Yes, Bella is quite adept at verbal persecution.

One would think I’d have gotten used to it at the very least, if not equally adept at reflecting her blows, but I never have. At the very moment when I feel comfortable, when I finally believe that she might actually be civil, that is the moment in which she strikes the hardest.

It started when we were children. She was the eldest sister, and therefore believed herself superior to the rest of us. Of course, our mother and father did everything to encourage this attitude, believing that she would go on to do great things someday. Oh yes, dear little Bellatrix could do no wrong. The lies she told were not considered lies, but simply enhancements of the truth. The mistakes she made were not mistakes, but merely ways of showing her innovative nature and creativity.

Is it really any wonder that Andromeda and I turned out as we did? Opposites in nearly every respect, but still undeniably molded by the actions of our family. Andromeda did what few in our inner circle dared to do: she ran off with a Muggle and lived happily ever after. It makes me nauseated just to think of it. And I? I did what was expected of me, of course. I always did what was expected of me.

I sacrificed everything to be what they wanted me to be, just so I could have a small piece of their empty admiration.

No, I’m not bitter. My heart cannot accommodate bitterness. My heart is broken, shattered beyond any hope of repair. A heart like mine cannot contain any strong feelings such as bitterness or malice, not even toward my sisters. Those feelings would never be found among the debris.

I could tell you all about the day that my heart met its demise, but a tale such as that would make no sense unless I told you how its first tiny crack came into being. It was that crack that began what would soon become a ravine as deep as any on Earth.

~~~~~

“Narcissa, I have news.”

I looked up from my book and saw my father standing in front of me, his face an expressionless mask, his eyes telling me nothing. I slowly placed a ribbon in the book to mark my page and set it aside. “Yes, Father.” Always respectful, always obedient.

“The arrangements have been made, Narcissa. You are to be married.”

My father always believed in arriving at the point of a conversation as quickly as possible, so his words should not have shocked me as they did, but I was caught completely off guard. The fact that I was only just thirteen and not nearly ready for marriage did cross my mind, but I did not dare speak the words aloud. All I could say was, “When?”

My father gave me a sharp look and I thought for a moment that he would reprimand me for having the audacity to question him, but he merely glared at me and said, “On your eighteenth birthday.”

Sweet relief poured through me at the realization that I still had five years before being tied down as a common housewife, but my father’s next words ripped my comfort away before I had even begun to grasp at it.

“Young Master Malfoy will, of course, wait for you to complete your schooling. No man wants an uneducated cow for a wife.”

“M-Malfoy?” I gasped. “Lucius Malfoy?”

“Of course Lucius Malfoy,” he snapped. “Don’t be such an idiot.”

“But…” I could barely form a coherent thought in the face of the horror that now gripped me. “But, Father, he...”

“He is a pureblood from an extremely wealthy family, which is more than you deserve.” Father looked down at me coldly. “You’re nowhere near as beautiful as your sister, but the Malfoys have agreed to take you sight unseen.”

His words were truth, but they hurt nonetheless. Thirteen was an awful age for anyone, but I was particularly ugly and awkward. It crossed my mind that it was a good thing that the Malfoys had agreed to the match without seeing me first – but would they back out when they eventually did see me? I didn’t have time to sort out my confused mix of emotions; my father was talking again.

“You will carry on with your education at Hogwarts and nothing will stand in the way of you making this match. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway, as it was clearly what he expected. “Yes, Father.”

He left the room without so much as a backward glance. The sound of the closing door set free the tears in my eyes.

“Good gods, Cissy, what are you weeping about this time?” Bellatrix’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turned to see her glaring at me contemptuously. “It’s not as though the world is ending.”

Oh, but it is, Bella. It is. “Father says I’m to be married.” The words sounded strange coming from my own lips.

She raised an eyebrow. “So? You’ve always known he would choose your husband. How can you be shocked by this?”

“But Bella… Bella, I’m to marry Lucius Malfoy.” I felt choked just saying the name.

Her eyebrow slid back down into place. “It’s a good match, Narcissa. You’d do well not to do anything stupid so as to ruin it.”

I frowned. “Father said the same thing… But what on Earth could I do to ruin it? The Malfoy’s have already agreed to the match, ‘sight unseen’ as Father said.”

She sighed, a sure sign of her exasperation with my stupidity. “Honestly, Cissy, are you completely daft?” Apparently my confused expression convinced her that I was indeed daft, because she rolled her eyes before fixing me with a harsh glare. “I’ll spell it out for you: during the next five years, don’t look at, speak to, or do anything with any boy other than Lucius Malfoy.”

It took a moment for the full impact of her words to hit me, but hit me they did – and hard. “But… I… Bella!”

“If you ruin this match, Narcissa,” my sister said coldly before turning her back on me, “you ruin your entire life.”

Andromeda held me while I cried.

~~~~~

It was nearly impossible to forget Bellatrix’s words. I was terrified to even pass a boy in the school corridors. I surrounded myself with other girls and prayed desperately that no one would approach me, for fear of what would happen if they did. And, of course, there was the sheer terror of running into him. However, I needn’t have worried. Lucius Malfoy avoided me as much as I avoided him. Perhaps he didn’t want anyone to know about our betrothal – I certainly didn’t – but whatever the reason, I only ever saw him in passing, and he never so much as looked my way.

The next two years were the loneliest I’d ever been. I ended up alienating all of my friends, both male and female, and spent most of my time in the library, where no one ever bothered me.

Until that day.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re sitting at my table.”

Annoyed, I answered without looking at my accuser, determinedly keeping my eyes on my textbook. “Unless it has your name on it,” I snapped, “it’s no more yours than mine, so go away and leave me alone.”

A derisive snort met my ears. “Opinions are disgusting in a woman. You really should work on that.”

I had my wand out and was on my feet before he could blink. “Severus Snape, you are this close to having that enormous nose hexed off your ugly face.”

There was a long pause. I couldn’t tell if his expression was one of admiration or of scorn, but after a moment he merely said, “The table is yours,” picked up his books, and walked away.

The next day’s encounter was the same. This time he was blatantly mocking me with a condescending smirk he so obviously practiced in front of his mirror – how else could he manage to impose his superiority on others with only a look? I threatened him with permanent incapacitation if he didn’t leave me alone, and he walked away just like the time before.

It happened again and again. By the fifth day he had been reduced from a thorn in my flesh to a mere annoyance, and by the end of a fortnight he had become something of a routine.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re sitting at my table.”

“Unless it has your name on it, it’s no more yours than mine, so go away and leave me alone.”

His insults varied, however, as did my death threats. Empty threats, of course, but I had to match him step for step in this odd dance of ours. I refused to be outwitted by someone as greasy as Severus Snape. I will even admit that I lost many hours of sleep while trying to think of clever retorts to throw at him when we met again. We always met again.

It was always the same, and yet it was always different. A different tone of voice, a different look… and then, everything.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re sitting at my table.”

“Unless it has your name on it, it’s no more yours than mine, so go away and leave me alone.”

“I’d rather stay.”

I looked up at him, taken aback by the urgency in his voice. I couldn’t think of anything to say in response; I merely stared at him stupidly.

His black eyes held mine as he spoke. “Narcissa, I must ask you something.”

Understanding came swiftly. I hastily pushed back my chair and stood to face him, my regret surely showing on my face. “Severus, no. I can’t… You know I’m–”

He silenced me with his lips upon mine.

~~~~~

I didn’t tell anyone; how could I? I knew exactly what they would say. Andromeda would tell me to follow my heart – she was always coming up with naïve advice of that sort – and Bellatrix would rant and rave until I cowered in fear and finally gave in.

No, I didn’t tell. There was no point. I kept it all inside. I keep our secret still.

I say “our” because I know that Severus told no one about our meetings either. He understood. In the light face of my betrothal, our love was wrong, dirty, ruinous. But I could never think of it that way, no matter what my family would say. I loved him, and it was beautiful.

We met in secret for two years. We were young, impulsive, and madly in love. When I was with him, I could not bring myself to care what anyone would think; I wanted to tell the world. But he was the level-headedness to my impetuosity.

“We can’t run off together, Narcissa. We’re only sixteen.”

“You know what your family would do. I can’t let you risk that for me.”

“If we tell them, they’ll never let us see each other again.”

Each reason was sound. Each reason broke my heart. But I listened. I listened to him because I loved him and I knew that I had to enjoy what time we had, for it would surely not last. I could not bear to end it before its time.

~~~~~

“She’s horribly thin, but I suppose she’ll do. As long as she can produce an heir within the year, of course.”

My future mother-in-law spoke as though I was not, indeed, standing two feet in front of her. Her voice was cold and condescending and her eyes appraised me like a calf at auction. It was humiliating, but not as humiliating as the look her son gave me.

Lucius Malfoy was an exceptionally handsome young man – even in my state of near panic I could not deny it – but his eyes were just like his mother’s, a cold, stone-like gray that seemed to regard me as nothing more than a trophy to be acquired. I doubt I would have noticed them if the memory of a pair of black eyes was not always in the front of my mind.

My father smiled graciously at the Malfoys, his temper curbed for the time being. “She will give Master Malfoy an heir within a year or we will consider the marriage annulled.”

Somehow I managed to conceal my racing thoughts as my father shook hands with the matriarch of the Malfoy family. Annulled? Did that mean there was a way out of this horrifying arrangement? I refused to allow myself to think on it any longer, knowing that if an annulment was in my future, disownment and social shunning were a certainty.

I didn’t know if hope was worth the fight.

~~~~~

He sat there watching the proceedings as though his heart was suffering none of the agony that mine was. My wedding day, supposedly the happiest day of my life, was a day of pure torture. How could he, the man who had only months ago professed his undying love, be so casual an observer when the very words I was speaking were ripping out my soul?

“I, Narcissa Black, take you, Lucius Malfoy…”

How could I be such a casual participant? Did no one hear me screaming? Did no one sense my anguish?

No. I was the quintessential bride, beautiful and peaceful, the object of many an admiring glance.

I love you, Severus. I love you, and I’m sorry.

It was my own personal hell; no one was willing to share it with me.

Not even him.

~~~~~

Things were never the same after that. Now it was “Good day, Mrs. Malfoy,” and “Good evening, Mr. Snape.” Always polite, always distant, never allowing ourselves even a small remembrance of what once had been. I could not afford to let my guard slip, not even for a moment. I could not afford to release the words that I so desperately wanted to say.

My resolve only weakened once.

It had only been a few months since I’d married Lucius, and we’d been invited to an evening gathering hosted by one of Lucius’s high-brow acquaintances. I was prepared to do my best acting that night. I would pretend that I was blissfully happy. I would pretend that my heart wasn’t bleeding within me.

I was prepared until his black eyes met mine.

Somehow I managed to pull him into a side room without anyone noticing and pressed my lips to his, silently begging him to love me like he once had.

“Narcissa,” he breathed. “We… we can’t do this.”

I reached out a hand, desperate to touch his face, needing so much just to feel his skin against my fingers. He stepped back and I could see him closing himself off from me. “Please, Severus.” I hated the pleading in my voice. “Please. I need you.”

He shook his head. “No, Narcissa. You’re married. Lucius is… he’ll take care of you.”

I couldn’t stop the tears that ran down my cheeks. “No he won’t, Severus, don’t you see? He doesn’t love me.” The words escaped on a sob before I could stop them. “He hates me.”

“Nonsense. He–”

“He’s told me so.”

I’d surprised him, I could tell, but he schooled his features as I’d seen him do so many times before. “He’s your husband, Narcissa. He’s the one you chose.”

His emotionless eyes could not conceal the bitterness of his words. I stepped back, stung. “I was not the one who chose anything, Severus. My husband was chosen for me. My entire life has been chosen for me.”

“You did nothing to stop it.”

“Neither did you!” I retorted, my temper rising. “Not once did you let me even entertain the thought of marrying you instead of Lucius! You cut off my dreams at every turn! ‘We’re too young, Narcissa! What would your parents say, Narcissa?’ And you… you stood there, watching me marry a man who hates me! You didn’t even have the courage to fight for me! You’re a coward, Severus Snape, and I hate you!” I was too blinded by my own tears to run away. I could only collapse onto the nearest chair and sob like a child without its mother.

“I did it for you, Narcissa.”

His words were quietly spoken, but they pierced my heart like a dagger. I looked up at him, unable to see anything through my tears. “If you did it for me, why am I the one suffering?”

His hand was suddenly wrapped around mine, bringing me no comfort for the first time that I could recall. “I had nothing to give you. I still have nothing. I do not deserve you, Narcissa.”

“But I loved you.” My words sounded childish even to my own ears. “I would have given up everything for you, Severus.”

“I know,” he rasped, “but I couldn’t let you do it.” He pulled his hand away and I could hear his footsteps moving toward the door before he said his final words. “Forgive me, Narcissa.” And then he was gone.

No one held me while I cried.

~~~~~

I gave Lucius an heir within the year. My beautiful son was all I had left; I gave him all of the love I’d never had from my own mother, all of the love I knew he would not receive from his father. Only one person had ever loved me, and I had lost that love forever. I would not let that happen to my son.

I underestimated Lucius’s hatred of me. He stole my son away from me. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally. Draco lived to please his father. He wanted nothing more than to follow in Lucius’s footsteps. I, his own mother, the one who had loved him unconditionally since the day he was born, was merely a nuisance.

There was nothing I could do to save him in the end. The Dark Lord does not allow failure. My son’s determination to be just like his father was the very thing that destroyed him. It destroyed both of them.

It destroyed Severus as well.

No, that is not entirely true. I must share the blame in that respect. I asked Severus to do the unthinkable, to save my child at the cost of his own life. He did it because it was I who asked him. I know it was.

I have nothing now. Nothing of value, nothing worth the effort of waking up in the morning. My beloved son is dead. My husband, who even amidst his cruelty had his moments of kindness toward me, is also dead. And the one man whom I loved more than anyone else in the world is dead because of a foolish vow, a vow that I forced him to make.

I wish I could blame it all on Bellatrix, on her role in my life. I wish I could blame it on my mother and father for forcing me to marry Lucius. I even wish I could blame it on Severus and his stupid determination to save me from myself. But I know that my life is of my own making. My choices made me who I am today.

Forgive me, Severus.

Perhaps I am bitter after all.

FIN