A/N- Written for WeasleySeeker's Flashback Competition on the HPFC forum and Challenge #54 on the Bellatrix Lestrange: The Dark Lord's Most Faithful Forum, for which the challenge was to write a fic that featured a flower in some way. Please let me know what you think :)

Narcissism

Tiny yellow daffodils dotted Narcissa's bouquet, which was clasped gracefully in her pale hands as she stood before the floor length mirror in her bedroom, admiring the way the white silk of her dress skimmed her slim figure. Lucius' mother had thought it would be sweet to have the flower for which she was named woven into the traditional arrangement of white flowers. Narcissa had thought the colour garish and unrefined, but she did not wish to begin arguing with her mother-in-law before she and Lucius were even married, so, reluctantly, she had agreed.

"Those are subtle," Bellatrix commented as she swept into the room and sprawled herself across an armchair.

Narcissa ignored her, after all, Bella was hardly one to talk about subtlety, and continued to gaze at her flawless appearance in the mirror, scanning for any hair out of place or tiny crease in the floods of her skirt.

"Aren't you going to tell your sister how beautiful she looks?" Druella demanded as she needlessly smoothed Narcissa's train.

"I'm sure you've already told her countless times," Bellatrix replied idly.

Druella turned and frowned at her eldest daughter. "Sit up straight, Bellatrix. You'll crease your dress".

Bella did not move and Narcissa returned to her bouquet as her mother and sister glared at each other. She could remember requesting huge daffodils to be put in vases in her bedroom as a young girl. She had not known they were poisonous then. She had thought they suited her – bright and sunny, just as she was in comparison to her dark older sisters.

She had changed her mind when she discovered the real reason behind her given name.

She had come across the word 'narcissism' in one of her mother's fashion magazines. She did not understand it, but in fairness she hadn't really been following the rest of the article. At seven years old, she was only looking at the magazine to see the models twirl in their beautiful dress robes.

She assumed the word meant something bright and friendly and adored, conveying just how she thought about herself. It was so similar to her name that she thought it should be her word.

When she looked up the definition, however, it didn't seem to suit her at all.

'Narcissism n extreme selfishness, with a grandiose view of one's own talents and a craving for admiration.'

Surely extreme selfishness was a bad thing. Adults always told her not to be selfish when she wouldn't share something with her sisters or cousins. Maybe, she thought, her parents hadn't known about this word, because they would never have named her after something bad.

She went to find her mother, who was sitting at the dressing table in her room, smoothing her hair back into its impeccable, elegant bun, as she did several times a day.

She greeted Narcissa with a tiny smile, rose and beckoned her over to the stool. Narcissa gazed at her reflection for a little while as her mother combed her long, blonde hair, before remembering why she was there.

"Mother, I saw this word just now that sounded like my name. Narcissism. But then I looked it up and it said that it means being really selfish."

"Loving yourself, to be more precise," Druella said softly, her eyes not straying from her daughter's hair.

"So you named me after the flower then?"

Druella gave her a quizzical look.

"Well you wouldn't have named me after something bad," Narcissa clarified,"so you must have named me after narcissuses, not narcissism."

Druella gave a sad little smile. "Narcissism is not a bad thing, my dear. The sooner you learn that, the better.

Now it was Narcissa's turn to look puzzled.

Druella placed a hand under her chin, tilting it upwards so that their eyes met.

"You must always remember to love yourself and to take care of yourself and those you care about. People will tell you to do what is right or what you believe in but they will not be there to help you when it goes wrong. The only person you can truly trust to be there for you is yourself. So don't be afraid of being a little narcissistic."

Narcissa didn't think she had ever heard her mother speak quite so passionately about anything, and the tones of bitterness in her voice were a little chilling. But Narcissa did not ask her mother if there was anything wrong. They just didn't have that kind of relationship.

She watched her mother now, as she questioned why a smirking Bellatrix had nothing better to do than get under their feet. It had been good advice that she had given all those years ago.

Once she had started at Hogwarts, Narcissa quickly learnt that she could not rely on her friends. They were shallow and selfish, and perhaps that was why she had chosen them as friends. It was harder to learn that she could not even trust her family. She and her sisters had always been close, but Andromeda's betrayal had once again brought home her mother's advice; The only person you can truly trust to be there for you is yourself.

And perhaps that was why she had chosen to marry Lucius. He was the first man she had met who seemed to understand that. Other men who had courted her had proclaimed their adoration and begged her to trust them completely, to put her faith into their love for her, and that had just made her feel uncomfortable.

Lucius was... different.

He did not expect her to make ridiculous promises. He did not try to see behind the cold facade of aristocratic perfection that she had maintained for so long, she no longer knew if anything lay beneath.

Yet their marriage would not be entirely based on money, influence and status, as many seemed to think it would. There was love there too, Narcissa knew. Just neither of them felt the need to show that to the rest of the world.

Most of all, Lucius understood her. He would never criticise her for living up to her name, because he thought the exact same way that she did.

ooo

At the reception later that evening, Druella watched her precious, youngest daughter, the only one of the three she thought she had ever really understood, as she spun in elegant circles with her new husband in the centre of the ballroom. She had once been there. The beautiful young bride to a rich new husband, who would supposedly ensure that she would be happy and contented for the rest of her life. Surrounded by hundreds of others who just wished they could be her.

Yet now Druella sat alone, pretending not to notice that Cygnus had just disappeared with a woman who couldn't be much older than their daughters. Pretending not to notice the tangible absence of their middle daughter whom Druella had failed to pay much attention to until it was far, far too late. Pretending not to notice that her eldest daughter had slipped out hours ago, clutching her forearm to throw away her life for a man who would never love her back.

And she prayed that Narcissa would at least have the courage to put herself first, so that she wouldn't end up like her mother; trapped, as she watched everything around her crumble, but too afraid to help herself out of the hell she had found herself in.