narcissa VELA black

[cissy]

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{ A B O U T . Y O U }

Name: Ellie.
Gender: Femme fatale.
Age: Eighteen.
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Years of RPG Experience: A few.
Other: removed by staff. ...Uh. Maybe.

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{ Q U I C K . Q U I Z }

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{ A B O U T . T H E . C H A R A C T E R }

Name: Narcissa Vela Black.
Age: Sixteen.
Gender: Female.
Year: Sixth.
Face Claim: Jessica Stam.

Canon or Original? Canon.

Facial Properties:

Narcissa has never been one of those girls who takes her hair style lightly. In fact, she takes the appearance of her hair rather seriously, insisting on a hot oil treatment at the very least once a week. She only uses the best products when it comes to shampooing and conditioning it, something she does once at night and once in the morning because she absolutely insists on bathing twice a day – not just for the sole reason of keeping her hair nice, mind you, it's just because she has a bit of a nervous breakdown if she doesn't. Appearance is always important, and not just clothes – hair is basically an accessory anyway, and she certainly wouldn't wear the same belt two days in a row, if you know what I mean. With every new outfit there's always different hair, whether it be up, down, straightened, curled, wavy, tousled, hair-sprayed to the point of barely being able to move, braided, in pigtails, in a ponytail, and any other hair style you can imagine. She loves doing her hair, really, and doesn't have difficulty even in the slightest with curling and pinning and all that jazz for the fancier events she has to attend. It's sort of automatic, really, being a Black daughter, she knows how to look good. Of course, there is the occasional event that she backs down and requests someone else to fix her hair – whether it's because she just doesn't feel like it or because she doesn't quite trust herself varies from time to time. She is a bit of a control freak and she doesn't trust her new hairdresser [the other eight she's had in the past two years were terrible anyway] quite yet to ensure she wouldn't completely fuck something up if Cissy told her to do what she'd like, but there's always hope for the future. As for the hair itself? Blonde. When she was born, it was a different story: her hair was a shade of brown, just like her older sisters', but by the age of four, her wavy hair had turned so blonde you wouldn't have even expected her to be related to Bellatrix and Annie. She prefers her hair long, refusing to cut it anywhere above her shoulders. Right now, it falls just underneath her shoulder blades when it's straightened – obviously it's a bit shorter when it's curled. The cut is pretty basic – no complicated layering or any of that. Edgy cuts may suit other people well, but not Narcissa. The simple hair cut is the most versatile, and Cissy needs that versatility for her sanity.

Narcissa was never much of a smiler. ...Wait, lie. She smiles. She smiles a lot, actually – generally more so over the summer. Can you guess why? People to flatter. People to impress with her great sense of humor and charm and wit and ability to understand political puns blah, blah, blah, so yes, Cissy smiles. If she has to. And if she's not trying to impress you, really, she doesn't have to do much of anything to make you feel special, so not that much smiling occurs when she's not at some sort of glammed up social event trying to keep adults intrigued by her. When she does smile – actually smile – it's a lovely sight. She has damn near perfect teeth to boot. When she's smiling you know you've done something to make her truly happy, and unless you're someone she really loves, you probably won't see a sincere smile. Her less sincere smile is common, something she uses when greeting people she knows in the hallways or when complimenting someone for whatever reason. Generally she's got more of a smirk across her face. There's a certain mysteriousness behind her smirk and you never really know what exactly she's thinking – and she prefers it that way, really. Her cupid-bow lips are, more often than not, glazed over with a layer of shiny, clear lipgloss. She does wear lipstick on occasion, generally very red shades, but certainly nothing tacky or overwhelming, and of course, the lipstick must match her outfit.

Narcissa was gifted with one hell of a pair of eyeballs, that's for sure. They have the ability to take people in, seduce them, and give the girl what she wants. They communicate her anger, her passivity, her contentment, and her all-too-rare displays of compassion. With these eyes she observes everything around her, taking in as much information as possible to use to her own advantage. With these eyes she lies, she compliments, she tells nothing but the truth, she lets people in and she keeps people out. She's not the sort of person who's easy to look in the eye; half the time people are too scared or too ashamed for whatever reasons, anyway. And the poor person she's talking to, because regardless of how scared or ashamed they may be, there's something so alluring about her eyes and you want to look at them because they're so beautiful, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. Beautiful they are; almond shaped with long, blonde, curled lashes atop. The irises themselves are rather difficult to describe; navy blue rimmed, sky blue closer to her pupils, flecks of golden here and there, and then right around the pupil, another rim of navy. Her eyes look cold – conveniently enough, a majority of the time, her personality mirrors it. As if the color of her eyes wasn't remarkable enough, Narcissa's eyes are topped by a pair of eyebrows any Hollywood star would envy. Perfectly shaped and thick, Cissy keeps her eyebrows waxed and tamed. The exact same shade as her hair, they curve up on her forehead and gently slope downward, tapering off at the end. As for makeup, one thing you can always count on is mascara. As for the rest – just like her hair – it depends on the outfit. Sometimes all she'll wear is mascara, other days she'll look like she just walked off a haute couture runway. Nothing too tacky, of course, but if the event calls for it? On a regular day-to-day basis, her make-up is simple; no bright colors, no heavy eye-liner. She generally goes with brownish and gold hues to bring out the color in her eyes. She refuses to let anyone else touch her face when it comes to make-up; she's rather talented with cosmetics, really, and she's got quite the make-up collection to prove it. A bit of a cosmetic store junkie, she has enough make-up to last her and all the women of a small third-world country for a good seven years. Maybe eight. But everyone has their vices.

The Blacks have never exactly had an exotic skin tone, so it was no surprise that Cissy was born with ivory pale skin. If you look really close, you can see a very faint spattering of freckles here and there, particularly across the top of her shoulders. Other than small scars on her legs and arms from whatever reason, the only other blemish is a small, heart-shaped birthmark in the pit of her clavicle. She rarely gets zits and acne, thank Merlin, otherwise she wouldn't leave the house. She absolutely abhors acne, especially on her, so, you know, she freaks out a lot more than necessary when she does get a zit. But she keeps her face clean and her pores unclogged and she even uses a facial mask twice a week just for good measure [also because it leaves your face remarkably soft]. She takes the health of her skin very seriously, always moisturizing and drinking glasses of water. She doesn't use makeup that'll do any damage to her skin, and she always uses sunblock when she goes out in the sun, even if it's in the winter because the UV rays are still around. She burns really easily as well during the summer, so she tries to keep pretty covered up when she goes to the beach. Normally she'll tow along a huge umbrella. Although a lot of girls don't like being pale, Cissy really doesn't mind it; she thinks it suits her personality, anyway. Plus, if she got too tan, it would clash terribly with her hair color. Of course, a little healthy color never hurts, but when she goes to the beach or the pool, she goes to have fun and swim; not to lay around and get melanoma for the sake of having golden skin.

Physique:

Deceptively dainty would probably be the best way to describe Narcissa. Yes, she is tiny. Yes, she looks like the sort of girl you could break in half like a toothpick. Yes, she has a measly 23 inch waist. Yes, if you have big hands you could probably them around said waist. But regardless of how waif-like she appears, Narcissa probably isn't who you'd want to compete with in an arm wrestling match, that's for sure. She isn't ripped. Her body doesn't ripple with muscles. She doesn't have a six pack. But after 12 years of ballet and 9 years of gymnastics, she'd probably be able to fend for herself in a physical fight. Not like anyone knows that. She doesn't really flaunt the fact that she has a considerably higher muscle content than people originally expect, nor does she get offended when people refer to her as rail-thin or tiny or anything else along those lines. Yes, she is rail-thin. And yes, she is tiny. She's also quite strong. She doesn't really like the idea of many people being aware of this, so she keeps it under wraps. It's not that hard, I mean, most people think she's just a vicious puffball anyway. A very tiny vicious puffball. And the way she walks only encourages the puffball part of that – you can tell by the way the girl holds herself that she's a ballerina, with the constantly elongated back and the way she moves her legs and positions her feet. And, of course, her nearly overwhelming amount of femininity encourages it even more, since what sort of girly girl would actually be able to bench press more than her own body weight? This vicious puffball can. So you better watch your back.

So, the legs on this girl are certainly a point of interest. As mentioned, she's a gymnast and a ballerina, which are both activities seriously dependent on the ability of your legs. Taking the rest of her body into comparison, her legs are shockingly long, making her look deceivingly tall – something they always admired at the ballet, landing her more than one leading role – when, in reality, she's just about five foot six inches. Not too shabby, of course, but she'll always wish she had a longer torso so she could be closer to five foot nine inches. To compensate, she wears heels constantly – and I'm not talking about those sweet little Mary Janes your mommy bought you for your first day of school. It's typical to see Cissy wearing stilettos to class. But as you can imagine, as she is with everything else regarding her outer appearance, it just depends on the outfit. It's not like she doesn't have a nice selection of strappy sandals or flats or or or rainboots! Because she does. She just prefers heels. Strangely enough? She feels more comfortable in them, more confident. Heels are to her like cuddly sweatshirts are to most girls. You know, normal people. But Cissy has never exactly been normal, so we shouldn't be surprised. Oh? And not only do her heels make her feel comfortable, they also seriously accentuate her great legs. And really? They are seriously rockin'. Toned. Long. Curved at all the right spots. Whether she's got tights on or not, you know. You can tell.

Now, one thing Narcissa will pride herself on is that she has curves. Some of the really skinny girls at school don't exactly have the um, more obvious curves. Although thin she may be, you can't deny the ten inch difference between her boobs and her waist, and her waist and her hips. It's very feminine and she will, of course, flaunt it when possible. Don't get me wrong, the girl is still a size two. She's always been a bit on the skinnier side, so it's not like the reason she's so tiny is because she never eats. Trust me, she eats. She loves food. It's not like she pigs out on gross, fatty things or desserts all the time though – she watches what she puts in her body just because it's healthy – not because she wants to lose weight or any of that. She's got a very healthy self-esteem and really hasn't any issues with the way she looks. Well. Except for one thing. Her boobs. If she could change one thing about herself, it'd be her boobs. She just feels like they're not big enough. Which is silly, because proportionally, they're a perfectly fine size, and if you got too much bigger she'd probably fall flat on her pretty little face. But that doesn't change the fact that she's unhappy with them – hah, sort of makes you realize that this unbelievably beautiful person is actually a girl, right? So, as any other girl unhappy with their boobs will do, she wears push up bras. Really good push up bras. The kind that make your boobs look like, way bigger than normal. So, you know, that works out nicely. Doesn't change the fact that she's self-conscious about them. Oh, and for the record? Just because she wears push up bras doesn't mean her boobs are flying out all the time. She rarely wears low cut shirts. Unless she has someone to impress. So you better bank on a v-neck, Lucius.

Wand Type: Chimeara Scale, Oleander, 9 ¾ inches.
Wand Expertise: Potions & Dark Arts.
Patronus: Antipodean Opaleye.
Boggart: Losing the people who mean the most to her.

Personality:

As anyone with a brain should know, or at least be able to assume based on obvious evidence, Narcissa is spoiled. What else would you expect, though? Her parents were certainly no social philanthropists – the concept of being poor was always so abstract when she was a child – and it wasn’t like they told her – their baby, the youngest - “no”. Narcissa got what she wanted. No matter how expensive, inconvenient, meaningless, excessive, ostentatious or just plain old ridiculous the items Narcissa wanted, she would get them. The wealth of the family is vast, and the purchases Narcissa insists on hardly make a dent in her father’s wallet. The idea of not having money has been brought up once or twice in conversation with friends – what if who you fall in love with has no money, for example – and there's a quite simple answer: she wouldn't fall in love with a broke man. Call her shallow, call her a bitch, call her heartless, call her whatever you'd like; she doesn't care. She was never much of a romantic in the first place, so it's not her fault she finds the size of a man's pocketbook more endearing than any Shakespearian sonnets he may have memorized in attempt to woo her. She needs to think ahead about what's best for her and her future, and there is most certainly not any room for a penniless man in that plan. She's been spoiled by her daddy since birth, and she intends to be spoiled by her husband until she's dead. Simple as that.

As she has been conditioned to be from the very beginning of her life, Narcissa is glamorous. She hates the term ‘girly’, mind you. She is not girly. She is elegant, and yes, there is a difference. She purchases extravagant clothing, wears her dresses once and never lays hand – or eyes - on it again, keeps every single hair on her head in place, every nail perfectly painted, and her makeup pristine. Her legs are always shaven, her school uniform always perfectly ironed, she always smells divine, her skin is always flawless, her outfits always perfectly matched. She’s like an alive, breathing Barbie doll. So yes, Narcissa is vain. You’d be a fool to think otherwise. She is similarly shallow, insisting that she must surround herself only by the most attractive people. Of course, if you prove yourself to be useful when you're not exactly the prettiest thing in the world...well, who knows? Maybe she'll keep you around. She’s made a bit of a habit out of “fixing” her friends – alerting them when something ever so slight is wrong with their appearance, and offering to correct the problem. She’s always enjoyed fixing her hair and makeup, and she’s rather good at it; she also likes doing this for other girls before events.

In order for Narcissa to keep her sanity, things must be organized perfectly in a logical manner so as to avoid confusion. Her book bag, for example, is so organized you’d think you’d opened some intricate file system. Her assignments and projects and folders and pieces of parchment and quills and inkbottles all have their places in her bag. In her dormitory, her bed is always made immediately upon waking up, her clothes for the day always laid out on top of her trunk, her shoes always a little bit to the right of her trunk, and so on. Inside her trunk, you will see everything organized so perfectly you’d be scared to touch it – and really, you should be. If you bugger up her possessions, you will get a talking to, and if she’s in one of her moods [and she is, rather often] you will be on the receiving end of a multitude of hexes and jinxes, followed by a sweet warning never to lay your [if it be the case, filthy Mudblood] hands on her belongings again. And if you hadn’t determined this one yourself, I will come right out and say it: Narcissa is a perfectionist and a control freak. And when things aren’t perfect? Yeah, she’s definitely not happy. Of course, things are generally perfect when she’s the one in charge, which is why she’s a control freak. She can’t trust people to do things properly and the way she prefers. She is an absolutely wretched partner in class because she will simply either refuse to do the work or she will bribe her partner into allowing her to do it alone, or at least be the one to present the final information.

Unfortunately enough for the rest of us, Cissy isn’t like all of the other spoiled, rich, and completely air-headed young ladies. She focuses a great amount of her time into her studies, firmly believing that learning and retaining the information offered in the classes at Hogwarts will only work to her advantage and put her ahead of her classmates who don’t really seem to care ”and those who are just daft”. This puts her on the good side of quite a few of her teachers, a position she is comfortable with and wishes to maintain in the future. She rarely lets her grades slip past Outstanding, and an Acceptable is absolutely unheard of for Narcissa. She was, luckily – for her, atleast - gifted with a rather able memory, so she doesn’t need to spend a perilous amount of time studying to keep her straight O’s. Just to be sure, however, she insists on reinforcing things before tests and quizzes, but if she didn't, it wouldn't be the end of the world. She takes a lot of pleasure out of reading novels as well, and is shockingly well-read in Wizarding Literature [and only Wizarding Literature].

Narcissa doesn’t value honesty as the best virtue. She doesn’t avoid lying for religious purposes. She doesn’t think that telling the truth is the ‘right thing to do’. Regardless, Narcissa has always been an honest person. She doesn’t see the point in lying or beating around the bush or any of that unless it’s necessary – in which case, Narcissa could probably convince people of the most ridiculous things. She is a fatally talented liar and manipulator and is rather interested in the art of Occulmency, but let’s not get into that. She views lying as immature, a form of child’s play, and something that meddles up situations. Besides, she figures the cold, hard truth is more effective - or so it has proven to be. She has absolutely no problems with telling people how she honestly feels and isn’t one to necessarily…hold back. She’s prone to verbally abusing people when she's really mad, and she’s just a damn bitch sometimes. She’s argumentative. It should also be mentioned that she has a very fast fuse, rarely any patience, and a temper comparable to that of a pissed-off grizzly bear mother. Depending on the situation, however, she might just choose to restrain her anger for the time being, telling herself it’s not that big of a deal, it’s not something she should be upset about it – but trust me, you will eventually hear about it. She doesn’t forget easily, this one, and when she cracks, you’ll hear every single little thing you’ve done to piss her off since her last blow up. She's very stubborn and set in her ways, even in instances when she knows she's wrong but she’s so mad she just can’t stop. She’s a timebomb. Sometimes even the tiniest things can upset her and she can go from being content to rabid in a matter of seconds.

Cissy is proud. She belongs to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, so that's basically a given, isn't it? She was brought up taught by not only her parents, but also those in the pureblood social circle, that she was better than everyone else. She believes this firmly, and uses her blood status to her advantage whenever she can. She finds it difficult to tolerate anything produced by Muggles. She doesn't use Muggle products, read Muggle books, listen to Muggle music, and she avoids interacting with Muggles at all times, if possible. The only instance in which she'll use anything made by a Muggle is if a friend she respects recommends her to it. She doesn't like surrounding herself by the ordinary, and Muggles are, by all means, ordinary. It’s not only Muggles, though; her prejudice even extends to purebloods whose bloodlines just aren’t as long as hers. She can't help but feel a little bit apprehensive when talking with someone who isn't of pureblood status, and trust me, she knows after all those parties she was dragged to as a child. She will lower herself and speak to those who aren't pureblood, but that doesn't mean she'll play nicely. There are a choice few students at school she socializes with who aren't of pureblood status, but she really prefers not to even bother. She is very confident in herself and her abilities, and it’s clear in the way she carries herself. She doesn't look down, she doesn't feel ashamed of her looks or her intelligence and she is, more often than not, well-assured her decisions and actions are the correct ones. She has a lot of conviction with everything she does as well; she's completely unforgettable in that. She doesn't do anything she wants to be remembered in a little way; when she goes to parties, she wears the best outfits – admittedly, sometimes even better than the party-thrower themselves, and she takes no shame in that – when she makes a scene at school, she makes a scene. When she gets angry, she gets angry. When she wants to make a point, she makes it, and she doesn't hold back. Considering her pride, it makes sense that Narcissa is independent. She hates, hates, hates asking people for help, so much to the point that she's occasionally gotten a bit annoyed with people who ask her for help because she just expects them to be as resourceful as she is when it comes to gaining information. If she wants to know what a word means, she doesn't ask someone. She looks it up in the dictionary. If she has questions about anything, she works as hard as she can to determine the answer on her own, and only when she hasn't will she seek out someone else's help. Who knows – maybe it's just another one of her futile attempts to convince herself she doesn't need people.

It’s a slight challenge to be friends with Narcissa Black. Her temper, her drama, her pride, her inability to see past blood status, it’s all a lot to handle. She’s extremely picky about her friends, so even if you want to be her friend, chances are she’ll probably just brush you off. The thing about Narcissa is that she doesn’t go out of her way to make friends. She’s got too much pride. However, once you get past all of that – once you gain her respect and trust, that is, and learn to make it through the all too common tantrums – Cissy really isn’t all that terrible. She’s actually got a shocking tendency to be – brace yourself, kids…maternal. Yeah, I said it. If Narcissa cares about you and you’re in trouble? She’ll be by your side in a split second, ready to take care of you. When her girl friends are upset and crying, she’ll hold them in her lap and rock them until they stop, and not leave their side even after they’re done crying until she knows they’re okay. She cleans up people’s messes, and if anyone ever needs anything, she’ll buy it for them. Hell, she’ll even buy stuff for people if they don’t need it – she enjoys spoiling those close to her. She’s a bit of a chronic worrier, and if she ever has any indication of someone being in trouble, she’ll do what it takes to get them out of it. Regardless of how selfish Narcissa is, when it comes to the people she truly loves, she’ll put all of her selfishness away and think, for just a moment, about someone other than herself. She is fiercely protective of the people she loves and would do anything to keep them safe.

Cissy has always been a tiny bit unpredictable. The way she handles things depends entirely on a multitude of factors so one will never know how she’ll react to situations. Sometimes when you upset her she screams at you, other times she’ll make incredibly snide, bitchy remarks that probably sting even more than the screaming. Other times when you upset her she just doesn’t say anything at all, or she’ll give you the cold shoulder, or she’ll try to ruin your life completely. She’s observant and she knows people well enough to know how to get to them the best and really upset them, and she definitely exploits that when an opportunity presents itself and she feels it's necessary to do so. Socially, she's a chameleon, possibly a defense mechanism against people actually getting to know what she's really like. Depending on the situation and the people she's surrounded by, she could be anything from witty and charming to quiet and humble. She can be a good conversationalist if the occasion calls for it, so normally at social events, she's chatting it up, trying to impress as many people as she possibly can – and trust me, Narcissa always makes a point to impress people. And even if some kids from school think she's a total bitch, other people might think she's sweet, and others might think she's rough around the edges and you know? That's just what she wants.

Cissy isn't the sort of girl who spends a great deal of her time talking about silly, meaningless, mundane things just to make conversation with people she doesn't really care about. In fact, if she had the choice, she'd probably spend most of her time by herself, reading novels or traveling, but that's not exactly an option when you're a Black daughter with a reputation to maintain. Even though she cannot attain this ideal, introverted lifestyle, she works her hardest to have a private lifestyle. This doesn't mean she lies constantly to avoid telling the truth about what's going on in her life; she simply just doesn't bring personal things up. If people ask directly, sure, she'll talk, but even then, you will hardly get a detailed answer unless she wants you to know. She might want you to know all the details because she's being a vindictive bitch [for whatever reason], she might want you to know because you're her best friend, she might want you to know because she's certain it'll benefit her in some way, she might want you to know just because you were around and she needed to get some steam off her chest, she might want you to know because she thinks you'll offer the best advice. Whatever the reason may be, it's a rare occasion you can get a whole story out of her. She mostly just doesn't like when people know how she's really feeling about anything, so she avoids issues all together by not mentioning them. Narcissa has some serious trust issues – not just because she doesn't think people will be able to keep her secrets, but also because she's a little terrified she'll let someone in and they'll get too close and then something will happen and they'll die or things will take a turn for the worst and she'll be left heartbroken. It's a bit of a funny fear, considering she's such a cold person, but she still has the need to feel loved and protected like everyone else.

See, even she won't beat around the bush with this one. She knows it. Everyone knows it. Narcissa likes things her way, plain and simple. And if things aren't going her way, she'll do something to change that. She's not the sort to sit around and wait for things to happen, as if there were some sort of God controlling the universe. She takes situations into her control as best as she can so she can gain the most. She's cunning and very clever, so it's hard for people to do things behind her back because, trust me, she'll know. So if she has to lie to get what she wants? Yeah, she'll do it. Without even flinching, she'll do it. She'll manipulate and weasel and negotiate and exploit until she gets things the way she wants them, and she doesn't settle. If someone she doesn't like gets something she wants once, next time she'll be hell-bent on beating them out. She's terribly competitive and hates losing just like your typical Slytherin, so she does things to be sure all the odds are in her favor – and sure, a little...playful competition isn't out of the question. Really, the only times she's willingly to sacrifice what she wants is when a friend is involved.

Likes:
+ Paris.
+ Ballet.
+ Diamonds.
+ Pearls.
+ Lace.
+ Security.
+ Feeling protected.
+ Simplicity.
+ Classical music.
+ The smell of freshly cut wood.
+ Orchids and callalillies.
+ Horses.
+ Nice lingerie.
+ Shoes.
+ Singing.
+ Fashion.
+ Her eyes.
+ Tasteful interior design.
+ The Renaissance.
+ Pianos.
+ Reading.
+ Shopping.
+ Cellos.
+ Dark Magic.
+ Wintertime.


Dislikes:
– Thunderstorms.
– Getting the hiccups.
– Summertime.
– Ugly people.
– Anything unsanitary.
– Feeling exposed.
– Muggles.
– Tight spaces.
– Flying.
– Andromeda.
– Her endometriosis.
– Her boobs.
– Bossy people.
– Clowns.
– Blood.
– Tragedies.
– Being injured.
– Seeing her friends upset.
– Crying.
– Feeling weak, vulnerable.
– Broccoli.
– Hang overs.
– Being underestimated.
– Stupid people.
– Being ticklish.

History:

As much as I wish I could say it was love at first sight, I really can't. That would be one of the biggest lies you'd ever hear. Not that they hated each other at first sight. It's just that. Well. They didn't exactly get along, to say the least. He was three years her senior, so from the time she could remember, he was constantly the big butthead who pushed all the other kids around – or atleast her brothers, who just so happened to worship the ground he walked on. Druella Rosier was never exactly the most talkative and social little girl, so it was sort of in her nature to cling to her brothers. So she did, and this had its consequences. Being surrounded by Cygnus Black at nearly every single social event was this consequence, as he wasn't exactly a pleasant young man. His idea of a fun time generally involved boy things, which were, more often than that, icky. Or something like that. So she'd watch from the sidelines as the boys played, or follow them around as they got into mischief at parties. Rarely she spoke. That was the only way she was allowed to be with them anyway. She was a girl, so to them, her opinion was invalid. One time she brought a doll of hers with her to a party, and carried it along with her when the boys ran off in the middle of dinner. When Cygnus finally turned around after leading them off into a distant corner of the mansion, he was enraged that she'd brought the doll for entertainment. He took it from her and ripped the doll's head off. And you want to know what Druella did? She punched him. Right in the face. Gave him a black eye. Screamed at him too, which was probably the first time Cygnus had ever heard her speak. After that, their parents wouldn't let them “play” together. They hardly saw each other again. Until Druella made it to Hogwarts.

Regardless of how socially inept she may have been when she was younger, she became shockingly popular in her year. She was, naturally, sorted into Slytherin, where she made friends nearly immediately. Next was befriending the Ravenclaws, which wasn't that difficult – if she couldn't be in Slytherin, she probably would have wanted to be in Ravenclaw. She valued intelligence and was top in her classes, so it was easy to make conversation. She was wary of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, so she generally didn't go out of her way to befriend them. In fact, she wasn't actually friends with a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor until she was in her third year. Half-way through her first year, she had a nice, big group of friends. She was happy with that. Meanwhile, Cygnus, quite frankly, thought he was the king of the world. Or at least Hogwarts. He was the Quidditch team Seeker, he was arguably the most popular Slytherin boy of his year, he had a gorgeous pureblood girlfriend, he was getting good grades, his professors all loved him, and he had everything he wanted. Right? Right. Thus far, the only actual interaction the two had was making eye contact twice in the common room. There were, of course, stolen glances. They both remembered. And in the back of both their minds, they wondered about the other. Her thoughts were a bit more vengeful. His? Quite the opposite.

By the time she was in her fourth year, they'd still never spoken to each other. It was just awkward. It wasn't like they were even actually friends back then...they just spent 6+ hours a week playing together was all. And then the way things ended? Hah. Yeah. That was a good story, for sure. It didn't help that he had a crush on her back then, which really only intensified after she punched him and screamed at him. Funny, right? She mostly just hated his guts and constantly had the urge to waltz up to him with a sardonic grin on her face and say something bitchy. She wasn't quite as taken with his appearance as all of her girl friends were – probably because to her, he was still that bossy nine year old. It was quite a surprise, however, when she opened her bag one day and found a replica of the doll Cygnus had oh-so-kindly ruined when they were little. Yeah. But, you know, being Druella, she ignored it. Well. No. She knew what he was expecting her to do. She knew he knew she remembered it just as well as she did – their body language and obvious avoidance of one another was evidence enough – and she knew he expected her to take this as an invitation to talk to him. An excuse, maybe. But it wasn't really in Druella's nature to give people what they wanted, especially when they're fishing for it. Soon after he'd put it in her bag, they were about to cross paths in the hallway; he slowed down for her, but when she walked right past with a proud little bounce in her walk? Oh yeah, he was upset. In his oh-so-humble opinion, he was easily one of the most handsome, popular, and intelligent boys in school, so girls should come to him. Not the opposite way around. Especially her. He expected it to be a fluke. But when she still didn't say anything for a week, he was pissed. Cygnus was incredibly, incredibly, incredibly impatient. He'd been grinding his teeth, reminding himself that his pride was more important than caving to being the first one talking. And then - the nerve of the woman - she decided it was a great plan to wear a tiny little dress to the Great Hall for dinner one weekend, and then wave at him, teasingly – yeah, that set him off. At that point in time, he was too angry to even give a shit about his pride. He got up, sat down next to her, and asked her what she wanted from him. ...Yeah. What the hell she wanted from him. As I'm sure you can imagine, it did not turn out well. Actually, she ended up punching him in the face again. Only because he ended up breaking her doll. Again.

Druella somehow because more popular because of the punching-Cygnus-Black ordeal. This didn't make him happy, and he spent a great amount of time glaring at her silently. Of course they weren't talking. But then when her fifth year rolled around and she took his place on the Quidditch team as Seeker? They had to talk. After a rocky, hour-long conversation, they were at least civil. It was evident, however, that they were both far too strong-willed and prideful to have an actual friendship. This didn't stop them from talking. Well. Talking at first, but generally they ended up arguing about something. And then Christmas rolled around; for the first time in years, they actually ended up hanging out around each other at the extravagant parties that the Purebloods held, and on Christmas Eve night, a rather...interesting piece of information came out into the open. It was at the ball the Blacks always held on Christmas Eve. Cygnus's mom had a little bit too much to drink, and she was joking around with all the other women about how stressful it is for them to find their sons suitable, high society, pureblood wives. And then she said “not that I have to worry about that anymore”. Cygnus heard, and spoke up. “What was that, mother?”, he asked, hoping to Merlin that meant maybe she'd lay off pestering him about finding a better girlfriend; that maybe she'd accept the fact that Maggie's bloodlines didn't go as far back as theirs. The table got quiet, and Irma's face dropped. She explained that she was going to wait to tell him, then make the announcement, and then she blurted. The Blacks and the Rosiers had made an arrangement. Cygnus and Druella were to be married.

Of course, neither of them were too happy about this. Cygnus had a girlfriend, and Druella was fairly positive Cygnus was the spawn of the Devil – even if he did look a lot like his father. By the time they'd gotten back to school, the word had spread like wild fire. Even the Professors seemed to know. Luckily enough for Cygnus, he was in his seventh year. He'd only have to deal with it for a few more months. But it still sucked that he had to break up with his girlfriend. It was all really stupid, actually. It wasn't like he and Druella were dating. They just so happened to be engaged to be married. He was planning on never liking her anyway, and in his dream world, he would have dated as many girls as he possibly could before being forced into marrying her. But in his dream world, girls also didn't give a shit whether or not their boyfriends were sort of inadvertently cheating on them. But in real life? Girls did care that their boyfriends were engaged to someone else. So yeah. It didn't go over well. They remained civil with each other for quite some time. In fact, Druella was warming up to the idea of calling him her friend by the time March rolled around, which was nice. As absolutely dreadful as it was, she wasn't going to let that affect her happiness. She would make the best of it, so she figured befriending him was a good option. She did not want to be miserable the rest of her life. When summer rolled around, he was graduated and wasn't at home a lot. Off working. They wrote letters, though, and that was when Druella realized he wasn't anywhere near as much of a bonehead as she thought he was. They still wouldn't admit to liking each other. But the day Druella got that damn doll in the mail? She got this funny feeling. Like she wanted to kiss him. That was something new.

She took the doll with her to school when it resumed, naturally. She went through her sixth and seventh years with that doll as her companion. She saw him occasionally; sometimes he stayed in Hogsmeade when he knew the students would be allowed to go down on the weekend. He came for all of her Quidditch games, too. When the Slytherin team won the Cup her seventh year, he pulled out a ring and asked whether or not she'd be his girlfriend. She accepted, of course. She had to. But inside she was smiling a little bit bigger than she'd expected. Both Cygnus' and Druella's mothers were pushing for a speedy wedding, so that didn't leave much time for them being “boyfriend and girlfriend” or whatever you'd consider that, but they were able to spend a lot more time together, which was nice. On a balmy day in early December, Cygus and Druella became husband and wife. After the reception, the two of them sat on the bed – Druella inspecting the blisters on her toes, Cygnus un-doing his tie – and Druella turned to him. “Cygnus?” “Yes?” “...Do you love me?” He shrugged. “Sure. ...Do you love me?” Druella smiled wryly. “Sure.”

A year after they got married, Druella gave birth to Bellatrix. Cygnus was, naturally, a little disappointed at first because she wasn't a boy, but he was smitten with her not even fifteen minutes later – you could tell by the look in his eye that he didn't even want the nurse to take her away. A year or so later, Andromeda was born. Another year? Narcissa Vela Black was brought into the world.

Who knew when the favoritism started. It could have been because she was an easy baby – she rarely cried, and she was smiley. Maybe it was because when she was four, she was completely convinced she was a princess. And – thank Merlin for Druella telling her this, otherwise it could have gone terribly wrong – princesses are always behaved and well-mannered young ladies. Maybe it was because the sound of her giggle was like music, or because she always flew into daddy's arms when he got home from work, or because she said the most hilarious things when they went to parties. She was a cute kid, I tell you, and somehow, she became the favorite daughter. She, of course, didn't realize this. The favoritism started early, and at that point in time, she was too immersed in her own world to notice the difference between how her parents treated her and how they treated her sisters, and by the time she was old enough to notice, she was used to it. That's just the way the world was. Because she was left to play on her own so much, she grew up with a vivid imagination and quite the extravagant taste after playing dress up in mommy's closet. Her parents started her in ballet when she was young, and she was always anxious to show off what she learned to her mommy and daddy and sisters. She always felt excluded when she was with them, and when she was old enough to notice that no, they actually didn't like her, she started trying to win their acceptance. She learned things, she learned skills – many things considerably more advanced than her age – to try to impress them; none of these things worked. So by the age of eight, she knew for sure. She and her sisters would never be friends. It was inevitable. They hated her, for whatever reason, even though she'd never done anything wrong. It wasn't like the girls had constant arguments or had physical fights; they just didn't get along. They hardly even talked. The older two were cold toward Cissy; she learned to be cold back. Meanwhile, Cissy was the constant center of attention, at all the parties and balls, even just around the house. Her parents doted upon her more than the other two, gave her whatever she asked for, surprised her with expensive things. She was mommy and daddy's little princess.

Of course, social events were no exception. Everyone always had their eye on her – when she was younger, expecting her to say something funny, or do something cute – and as she got older, well...expecting her to say something funny, or do something cute. That's what she was good for; being funny and cute. Of course when she was little, the funny things sort of just happened for the simple fact that she was a little girl. She was very vocal and very curious about...well. Everything. She asked all sorts of questions, things ranging from “How come little boys have to wear bows around their neck and I don't? We could get a pink one to match my dress!” to “I wonder whether or not the maids are Purebloods!” - the adults got a crack out of that, let me tell you. And because of her sister's abandonment, she was forced to make friends. And so she did with one TJ Campbell. There was a charity event at the Campbell Estate when the two were six years old; TJ told her she had a pretty dress on, and the two became inseparable. They would always run off from the parties and explore, go on adventures, go and hide in someone's bedroom and play dress up and house, pretend to get married, the whole shebang. They'd walk around holding hands, which was a real crowd pleaser, she'd tried to teach him ballet, he'd sing for her. They were so close, in fact, that the idea of betrothing them was tossed around – squished by Cygnus and Druella, however, who insisted that the Campbell's bloodline just wasn't good enough for their standards. The children, of course, knew nothing of it. They had a very exclusive friendship, hardly playing or interacting with the other kids. And they were overjoyed when they both began showing signs of being magical, because they knew: they were going to go to Hogwarts together.

Of course, they were bound to be sorted into different houses. Cissy already had a fascination with Dark Magic at that young age because she had taken to sneaking into her father's private library and reading the more...um...morbid books. She was only caught at it three times, and received harsh punishment. But she didn't care about the pain; she was enthralled by it and wanted to learn more. So when she went to Slytherin and he went to Hufflepuff...well. She was a little disappointed. She knew Hufflepuff was...well...a fluffy house, just from what all the other kids had said, but it fit TJ's personality and...well, she liked him for his personality so she couldn't just not be friends with him anymore. It was difficult for her. As her first year went on, she noticed some of the kids in her Slytherin class shooting her glances when she'd talk to him. Of course, she wouldn't stand for it; she screamed at them and landed herself in detention, but the glances at least stopped. Meanwhile, Bellatrix had started talking to Cissy more, which...was...well, interesting, to say the least, but gladly accepted. Somewhere in her naïve mind she attributed the past eleven years of hardly ever talking to just the fact that she was the little sister. But now that she was in Hogwarts, maybe Bella respected her more or something. She had such a desire for her sister's approval, especially since Andromeda was sorted into Ravenclaw. Cissy didn't want to be a disappointment like her. As her relationship with Bellatrix strengthened, Cissy watched as Bellatrix's relationship with Andromeda slowly faded to nothing. Academically, Cissy excelled. She was getting excellent grades in all of her classes, which pleased her parents; she also became very involved in quite a few of the clubs at Hogwarts. There was no harm in getting ahead, right? She formed a good group of friends, and found her place in the school.

Now in her sixth year, the rest of her history is...well. Being written.

Sample Post: Please see posts by Lucy Murphy, Victoria MacMillan, Aidan Donnelly, Violet Stevens, or Charlotte O'Hara.

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{ C O N T R A C T }

I solemnly swear that I, ELLIE, have read the rules, understand clearly what my responsibilities are now that I am joining ISS, and will abide by these standards set by the staff.

[Lily Evans]

accepted !