took it in. "It's only temporary," she would tell herself whenever she was alone. And she was right - when she saw him the next day, he would bring her flowers or chocolates and apologize. He always had an excuse: a bad encounter with the minister, a lost case, or something else along the lines of business. She would always take him back with a small smile and a kiss.
Little did Lucius know that each time he broke her then mended her with sweet words and apologies, Narcissa's seams frayed a little more.
She'd tell him 'bout her dreams
He'd just shoot 'em down
Lord, he loved to make her cry
"You're crazy for believing
you'll ever leave the ground"
He said, "Only angels know how to fly"
Narcissa had always been a dreamer. As a child, she hoped to someday become the next Celestina Warbeck. She wanted to sing, she wanted to act, she wanted to live out all the fantasies that little girls so often have. Her parents encouraged these goals; they knew she had the looks and talent to follow through with them. Whenever she sang at a party or gathering, they would look at each other, smile, and whisper, "Someday we'll be hearing that voice over the radio."
As a mature, married woman, Narcissa knew she would have to give up her hope of becoming a famous performer. At first, it was easy for her. Her love for Lucius easily suppressed all the other parts of her that longed to make an appearance. However, as you know, it's impossible to keep yourself from shining through. Eventually, her dreams began to resurface.
One afternoon, she told Lucius that a well-known wizarding musician was passing through town in an attempt to train any undiscovered talent as an apprentice. She eagerly asked him if she could go, not for a moment doubting that he would say no.
To her shock and disappointment, he firmly told her to stay at home and forget about visiting the musician. Narcissa struggled to keep the tears in, but eventually they began flowing and she shamefully started crying into her hands. "Please, Lucius, this is my dream," she sobbed.
He grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her violently. This only made her cry harder. "Stop that," he growled. "You're crazy for believing in yourself. You know perfectly well that you would be nothing if it wasn't for me."
One Sunday morning
She didn't go to church
He wondered why she didn't leave
He went up the bedroom
Found a note by the window
With the curtains blowing in the breeze
The night of the 3-year anniversary of the day he asked her out arrived. Lucius was sitting in Le Champagne, a favourite restaurant of his, waiting impatiently for Narcissa to arrive. He'd told her shortly earlier that day to meet him there at precisely 9 PM to celebrate. It was now 9:25, and she was still no where to be seen.
Letting out a sigh of anger and frustration, he stood up and stalked out of the restaurant. Once outside, he promptly apparated back to Malfoy Manor to find his wife. The moment he landed in the parlour of their home, he felt a deathly silence pressing in on him from all sides. Trying to shake it off, he walked upstairs to their bedroom.
The door was open a crack. He reached out a hand to push it open all the way, and felt a shiver travel down his spine as he made contact with the serpent-shaped doorknob. His feet seemed rooted to the ground, and a sense of uneasiness washed over him. Shaking his head and telling himself that he was being silly, he shoved the door open and gasped at the sight.
Narcissa lay completely still upon their bed. Her body was limp and one arm hung over the side of the bed. Her wand lay on the ground a few inches away, giving off the impression that it had fallen out of her hand. Lucius slowly approached her body, a dozen thoughts tumbling around in his mind but no emotions surfacing on his face. His eyes moved down from her closed eyes, to her slightly parted lips, to a small, folded note, lying on her chest. He picked it up with stiff fingers and opened it. Written on it were three words:
"I loved him."
At that moment, he felt a gust of wind travel in through the open window. It blew the curtains around wildly and tore the note out of hand. Lucius watched it flutter to the ground in silence. He felt nothing. No regret, no sorrow, no grief. Just the chill of the cold October night, drifting in through the window and wrapping itself around him.
And with a broken wing
She still sings
She keeps an eye on the sky
With a broken wing
She carries her dreams
Man, you oughta see her fly
Narcissa is what you would call a fallen angel. She was beautiful on the outside, but there was more to her than just a pretty face. Behind the mask of physical perfection, there was a completely different, unread story. A story marred by ink splotches and tears, troubled thoughts and shadows.
Throughout her childhood, she was her parents' object of admiration. As she progressed into her teenage years, boys began to notice her. But of all these young men, she chose the one who carelessly broke her, shattered her, bruised her. He left marks that stained her porcelain-like cheeks, but even worse, marks that stained her fragile soul. She had goals that could have carried her into the clouds, a place many young girls could only wish to reach. Lucius tied them down and locked them up.
Now, Narcissa's restraints have faded away. Though her dreams have been torn, she flies free.