@hogwartsonline | motherly figures ✢ narcissa malfoy née black
“If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.”
make me choose: asked by @waterylillies →
house blackor house malfoy?“It is often said of the Malfoy family that you will never find one at the scene of the crime, though their fingerprints might be all over the guilty wand…” [x]
moodboards → the black sisters
“my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically r o y a l…”
harry potter meme ϟ [1/9] characters: narcissa malfoy (née black)
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do anymore!” Narcissa breathed, a note of hysteria in her voice, and as she brought down the wand like a knife, there was another flash of light.
Still feigning death on the ground, he understood. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts, and find her son, was as part of the conquering army.
She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.
@fenrirgreybacks mmc: remadora or lucissa
Gold runs in our blood - Virginia Woolf, The Waves
hp instagram au: the b l a c k sisters
sisters, as you know, also have a unique relationship. this is the person who has known you your entire life, who should love you and stand by you no matter what, and yet it’s your sister who knows exactly where to drive the knife to hurt you the most. ~lisa see
Imagine Harry sees Narcissa in Diagon Alley several months after the end of the war. He approaches cautiously, because he wants to thank her for saving his life, but he doesn’t know if her views on blood purity have changed at all. To his great surprise, when he gives his thanks, she tears up. “It’s I who should be thanking you, Mr. Potter. You saved my son’s life as well that day.” They trade nervous smiles and then, awkwardly, she hugs him. After that, they talk whenever they meet on the street, and they often send owls back and forth as well. Then one day Draco comes home from work (he’s waiting tables at a restaurant while he gets his N.E.W.Ts through private study) and finds Harry and Narcissa in the kitchen together, drinking tea and laughing. Narcissa looks up when her son enters. “Did you actually climb a tree to mock him in fourth year?” she asks with a snort. Harry, laughing even harder, giggles, “Is your Patronus really a /ferret/, Malfoy? That’s amazing.” Draco looks back and forth between them in horror.
narcissa malfoy was probably the most powerful occlumens in hogwarts history and nobody knew
she literally stood up to lord voldemort and lied that harry potter was dead and i don’t know about you but if i were an evil ruler i would probably want to triple-check that my nemesis was, you know, actually deceased
voldemort had actual doubts about snape
narcissa swans on by without a whisper, without a second glance
narcissa malfoy understood from a young age that she was meant to do only a few things: look pretty, say nothing, and marry well.
narcissa malfoy understood those rules, and she layered her mind with them.
look pretty. wear the most expensive robes. grandmother’s pearls. curl your hair every night. think only of clothes and dimples and the way your hair falls when you flutters you eyelashes at a boy.
say nothing. don’t speak when mother and father are screaming at each other. demurely look down as another boy asks you to dance. retreat into the reading room when your family friends, known death eaters and criminals, pay your parents a visit and speak in hushed voices over tea. think of pretty things.
marry well. marry into a family of your parents’ friends. bear children. wear pearls and look demure and think of nothing but pretty, pretty things, like the way your husband’s hair gleams in candlelight.
masters must learn the rules before they can break them. narcissa learned the rules so well that they wrapped around her; sank into her skin and her mind. they protect her from enemies. they conceal the quick, strategic plots ticking her brain into gear every moment of every day. they hide the calculation of each smile, each movement.
narcissa is so good, so perfect, that no one will ever know.