never were such devoted sisters [NARCISSA]

For the first time since before their father's funeral, Cissa allowed an actual grin slip through her well-built facade. She was not in a gaming mood tonight, but sometimes all that was needed to make one feel better was family. She was grateful for her family, especially both of her sisters, despite how different they each were. Bellatrix was a driven woman, always looking for a way to get a leg up in this world despite what the consequences might be. Cissa often admired how easily Bells could take or leave people based on how well it benefited her own plans. There was Andromeda, so pristine, so collected. She had always been an inspiration to Cissa because of how calm and gathered she seemed to be. What Cissa used as a mask or decoy to keep her emotions hidden from the masses, Dromeda had always seemed to envelop into her life and make it true. Then there was Narcissa herself, the baby of the family. Treated like a princess from their parents, kept away from hardship, protected from any sort of event that could possibly bring undo stress into her life. She was sheltered, though her parents would never know how far she stretched those boundaries to experience the world around her. She wondered if even her sisters were aware of the semi-secretive life she led. The perception, however, was that she was delicate and fragile, and so she would be to those around her.

Being delicate and fragile, while it does have many perks, also has the downfall of people constantly worrying and fussing. Whenever possible during their father's funeral, their mother would pull herself away from her own mourning and whatever bottle happened to be on hand, and throw herself all over Cissa as if she were a child. Even Bells had made a fuss about her not eating nor leaving her room. She'd even gone so far as to threaten Cissa with force if she did not get ready for the event on her own. To most, those actions did not seem like caring, but the Black sisters knew better. It was when Bellatrix did not offer a choice that she did not care. Narcissa had simply been smothered.

It was the same when they returned to Hogwarts. Her friends were constantly fawning over her, offering condolences and wondering what they could do to help her. The handful of boys around the school who seemed infatuated with her continued to offer their shoulders to cry on, and a few of the smarter ones had offered to do any and all homework for her. Sadly, being known as the grieving girl soon loses its appeal and the title becomes nothing more than an annoyance. Narcissa knew better than to snap, especially with the watchful eyes of her sisters upon her. She had to remain diplomatic, serene, and above all the kind Narcissa Black the student body knew her to be. There would be time enough in her future for her to express herself however she wanted. For now, she would play by the rules of the high society's elite.

"Very true, dear sister, very true. Our lives are one giant game, but instead of being the players, we're pieces on a board. How droll. It was a sobering observation. Neither of them had any control over where they were heading, who they were to marry, or the lives they would lead. Their betrothals were meticulously matched with the given outcome of rebuilding their family fortune and perhaps erasing some of the shame their father had brought about.

Narcissa had never felt shame for her father before. In truth, however, she had never known how much he had done to destroy their family name. She was always kept in the dark, and he had always treated her like a princess. Cissa hadn't even been aware of the abuse he had bestowed upon Bellatrix. It wasn't that she despised the man more than she despised herself. There were tender, happy memories there that she felt guilty for remembering. She felt guilty whenever she mourned his passing, even more so after she was given knowledge of how he treated her sisters. What she really couldn't understand was how her sisters could still care about her nor how their resentment could not cause them to condemn her. Narcissa simply hated herself at this moment in her life, and could not see how her sisters did not. Do you think Father loved us?" She asked abruptly, her voice cracking just a little. Cissa's gaze returned to the flames and she stared into the fireplace desperately, He treated us all so differently, almost purposefully so. Do you think it was a game to him, his family?"