Narcissa couldn't explain the complexities of her familial ties. To uncover the filth and slime of her life, even for a moment, was unthinkable. When something out of order or unheard of occured in the Black family, it was swept under the rug as surely as if it were a layer of unwanted dust. She wished her emotions would disappear as easily. Of course, those problems that nobody mentioned (father's alcoholism, mother's suicidal thoughts, Bella's insanity, Andromeda's misplaced loyalties) never truly disappeared. But with effort, Narcissa could pretend that they weren't there. With effort, Narcissa could pretend that her emotions weren't there either, but every once in a while, she remembered that they were.

Signing her name pensively across the bottom of her letter, she rolled up the parchment and sealed it neatly with an adhesive emblem, staring at it blankly for a moment. This was her job, to obey and to perform like nothing was wrong. Druella expected it. There was a heartless method to her mother's madness, and a heartless method to Narcissa's as well. These issues of marriage, and wealth, and happiness had nothing to do with the heart, only with responsibility and cold politeness. And Narcissa was very responsible in the way she responded so promptly, and very cold in her politely chosen words. "Blacks are an honorable breed, dearest mother, and I will always uphold the Black family honor. With careful perusal of your latest letter, it is with some confusion that I understand your request of me. As you mentioned, mother, I have already made a commitment to the Malfoy family. It would be dishonorable and strange for me to break my engagement to Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and as I have pledged, I could never willingly bring dishonor to the Black name."

There was a danger in the bluntness of her refusal, but Narcissa stood up and strode to the coat rack anyway, plucking her dark green scarf off of one of the arms. Wrapping it about her anemic neck, the scroll disappeared into one of her woolly cloak pockets, and Narcissa slipped through the common room portal, making her lonesome way out of the dungeons. As she walked, her half inch heels tapped expensively against the unwashed stone, counting out the rythym of her long stride. She moved with all of the uptight dogmatism expected of a pureblood, lifting her nose high into the air even though there was no one there to observe her apparent disapproval, and in the palm of her hand, crushed tightly by her iron-hard grip, was the scroll. Her clenched fist hid with the letter inside of her pocket, and as she cleared the dungeons to make her quick way through the Great Hall, nobody would have guessed that she was unsettled.

The letter would not go over well with her mother or father. In the back of her mind, Narcissa hazarded a guess that it wouldn't go over well with her prospective suitor's family, either. Why did Druella insist upon dangling Narcissa before the nose of every wealthy pureblood like a hank of meat? Didn't she have two other daughters to barter with as well? Bellatrix had already taken an interest in Rodolphus, of course, but what of Andromeda? For the first time, Narcissa felt hatred for the middle Black sister. Andy knew that Druella would mercilessly force them to marry as soon as they were of age. How dare she leave Narcissa to suffer the brunt of their mother's aggression alone? Andromeda was a disloyal coward for doing this to her. A real sister wouldn't have abandoned Narcissa to fend for herself, especially since Narcissa had proven to be helpless in the face of Druella's demands. Andromeda might have been willing to risk losing the acknowledgemment of their parents, but Narcissa wasn't. Losing the right to acknowledge Andy was the last thing that Narcissa was willing to do.

Reaching the bottom of the owlery tower, Narcissa paused to rest, gasping for breath. She hadn't realized it, but in her frustration, she'd practically slipped into a dry jog. Certainly she'd arrived at her destination a lot more promptly than she'd anticipated. How fast had her heart been pumping, to lengthen her stride to that degree? Tightening her scarf, Narcissa took the stairs one at a time, deliberately moving slowly to avoid appplying more stress to her sore calves. From the dungeons to the owlery, Narcissa had mounted an ungodly amount of stairs, and her legs were aching. Reaching the top with her blue eyes closed, Narcissa removed the pulverized scroll from her pocket, lifting her gaze from the floor to her hand. She did not immediately notice Chloe, continuing to stare down at the ruined letter, and she sighed. Lifting her gaze morosely upwards, she recieved such a shock at the sight of her dorm mate that she started, inhaling sharply through her nose.

"Merlin! Chloe, you startled me."

Guiltily trying to regain her composure, Narcissa's tired calf muscles shuddered, and she weakly fluttered her lashes as her cheeks flushed.

"What are you doing here?"