𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒 | R. LUPIN ✓

𝐓𝐖𝐎, just another unopened letter

ANTHEM OF THE ANGELS
act one, chapter two
(alternatively : telling sev off)
❛there's too many words left unsaid❜
•°•☽•☾•°•

✦ 𝙉ARCISSA ✦
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝙃arold, an owl Narcissa knew all too well, swooped into her room, circling above her head before he released the letter he had clasped in his talons. Narcissa gently put the letter on her bed once she caught it, moving to her dresser, where she plucked a piece of the uneaten bread she had on it and gave it to the owl, who affectionately bit her finger and Narcissa let out a chuckle.

"Bye Harry, I don't have a letter to give in return." The owl let put a screech, unsatisfied by this, for it had been three months since Narcissa sent a letter to Elora and Penelope. "Maybe next time okay?" Even the owl knew there was no next time, but all he did was swoop away and Narcissa let her eyes befall on the purple envelope. Penelope's favorite color. She wanted to read the letter but couldn't bring herself to. Not after her betrayal.

Here's the thing, to Narcissa, it didn't matter what color robes Penelope wore when she first met her, no, what mattered was her Carrow blood, her pure Carrow blood. That's what mattered to Narcissa, maybe she used Penelope, maybe, but it was far too late to apologize. Far too late but even if she could apologize, Narcissa was sure Penelope would never ever forgive her.

Narcissa knew Penelope well enough, she knew Penelope didn't beg people, she didn't forgive easy as well. What you do to Penelope Carrow, you get in return. Narcissa was ignoring her, and she was sure Penelope will ignore her soon enough. She'll give up on her soon enough, that Narcissa knew. She wanted to save their friendship, really, she wanted to but she just couldn't. She betrayed one of the most amazing people to ever exist in this dull world, and even if she could win Penelope's trust back, she could never live with herself knowing that.

Narcissa herself was still dealing with the fact that her mother was busy dying and her sisters all left home. They found a tumor the size of a golf ball in Druella's left lung, courtesy of her smoking like there was absolutely no tomorrow. Let's not forget that her own mother married her off.

(All because she said she doesn't want Narcissa to see her dying—fucking bullshit.)

Maybe that's why Narcissa wasn't writing to Penelope and Elora, maybe she knew that if she were to write a letter, all she would write is about her dying mother and her arranged marriage. It's not like she didn't know the man she was to be married to, she knew Lucius Malfoy and she had once helped him pick the books James and Sirius had knocked out his hands. (Despite him being a Prefect and them being like twelve.) But that didn't mean she truly loved him. Sure, she liked him, he's a fellow Slytherin and his blood is as pure as can be.

She couldn't picture herself being married to him, having his son or daughter. (But preferably son, Lucius will want a son, to carry his name. Narcissa wanted a girl, so she can shield her from being intoxicated by the dark side, just like Bellatrix. The change in her sister scared her, a lot and she didn't want to see it happen ever again.)

"Mistress Narcissa," A tiny, squeaky voice spoke, snapping Narcissa out of her reverie and she let her blue eyes travel to the house elf standing by the door and she swallowed hard. It was time. "Mistress' portkey leaves in an hour."

"Right, thank you Sindy." Narcissa smiled, despite the turmoil inside her and the tears threatening to fall.

Not only has she failed her best friend, but she's failed herself.