A little Curse by the name of Angel...

Disclaimer: I in no way own any of JK Rowling\'s characters, plots, places or situations. :D But it\'s sure nice of her to let me play with them!

A/N:

I\'ve seen a LOT of bad mary sue fics, where I would read hte first chapter and imagine the real reactions... Okay, so I\'m not JK Rowling, and I\'m not great with characters either. But one provoked me, because it seemed to really ... mold the Malfoys into something new. And it irked me, as well as the \'I am so perfect! girl\'. So here we go!
As Mary Sue as this girl will be, and I\'m warning, she will be a Mary Sue... I\'ll still do my best to get all the other information right- Characters, facts, locations, ect. That\'s the point of this. :D What if there really WAS a Mary Sue, as horrible and as pretty as Gilderoy Lockhart? At least, she was in her own mind? And she was shoved in the arms of long negelected Narcissa?

:D

Edit: I should explain- I named her Angel, because it was the short of Angelina. (A name I first thought up for her.) But she\'d pick something that\'s unlike her name... so it was either keep Angel or Angelina. :)

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Albus Dumbledore paced up and down... in the confines of the frames. As a painting, he was nothing of the real Albus... but still, there were quirks and habits always visible. Narcissa watched him idly, while her manicured fingernails danced around unconsciously in her lap.

Her mind raced underneath the pale calm face set in the stone-expression, going over the past day. Not too long ago, she\'d received an owl. It was from Gringots, a letter had been discovered addressed to \'The Malfoys\' in his vault. Her instructions were to come to the school and to receive it from the Headmistress. Naturally Narcissa had been suspicious. She\'d heard that Hogwarts wasn\'t opening, that it was finished. And her son was a wanted villian. Someone had witnessed the attack... all of Narcissa\'s attempts at protecting her son were thrown away. She knew her husband\'s heart and the dark sadistic side that he\'d always pushed onto Draco, and she knew her sister\'s encouragement since leaving Azkaban, but she also knew her own. No mother wished for their son to learn how to murder, torture and rape...

In some ways, Narcissa admitted that she\'d envied and admired Andromeda. Her sister had resisted taming the dark brown curls, Narcissa could remember how she\'d as a little girl catch a spark of something wild in Andromeda\'s eyes as they played and wondering. It almost thrilled her... her sister was so different from the elder Bellatrix. Bellatrix confined her mind and heart behind her eyes, and there was never a time that Narcissa caught a hint of Bella\'s darker desires. But with Andromeda... there was always that spark, and always the irrating question of, \'What\'s she thinking?\'

Draco was like his father, and not like Andromeda. Perhaps that had been what made Narcissa uneasy in public, what spoiled her usually wonderful actress skills and made her scoul without feeling it. The way her son and her husband seemed to look like brothers, their eyes, the chills that came if one looked into the grey eyes of each for too long. Her love never faultered for Draco, but her trust often found itself turning into a sort of fear as he grew. Lucius, at first with sweet words and gestures, had started the same. Big eyes, sweet words, beautiful face. The \'suggestion\' her parents made towards marriage had seemed like a godsend. Narcissa had dreamed of romance, of roses, and silk, and lavender. Of tender love making, and an undying love... exactly as Andromeda had found.

It didn\'t take long for the fairytale to end, and for Narcissa to discover more of Lucius than she wished to know. He took pleasure in blood, and beating, and causing her to wince as she was manipulated by his hands. The pregnancy had been a relief, for Lucius had never touched her or any other woman. She\'d stay in her room, whispering love and promises of a mother\'s protection from harm. But he\'d been born, and Lucius made sure he\'d never father again...

But as wife of a D.E., there were perks. Money, clothing, comfort. And the sex eased off. He was satisfied for a lot of the time, although it had taken a while for Narcissa to understand why. She was distracted with her child, a tiny babe with curls like Andromeda\'s curls, eyes wide and curious, who would cry if he saw the death of a creature, who would tear up at the tiniest scratch. Lucius had seen him once cry when he scraped his knee, and although Narcissa protested that it was normal, the Malfoy training began. From then on, Draco and her rarely saw each other, his hair grew long and pale, and the tender child that she\'d nurse and wrap in silk and pour her love and loneliness into became a Malfoy.

Sometimes, Narcissa was afraid that she\'d never see that baby again. And sometimes, she wondered if she hated her husband for preventing her from having one child for her to love. Did he worry that it would become like Andromeda, like Sirius, like her great-grandfather, or her father? Blood traitor. Draco was not that, Narcissa knew, but she wasn\'t sure if that was a fact she wanted to be proud of. But in the end, it wouldn\'t matter what her feelings were. Draco was a young man now. He had to decide what was right and wrong for himself. He had left home, and she was even denied the barely-bareable presence of her husband...

Never had the youngest of the Black sisters felt more lonely.

But then, the letter hadn\'t been about that. And even if it had, Narcissa had nothing to say. She herself hadn\'t seen her son since. That was partly why she braved to come- There was nothing of interest to learn from her. Her husband was locked away, her son had been hidden from her, and although Narcissa now had the protection of Voldemort, there was a feeling of uneasoness stiring in her heart.

A sound made Narcissa jump out of her seat, and Dumbledore jump into the blackness and vanish into the painting. She pulled a wand out. She found herself staring at a young teenage girl, who was standing there looking at the tip of Narcissa\'s wand with huge eyes. But she didn\'t speak a word.

The wand was hidden again, and Narcissa stared coolly at the girl. She didn\'t reply quickly, using the moment to take in the girl and allow the younger one to know who was more important here.

The girl was thin, pale and wide eyed. It was enough for Narcissa to see that her eyes were an odd shade of blue... or were they green? The light made it impossible to tell. Her hair wasn\'t well kept at all, a tangle of messy dark blonde-red curls that fell carelessly down the girl\'s back where she\'d tamed it somewhat with a muggle-style pin. And her clothes... well, Narcissa had the irritable urge to pull out the wand and transfigure them straight away. MUGGLE. And not even particularly a nice style, all ragged and loose.

The door opened again, and a rather hassled looking McGongall came in. She waved at both of them, as she moved around the office towards her chair. \"Sit, both of you.\"

Narcissa returned to her seat, not bothering to hide her distaste as the girl just slumped beside her in the other chair.

\"Mrs Malfoy,\" The Headmistress pushed a letter towards her. \"If you wish privacy, there\'s a...\"

\"No, thankyou.\" Narcissa replied at once, voice cool. She opened the letter without another word, ignoring the curious looks from whoever was beside her. Why that girl was here though, was a mystery. One that Narcissa intended on finding out from this letter, if her suspicious were correct.

The letter was rolled tight, and had three large blank areas on the letter.

\"To the Dear Malfoys.

Firstly, if you are reading this, then I am dead. My first message would be to Draco Malfoy...\"

The page\'s script started to write then, but failed to fill the blank area. Narcissa knew it was supposed to only show to the person it was addressed to, so continued down.

\"And then to Lucius Malfoy,\"

This time, the scribbling didnt\' last longer than a sentence. Narcissa didn\'t allow herself to dwell on what that could possibly mean, continuing onto the last part.

\"And finally, to Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy.
I watched you as you came to Hogwarts, Narcissa. I saw you grow from a girl into a woman, in a few short years... You never listened to warnings, you were above all, you were the last and the prettiest... as you saw yourself. I never failed to attempt to guide you, as I do all students... But I fear I did fail, in the end.
For that, I apologise.
But I may give one last attempt- Don\'t give into your fear. Don\'t be afraid to come out of the shadows and into the light. It is never too late.\"

Narcissa didn\'t react. She just stared at it wordlessly, allowing it to continue onto the next part. Inheritance.

\"All I can leave you with, Narcissa, is Naomi. She prefers to be called Angel. You\'ll find that she possesses her sister\'s gifts, but sadly, not her personality... and that you will have much to distract yourself with. Do not let Lucius near her. I trust you to not let him near her...
And, with the request of all who have talked with her, she will not speak a word till she returns to her new home.\"

The letter ended, without so much of a signature. And Narcissa was left, with the lingering feeling of magic binding her to the wishes of the will...

And a muggle-clad teenager now in her hands.

Headmistress McGongall seemed to relax tremendously as they left...