3 : Three Sisters and Two Brothers

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Chapter 3: Three Sisters and Two Brothers

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"Cissy, did you take my hairpins? They're not on my vanity! I swear I left them right here!"

"No, of course not. I have my own. Have either of you seen my heels from Diagon Alley?"

"No. Keep better track of your things, I swear."

"Why are you even wearing heels? You complain about them every time."

"Not everyone's as tall as you, Andromeda!"

"Being tall is overrated."

"Says the only girl in the entire family who's as tall as Father."

"Yes. As if I didn't stand out enough, I'm also a giraffe in a ball gown. Thank you, Bellatrix, for that."

The three sisters were scrambling around the lake house, trying to ready themselves for their father's birthday party at Grimmauld Place. Narcissa hadn't seen him since the Christmas holiday. The entire family would be there, as well as many other high-class Purebloods. As with most of these gatherings, the Black sisters always drew attention, and any wrong move would earn them severe punishments from their family.

She had to be perfect.

It's a difficult mindset to live in, Narcissa thought as she applied powder to her face, concealing any freckles or blemishes that her mother could criticize. A copious amount of blush and red lipstick brought color back to her facial features. Her hair had already been set in soft curls resting on her shoulders, with a silver pin holding a thin twist out of her face.

She sat on a small cushioned stool in front of her mirror, carefully crafting the version of herself that her mother liked best: the elegant, refined Narcissa. Her fingernails were painted with a clear coat, and simple silver earrings hung from her ears. Only her necklace remained from earlier, the one part of her appearance that never changed and never would.

Under her breath, she hummed a lovely French tune that she'd mastered on both the piano and the violin. Her parents urged her to learn music from an early age, and she was the most advanced in instrumentals out of the three sisters. Women of high status learn instruments. When entertaining guests for your husband, music is always an option that will prove your worthiness as a wife. That was a Grandmother Crabbe saying.

As a wife.

Her hand shook and eyeliner streaked across her face.

"Oh!" Narcissa cried, staring in horror at her reflection. She leaned forward, trying to assess the damage. She didn't have time to start over.

A crash from downstairs started her even more, and the blonde hurried down the stairs to find two boys in her living room, brushing the soot off of their clothes.

They were both younger than Narcissa by a few years. The older one wore a pair of black ripped jeans and a t-shirt with the word QUEEN written in artistic lettering. His facial features were perfectly angular, like they were carved out of stone, a characteristic gene of the Black family. He swept his long hair out of his attractive gray eyes and grinned as he brushed off his pants, the ghost of a laugh always haunting him.

The younger one had tripped and fallen onto the carpet. He wore a simple white shirt and jeans. His gaze was softer than his brother's, with dark curls that tumbled into his light blue eyes. Only one other person in the entire family completely shared that particular hue, and it was Narcissa herself.

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