narcisse noir, juin 1975

[pridegoesbefore]

Being of the properly grown-up age of nineteen years and eight months, Narcissa Black has in her possession the following:

~one Charms Mastery, First Class
~a complete lack of compunction in exercising her hard-earned skills
~eleven months of memories of a whirlwind apprenticeship on the Continent
~a slightly battered Pierre Vuitton trunk
~more shoes than should really be able to fit in that trunk, but she tweaked the storage charms
~all thirty-five letters her fiancé sent to her since he left school - only six are from her time away
~a copy of her betrothal contract, creased and worn from countless re-readings, folded around a photograph of a pair of students on a couch by a fireplace; the young man wears a school uniform without a tie, and is holding a blonde girl, who is wrapped in his robes and asleep in his lap. Each time she shifts, he presses a discreet kiss to her hair
~an ostentatious yet incredibly elegant diamond ring on a significant finger of her left hand
~on rare occasions, some very vague, hazy, might-have-been-fever-dreams memories of people whose blurred faces simply won't attach themselves to names
~and one very curious anomaly - the doors in Raven Hall don't always open onto the rooms they should...

UPDATED: It is now March May of 1976, and Narcissa is twenty and a half years old - and newly single. The contract itself is not broken, but her engagement to Lucius, and therefore the wedding, are on indefinite hold.