Author's Notes: Written for Challenge #535 – "disguise" – on femslash100 on LiveJournal, and for the "Angst" category of the Harry Potter Femmeslash Project Challenge on the HPFC forum.

)O(

After Narcissa's nineteenth birthday passed and she was married off to Lucius Malfoy and finally became the mistress of her own house, she attended parties for one reason and one reason alone: to see her sister.

Narcissa loved masked balls especially, for when she wore a mask, it disguised the sidelong glances she cast at her sister.

Narcissa stood a bit apart from the dancing and watched Bellatrix with a combination of longing and jealousy. Bellatrix looked so beautiful there in Rodolphus's arms – the absolute ideal for how a girl should look. Narcissa should have been pleased that her sister was so perfect, and yet she felt nothing but resentment. What wouldn't she have given to be the one Bellatrix was dancing with, to be able to rest her head on her sister's shoulders and move against her…

"Are you all right, Narcissa?" Lucius asked from behind her and Narcissa whipped around. She raised her mask quickly to obscure the flush rising on her cheeks.

"Oh, fine, fine," she said with the closest facsimile of airiness that she could manage. She rested her hand on Lucius's shoulder and smiled up at him, but inside, she was wishing that she could put her hand on her sister like this. Dance with her sister like this.

Love her sister like this.

)O(

Fin