NARCISSA ELLADORA MALFOY twenty six - pureblood - slytherin alumni solcialite & philanthropist you're not decorating some girl for a night on the town, and i'm not just some second rate queen getting kicks in a crown.
in front of my m o t h e r and my sisters, i pretend L O V E is cheap and VULGAR. i act like it’s a s i n - i pretend that l o v e is for women on a dark path. but at night i D R E A M of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb - i dream up a LOVER who makes love like he is separating s a l t from water…
Full Name: Narcissa Elladora Malfoy
Name Origin: Unlike her sisters and most of her relatives, Narcissa was not named after a star or constellation, instead after the Greeks. Narcissa is a name of Greek origin meaning daffodil. It is feminine of Narcisse, which comes from the legend of the beautiful Greek youth Narcissus, who became enamoured of his own reflection - hence “narcissism”.
Nicknames: Cissa or Cissy, but only to those closest to her. She does prefer Cissa over Cissy though, as it sounds less childish.
Age: Twenty Six
Birthday: 23rd December, Capricorn
Gender & Pronouns: Cis Woman, She/Her
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Married to Lucius Malfoy
Patronus: Narcissa’s Patronus would take the form of a Tiger
Boggart: Narcissa’s Boggart is Death
Wand Type: 13″, Elm Wood with a Dragon Heartstring Core
Occupation: Socialite and Philanthropist, Dark Artefacts Curator
Affiliation: Death Eater Ally
Face Claim: Florence Pugh
Key Information: Please see below the cut
𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 ;; can be found by clicking here
𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝘽𝙊𝘼𝙍𝘿 ;; can be found by clicking here
𝘼𝙎𝙎𝙊𝘾𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 / 𝘼𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙎 ;; ears that are always listening, rooms with high ceilings, the stony features of a face unwilling to give away any information, ‘clever as the devil and twice as pretty’, summer evenings and winter mornings, perfect paper creases, stargazing, ‘you’re like snow, beautiful but cold’, white linen, black roses protected by their thorns, the underestimated sister, the sweetest of smiles and eyes that are always watching.
𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙇𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙐𝙋𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙂 ;; The youngest of three daughters, Narcissa was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and an appearance that would instantly set her apart from the rest of her immediate family. With her golden locks and piercing blue eyes, she was destined to stand out in photographs, contrasting the raven hair and dark features that were commonly associated with the Black family. At no point did this ever put her at a disadvantage however. Only a moment spent in her company is enough to see that the Black blood runs deep in her veins.
As a child, she was the princess of the family, in her fathers eyes especially, and it was from a very young age that she started being taught all that there was to know about how to be the perfect young woman. Narcissa picked everything up easily, whilst continuing to enjoy the finer things in life, and that was exactly what Cygnus and Druella wanted for their daughter - to become a respected Pureblood woman with the world at her disposal.
Growing up as part of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was, of course, not all sunshine and rainbows. Like many of the other families in their society, the Black home is full of secrets, scandal and betrayal. You name it, and chances are at least one of them have been accused of it. Of course they have their own way of dealing with it - Narcissa has already lived to witness one of her cousins and her own sister be disowned completely and she knows it is not the first time that it has happened. The fear of this happening to her for not being good enough, or for doing something wrong was instilled early in her life and it continues to hang over her to this very day.
𝘼𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙃𝙊𝙂𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙎 ;; When it came to attending Hogwarts, there was no doubt that Narcissa would be sorted in to Slytherin House. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before making its decision, and it was with her fellow snakes that she thrived. She worked hard to achieve good grades, and being away from the watchful eyes of her parents, she was able to find her own independence and sense of identity. Of course it never strayed far from what her parents wanted for her, but she was determined to ensure things were done on her terms as well.
𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙀𝙍 ;; Although Narcissa is unemployed and has no need to find herself a job, she has always had a passion for dark artefacts and cursed objects, and has found herself to be somewhat of a collector of both. Only a small handful of people know about her collection, but it is something she takes pride in expanding. She has also been known to source and sell on a few objects here or there. When she is not expanding her collection, Narcissa considers herself as a proud socialite and philanthropist, publicly supporting a number of causes.
𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙍 ;; When it comes to the war, Narcissa has always followed suit with the majority of her family and naturally agreed with the ideals of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Most of the company she kept was often from the inner circle, but she knew very early on that she would never agree to take the dark mark, despite being encouraged on numerous occasions to do so.
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"He's going to be a momma's boy, I can just tell." Lydia said happily. Narcissa deserved a son that adored her so thoroughly. Most all mothers did, but Narcissa in particular. She had a spine like steel. It was impressive to behold. "He has the sweetest face too. Is he sleeping well? I hope so.
"The world is certainly grateful to meet him! We could all use a bit of joy I think, and what's happier than a sweet baby?" Her smile didn't falter as she held out her fingers for Draco to play with. "Quite well," she lied, "All much of the same. Marcus wants me to get married, I pretend not to hear him, the same old routine. I've had the same job for almost two years now, it's a new record. Might have to find a new one just to prove to Marcus I'm not ready for responsibility."
Narcissa let out a soft laugh at Lydia’s words, though her expression carried a fond sort of certainty. “If he is, I shall count myself very fortunate.” She lowered her gaze briefly to Draco, who stirred faintly but settled again. “He sleeps… as well as any infant can be expected to,” she admitted, tone wry but forever touched with maternal pride.
"Just quite well?" She asked as she observed her friend. At Lydia’s mention of Marcus, her brow arched delicately. “Responsibility is not a thing to be hurried into, it loses its meaning when forced. Marriage isn't for everyone.” She shook her head, a small smile curved her lips. “Besides, I cannot imagine you tamed so easily. You’ve always had your own mind and I'd hate to see that changed unless you wanted it.”
The brunette entered softly after the house elf showed her to where Narcissa would be. Her hands clasped delicately in front of her, she smiled at her old friend. “Darling, I hope I’m not intruding. I wanted to check in… see how you’ve been managing with the little one.” She glanced fondly toward the cradle, her voice gentle, curious. “I can hardly imagine balancing motherhood with everything else going on… you know, with… well, everything.” There was a touch of wistfulness in her tone, a quiet longing for the stage of life she hoped was soon hers, while maintaining that careful neutrality she had learned to hold in the face of the rising tension in the wizarding world.
Narcissa’s gaze lifted from the cradle at the sound of her friend’s voice, her expression easing into something warmer than most were ever permitted to see. “You are never an intrusion,” she assured softly, her hand brushing over the silk edge of the blanket that shielded Draco from the draft. “I confess, it has been… an adjustment. He demands so much, yet I find I cannot begrudge him a single moment. There is a peace in his presence, even when the world outside grows... louder by the day.” Her pale eyes lingered briefly on her friend, searching, perceptive. “It is not without its difficulties, of course, but I would not trade this for anything. One learns quickly what truly matters.” A faint, knowing smile curved her lips before she shook her head lightly. "Come sit and tell me how you've been. Shall I get the house elf to fetch us some tea?"
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Andromeda was trying to relax and enjoy the evening with her family, not worry that things could go horribly awry at any moment. Ted and her had debated seriously before agreeing that Dora deserved a night of fun. They couldn't hide away at home forever. Ted had been the brilliant one to use a charm to keep Dora close to them. Their own version of a bubble that kept her from slipping too far from them. A charm that was giving her a modicum of peace in the crowded streets.
Ted had gone to grab sweets, Dora adamant she needed a cauldron cake and her husband set on some candy floss. She didn't want to go too far, though Dora and her wandered along the stalls admiring trinkets and watching people play games. They'd turned a corner, Dora not paying attention to where she was going and saved from running into someone only by the charm that kept her inches shy. "Dora you need to look where you're going." She reminded her daughter, looking up to apologize only to have the words catch in her throat. Her eyes went to her sister first before straying the baby she carried against her, her expression softening. "Cissy.."
Narcissa had thought herself prepared for the fayre—the colours, the press of bodies, the noise that seemed to echo too close around them. She held her head high as ever, but her arms instinctively tightened around the small bundle she carried, Draco tucked safely against her chest beneath layers of the finest fabrics. She had just adjusted the blanket when a sudden strain against the charm she had around herself, followed by the sound of a familiar voice had her stopping in her tracks.
Her eyes lifted, shock flitting across her features before she smoothed them into composure. It had been so long since she’d seen her sister’s face—since that afternoon at St. Mungo’s, when desperation had driven her to seek comfort where she swore she never would again. The memory lingered like a fragile thread between them, something unspoken but not forgotten.
“Andromeda…” she breathed, quiet but weighted. Her gaze moved to the little girl at her sister’s side, then back again. For a moment, Narcissa’s lips pressed into a fine line, as though she might retreat behind her mask of cool civility. But then Draco stirred, a tiny hand slipping free from the blanket, and she adjusted him with tender precision, her whole posture instinctively curling protectively around him.
“This is Draco,” she said softly, voice gentler than she intended, though her arms never loosened their hold. Her eyes flickered back to Andromeda’s, searching, wary. Forever conscious that they were out in public and anyone could look their way at any time. "He arrived as healthy as you said he would."
Rabastan was pleased with his family. But it troubled him that the next generation had arrived while the world remained unsuitable. This disquiet was strengthened by sight of Narcissa with her son. She was a witch who deserved better. He fought this war as much for those like her, as for himself and his own lineage. Their kind was being silenced and forced into extinction. It was incorrect and unjust. The world should be theirs to rule. These thoughts reinstated seriousness to his expression, though it broke at the jest. He laughed curtly.
"The nanny, mostly," he corrected, without thinking anything of it. There were some traditions that he would not relinquish. Both his and Alecto's time was better spent elsewhere, to ensure the future they desired. Narcissa, on the other hand, might opt for a different approach. "Do you intend to raise Draco yourself? Motherhood suits you. You look remarkably content."
It was true. She had a glow that was surely visible even to those who were not gifted her friendship or her warmth. Looking down at Draco, he found himself unexpectedly struck by the same protective urge as for his own children. He was such a helpless bundle, but he would grow into a wizard worthy of two noble houses.
"I have been busy with the war, Cissa. I want it to end, quickly and in our favour, before the children grow too old. I do not want them to endure its failings. They must only reap the benefits." He adjusted his son, who began tugging at his shirt buttons like they were edible. The boy had an obsession. Rabastan had long-charmed them to be immoveable. He smiled more openly, moving to less controversial topics. "Emma Flint is pregnant, and so is Mira Selwyn. I am still trying to locate whoever polyjuiced as me. I can't get my head around it. It's as absurd as it is infuriating. I'm afraid I don't have any innocent updates for you, unless you'd like to hear about my mother's social endeavours, which I would be hard pressed to describe as 'worth noting'."
Narcissa’s gaze lingered on the child tugging at Rabastan’s shirt, her lips curving in amusement before his question drew her attention back. “I intend to raise him myself, yes,” she answered simply, smoothing a hand over Draco’s blanket. “With a little help, of course—but I would not hand him over entirely. He is mine. And I find I rather… enjoy the quiet rhythm of it.” There was a note of surprise in her own voice, as though she had only just admitted it aloud for the first time.
At his words of war, her expression softened but grew more solemn. “I share your wish, Rabastan. It should not be theirs to inherit, this uncertainty. Let them be children first, before the world lays its burdens upon them.” She did not speak of victory or cause—her voice carried only the quiet, fervent protectiveness of a mother.
His mention of Emma and Mira lightened her mood again, and she allowed a faint laugh. “It seems the next generation will hardly be lacking company. Perhaps Draco will not want for playmates after all. Though from what I've been hearing Mira has hardly been present in recent weeks?” Tilting her head, she furrowed her brow.. “As for the polyjuice—I daresay one should only be flattered someone went to such lengths to borrow your face, though I’m sure it’s less charming when you’re the one untangling the consequences... If not who, have you been able to at least learn why they did it?" She asked, shaking her head. "I think you can spare me the details of your mothers endeavours for now. There are plenty other things we can talk about before we have to scrape that particular barrel, I'd say."
Ever since her run-in with Antonin, Lydia had been jumpy. Every corner could have Antonin lurking there waiting. Maybe she'd get better with time but it was awful for now. At least at home it was easier to breathe. But she loved the Fayre, and she loved parties. She wouldn't her own fear beat her.
The sight of Narcissa and Draco did raise her spirits, she couldn't help it. "Oh, you brought Draco!" She said, clapping her hands together. Lydia couldn't help but 'aww' as she caught sight of Narcissa's son. "Look at him he's just beyond precious. He has your eyes!"
Narcissa’s smile deepened at Lydia’s delight, her chin tilting just slightly in that familiar way that carried both pride and composure. “He does, doesn’t he?” she murmured, her voice low and fond as she brushed a fingertip over Draco’s downy hair. “Though I suspect he’ll grow into more of Lucius’ features in time. For now…” Her gaze softened as she looked down at her son. “For now he’s mine in every sense.”
She shifted her arm just enough so Lydia could peer more closely, but still kept Draco snugly against her, protective as ever. “It feels strange, bringing him out into the world like this. But I thought it wouldn’t do to keep him hidden away forever."
"But anyway, it’s truly good to see you, Lydia. How have you been keeping?”
The children were growing quickly. Each time Rabastan saw them - which was not every day - there was some new detail or development. The latest was an absurdly swift ability to crawl. At this present moment, they seemed determined to enact that expertise, wriggling chubby legs and finely-clothed torsos in an effort to break free from the charms he'd placed onto their pram. Hearing Narcissa, he turned with a mirrored smile. There were few who could claim his affection - she was one of them.
"Hello, Narcissa." Taking pity on his son, since he was the more restless of the two children, he picked him up and was satisfied as he settled comfortably against his chest. He was not intuitively attuned to childcare. But his energy was calm and secure. He was often able to soothe the children without particularly trying, much to Alecto's irritation. "We're well. I thought it would be good for them to see all the magic, but I must admit I wish I sent them with the nanny." He was nothing if not blunt. Drifting his eyes to the cradled child, he conjured a floating light to distract his daughter. It worked, the girl now occupied by reaching fruitlessly to grab it. "It's good to see you out and about. Is Draco well?"
Narcissa's smile softened as she glanced at little Rhadamanthus against Rabastan's chest, and then over to his sister reaching out for the enchanted light. "They are looking very well Rab - so full of life and much bigger since I last saw them. I can only imagine they must keep both yourselves and the nanny endlessly on your toes." She teased lightly, though her voice carried a genuine fondness that not many found themselves on the receiving end of.
At his question, she shifted Draco slightly, brushing a pale strand of hair from her face as she looked down at her son. "He's well, sleeping more soundly now. Though I best not boast too much, I know how swiftly these things can change." Her expression warmed, pride and protectiveness mingling in her features. "It feels good to be among people again, even if it does involve navigating through the rabble. That I've not particularly missed. But similarly to yourself, I thought it would be good for Draco. Can't very well keep ourselves to the Manor forever."
"I don't suppose I've missed anything worth noting these past few months, have I?"
WHERE: End of Summer Fayre, Hogsmeade
WHO: Narcissa & Lydia @lydiatravers
It had been some time since Narcissa had truly ventured out into public, content to remain behind the ancient walls of Malfoy Manor since the birth of her son, but with the season's turning and Draco bundled safely against her shoulder, she had finally relented to a day among familiar faces.
Pausing near a Honeydukes stall, she adjusted the blanket wrapped around the tiny bundle in her arms. A faint proud expression softened her otherwise composed features as she murmured something low to her son, her hold on him both protective but tender. Out of the corner of her eye, Narcissa caught sight of a familiar figure weaving through the crowd - Lydia. Genuine happiness stirred within her - it felt like forever since she'd last been able to share a moment with her friend.
"Lydia," Narcissa called, her voice tinged with quiet excitement. She shifted slightly so the other witch could glimpse the pale tufts of hair peeking from beneath the folds of Draco's blanket. "I was beginning to wonder if I might see you here. Come - " her lips curved into a rare genuine smile, "you must meet him properly."
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WHERE: End of Summer Fayre, Hogsmeade
WHO: Narcissa & Rabastan @r-lestrcnge
The fading summer sun painted Hogsmeade in shades of gold as the fayre buzzed with laughter, music and the sweet scents that Narcissa had almost forgotten. It was one of the first events that she'd agreed to attend since Draco's arrival, and though she carried herself with the same expected composure, the small bundle cradled against her chest made her steps slower, more careful than they'd ever been before. Whispers of protective charms lingered, allowing the babe to easily rest undisturbed by the bustle around them.
Narcissa's gaze caught a familiar figure up ahead, and then the two small children in tow. A genuine smile touched her lips. "Rabastan," she called as she made her way over. "What a lovely surprise to see you and the twins here. How have you all been keeping?"
When Draco Malfoy entered the world, it was not in the sterile halls of St. Mungo’s, but within the heart of Malfoy Manor itself. Narcissa had insisted upon it. The ancient house, with its high-vaulted ceilings and watchful portraits, bore witness to his first cries, as though the generations who had come before were silently acknowledging the arrival of their heir. Surrounded only by the most trusted of attendants, she gave birth with quiet determination, her hand never straying far from Lucius’, who stood steadfastly at her side. When at last Draco was placed in her arms, Narcissa wept. Not from weakness, but from the overwhelming certainty that her life had changed forever. When Draco’s first cry echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber, she held him close with a fierce protectiveness that surprised even her. Lucius, for all his composed dignity, bent low to kiss his wife’s temple and rest a trembling hand upon his son’s head, unable to hide the flicker of awe in his usually unreadable eyes.
In the weeks that followed, the manor became a sanctuary, its grand silence softened by the rhythms of new life. The heavy doors remained closed to visitors; invitations were politely declined, and society’s persistent curiosity was left unsatisfied. For a time, Narcissa was happy to let the world move on without her. The proud and carefully composed woman who so often appeared in salons and at soirées set aside her practiced airs to devote herself wholly to her child. She spent hours rocking him beneath the tall windows, whispering lullabies only he would ever hear, her world narrowing to the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his small body nestled against her.
The months stretched on in a haze of intimacy and secrecy. Lucius, though outwardly busy with his affairs, found his wife transformed by her devotion, more radiant in her quiet seclusion than in all the glittering lights of society. For Narcissa, it was a rare freedom. An interlude when the world’s expectations and the weight of Pureblood duty could be set aside. Within the manor’s walls, she was not merely Lady Malfoy, nor a daughter of the Noble House of Black, but simply a mother, guarding her son’s earliest days with a vigilance that was both tender and unyielding.
And in those months of privacy, she bound Draco to herself with a depth of love that no public eye would ever truly see.
Gift/starter for: Narcissa & Lucius Malfoy
@nvrcissasm @luciusmalfoyx @xrodolphusxlestrangex
Delivered by house elf the day after Draco was born: an antique copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, its enchantments adapted and enhanced by all the Lestranges. Each page includes moving visuals, music and atmospheric effects, which activate as the stories are read aloud. The book is accompanied by a set of cursed figurines, which will prevent anyone unwanted from entering the room where they're placed.
Dear Narcissa and Lucius,
Congratulations on the birth of your son. He has been born into two great families. This is his gift from ours to yours, Lestranges to Malfoys. We will protect him as our own.
Cissa, I suggest you don't let our mother into the room when the figurines are visible. She's unwanted in any space she enters, after all. She'd probably end up quite dead.
“Flattery, cheekbones, and charm… truly, you are unstoppable,” Narcissa replied with a soft chuckle as she shifted on her feet, a hand instinctively brushing over her stomach. "Thank you. That means a lot. If this child ends up with even half the grace you show in social manoeuvring, he’ll be leagues ahead before he’s even out of diapers." She nodded. “Lucius is… walking a tightrope between panic and performance I think. He keeps a dignified air when others are around, but he's also increasingly unwilling to let me out of his sight in case something happens." She offered a faint, genuine smile then “I’d be delighted if you stopped by. And yes, do bring Leta if she also has the time — it’s been far too long, and the company is always welcome. I imagine you both have plenty stories I’d enjoy hearing.”
Evan grinned at her words, a flicker of fond amusement lighting up his face. “Ah, poor Lucius — nothing like impending fatherhood to turn a man into a watchdog in silk robes. Still, I suppose it suits him in a strangely noble sort of way.” He offered Narcissa a warm, genuine smile, his gaze momentarily drifting to her stomach with quiet reverence before returning to her eyes. “I’ll hold you to that invitation, then. We’ll bring some scandalous stories for sure.” With a teasing wink, he gave her a slight bow, courtly and playful all at once. “Take care, Cissa. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he turned on his heel, his elegant stride carrying him away, the faint echo of his laughter lingering in the air.
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where: the malfoy manor
who: @nvrcissasm
when: 6th of june, 1980 - 06:00
“Get her whatever she needs!” Lucius commanded sharply, his eyes never leaving Narcissa as the nurses moved swiftly around the room, tending to her through the relentless waves of labour. Her water had broken two hours ago, and now the long, agonizing wait had begun.
He settled at the edge of the bed, reaching out to take her hand gently, their fingers intertwining. His voice softened, steady and filled with quiet reassurance. “Soon, love. He’ll be here before you know it.”
Narcissa squeezed his hand tightly, her knuckles white, her breath shallow as another contraction gripped her. Her eyes, shimmering with pain and determination, found his. "Don't say it like that—like it's easy," she breathed, her voice trembling but fierce. "You try carrying your son for nine months and then talk about 'soon.'"
But even through the strain, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Her grip loosened slightly, and she let her head fall back against the pillow, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I'm just—tired," she whispered. "But I know. I feel it."
Then, turning her head again to look at Lucius, her expression softened. “Just don’t let go. Not until he’s here.”
"She truly has." Narcissa replied with a genuine smile. Even being incredibly pregnant and uncomfortable for the majority of the day, it was impossible for her to not be happy for her friend on this day. "They both have." She added with a small nod. With everything else, the Selwyn's deserved to celebrate a true moment of happiness.
Head inclining as he leaned in, she hummed. "If you could hold your son for even a moment, I'd be inclined to stay longer. But I think now would be a good time to start saying our goodbyes while I can still feel my toes."
Lucius nodded, already slipping a hand beneath her arm with practiced ease. “Then it’s time I escorted you home before you stage a rebellion in the drawing room,” he said lightly, though his eyes flicked briefly to her swollen belly with quiet concern. “You’ve done more than enough for one evening.” He glanced toward the hosts, ever mindful of appearances. “We’ll give our farewells and then I’m getting you off your feet.”
