You sat at the long, polished Slytherin table in the Great Hall, the morning sun filtering through the enchanted ceiling, casting a soft glow over the room. The usual buzz of conversation and the clinking of silverware surrounded you, as other Slytherins in your year chatted. Narcissa Black sat beside you, her presence poised and elegant, as always.

She ate her breakfast with quiet elegance, her posture straight, movements graceful, a stark contrast to her sisters. Though you and Narcissa weren't particularly close, there was a mutual understanding between you. She wasn't the type to chat endlessly or force conversation, which you appreciated. As you stared blankly at your untouched plate, pushing the scrambled eggs around with your fork, your mind wandered, your appetite non-existent this morning.

Narcissa, always observant, looked away from her breakfast and glanced at you, her pale blue eyes studying your expression. "Are you not eating?" she asked, her tone calm but curious. "Why not?" There was no judgment in her voice, just a faint hint of concern hidden beneath her usual composed demeanor.