They meet under cover of night. It's a dark, abandoned alley in the midst of Muggle London. James arrives a few minutes early, loiters outside the shops on the main street. He lounges against the wall with a cigarette in hand, putting it out as he hears Narcissa's heels announce her arrival. He smiles as she turns down the alleyway. James pulls a single, red rose from his jacket pocket, holding it out to her. She takes it before she takes him in her arms.
This is how it goes.
Once a week, maybe more if it's been a particularly rough or boring week, they meet in this little nook of London. They rarely talk. They don't need to, they have enough to keep them occupied. James's friends haven't a clue, and if anyone close to Narcissa knew, she'd never see James again. There was so much risk, but damn was it worth it.
They only ever meet long after darkness has fallen, when the shops are closed and even the bars are starting to turn away their loyal patrons. If their romance was ever to see the light of day, there'd be no saying what would happen to them. The circles they moved in were so different. James's gang despised Narcissa and everything she stood for, politically and otherwise. Narcissa was betrothed to a man who was in the inner circle of Lord Voldemort himself, who took it upon himself to wage war upon whomever wanted to challenge him. Of course, James was at the top of this list. Despite the differences in their backgrounds, they managed to forge a passion between them.
Narcissa strode toward him, the silver latches on her cloak catching the glow of a distant streetlight. Her heels clicked on the flagstones. James played it cool on the outside, but his desire was consuming him from within. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up just enough for it to look natural. Narcissa smirked, her red lips quirking up.
He pulls her in close, wrapping an arm around her. His hand drops lower, gripping her behind before sliding back up and tangling itself in her hair. She squirmed a bit. Narcissa worked far too hard to make sure not a hair was out of place. But she couldn't bring herself to make James stop, so she told herself she'd fix her hair before she returned home.
The night goes on, and more than Narcissa's hair becomes mussed. James has lost his white t-shirt and Narcissa's lipstick is on his face just as much as it's on her own.
When morning nears, Narcissa gathers herself, pulling her cloak back over her shoulders and casting a quick tidying charm over herself. She bids James goodnight and leaves. James is winded, half-dressed, and covered in small bruises. There's no other sign that anything had happened there, and that's how they like it.
X
The next week, James waits with his rose and Narcissa arrives in robes of gold, her hair a shade of champagne that glints in the light. James grins at her, a mischievous look in his eyes. He takes her hand, pulling her toward him and wrapping his arms around her. She relaxes into his grip. If she's to have an affair with anyone, she figures at least it helps that she chose someone who comes from 'Old Money' like she does. If you just overlook the Blood Traitor aspect, he's ideal, really.
Or so she tells herself.
James plants kisses along her neck, and she shivers at the touch. It's been too long since she's been touched this tenderly. His hands travel down to the neckline of her robes. "James, please. Someone might see…"
"It's still dark outside, no light reaches this far. No one would be able to see anything. But if you'd rather remain clothed, that's fine. We can find other ways to make this fun." His last word is merely a breath as he sucks lightly on the soft skin at the nape of her neck. He stops before she has a chance to tell him off, and before a bruise can form. The last thing Narcissa needs is marks from a secret lover in a spot she'd have trouble covering up.
Music starts playing across the street. "May I have this dance?" James asks, stepping back and offering a hand. He bows deeply, brushing his lips across the back of her hand as she extends it. The kiss is more chaste than they've ever exchanged, yet it feels more intimate.
"I'd be honored." Narcissa blushes as he pulls her into a waltz that definitely does not fit the upbeat rock music blaring from the small pub.
They spend much of the night dancing, exchanging sweet nothings that mean just about as much, laughing and talking and feeling comfortable with each other.
Sometimes, Narcissa wishes this could be her life in daylight as well.
X
The fact that James still manages to make it to the alleyway the following week as drunk as he is is quite frankly a miracle. But Narcissa takes the dandelion he offers her and decides to go along with it and see what happens. She has to admit, she's at least a bit amused by this change in James.
Before anything else can happen, James drops to a sitting position, propped up against the outer wall of one of the buildings. Narcissa conjures herself a cushion. She sits on it, next to James, and takes his hand.
"What if we could be together forever?" he asks her, eyes wide, hopeful.
Narcissa shakes her head, not meeting his eyes. She's been so trained in denying herself this little pleasure, that she's never really taken a moment to consider it. If she had the freedom to marry whomever she wished, would James be the one? There's a sorrow, a regret in her tone as she replies. "I wish that were possible. But you and I both know that it isn't."
"I know. But imagine it were – we could live together and go out together and hold hands."
"James," she reminds him, in the tone of one telling something to a toddler. "We're holding hands right now."
"Oh!" He looks down, reassuring himself of the fact, then giving her hand a squeeze. Narcissa chuckled, trying not to think about any fantasy future in which they could be together. It was too painful. She'd really grown to care for James.
"Promise you'll never leave me?"
And because Narcissa knows he won't remember any of this in the morning, and because she wants to live in this fantasy just a bit longer, she says yes.
She kisses him on the cheek. They sit like that for a while, none of the fevered romanticisms they normally share. Just a quiet moment, a brittle promise.
James dozes on her shoulder, and Narcissa spends the night thinking. As dawn starts to break, she gently wakes him. "It's time to go, James. It's early already." And she stands, brushing off her robes and watching him longingly for a moment. Turning on her heel, she makes her way back out of the alley, but she stops when she hears a small voice from behind her.
"You're leaving? But you made me a promise."
She doesn't have it in her to face him again. Not if she wants to make it back home tonight. So she leaves without turning back, Disapparating to the sound of James's lament behind her.
X
The last week that month, James waits longer than usual. Narcissa is late. She's rarely on time, but she usually arrives within a few minutes – not long enough where James wonders about her, but enough so that she never runs the risk of being the first one there. He's been waiting nearly twenty minutes, though. James moves to the outer edge of the alleyway again, hoping to catch a glimpse of her on the street. He sees plenty of people. None of them is Narcissa.
He starts to think she forgot, but she's never forgotten before. Then, he worries that she's been hurt somehow, that she's in trouble. He panics for a second, he thinks that she must have given up on him. That she's gone back to Lucius, that he's finally enough for her. That she's through with him and that she was going to spare him the shame of telling him.
But the panic passes a moment later as he hears her tell-tale heels click down the sidewalk. He grows hopeful again, preparing the rose to hand to her. But her face is drawn, controlled. Her eyes feel shut off, they have none of that luminous sheen they usually carry. The worry creeps its way back in, mixed with mistrust, with a feeling that maybe James is the one who'll be hurt.
"I…" She stops before him, taking his hand in hers and pulling him after her into the cover of their alley. "I have something to tell you, and I'm not sure how to say it. So I just will, and I apologize now if I sound insensitive. James, I'm sorry. I'm not here for you tonight. Lucius is meeting me at a nice restaurant down the street. I just came to tell you that you shouldn't wait here for me anymore." James wasn't expecting good news, but the reality of the situation was sinking in fast. His face fell, but he tried to mask it before Narcissa saw. He was too late, it seemed. "If we could continue this, I would, James. It's just not practical. I'm to be married next week. I'm already lying to Lucius enough because of this whole ordeal. I'm sorry. I love you."
She looks down, as if she regrets adding the last. Narcissa gives him one last kiss. It doesn't last nearly as long as he'd like. She doesn't take his rose and she gives his hand one last squeeze before walking back out of the alleyway and back to Lucius. As she leaves, James feels a part of himself go with her. He's given her so much of himself, built their relationship up into something that cannot be torn down without collateral damage.
But he knew that from the start. He knew they had no real future. He knew that love was a dangerous game – that there was no way for it to end without having some effect. It can save your life, but it can destroy it just as easily. James was left alone in the dimly-lit alleyway, the only one left to pick up the pieces.
A/N:
Written for: WC - Disney Challenge C6: Write about someone blushing; Shannon's Showcase 15: (object) Red rose; Showtime 44: (Dialogue) "It's still dark outside"; Count Your Buttons: D4 "I'm not here for you," P5 JamesNarcissa, W5 Freedom; Lyric Alley 22: I panic for a second, thinking "we're through"; Sophie's Shelf Vault 15: Write about two people from radically different backgrounds getting together; Emy's Emporium France 3: (setting) alleyway, Spain 2: Write a fic that takes place at night; Angel's Arcade Riku: (color) silver, (word set) darkness, change, mistrust, (dialogue) "You made me a promise."; Lo's Lowdown Q3: Love has no middle term: it either destroys, or it saves. BONUS. Northern Funfair: Ice Cream 53 (James Potter) and 27 (Narcissa Malfoy); Southern Funfair: Henna L2 (Dialogue) "I…I have something to tell you, and I'm not sure how to say it," A5 (word) Imagine, S15 (quote) "I plant roots so deep in the people I love that I always lose a piece of myself when they go," – Beau Taplin; Eastern Funfair: Circus – Fire Eating (Dialogue) "I love you," (word) Honor, (color) White, (Action) Playing with hair. Seasonal - Days of the Year – June 12: Write about someone being gifted with red roses; Summer Prompts (word) Relax; Color – Champagne; Flowers – (phrase) Old Money; Fire Element (word) Luminous; Shay's Musical Challenge 32: Write about one last kiss; Gryffindor Themed Prompts C: James Potter, T: Reckless, OP: Gold. Hamilton Mania: Act I: 12 (color) white; Optional 34 (object) lipstick. Pinata Club: Medium – Romance. World Cup: England Round of 16: JamesNarcissa