Prompt: 97. Writer's Choice
Word Count: 874
Summary: Everyone thinks they know who I am. Narcissa Malfoy, mother of Draco, wife of Lucius, pureblood extraordinaire. But no one really knows the truth; no one knows who I really am. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t really know either.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Notes: The chapter index can be found here.
Made by nmpsr_14 @ TDA
My name is Narcissa. It comes from the word ‘narcissus’ which means conceit. To call someone narcissistic means that you believe they have an unnaturally strong love for themselves and only themselves; they’re selfish and undesirable and it’s also a warning against turning into Narcissus himself. Don’t know who Narcissus is?
In Greece there’s a legend of a man named Narcissus. They say that Narcissus was the most beautiful man in the world and that all the women in the world desired him but he kept rejecting each of them. One of his admirers was an imp named Echo. She adored Narcissus so much that she would follow him wherever he went. As time went on Narcissus continued to spurn the advances of all women who tried to gain his favor including Echo herself but that didn’t change how much she adored him nor that she would follow him.
One day Narcissus came upon a river and he gazed upon his reflection. Once he saw himself in the river he fell instantly in love with his own reflection but when he found he would never be able to hold his love he opted to remain on the riverside gazing upon his reflection. So there he stayed, day after day, gazing at the love he could never hold until he withered away into nothingness and left in his wake was the narcissus flower. And Echo who had watched him was so heartbroken at the loss of her love that she withered away into nothing but the repetition of a man’s last words.
Narcissa is a warning and a curse; it’s how my parents decided I would be special, above others because of my pure blood. They had named my sisters after stars and had named me after a flower used to represent a man who had died because he loved no one more than himself. Our parents had given us names like that simply because they expected great things or at least what you would call great for pureblooded women. They expected us to grow up and marry another pureblood and have pureblood children and continue the family line and tradition. They had gotten their wish twice and their hopes dashed with their third darling girl but my sister’s story is not my own; my sister’s life is not mine.
Some of you know who I am; some of you think you know who I am and what you know isn’t necessarily untrue. My husband is most definitely Lucius Malfoy; my husband was most definitely a Death Eater as was my older sister, Bellatrix. Yes, my other sister Andromeda was disowned because she married a muggle born; my son had been chosen to kill Albus Dumbledore. My cousin Sirius was disowned for his relationship with muggles and was falsely imprisoned for killing two of his best friends. My son is Draco; my son received the Dark Mark himself and my house became the headquarters for the Death Eaters for a while during the final battle and yes, I was raised to believe that purebloods were better than muggles. All of those things are true and I would never deny any of those things for even a moment but that isn’t all there is to know; my story isn’t merely that simple.
I want to say that I love my husband and I love my son. Draco is the most important thing in the world to me. but my life wasn’t always that simple and at first I didn’t know if I wanted the life my parents wanted me to have. I played the good daughter; I followed their whims and abided by their wishes. I married a good pureblooded wizard and played the loyal wife but that was simple and that was just what I let the whole world see. But inside I was conflicted and inside I wasn’t satisfied with the world that was lying before me, the destiny I would have to live out which would be exactly like my own mother’s.
Draco might not want to know the truth and for that I apologize but there is only so long you can keep things a secret before your very being screams for you to release the truth for the world to see. Many people won’t like what I say; maybe people won’t believe it either but that isn’t my biggest concern. Because while I would become the perfect example of pureblooded mentality, a loyal wife and mother that wasn’t who I always was. Who I was back then was more of a disappointment to my family I’m afraid.
I have been many things. I have been perfect; I have been a disgrace. I have been helpful; I have been destructive. I have been loyal; I have been dishonest. I have been betrayed and I have betrayed. I have been happy; I have been sorrowful. I have been broken and rebuilt; I have been deceiver and deceived.
I have had secrets.
I have been a secret.
Who I was…well, I was a wicked contradiction.