PART 1: Remember When We Were Raised in Blood?
Narcissa Black was going to be the most ruthless Slytherin ever.
Narcissa Black had two older sisters: Andromeda (who, with a flick of her wand, could charm the soul out of a Dementor if she wanted to), and Bellatrix (who could consume the soul like a Dementor if she wanted to).
Bellatrix, the eldest, was the one to go to for fun. She created with the adventures, the battles, the victories. She was a hurricane, a bolt of lightning that struck fields and set them ablaze. She set fire to Narcissa's soul.
Andy was different. When she laughed, it was from wonder and not at the expense of others. She created healing balms with her words; she was a warm hug and cool water. She was the only person to whom Narcissa could give her soul and know that she would keep it safe, cherish it, fill in the cracks and polish it until it shone. More than Bellatrix, more than her father, more than her mother.
As for Narcissa Black herself: she was small and quiet, but her eyes were quick, her wand was quicker, and her mind was quickest. Narcissa Black was proud of her blood. Since her infancy she had been told of the sacredness of magic and the importance of its conservation within bloodlines.
"Apes." Bella showed her forbidden pictures from forbidden shops. When they visited their aunt and uncle she snuck her away from their family members to point out forbidden objects through the curtains of the windows that opened on Muggle streets. "Apes, the lot of them."
"Don't they ever ring at the door?" Narcissa watched with wide eyes as a Muggle lad stopped at the curb in front of the house, looking around him with a bewildered expression.
"Of course not, silly." Narcissa was one of the few people whom Bellatrix never called stupid. "There are Confundus and illusion charms all around here. Look, he's run into one." Bellatrix snickered as the Muggle lad stared into space, blank-eyed and slack-jawed, scratching behind one ear. "Let's go out."
"Go out?" Narcissa repeated in horror. "Out on the street?"
But Bellatix had already slipped out of the door. Narcissa glanced over her shoulder and went after her.
"Look at him," said Bellatrix with her lip curling in disgust. "Have you ever seen such idiocy? Here," she threw a small object into the air and caught it again. "Shall we toss this at him?"
"No!" said Narcissa immediately.
"Why not?" snickered Bellatrix. "Too soft-hearted?"
"Because we'll get into trouble," said Narcissa firmly. "Let's go back inside."
"No," said Bellatrix casually, winding up her arm.
"Bella!" Andromeda appeared through the doorway and grabbed her arm. "Stop it!"
Bellatrix wrenched her arm away. "Back off, Andy. It's not like he'll notice a difference; he already smells bad enough."
"He doesn't smell at all," said Andromeda, eyes glaring and furious. "And do you think Aunt Walburga won't care if you start throwing dungbombs on her front lawn? Leave him alone!"
Bellatrix and Andromeda grappled, ending with Andromeda drawing her wand and stinging Bellatrix's hand so that she dropped the dungbomb. Andromeda caught it.
"I'm telling!" snarled Bellatrix, rubbing her hand. "How dare you!"
"If you tell Mum, I'll tell her you went outside on a Muggle street," Andromeda threatened.
Bellatrix stuck out her tongue and slouched back inside. "Come on, Cissy."
Andromeda looked at Narcissa with sad eyes. Narcissa was quite in agreement with Andy this time, but as she wasn't supposed to be outside either, she quickly followed the eldest Black sister inside.
"Be nice to them," Andy said a day or so later, bending over Narcissa as she lay on her stomach looking at the moving pictures in a family photo album. "They can't help it if they're stupid."
"Do whatever you like," countered Bella as she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. "You can't cater to the lives of apes – we're witches." Narcissa wished they would stop bickering just because Andy had stopped Bella from throwing a dungbomb. She sighed and turned a page in the album.
"They're not apes," protested Andy.
"Well, they're not human," insisted Bella. "They're like goblins, or giants, or ogres, only worse – they can't do magic at all."
"They're not so different."
"Would you marry one, Andy?" said Bellatrix smugly, as if that settled the matter. You couldn't intermarry with another species, after all.
Andy sidestepped the question. She threw a furtive glance at the door. "I've met one," she whispered. "A Muggle. That one on the street at Aunt's. He was dressed funny, but he was nice—"
"YOU TALKED TO THE MUGGLE?" Bellatrix shrieked and ran from the room.
Andy was after her like a bolt of lightning. "BELLA!"
"ANDY TALKED TO A MUGGLE! MUM! ANDY TALKED TO A MUGGLE!"
Narcissa rolled her eyes and looked back at the album. They were both being silly, though she did feel a prickle of horror at the idea of Andy standing next to and speaking to the Muggle. "Muggle" was a dirty word: a poisonous word: one to be spoken in a soft or giggly voice if you were young and innocent, or in a loud and disgusted one if you were older. It was the forbidden subject reserved for political circles and Grandfather Pollux's sideways winks and jokes that always raised mother's ire. Why bother with a dirty word? Narcissa preferred to study the Pureblood Directory and plan her life accordingly.
Distant shouts from their mother.
"It wasn't on purpose," sobbed Andy.
"Don't you know what it would do to our family reputation if my daughters were seen associating with—"
"We weren't seen, it was just for a minute, I was outside and he'd gotten lost and asked me for directions—he'd run into a Confundus charm and was very bewildered—I was just helping him go away and get back home—"
"That's what the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee is for!"
Andy walked about for days afterwards with red eyes and a sulky expression. Bella looked rather self-satisfied. "Andy's too much of a pushover, Cissy," she said wisely. "She'll listen to anybody if they'll be nice to her. We have to make sure she doesn't hurt herself."
Both Bellatrix and Andy got shouted it at fairly regularly—though Andy bore the brunt of it. Narcissa was rarely criticized by her parents. Not because she was babied, but because there wasn't much in her to criticize. She was born sophisticated and with the innate soul of a cold, pureblood aristocrat.
Bellatrix continued Narcissa's education on family matters in the Painting Room, where their family tree was animated on all four walls. (Such a room was a Black tradition. Their cousins had a similar room, but it was of tapestries, and it was not animated.) Portraits waved out at them and the leaves fluttered in invisible breezes. Bellatrix had her arm around Narcissa, holding her so close that their cheeks touched when they bent close to examine a name near the baseboards.
"These are the untainted ones," said Bella, even though Narcissa already knew. "We'll marry into one of the Twenty-Eight families, though of course we have to watch out for blood traitors—Cedrella," Bella ran her finger along the branches to a portrait that had been covered with black paint. "She's our 1st cousin, twice removed—she married a Weasley and they're blood traitors—Great Great Grandmother Iola actually mated with a Muggle—"
"Eugh," said Narcissa, shuddering.
"Married," interrupted Andy as she passed through the room with a disdainful look on her face.
"Mated," repeated Bellatrix. "You can't marry a Muggle."
"What about muggle-borns?" asked Andy innocently.
"Mudbloods have magic, but they're not like us," said Narcissa helpfully. "You know that, Andy."
"Apes beget apes," said Bella. "So what if they're a little more human than normal?"
"Lots of wizards disagree, you know," said Andy. "There are tons of people talking about it. They say—"
"Numbers don't matter," snarled Bellatrix. "Ants can collectively decide it's right for them to build their nests in your bedroom but that doesn't mean they should or can—we have the power, we have the money, we have the magic, we make the rules. Money and power—we are the influential, we are the ones who are right." She rounded suddenly on Andy. "How do you know what they say, anyway? Are you listening to Muggle Rights radio again?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella," said Andy in a smug voice that betrayed she knew exactly what Bellatrix was talking about, but Bellatrix didn't have any proof, so she couldn't do anything about it. And Andy swept from the room, somehow making her scrawny ten-year-old limbs look majestic, with just a hint of swagger.
"Poor Andy," said Bellatrix with eyes like fire. "We're going to have to stop her, Cissy. How are we going to stop her?"
Narcissa didn't have an answer. She looked at the family tree again. "I'm going to marry someone very wealthy and very powerful. And handsome," she added as an afterthought.
Bellatrix laughed. "Wealth and power – if you can get that, who cares what he looks like?"
When Narcissa Black was eleven, Andromeda was fourteen and Bellatrix was fifteen. Bellatrix showed her and the other first-years the common room her first night at Hogwarts, highlighting the windows to the lake and telling them excitedly that mermaids ("Real MERMAIDS, Cissy!") lived in the lake. But because it was Bellatrix, Narcissa wasn't fooled and when the skeletal, fish-like merpeople slapped up against the windows with their spears Narcissa Black just stood calmly at the glass, hands behind her back. The rest of the first-years jumped back and screamed and Bellatrix's laugh rang through the room and Andromeda passed with an exasperated, "Honestly, Bella."
And Bellatrix grinned and said, "Come on, Cissy," and showed her to her room.
It was Halloween night of her first year when Narcissa Black first properly saw Lucius Malfoy. She had spent the first two months quietly watching her fellow first-years, both in Slytherin and in the other houses, and making sure she understood her assignments for each class perfectly. She needed to know how people thought, and where people stood. That was how she knew where to insert herself into society.
But on Halloween night Narcissa Black already understood her immediate classmates and there was raucous laughter coming from further up the table. She sat very straight with her pumpkin juice goblet exactly one inch above her dinner knife and her silver fork in hand. She leaned over ever so slightly and looked down the table. And there was a boy with shining blond hair slicked back from his forehead. He stood on the bench, one knee bent, one hand in his robes, the other gesturing in the air. He was talking about the upcoming Quidditch match, and Narcissa realized that it was the Quidditch team that was sitting in front of him, on the other side of the table. The speech was eloquent, it was inspiring, and it made everybody laugh—it sounded like a speech that would be given by a fifteen-year-old at least; this boy didn't look much older than herself. At the end of the boy's oratory, saluting Slytherin's undeniable upcoming victory, the hand in his robes withdrew his wand and with a flourish he sent up a firework of sparks that formed a moving, hissing snake before it rained down like confetti over the pudding. The whole table burst into applause and the boy sat down amid many shoulder- and back-pattings with a serene smile that quirked to one side of his mouth.
"Who is that?" Narcissa Black whispered to her closest acquaintance, Lillian Burke, who could be counted on to know these sorts of things.
"That's Lucius Malfoy," sighed Lillian, propping her head on her hand and gazing at Lucius Malfoy with doe eyes. "He's a second-year."
Narcissa Black looked over at the Gryffindor table. They looked rather sour.
Narcissa Black was twelve and studying in the library with Andromeda, who was taking her OWLs that year. Despite her extreme business and stress, she willingly put down her work when Narcissa whispered questions to her about a particularly difficult lesson. She patiently demonstrated the engorgement charm over and over as Narcissa scribbled pages upon pages of notes in the little leather study book that Andromeda had given her until Narcissa could perform the charm herself. In the midst of this session, Bellatrix came skipping in not to study with them but to say in a not-at-all-quiet voice and with a not-at-all-quiet laugh, "Do you know who just invited me to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him?"
"Shh," said Andromeda, pushing aside her own notes for the fifteenth time and brushing hair back from her eyes as she gave Bellatrix her full attention. "Who?"
Bellatrix squatted near the floor and in only a slightly-quieter voice said, "Lucius Malfoy!" and she started laughing again.
"You didn't say yes, did you?" said Andromeda, sounding very surprised.
"Of course I did," said Bellatrix. "He's so horrendously funny, asking me when he's only thirteen! Came up and bowed, promised to pick me up and walk me there and everything. I couldn't turn him down after that."
Narcissa Black turned the page in her book and wrote another note in her leather study-book and pretended she hadn't heard.
Narcissa Black was admired by many, surrounded by girls in her year and below at all times, but she did not have any friends. She had many people she was loyal to, and that were loyal to her, and she thought that's all that friends were. Friends, she thought, were the people she watched, understood, and spoke to carefully until they reached an agreement. She knew how people felt; she knew the right words to say, the right gestures to make, when to smile, when to scowl, but she felt like all of her fellow students were pretty silly. She felt affection for them – especially the simpletons, like Lillian Burke and Mattie Shafiq (an over-eager, excitable student a year below herself)—but she did not let them in. She was a Black, and that meant she was superior, as her mother had told her over and over. And so her private soul remained private, a carefully packaged gift that she kept to herself and to Andy. She didn't know she was doing it, and she didn't know that if it weren't for Andy, who held her soul carefully and washed it clean, she would be extremely unhappy.
The rest of the school didn't know it either, with the possible exception of Andromeda Black.
Narcissa Black was sophisticated. Narcissa Black had natural exquisite blonde hair when the rest of her family was dark. Narcissa Black earned good marks and was never upset by muggle-borns and half-bloods; she only looked at them with disdain and turned away. In her world, they did not exist. Her insults disguised as dry comments made everybody laugh. Narcissa Black was only too willing to give calm advice to naturally awkward girls on how to hold themselves up, but they never quite achieved her rank. Narcissa Black had the perfect smile for her followers and the perfect look of repulsion for those whose bloodlines did not line up to her standards.
Narcissa Black hugged her leather-bound notebook to her chest and looked with concern and discomfort at Andy when she passed surrounded by her friends of tainted blood, laughing and chattering. Narcissa crept after these gutter-rats in the hall, setting traps and sending the strongest jinxes she could muster in their direction. But it didn't do any good-they were weaving their slimy tendrils around Andy's ankles and dragging her down, and she was too kind to realize it was happening.
Narcissa Black was not ashamed to ask for help with her schoolwork, but she only asked for help from worthy people.
"Please, Andromeda, I don't understand this charm."
"Professor, could you go over that potion with me please?"
"Bellatrix, the half-blood insulted Lillian again. Teach me that hex you used last year, would you? It's time he lost a week in the hospital wing."
Andy was distraught; one of her gutter-rats had had a severe allergic reaction to they didn't know what and had to live out the rest of the year in St Mungo's, just to be sure. Narcissa Black was horrified, and she spent hours that night in the corner of the abandoned common room with her arms around her legs, her forehead pressed against her knees, rocking and rocking and rocking. Andy somehow knew she was down there, and she came and begged Narcissa to tell her what was wrong. Narcissa shook her head and told a half-fictional story about loneliness, and Andy tried to comfort her.
And Narcissa only half-listened, as she thought about the face of the mudblood who had gone to the hospital wing, and wondered what would happen if anybody decided to search her wand and found the dark magic there.
But she was not sorry.
In Narcissa Black's second and third years, and Bellatrix's sixth and seventh, Bellatrix began to invite her to hang out with her friends. Bellatrix was surrounded by a group of influential Slytherins that was made up of several people, but the primary members were the LeStrange brothers, Travers, Selwyn, and Lucius Malfoy. They hung about in the common room, practicing hexes, laughing and talking. A favorite subject, one that was always treated with reverence and awe and the deepest respect, was the rise of the Lord Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy liked to take up one couch by himself, laying on his back with one leg crossed over the other and one hand behind his head, flicking his wand about lazily, generally blowing apart teacups and other small objects and then repairing them before the shards hit the ground.
"This is only temporary," he said of his wand once, turning his head to address Travers. "When I inherit Malfoy Manor I'll also inherit an extremely ancient wand, over a thousand years old. It was created for the Malfoys especially, but it's so old we've lost the name of the original owner. It never really chose my father, but I expect it'll choose me."
Lillian Burke, when she could, squeezed into these circles, claiming to want to spend time with Narcissa but only having eyes for Lucius. "Narcissa," she whispered one night when they were in their beds. They were thirteen, which meant Lucius was fourteen. "What do I do? How do I get him to notice me? You understand boys, surely."
Narcissa had very little patience for this sort of talk. Romance, as far as she was concerned, was simply a political and cultural ritual. And she had no desire to pass on any of her knowledge of the ritual to Lillian, who was a bit of an airhead. "Tell him," she said curtly, turning over on her side to signal the end of the conversation.
And the next week, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, Lillian went up to Lucius as he sat on his normal couch, his back propped up against the arm and new black, dragon-skin boots on his feet. He was practicing a complicated charm that wove feathers in and out of each other in a magical dance in midair.
"Lucius," said Lillian breathlessly. "Do you remember me?"
Lucius glanced very briefly in her direction before returning his gaze to his feathers. "Lillian Burke." Lillian beamed and she made eye contact with Narcissa, who was holding an open newspaper in front of her face and pretending not to watch. He knows my name! she mouthed at Narcissa. Narcissa raised her eyebrows.
"You're very good at that," Lillian purred. "I think you're the most talented boy in your year – no, in Slytherin – no, in all of Hogwarts!"
"Thank you," said Lucius, with that one corner of his mouth quirking.
Lillian blushed furiously. "I like you a lot."
"Do you?" said Lucius in a distracted way. "That's nice." He flung his wand up and the feathers arched in a long line, then dive-bombed Lucius's face. But before reaching it, they spun into a very tight spiral and disappeared with a crack. Narcissa thought Lucius's response was very unsatisfactory, but Lillian clamped her hands to her mouth and looked like she might have a fit and pass out from pure joy. Narcissa hid behind her newspaper.
"He didn't reject me!" Lillian squealed to Narcissa in their room. "That means he must like me too, right?"
Narcissa doubted that he particularly liked Lillian, based on the unconcerned look on his face and nonchalant answer, but she shrugged and said, "He doesn't dislike you, anyway."
Lillian took to following Lucius around whenever she could, which was mainly at mealtimes and in the evenings. She either smiled at him adoringly or gibbered nonsensically. Lucius smiled at her a good deal, but Narcissa thought it was a rather pacifying smile. He was always polite, never told her off or seemed annoyed, thanked her gravely for her compliments and even bestowed a few of his own when appropriate. "Is that a new pin?" he asked her one day when she sprang up from the table at breakfast and ran over to sit beside him as he took a seat. She blushed and nodded and fingered the serpentine pin on her robes. "I like it, good choice."
In the evenings, Lillian delighted in sitting on the floor, her arms and chin propped up on the couch seat or arm, begging him to show her pieces of his skilled spellwork. "Do the birds again, Lucius," she simpered. Narcissa, her head again behind her newspaper, ignored them both. That is, until something tore at her paper. Narcissa jumped and looked up. A miniature bluebird clambered to sit on the edge of the paper, twittering. She frowned and lowered the paper.
"Whoops," said Lucius, grinning. He summoned the bird back and snatched it out of the air. When he opened his hand a marble sat in his palm. Lillian giggled and cheered and clapped her hands.
Andromeda showed Narcissa the Astronomy tower at night, and how you could lean out of the windows and brace yourself against the railings and feel like you were floating on air while you looked up at the stars. They had whispered conversations there in the cool of the night.
"I saw you talking to Lucius Malfoy the other day."
"We didn't talk. I said hello. He said hello back."
"He seems nice. Always in command of the common room."
"He has nice boots."
"Yes, nice boots. But he is a bit of an arrogant sod."
Narcissa thought about this. "I'm a bit of an arrogant sod."
Andy laughed. "No you're not, Cis." Narcissa didn't bother correcting her. "What do you think about him?"
Narcissa shrugged. "He's popular," was her answer.
It was late in Narcissa Black's third year before Lucius Malfoy properly saw her.
Narcissa had worked for two hours with Andromeda on a particularly difficult Charms homework assignment, and then she had read the newspaper. But Lucius Malfoy, for once, sat and did not command all the attention of the room. Instead he abandoned his normal, central couch and sat to one side of the fire, almost exactly across from her, watching his friends Selwyn and Travers re-enact a particularly amusing tussle between the Slytherin Quidditch team and the Hufflepuffs, with a vague smile on his face. Narcissa thought his eyes were maybe a little red, but that could have just been the reflection of the fire. Lillian had given up trying to get Lucius to perform charms or talk to her, and so had gone off in a huff with Mattie Shafiq. The common room gradually emptied. At last, with a sigh, Lucius Malfoy slumped down, feet outstretched, and stared into the fire.
Narcissa Black watched him for several long minutes, then she lowered the paper to her lap with a rustling sound. Lucius Malfoy glanced up and they looked at each other. Then Narcissa said, feeling blood pounding in her cheeks, "I'm sorry about your mother."
Lucius's eyes widened a bit, and he stared curiously at her. After another moment he said, "Thank you," then he stood up quickly and went to the boys' dormitory. Narcissa put the paper on the table, her heart beating very fast. A small headline on the paper read, Mrs. Abraxas Malfoy Sudden Death.
Right before finals week in Narcissa Black's third year and Bellatrix's seventh, Narcissa took her books to the empty classroom that Andromeda often used for studying and stopped dead at the sounds of furious shouting coming from inside.
"I don't see why you're so upset, Bella!"
"Because you are becoming an embarrassment, that's why!"
"I will choose my own friends, Bella, and you can choose yours."
"Look at Cissy. Even she knows to keep better company than you do."
"My friends are wizards."
"Your friends are Mudbloods!"
"Some of them are. And some of them are half-bloods, and some of them are purebloods. What's it to you?"
"When I'm gone, there won't be someone around to cover up for you—or are you going to force that responsibility on Cissy?"
Narcissa Black slipped into the shadows, ears ringing. She'd assumed that half-bloods and Mudbloods stayed around Andromeda because she was simply too soft-spoken and gentle-eyed to drive them away. But to hear her sisters tell it, Andy was encouraging the contact. Narcissa Black didn't know what to think. She twisted her hands and swallowed the knots in her throat.
She entered the classroom after Bellatrix had left and began to study next to her sister, pouring through her notes in the last few pages of her leather study book, trying to act as though nothing had happened.
"Narcissa," said Andy at last. "What would you do if I stayed friends with Muggle-borns forever?"
"Well," Narcissa turned a page in her book, her soul suddenly hurting. "I suppose we'd have to disown you."
"Cissy," said Bellatrix on September 1st 1969, the first day of Narcissa's fourth year, before they left for the station. "Look after Andromeda, will you? Try to get her involved in my friend group – the ones that haven't graduated, all right?"
"Of course, Bella," said Narcissa Black. "I'm not going to let our sister run off with Mudbloods and hurt herself." She paused. "You're going to go join Lord Voldemort, aren't you?"
Bellatrix was surprised, and impressed.
Narcissa Black was fourteen before she properly met Lucius Malfoy. He was the new prefect, and Narcissa Black noted how well situated the badge was on his shiny new robes and how he had grown up and his hair had grown out over the summer; it was past his shoulders, and still gleaming. He walked up and down the table during the great feast, taking time to eat with the different years (even the ones above him), especially the first-years. He assured them all that they could come to him with any questions and look up to him for any answers. He flattered the sixth- and seventh- year girls until they giggled (Andromeda was deep in conversation with another studious girl and they paid him no mind) and the sixth- and seventh-year boys laughed. He bowed to the first-year girls and shook the hands of the first-year boys and made them all feel like full-grown wizards and proud Slytherins and they hadn't even had their first lessons.
He sat down on the opposite side of the table where the fourth-years were sitting. Lillian Burke immediately began blushing and sidled closer to him, pushing several others out of her way until Lucius noticed her and said, "Oh, hello, Lillian." Narcissa Black watched him the entire time he stayed there, his legs crossed, his fingers drumming on the table, gallantly taking compliments, and dispelling rumors that he was going to be on the Quidditch team this year ("I really am focused on more political pursuits"). He looked at Narcissa and smiled. Narcissa Black waited for a brief pause in the conversation and then asked, "How do you become a prefect?"
"Looking to get the job next year?" asked Lucius. "Be sure to befriend your professors, work hard in class, and show yourself to be a leader among your peers and beyond."
In the common room that night, as Narcissa Black sat reading the newspaper as usual, Lucius Malfoy completed the walking tour for the first-years and he sat down in the chair next to her. She stared at the page, not reading, and waited for him to speak first.
"You're Bellatrix's little sister, aren't you? Narcissa?"
She put down the paper and looked at him. "That's right."
He stood up and gave a little bow. "I'm Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy."
Narcissa let him see her smile. She remained seated but extended her hand. She was going to shake his hand, but he instead kissed hers, bowing and flaring his cloak back with his free hand as he did so. Narcissa was positive he was doing it for dramatic emphasis, but it looked entirely coincidental and natural. She waited for him to look up again before she said, still smiling politely, "I know."
Lucius smiled back. His little sideways quirk of the mouth was still there, but less evident. Narcissa would have bet several Galleons that he practiced in the mirror. "We're gathering in the old Potions classroom to talk after class tomorrow," he said. "You should come."
"I'll be there," said Narcissa.
"You should come with me so I am not by myself," said Narcissa to Andromeda the next day.
Andromeda frowned, looking at her suspiciously. "You are afraid of going by yourself?"
"No," said Narcissa. "I want you to become more attached to purebloods so you stop spending time with half-bloods and Muggle-borns."
Andromeda's frown deepened, but she came, and she didn't say anything while the group debated about who was in Lord Voldemort's inner circle and who wasn't and what his next move was going to be. Narcissa didn't say anything either, but for the first time she sat as part of the group and not part of Bellatrix's shadow, listening and watching. Lucius Malfoy was not the oldest in the group, but he was the center, and when he spoke everybody listened.
In December, over lunch, Lucius Malfoy slid onto the bench opposite her in the Great Hall. Narcissa Black politely set down her quill and looked at him.
"Hello, Black."
"Hello, Malfoy."
"I heard you got Leonard Sullivan twenty hours of detention in Charms yesterday."
"He was cheating," said Narcissa Black. "Penelope Thomas was sending him notes under the desk during our midterm. And he had the nerve to claim that he, as a Muggle-born, had more natural talent than all of the purebloods in the rest of Gryffindor house." She didn't mention that he was also a leech attached to Andy.
Lucius Malfoy looked impressed.
Just before the winter holidays, Slughorn had another Christmas Party. Lucius Malfoy did not ask Narcissa Black to come with him.
He did ask Georgia Parkinson. Lillian Burke was crushed.
The Slytherin Political Club (as it had unofficially been dubbed) had a long, intense, three-hour meeting over the Easter Holidays. There had just been a savage attack on several well-known families of mixed blood. Nobody seemed to know who had done it for certain, but everybody seemed to know who was responsible.
"What's going to happen now?" was the question of the day, and everybody argued for a long time.
"Isn't it obvious?" said Narcissa Black at last, and she spoke so seldom that everybody stopped instantly and turned to look at her with expressions of surprise. She waited, looking at each one of their faces in turn. Then she said, "He's going to declare himself our new Lord and start a revolution against the Ministry." She folded her hands in her lap and smiled politely.
The other Slytherins looked impressed at her confidence and guts in making such a bold declaration, if not entirely convinced. Lucius Malfoy had a very peculiar look on his face.
Narcissa slipped out of the castle, tucking her scarf into her coat as she hurried down the hill. She was escaping the presence of Mattie Shafiq, the overly-enthusiastic third-year who had decided to dog her every footstep. Normally Narcissa was very gracious and tolerant of her fans, but Mattie giggled too much and demanded too much attention, instead of just staring attentively and shyly making requests. So Narcissa headed across the snow-covered hills to the Quidditch field. It was not where she spent much time normally, so it was the ideal hiding place. She climbed up to the long lines of empty, wooden seats, ducking her head as a Slytherin player whizzed over her head and went into an impressive dive. She stood there with her hands in her pockets and her scarf over her mouth watching the team practice.
"Black?"
Narcissa caught her breath and turned. Lucius Malfoy was sitting a small space away. He had propped his feet up on the bench below and leaned against the bench above, smiling at her. The wind stung her face and Narcissa felt herself inexplicably blushing. Lucius's hair poked out from under his hat and stuck to his coat via static electricity.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Narcissa's mouth felt sticky and stiff. "Hello," she managed, voice muffled behind her scarf. What's wrong with me?
Lucius sat up. "Want to sit down?"
Narcissa walked over and sat down next to him. She regained her composure and pulled down her scarf. "What are you doing here?"
Lucius nodded at the Quidditch team, which had landed and were conversing in a circle. "Laughalot wanted me here. Moral support, I guess. Wants me to speak to the team. We'll need to dominate Ravenclaw to get over the loss to Gryffindor."
"But you don't play Quidditch," said Narcissa.
Lucius looked offended. "That doesn't mean I don't know anything about it." He leaned back against the upper bench as before.
"No, of course," said Narcissa quickly, looking away as she flushed again, pretending to be interested in the Quidditch team as they rose into the air to practice another play. She resolved to keep her mouth shut and leave as soon as was socially acceptable, but Lucius ruined those plans by continuing the conversation.
"So what brings you to the Quidditch field today, Miss Black?"
Narcissa nibbled the inside of her lower lip. "I wanted some time alone."
"…oh."
She grimaced and turned, "No, I didn't mean – I wanted time away from my friends."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh."
Narcissa's face flamed. Any snow falling from the sky would have sizzled against her skin. Mortified, she stuttered, "Not that you're not—I mean—oh, Merlin." She gave up and put her face in her hands. To her astonishment and anger, Lucius laughed.
"I've never seen you embarrassed before, Black."
"I'm not embarrassed!" she said hotly from behind her gloves.
"No, of course you're not. Look, Gamp's spotted the snitch."
Narcissa peeked through her fingers and watched Gamp dive. He wobbled and spun and nearly crashed. He pulled himself up in time, but then promptly somersaulted in the air and fell off his broom.
"There's the problem," sighed Lucius. "That's why we're not winning the Cup this year. Our Seeker can't catch the Snitch even in practice….don't tell them I said that. I'm supposed to encourage them, not tell them they're hopeless."
Narcissa lowered her hands to her chin, but she refused to look at Lucius for several more minutes. He kept up a running commentary under his breath. "They ought to just put him out of the way—be a Beater, maybe—Fawley's good enough to protect the Seeker by himself, and if everybody else just dodges—what's the likelihood—" He sat up. Narcissa glanced at him as he pulled off his gloves and removed what looked like a pocket watch from his coat pocket. He opened it and twisted several knobs and gears, peering at the insides.
"It's a probability calculator," he said without looking at her. He shook his head, snapped it shut, and put it back in his pocket. "I don't think even switching Gamp to Beater would help."
"You could join," Narcissa said without thinking. "They'd let you."
"No," said Lucius. He leaned his chin on his clasped hands, eyes moving back and forth, following Gamp. "It really isn't my area."
"Why not?" asked Narcissa. "You look athletic enough." She bit her tongue and mentally slapped herself. Lucius didn't seem to notice she'd said anything potentially suggestive.
"Thanks. But no. Making last-minute switches wouldn't help morale, and with Gamp it's really just a confidence issue. Besides, I haven't been working with them all year. I'd just be in their way. I'm busy with other things anyway. There's a network of interested parties sending news back and forth about Lord Voldemort—things that the Daily Prophet won't print."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I can get you on it if you want."
"Yes, please." She was looking at him unashamedly now, unaware of her own staring. Similarly unaware, Lucius continued to frown at the Quidditch field. Narcissa realized what she was doing when he sat up straight again and she quickly looked away. Her gaze fell on his hand as it rested in his lap, still gloveless. On the fourth finger of his right hand he wore a silver ring. In its center was a delicately engraved serpent.
Lucius glanced at her, then down at his hand. "It's an heirloom," he said, holding it up for her inspection. "My father gave it to me. We've been in Slytherin for centuries, you know."
"It's lovely," said Narcissa. "Will you be giving it to your own son, then? If you have one?"
"Naturally," said Lucius. "And I had better have one. I'm the only Malfoy heir."
"That's right," said Narcissa thoughtfully. "You're an only child, aren't you?"
Lucius put his gloves back on, looking at her, puzzled. "How do you know that?"
"I study the Twenty-Eight family trees," she said. "It's a hobby of mine."
"Oh," he studied her. "Blood purity is important to you then?"
"Of course." It was Narcissa's turn to look offended.
"Do you have any brothers?"
"No," said Narcissa. "But I have two cousins – Regulus and Sirius – so we don't have to worry about Black dying out just yet."
"That's good." Lucius's gaze went back to the Quidditch team. "Laughalot's waving at me. Time for me to go work some magic—know any spells for Instantly-Improved-Seeker?"
Narcissa laughed.
It was the last day of fourth year, exams were over, and Narcissa Black walked in on Andromeda Black and Edward Tonks kissing in an empty classroom. They did not hear her, and they did not see her, so she stood watching, and then turned around and went to her dormitory. Everyone was outside. She returned to the common room a moment later with a little leather study book in her hand.
Lucius Malfoy entered, saw her, and immediately put down his bag. "Narcissa? What's wrong?"
Narcissa Black just shook her head. She went to the fire and, her insides shaking, placed the book in the flames. She stood and watched it slowly burn. Lucius came and stood beside her, saying nothing. When it was thoroughly scorched and the pages were ashes, Narcissa Black said, "I just lost my sister." And inside she felt a scathing rage that heated the wrenching grief hidden behind her eyes.
Lucius Malfoy put a hand on her shoulder.
Narcissa Black was fifteen when she turned beautiful. She was slender, and beautiful, and cold.
That summer, Lord Voldemort proclaimed himself the Dark Lord and began a revolution against the ministry. Narcissa read the news in the paper, but even if she hadn't she would have found out that same day because an owl came from the Malfoys.
Black, the letter read. You were right. He's begun.
The letter ran for a whole page, and then ended with,
If you want, you can spend the rest of the holidays at our manor. Rabastan Lestrange, along with Travers and Selwyn, will be there. My father has connections, and we're watching the events unfold as they happen.
She couldn't, though, because she had to stay for Bellatrix's wedding. Lucius seemed to have forgotten in his excitement that the reason Rodolphus LeStrange couldn't come to his manor with Rabastan was the same reason that Narcissa could not.
Bellatrix practically pranced the entire day of her wedding, but her eyes were lit with a fiery passion that had nothing to do with her new husband.
"I've met him, Cissy," she whispered fiercely when she had the snatch of a chance. "I've met the Dark Lord."
Narcissa learned much later that Andromeda and that Mudblood had also gotten married that summer. They sent a letter, but Cygnus, their father, destroyed it after reading its contents. He simply ordered everyone who had not already done so to dissociate from Andromeda. He did not tell them why.
Narcissa had not spoken to Andromeda since she had seen her kissing Tonks. But that day Narcissa locked herself in her room and raged until her cheeks were soaked and her pillow was torn and her wand had left scorch marks in the ceiling for the house-elves to repair and she had extracted a promise from herself to never cry about Andy again.
When she left her room, she had the beginnings of an impenetrable shell wrapped around her lonely and aching soul.