A/N: Written for the Sing-Me-A-Rare Volume 3 competition. Much love to my Alpha, Rosella Burgundy, and Beta, Elle Martin.

Song Prompt - Cold as Ice by Foreigner
I chose Narcissa Black-Malfoy as a character and the admin team gave me Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Winner: The One That Never Leaves You
Winner: The Pairing You Didn't Know You Needed
Runner Up: The One You Wish Was Canon
Runner Up: Best Unhappily Ever After


Kingsley Shacklebolt marveled at the soft, delicate hand clasped in his larger, calloused hand. Pale, tapered fingers, ending in perfectly manicured nails, contrasted starkly with his dark skin. Lying on a blanket beneath a tree, one week after coming back for their final year at Hogwarts, Kingsley contemplated how he had missed being able to simply hold Narcissa Black's hand. Over the summer they had seen each other at a few functions, but unless they had been dancing, it had not been appropriate to just hold hands. The constraints of their society were enormous.

During the first ball of the past season, on the evening of the Summer Solstice, Kingsley had presented himself to Cygnus Black. He had asked for permission to begin courting the youngest of the man's daughters, and had been granted it. Nevermind that the pair had already been secretly dating for the prior three months.

A gentle squeeze pulled him out of his reverie. "What are you thinking?" Narcissa asked.

Rolling onto his side, Kingsley let go of her hand and propped himself up on his arm instead. Narcissa remained below him, still lying on her back, gazing up at him with a furrowed brow. Even in this casual setting, her uniform was perfectly in place, skirt demurely straightened to her knees, and shiny black shoes still on, below her crossed ankles. Only her loose blonde hair fanning out on the blanket behind her spoke of relaxation. He gave her a searching look, his eyes darting back and forth between her blue ones.

"It doesn't seem real," he finally admitted. "This. Us."

The wrinkle between her eyebrows relaxed, and Narcissa's worried look turned into a small, knowing smile.

"Still thinking your pureblood status isn't enough for my family?" she teased, reaching up to tug on his loosened blue and bronze tie. Her smile turned to a smirk. "As long as you aren't a Gryffindor."

Rolling his eyes, he laughed at her. "Or a Hufflepuff."

Affecting a serious mein and nodding sagely, although mirth still showed in her eyes, she agreed, "Or a Hufflepuff."

Glancing quickly around them, he didn't see any other students within sight. Daringly, he surprised Narcissa by leaning down to steal a quick kiss. A pretty blush crept into her cheeks as he sat up. When her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, he almost decided to throw caution to the wind and press his luck with a true snog.

"Not here," she whispered, clearly reading his intentions. Sighing, she sat up too, still keeping her legs crossed at the ankle, and looked toward the castle. "Final classes will be letting out soon. I should put my hair back up."

Before she could pull her wand out of her skirt pocket and use it to cast a spell to plait it, he reached out to pull a strand between his fingers. "I love your hair, you know," Kingsley told her, wrapping the smooth golden tendrils around his fingers. "I wish you could wear it loose."

She good-naturedly swatted his hand away. "My loose hair is only for my intended to admire."

"What if your intended told you to keep it down?" he asked in a low voice, grabbing another bit, giving it a gentle tug, before letting the silky strands slide out of his grasp. "What if your intended told you he liked wrapping his hands up in your hair as he pulls your head back?"

In one fluid motion he went from sitting next to her, to up on his knees, straddling her calves. Immediately, she leaned back on her hands, tilting her chin up. Merlin knew he would love nothing more than to move higher and place himself directly over her thighs. The way she now sat pushed her chest out towards him, and even with a blouse and jumper covering her breasts, he could detect their jutting shape better than just a moment prior.

The final bell had still not rung, but he used his peripheral vision to keep an eye out for anyone else walking the grounds.

Her eyes had widened at his heated tone and dominant stance. Again her tongue darted out to lick her pink lips, enticing him to act recklessly. When her eyes trailed down his body, pausing at the placard of his trousers, he couldn't stop a small groan from escaping. Immediately, her eyes jumped back up to his face, while her cheeks pinked prettily. He watched her nostrils flare when she took a deep breath.

"I think it would be best if we returned to the castle," Narcissa told him in a steady voice, carefully reaching down to her skirt pocket and pulling out her wand. The blush was already receding as she attempted to regain some semblance of control. Without breaking eye contact, she performed the spell that neatly wound her hair back up.

Reluctantly, Kingsley agreed, standing up next to her, offering a hand back down. Once again, Narcissa placed her small hand in his larger one, allowing him to pull her up next to him. She proceeded to swipe non-existent debris off of her skirt while he tightened his tie. A couple of quick spells later, and everything from their afternoon sojourn was packed up and stowed in his satchel.


"Shhh! We'll get caught!"

Kingsley smirked at Narcissa's perfunctory admonishment. He was already being highly stealthy, knowing she would regret her suggestion to sneak away to the Astronomy Tower for an assignation if she was not assured there wouldn't be repercussions. People underestimated his ability to be sly, based upon both his size and his Hogwarts house. Kingsley had an ability to blend in with his surroundings that he hoped would help him when he applied to be an Auror next year.

Earlier in the day the pair had gone to Hogsmeade together, and Narcissa had allowed him to escort her to Madam Puddifoot's - their first official date in the larger world. Well, in the Wizarding World, at least. A whispered confession that Kingsley hoped to one day take her out in Muggle London had been covered by the din of other students talking and the clinking of teacups. Stories of his forays into the city had piqued her curiosity, and Narcissa had pressed him for specifics. She admitted that her only exposure to anything Muggle was the view out of a third floor bedroom window at her Uncle Orion's townhouse in London when they visited. As a child, she had enjoyed gazing at Muggles in the park across the street.

During their carriage ride back up to the castle after a pleasant day spent in the village, Narcissa had taken advantage of the short time alone with him to cuddle. Cuddling had led to kissing, with little nips of teeth on lips, and soft sighs. That had led to her surprising suggestion of some longer time alone after curfew.

"I'm not the one talking," he answered her plea for quiet in a soft whisper. They were almost at the top of the tower's stairs. Once they found a secluded corner, he would cast a silencing charm around them, along with a few other spells to insure their privacy and comfort.

Over the past few weeks, they had been stealing kisses in alcoves throughout the castle between classes, or while he walked her back to the Slytherin common room after a late night studying for N.E.W.T.s in the library. Her breathy moans and little gasps as she pressed her body tight to his had been titillating. He longed to see what sorts of reactions he could garner if she allowed more of her guard down.

Kingsley paused at the top of the stairs. "Homenum Revelio." When the spell showed no one else occupied the high space, they crept forward. There was a sheltered classroom area in addition to the open platform, where arches sat lined with telescopes.

The passion she showed him over the next hour had Kingsley second-guessing everything he thought he knew about Narcissa Black. Well, not everything. Although he had finally managed to work his hand up under her crisp white blouse, she never allowed his hands to wander lower than her slim waist. Forgetting to hide his arousal when she squirmed beneath him, seeking friction with her hips while he strummed a nipple with his thumb, Kingsley returned her tentative movements with a short series of rolling thrusts.

The sharp bite of nails into his back and an uninhibited moan broke through his lust-filled haze, letting him know to slow down a moment. Stilling his fingers and raising his head up from the clavicle he had been laving, he beheld Narcissa's dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. Glorious waves of mussed blonde hair spread out on the cloak lying beneath her.

"Sorry," he choked out, telling his body to desist its insistent motions, when all it wanted to do was rub against the welcoming heat below him. Even through all of their layers of clothing, he could feel enough to know he was perfectly in position. He was not sure when he had managed to align their bodies, his hard member cradled at the apex of her spread thighs. Smiling down, he reminded her, "We can stop anytime you want."

Biting her lip, Narcissa gave a small shake of her head. "I don't want you to stop yet. I liked what we were doing." The whispered admission was punctuated by her locking her legs around his waist, keeping him tight against her core.

"You like this?" he asked, grinding down slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she nodded. Slowly, he began building her back up, watching the expressions flitting across her face, cataloguing them, as he moved his hips and returned to the previous attention he had been giving her pert breast. He was learning along with her, these types of activities nearly as new to him as to her. Most of the evening had been built upon his bravado, rather than any experience.

"Wait," Narcissa suddenly said, eyes snapping back open. Shyly, she trailed her eyes down his chest, her gaze landing on his belt. Unlocking her ankles, she let her legs relax while her hands moved around from his back to land on his hip bones. "Can I…?"

Kingsley inhaled sharply at the indication. Not knowing what to say to her tentative question, he quickly nodded, lest she lose her nerve.

Slowly, being careful not to startle her, he came up to his knees. Making no presumptions as to what she intended, he remained still, watching her lick her lips while her eyes caressed his tented trousers. An ingrained habit had him wanting to reach down to hide his arousal from her, but he held back, letting her take in what her hot little body did to him.

He groaned, "Merlin," when her hands shyly fluttered down from his hips to trail along his cloth-covered length. No witch had ever touched him like this before. Growing braver, she pressed her palm more firmly when his hips involuntarily bucked into her grip. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands.

"You can grip it a bit harder, squeeze as you rub," he bit out, already feeling himself heading towards his peak. Minutes later, when he soiled the front of his trousers with a loud grunt, his initial reaction was embarrassment, but the look of triumph in her eyes quelled any doubt as to how she was regarding the situation.

As a gentleman, Kingsley wanted to return the pleasure, but as a socially upstanding wizard, he knew the high regard in which a witch's purity was held. Perhaps, over time they could find some mutually pleasurable ways around the social constructions.


Halloween came, with a feast in the Great Hall, and some more private celebrations held into the early hours of the next morning.

A small group of students, mostly pureblood but from all four houses, had gathered around a large cauldron in a courtyard and lit a small fire inside. Each had, in turn, written on a scrap of parchment a hope or a wish for a fault or flaw about themselves they wanted to change, then cast it into the flames. With a new year came a chance to cleanse oneself and set resolutions to become a better person.

There was also a small table, set with four chairs around it and two decks of tarot cards atop it, which hosted a steady stream of students pairing up to read for each other. A second table held offerings of food and drinks that would be left behind when everyone returned to their dorms for the night.

Standing close to his side with her arm around his waist and his draped over her shoulders, Narcissa discreetly tilted her head up to whisper near his ear, "What are they doing here?" Following the subtle cant of her head, Kingsley found her indicating the handful of half-bloods attending the small Samhain observance.

"They're probably wondering the same thing about you, you know," he answered, keeping his voice low. He had not missed the quizzical looks he had received upon arriving with Narcissa. Gently, hoping she would not take it the wrong way, he continued, "This is your first time, but I have attended this gathering every year. There are always a few half-bloods who have learned the old ways from their families. What none of us are used to is celebrating with certain Slytherins."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Narcissa pursed her lips for a beat before answering. "There is a much larger gathering in the Slytherin common room every year. Our half-blood students never take part."

"Just because you don't see them burning their previous year's secrets or divining their future for the next year, that doesn't mean they aren't doing it elsewhere when you exclude them."

Kingsley stared at her, waiting for her to understand, willing her to see that it wasn't all about being pureblood and Slytherin. She blinked rapidly, before cutting her eyes away to the lone Slytherin boy among them.

A second year named Severus Snape stood apart from the rest of their group, his lanky hair hiding his face. Even the other half-bloods appeared leary of him.

"I suppose," she said slowly, although Kingley got the feeling she was placating him when her body language remained closed off to him and her hand hung limply in his rather than returning his squeeze. Still, just coming here tonight showed he was chipping away at her beliefs, warming her up.


"I'm going to miss seeing you every day over the holidays," Narcissa murmured against his lips. They had been snogging in a small space behind a tapestry on the fourth floor for the past fifteen minutes. "I really should get back to the common room now, though. The train leaves early in the morning."

There went Kingsley's idea to entice her to move somewhere a little more private. As autumn had progressed into winter, she had been more receptive to sneaking away with him, as well as letting his hand go below the waist of her skirt. She still hadn't let his hand inside her knickers, but he had brought her off two times now by rubbing her through the damp cloth. He had hoped perhaps, to give and receive a proper send-off before break.

What she hadn't been more accommodating with was socializing with half-bloods. Word had reached Narcissa that her sister Andromeda was expecting a baby any day now. Someone's older sister had seen the heavily pregnant witch unashamedly walking in Diagon Alley, apparently, and rumors had quickly spread. Narcissa had been beside herself for the past month over what she called the mortification of it.

Kingsley had made a few attempts to gently remind her that it wasn't the end of the world, even if her parents may think so. "Babies are a blessing," he had said immediately upon hearing the news. "Especially ones born of love."

She had scoffed at him. "You know nothing. Andromeda was burned off of our family tapestry and stripped of any familial recognition just for eloping with that, that…" She had hesitated, obviously thinking the word Mudblood in her head. Crossing her arms over her chest, she had growled in exasperation before continuing. "Perhaps, if she had come to her senses before getting herself into this delicate situation, and divorced him, she could have been forgiven. If she just had come back and apologized, I know there was a chance she could have been restored to our family."

Another time, he had broached the subject of her having a niece or nephew, and asked if she curious about it. She had immediately shut him down.

"You know very well our kind prunes our trees well. If our grandparents and their grandparents before them could do it, so can we. The Black family will survive, and I daresay thrive, without Andromeda or anyone else unworthy of calling themselves a part of us," Narcissa had responded decisively, her nose wrinkled with distaste.

Yes, it was true that there were occasionally Squibs born to members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight who had to make their own way in the world once it was discovered they lacked magic. However, it was common knowledge that no line was as pure as they pretended. He would just have to keep on nudging Narcissa to look beyond the restricted world she had been raised in. Over time, he knew he could continue to thaw her.

"Do you have to go right now?" Kingsley leaned his forehead against hers, their noses touching, as he willed her to respond that she could spend a little more time with him before they were separated. Somewhere down the hall, a door shut, the sound echoing softly. Neither of them moved.

Shutting her eyes, she sighed. It occured to Kingsley that she looked very tired, something he had not noticed until now.

"I'm worried about seeing the rest of my family tomorrow," she confessed. "I'll need my wits about me when we get to King's Cross Station. I overheard Sirius telling Potter outside the Great Hall how excited he is that his favorite cousin is having a sprog." She managed a decent imitation of her Gryffindor cousin's voice while mocking him. Dropping her chin, she tucked her head under his chin and continued talking against his chest, her words muffled by his robes. "I know he did it on purpose within earshot of me, the little git. He won't be keeping his mouth shut about it all during the holidays, I guarantee. I thought the family gatherings last year had been unbearable when she was newly married. This year is going to be significantly worse."

Kingsley put a finger under her chin and raised her head back up, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, it's going to be alright, no matter what. You have me. I'm only a quick owl or Floo call away. It's only two weeks. We'll see each other at your grandfather Arcturus' dinner, and the Fawleys' charity ball. And you're coming to Longbottom Manor for their gala too, right?"

Tears threatened from the corners of her eyes and her lower lip began the treamble. "I'm not sure if we'll be attending the Longbottoms' event this year," she confessed. "Aunt Walburga had some sort of falling out this summer with great Aunt Callidora, who's married to Harfang Longbottom, and I think Aunt Walburga expects our entire families are feuding now because of it. I doubt we really are, but we may have to back out of our invitation. And I'll be forced to go to the Malfoys' Midwinter Masquerade without you as well."

"I promise you will make it through all of it. You'll be the belle of every ball, even if you won't have your handsome suitor at your side," he told her with a wink, trying to lighten her mood. Deciding to go for broke, he added something he had been thinking for weeks, but hadn't had the courage to say yet. "I love you."

Narcissa's eyes went wide and her lips parted like she wanted to answer, but wasn't sure what to say. He grew worried when she didn't immediately answer back in kind. Suddenly, her open mouth turned into a grin and she threw her arms around him, crushing her body against his. "I love you, too," she whispered, as if it was so special she couldn't bear to say it louder.

For a moment, they stood still like that, just holding each other tight, but then she drew back, her face darkening with a mix of anger and determination.

"There's no reason why you shouldn't be invited by Abraxas Malfoy to his parties. Once we are officially engaged, he'll be forced to invite you."

Kingsley couldn't help snorting at her naivety, although he liked the sound of her expecting them to be engaged in the future. "More likely, your invitations will be conveniently lost by the delivery owl each year after that. I wonder how many non-Slytherins even step foot on his estate?"

"There's always a smattering of them there, but they tend to be highly placed Ministry officials."

"Well, then, I'll have to make sure to become a highly placed Ministry official."


On the final day of the Christmas holidays, they met up on Platform 9¾ where they waited to board the Hogwarts Express. It seemed that all of the 7th years were feeling nostalgic about what may be their final trip to Hogwarts, as many of them would stay behind during the Easter holiday to study for N.E.W.T.s. Most had arrived early and were congregating alongside the train.

Kingsley was surprised to see Bellatrix there as well. She and her husband, Rodolphus, were milling about, speaking with a few of the students.

"What's your sister doing here?" he asked Narcissa.

Narcissa frowned, watching her eldest sister talk with their cousin Evan Rosier for a moment before she answered. "I'm not really sure. She told me that she wanted to see me off, as this may be the last time either of us could be on this platform, until someday when we brought our own children here. But she's ignored me ever since we apparated in."

Unease filled Kingsley as he watched a toothy smile stretch across Bellatrix's face when Rosier waved over Mulciber. Glancing around, he saw another unexpected wizard. Abraxas Malfoy stood deep in conversation with Narcissa's parents. Lucius was an only child and had graduated the prior year, so his father's presence was both odd and notable. It almost felt as if something momentous was building up.

During the break he had seen Narcissa only twice - once at the Fawleys', and the other time at Arcturus Black's.

They had danced together extensively at the former; Kingsley thought it had been most enjoyable. At the conclusion, he had hugged her goodnight, earning a frown from some of the older crowd.

The next night was midwinter and he knew she would be at Malfoy Manor, while his family quietly toasted the holiday with a bottle of wine.

Dinner had been awkward at the Black estate. Of course, no one spoke of Andromeda. After dessert, when the men retired to the study, both Lestrange brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan, had interrogated him about his political beliefs over Firewisky. Separated from Narcissa, he had been unsure of how to proceed, but thought he had handled himself well enough. Kingsley suspected the Lestranges were involved in something dark, and had hoped to find he would be interested in joining in on whatever it was.

He had begun second-guessing what her family, and by extension Narcissa, thought of him after that night, as the couple of notes she had sent to him by way of her owl had been stilted.

Today, she had demurely smiled at him and allowed him to place her hand in the crook of his arm. The brief happiness this gesture brought was now broken as Kingsley contemplated various members of Narcissa's family and who they were speaking with.

The shrill whistle of the train startled him from his thoughts, causing him to jump. Narcissa's giggle over his slight jolt broke the mood. He playfully tweaked her nose in retaliation, earning him a mock gasp.

"Dear, it's nearly time for you to get on the train," a nasally voice broke in on the frivolity. Both teenagers turned to find Druella Black standing behind them, her expression haughty. She glanced down at where their bodies touched, clenching her jaw for a moment. "Come say good-bye to your father. I am sure young mister Shacklebolt will save you a seat on the train."

"Ma'am," Kingsley nodded at Narcissa's mother, acknowledging her words, even though she had not been speaking directly to him. He watched the two women walk further back down the platform to where Cygnus Black still stood with Abraxas Malfoy, steam swirling around them.

During the train ride, Narcissa sat quietly staring out the window at the passing countryside, following a reassurance that they could talk about their time apart later. The exception was when she told off a group of second years creating a commotion right outside their compartment. As the door slid back shut after she had threatened to hex them, Kingsley heard the taunt, "Ice queen." Based upon Narcissa's thinned lips and narrowed eyes, she had heard it too. Grabbing her hand to tug her back down beside him, he stopped her from going back out into the hallway. The other two occupants of their compartment, both Ravenclaws, had their noses buried in books, willfully ignoring everything around them.

"Let's sneak away tonight," Narcissa suddenly leaned in to whisper in his ear. She placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed. "Meet me in that unused classroom three doors down from Charms an hour after the feast ends?"

Only too happy to be invited to meet up with her immediately, he nodded, ignoring the almost manic glint in her eyes.

Later that night, he found her already waiting for him when he stepped into the classroom. He quickly put a strong locking charm on the door behind him. Listening to the inner voice that had been steadily telling him something was not right, he started to ask her what had happened during the Yule season. She cut him off with a searing kiss and he soon forgot what he wanted to say.

Narcissa certainly was showing now she had missed him, and that perhaps the mixed signals over break had been part of a necessary act, when she continued to take the lead. Never before tonight had Kingsley found himself on his back with her over him. He discovered he more than liked the way her body was riding him as she teased her tongue and teeth along both sides of his neck.

He had both hands under her jumper, kneading her breasts. No sooner was he contemplating removing it, then she was doing it for him. Her skin was flushed, and her hardened nipples were clearly outlined through the cotton of her simple bra. Grinning coyly, she reached behind herself to unlatch the hooks. The straps over her shoulders were the only thing holding up the fabric, when her smile faltered.

Immediately sensing her insecurity, Kingsley said, "We don't have to any further." The gods knew he wanted to, but he would never consider pushing her.

Mutely shaking her head, Narcissa got a look of determination on her face. Shimmying her hips, she smirked at him when he grabbed her hips to hold her still.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

His only answer was her allowing her bra to slip down her arms before she tossed it aside.


Over the following weeks, Kingsley began to notice a pattern. First, a seemingly innocuous thing would set Narcissa off.

Once it was during career counseling day, when 7th year students were encouraged to interact with outside wizards and witches who had been brought in from a variety of professions to speak one on one with anyone who was looking to go into the same field. A Hufflepuff had snickered something to a Gryffindor which Kingsley didn't catch, while looking at the few Slytherin witches grouped together. Narcissa must have caught it, and instead of ignoring the student and moving to speak with a mentor regarding her passion for Ancient Runes, Narcissa had asked Professor Slughorn if she could be excused.

Another time they had been sitting in the library and at the next table down, there had been a conversation, in voices that were just loud enough to carry, about a recent attack on Muggles in London. It had been impossible to miss they way Narcissa's knuckles went white when she gripped her quill, still taking notes from the text in front of her.

However, most often, he would see her abruptly stop eating breakfast after the morning post arrived. He wasn't sure what sort of news Narcissa was receiving from home, because she neither showed him her correspondence, nor did she want to talk about it when he pressed her. Whatever it was, it was turning her off eating.

Secondly, after each of these types of events, she would be withdrawn - perhaps for a few hours, sometimes for days. During that time she would attend classes, but would not participate unless forced to by a professor. She would find sneaky ways to avoid Kingsley, such as taking meals at odd times, or setting up tutoring sessions for the younger year Slytherins in their common room.

Step three was when she would seek to get him alone and nearly rip his and her clothes off as soon as she was insured of their privacy. She seemed determined to wring as much pleasure as possible from him, returning the favor in kind, as long as they did not partake in actual intercourse. The idea crept into his head that she was using him, although that seemed ludicrous. He told himself that he was being a supportive boyfriend, waiting for her be ready for him in her own time. He also ignored the niggling voice that asked him if he would be nearly as supportive if he wasn't frequently getting off by a means other than his own hand.

The platitudes became more difficult with time, since he also knew that supportive boyfriends were supposed to listen to their witch's troubles. And he had no real clue what her troubles were. He felt as if he was walking on Ashwinder egg shells.

The next time he saw her receive an owl from home, he planned to corner her and get some answers. It was late February before he was able to enact his plan.

An owl arrived, with a small rolled up piece of parchment attached to its leg. When Narcissa got up from the table to leave, after glancing at the missive, he quickly followed after her.

"Narcissa!" he called out upon exiting the Great Hall and seeing her already moving up the stairs.

She turned back to look at him, confused. The staircase she stood on lurched and began a slow pivot to another spot. He took that as an opportunity to sprint up to her side. He arrived next to her just as the stairs clicked into their new place.

Huffing an exasperated sigh, she beckoned him to follow her.

"What was in your letter from home today?"

"Here," she said, pausing to pull the letter back out of her pocket and stuff it in his hand, before she continued down the hall to a classroom they occasionally met in, not bothering to watch him read it.

Slowing down his pace, he opened it and read the short letter from her mother.

Word has reached me that you are not upholding your obligations to our family. I expect you to rectify this immediately.

Stepping into the classroom he looked up to find Narcissa staring out a window, her shoulders set stiffly. "What does this mean?" he asked.

Barely turning her head, she flicked her wand at the door, shutting it and putting up a privacy spell. Training her sight back on some point outside, she answered without any inflection, "I am supposed to be reporting on certain Slytherins to my sister Bellatrix. I guess the information I'm passing along isn't deemed good enough."

Moving next to her, Kingsley tried to pick out what she was staring so intently at, but found nothing in the bleak winter landscape that would hold someone's interest so fully. "What do you mean by 'reporting on'?"

Mirthlessly, Narcissa laughed. "What do you think I mean?"

Piecing together certain events, he felt his hands grow clammy. He didn't know what to say. Did this mean she was working for him? He stood there frozen.

Finally looking at him, Narcissa must have easily read his horror. She quickly reached out to place her hand on his, her face taking on a softer look. "No, it isn't like that! My sister just wants to know who we can trust. My parents have found themselves in a perilous position with the birth of my…"

Niece, Kingsley filled in inside his head.

"Bella says we have to work harder to prove ourselves now to some of the other pureblood families. I need to help," she pleaded with him to understand.

The problem was, he didn't want her to feel this way - and he didn't want to understand. What he wanted was for her to not care if there was a halfblood in her family. He kept hoping she would start to see that people could make their own choices and that loving someone was never wrong. But, all of those words stuck in his mouth as he watched her look as if she may break down. He knew how much talking about Andromeda upset her, so instead, he found himself apologizing. "I'm sorry your family is making it difficult for you. Especially when you already have so much on your plate with N.E.W.T.s just three months away. Come here," he told her, opening up his arms, "let me help you feel better."

It was only later, back in his dorm room, properly tired from their latest tryst, that he wondered if perhaps he had been manipulated once again. He decided to have the next few days be a test. He would see if she would be more open with him, now that her fears had been revealed.

Over the ensuing weeks, things progressed in such a manner that he trusted her to be telling the truth. They seemed to be back on track with being open. Narcissa was still working out her frustrations via liaisons with him, but he felt no need to complain. In fact, it was he who held her back from giving him her virginity the final weekend before Easter break.

"I don't see why you wouldn't want to," she told him, as her naked body rubbed on his. She pouted when she could not get him to move the final few inches from where he was poised above her to slip inside of her. "Please?"

It would be so easy to give in, he knew. And his body ached for it. He had rubbed his aching member against her slick folds, feeling the heat and enjoying the way their bodies slid back and forth with the lubrication. That, coupled with the way he knew her soft canal gripped his fingers when she orgasmed led him to have a fair certainty of how amazing intercourse would feel.

"After we leave school, once you wear my ring on your finger," he assured her through gritted teeth when she continued to create friction against him. Kingsley was fully aware of the Christian saints and decided perhaps he could apply to be one after tonight.

Groaning, she ran her nails roughly down his back, perhaps seeking to punish him with a bit of pain. "I don't want to wait until then."

"Too bad, witch," he told her, grinning down into her lust-filled gaze, before breaking out of her grip and sliding all of the way down her body until his head was nestled between her thighs. "You'll just have to make due with this."

He slid two fingers into the wet heat he had been so close to sliding another part of himself into as he simultaneously latched his mouth onto her swollen clitoris. Even after she came upon his thrusting fingers and appeared languid, he was careful to make sure she did not gain complete control over him. It would be easy for her to stop halfway through sucking on him to try to straddle him instead, taking what he hadn't given her earlier. Unless he came before she could think to do that. Which turned out to be fairly easy, after how worked up he was.


"What?" Kingsley asked, filling with dread. His heart was beating too fast and he could feel a cold sweat beginning to break out. "What do you mean you're marrying Lucius Malfoy? How could you be marrying someone when we are courting?"

Narcissa stood with her back ramrod straight, eyes staring at him in an unblinking dare. The slight twisting of her hands, almost as if she was washing them, was his only sign of her nervousness. She had slipped on another personality from the one he had gotten to know over the past year.

"Courting isn't something that sets a relationship in stone," Narcissa told him a flat voice. Carefully, she smoothed her palms along the sides of her dress, then left them hanging there, rather than bringing them back up in front of her.

If he were not in the middle of a crisis, he would probably be admiring Narcissa's ability to detach. He, on the other hand, was getting quite heated up. Luckily, or perhaps in a premeditated move, she had chosen to break the news to him somewhere private after she had spent a few days away, meeting her parents in Hogsmeade, rather than taking the train home and a full week off for Easter.

"That wasn't what I meant at all. What I meant was up until five minutes ago, I thought we were headed to marriage because you never broke off courting with me!"

"You know you've seen it before with students who have already left Hogwarts. You can't take this personally - it happens all the time," Narcissa said, avoiding eye contact. "Abraxas Malfoy approached my father during the Midwinter Masquerade. They agreed to work towards a mutually beneficial marriage contract. Lucius had asked for me."

"You've known about this since December?" he shouted at her incredulously, waving his arms in fury. His world was crashing down around him, and she could have prevented it months ago.

"No. He asked for me then, and I suspected something was afoot due to my mother's demeanor that night and every day afterwards until I returned to school. There were also… hints in some of her letters. But our parents didn't finalize an agreement until I was home for the Easter holidays. That's when they confirmed my suspicions."

Letters, there had been other letters she had never shown him. Of course there had been. Easter. It hit him like a bludger. She had tried to bed him just before Easter. Confusion swirled in his brain, and he latched onto the one sure idea he could find within his muddled thinking.

"And that's it? You're some sort of object to be sold?"

For a moment, he saw a spark - his words had hit a nerve. Her eyes flashed when they met his and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Don't you pretend for one moment that you are unaware of how witches are seen in our circle, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It would be a bald lie after how diligently you worked to protect my purity. It's the only real thing of value I have."

Everything narrowed down suddenly, the points all connecting like a constellation.

"That was never how I saw you! It isn't true, and even it was, you're letting your parents sell it to the highest bidder!"

"What would you have me do? Be like Andromeda and lose my family? Leave the world behind for you? Did you really think I would make that choice?" she hissed, her tone showing how angry she was, but her hands were already going back to her sides, once again nervously smoothing down along her thighs, as she struggled to regain calmness.

Inside he was screaming, Yes! Yes, I thought all of that and more! Would it have been different if I had given into your begging? All of this time, what was even real?

Instead, he answered, "It's too late to be asking my advice. You've already closed that door."

Looking as if she was talking to someone she barely knew, rather than to someone with whom she had supposedly been in love with, she said, "I assume I don't need to warn you about what would happen to both of our reputations if word of the depth of our relationship got out?"

Kingsley stared at her in shock. "You must realize that I kept defending you over the past year, don't you? When people said that we would never work out as a match, because simply being a pureblood still isn't good enough for a Black. When they told me that you were a cold bitch, I hexed them all. And now it turns out that they were right. You really are as cold as ice, aren't you?" Kingsley spat out, tasting bile bubbling up in his throat. Inside him there warred a desire to hurt her with the desire to just be far, far away from her as quickly as possible. "The fact that you're throwing away a fortune in feelings for a fortune in Galleons doesn't matter at all to you. Just that your husband thinks you're coming to him untouched. He'll never know you like I knew you, will he? All of that passion is going to need to stay bottled up to allow him to always be the one in control isn't it? Because we both know that's the type of man Lucius Malfoy is. Don't worry, you needn't threaten me, your secrets are safe," he concluded with a nasty sneer.

"Then I thank you," Narcissa replied stiffly, although he caught the flash of relief on her face. Bowing her head slightly, she started to turn away from him, presumably just as anxious to be alone as he was.

Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist, and some small part of his mind registered that this was perhaps the final time he would see their skin contrasted in this direct of a manner. "Wait," he demanded, his anger abating just enough for him to be concerned. "Are you sure about this?"

Her face was an emotionless mask as she yanked her arm away from his grip. "I'm sure."

Resigned, he drew himself up to his full height, looking down at her, attempting to compartmentalize in the same way she so effortlessly did it. "For your sake, I hope I'm wrong, but I fear that someday you'll pay the price for this decision."


A/N: I am not super happy with the dialogue in this story. While trying to work in the lyrics from the song, it ended up feeling clunky. Both my alpha and my beta noted that I should explain that I did indeed mean to refer to Samhain as the date for the beginning of the new year. The scene in my story depicts a modification of a fairly traditional way to celebrate a Celtic New Year's Eve on 31 October - with a ritual bonfire, personal reflection on faults or flaws, divination of the future, and offerings of food for wandering spirits. Finally, I wasn't quite sure how much a student like Kingsley Shacklebolt would know about the Death Eaters in 1972 or 1973. He definitely knows about Voldemort. The first war was barely beginning though, and his family was on the lighter side of the Sacred 28, so I just couldn't imagine him really knowing who had joined Voldemort's side. If he seemed a bit naive, well, I think Narcissa's betrayal and his next step in life of becoming an Auror will soon solve that.