Traitors


It's after the snake attacks Arthur Weasley at the Ministry that Narcissa decides she wants out.

"Arthur's a pureblood," she says, pacing the dungeons of Hogwarts while Snape watches her from his desk. She's Floo'd into his office directly from her bedroom; she's still wearing her nightgown, he barely had time to slip into his robes. "I didn't realize it would get this far - I didn't think he would try to kill a pureblood."

"Weasley is a traitor," Snape says.

Narcissa whips her head around to glare at him. "My sister is a traitor, too. You think I want Andromeda dead?"

Snape's mouth curls up into a smirk. "No, you'd rather pretend she was never born, wouldn't you."

"I'm already upset," Narcissa snaps. "No need to make it worse."

"Calm down." Snape stands and selects a flask from the cabinet behind his desk. "It is time you pick a side, Narcissa. You have stayed neutral for far too long. War is coming. We can't ignore it any longer." He hands her the flask. "Drink."

She drinks the potion without asking what's in it - not because she trusts him, but because she doesn't care whether he poisons her, doesn't care whether she dies. The liquid that hits her lips has the familiar tang of a Calming Draught. "What if Draco marries one?" she whispers as she sets the empty flask on his desk. "What if he falls in love with one?"

"With a muggle?"

"Muggle. Muggleborn. Traitor. Any of them." She takes a deep breath. "He'd be in danger."

Snape traces his pale mouth with a long finger. "You could forbid him," he says after a moment. "Although you know as well as I do how that tends to play out."

Narcissa shakes her head. "Draco's a good boy. He'd listen if I told him - "

"Andromeda didn't listen."

She's glaring at him again. "He's not Andromeda's son."

Snape retains his calmness (and that infuriates her, because doesn't he realize how serious this is?). "You think that just because you obeyed when your parents told you who to marry, your son is going do the same?"

"Told me who to marry?" Narcissa repeats. "Lucius and I love each - "

"No, you don't." He's smirking again. "And everyone can see it."

"This isn't about me," Narcissa hisses. The Calming Draught hasn't begun to work yet, or it isn't strong enough, because there is fire in her veins, fire and fear, because she knows what he's trying to insinuate.

Snape's hand is back at his mouth. "No," he muses, "no, this is about the attack on Arthur Weasley."

She narrows her eyes. "I don't want to talk about Arthur Weasley."

"Of course you don't."

"He was never anything serious."

"Oh, please, Narcissa." Snape sits back down behind his desk and interlocks his fingers. "I thought we were past this."

"He was a distraction when I was young - "

"Yes, I've heard this speech before." Snape rolls his eyes. "Lie to the rest of them, Narcissa, but do not insult me."

Narcissa takes a deep breath. "You want to know the truth?" she asks.

"I already know the truth."

She shakes her head. "You don't know all of it."

Snape raises his eyebrows. "What more can there be? You loved Arthur Weasley. Arthur Weasley loved you. Your mother told you to marry Lucius, so you walked away and - no?"

Narcissa is shaking her head.

"Then what?"

She closes her eyes. "Look," she whispers. "You may look, but don't make me say it."

Snape looks confused for a moment, but then he understands. His hand moves to his wand. "You're certain?"

"War is coming," she quotes with a half-chuckle. "And if I can't trust you, who can I trust?" Her eyes are still closed. "Just do it."

Snape's dark eyes betray no emotion as he raises his wand. "Legilimens."


Narcissa is eleven and Narcissa is beautiful and Narcissa is thrilled, because she's been put into Slytherin just like the rest of her family, and a very kind boy called Lucius is chatting her up by the fireplace while Andromeda curls up in a chair with her book and Bellatrix lounges on the ground writing out paperwork for her Prefect duties.

"Can't believe I have the same shift as Arthur Weasley," Bellatrix is saying, which is when Lucius snorts, "Weasley" and Andromeda says, "Don't be rude" and Narcissa asks, "Who is Arthur Weasley?"

"He's disgusting," Lucius says, shaking his blond head. "Arrogant, pimply muggle-lover. Gryffindors always are."

(Narcissa says nothing, because the Sorting Hat considered putting her in Gryffindor only a week ago, and she decides Lucius Malfoy isn't such a kind boy after all.)


Narcissa is twelve and Narcissa is lovely and Narcissa is panicked, because she's out of the common room after hours and she hears someone coming down the corridor, and if she gets caught she'll be done for, Slughorn will give her detention and Andromeda will give her a talking-to and Bellatrix might write their mother, and all she can do is close her eyes and pray that it isn't Filch.

"Did you hear something?" a familiar voice asks (Bellatrix) and Narcissa opens her eyes and exhales slowly - because Bellatrix is scary, but not as scary as Filch, and she'd rather be caught by a Prefect than by the Caretaker.

"Student out of bed," replies a deeper voice, and Narcissa's heart jumps, because the voice is coming from justaroundthecorner. "I'll get it sorted."

"Hurry up, Weasley," Bellatrix says, and then a red head rounds the corner and a gangly boy nearly collides with Narcissa.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Arthur Weasley asks, and Narcissa bites her lip and tries to look innocent.

"Lost," she whispers so Bellatrix won't hear her. "Can't find my common room."

"Oh." Arthur pokes his head around the corner. "Just a lost first-year," he calls to Bellatrix (and Narcissa smirks). "I'll help her back to her common room."

"Fine, fine." Bellatrix sounds bored. "I'll patrol the dungeons. Meet me there when you're done."

"Which house?" Arthur asks, turning back to Narcissa.

"Gryffindor," because she can't very well say she's from Slytherin with Bellatrix wandering around the dungeons, can she?

"You're on the wrong side of the castle completely," Arthur says with a grin. "Come on, I'll take you back."

She follows him at a distance.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Emily."

"Haven't seen you around the common room, Emily."

"I'm slippery," she says. "And I'm not a first year."

"No?" He turns around to look at her (and Narcissa is bold and Narcissa is brave and Narcissa doesn't know why her heart thuds so hard when he looks at her). "Which year, then?"

"Fourth," she lies.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Fourth?"

A nod.

"Fourth year in Gryffindor?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Arthur leans against the wall and taps his chin with his finger. "Is anything you've told me true?"

She grins and shakes her head.

He sighs, but he's grinning, too. "Well, Emily the Gryffindor fourth-year," he says, "I should give you detention. But since I don't know who you really are, I suppose I can't do that. So you'd best run off to your real common room before I find out."

She gives him a genuine smile of thanks. "I was sneaking down to the kitchens," she says. "That's why I'm really out of bed. In case you were wondering."

Arthur laughs. "I do that, too," he admits. "All the time. Most nights, when I'm not on Prefect duty, you can find me chatting up the house elves."

"Oh?" Narcissa raises her eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

Arthur shrugs. "It's just a fact."

(Narcissa is coy and Narcissa is cheeky and Narcissa is flirting, of all things.) "Are you off duty tomorrow night?"

He nods. "I happen to be free, yes."

"Well." Narcissa flips her hair over her shoulder. "It's a date."

As she walks away, he calls, "Looking forward to it, Narcissa Black."

She stops. Turns. "How did you - "

"You look like your sister." He pauses, and then adds, "But you don't act like her, thankfully."

Narcissa laughs.

(Bellatrix catches her on her way back to the common room, but Narcissa doesn't even mind.)


Narcissa is fourteen and Narcissa is radiant and Narcissa is terrified, because she's been seeing Arthur Weasley in secret for two and a half years and he's graduating from Hogwarts in a month's time and she's just spent the entire morning throwing up.

"Narcissa, love," Lucius says to her when she finally comes out of the bathroom. "Are you well?"

(The engagement ring on her finger is heavy, and Narcissa hates that they're making her wear it so young.)

"Ill," she says.

Lucius folds her into his arms and kisses the top of her head.

Narcissa's skin is pale and cool and crawling at his touch, because there is only one man she wants to touch her, and nobody knows yet that she's going to run away with him as soon as the year is over.

"I'm going up to the kitchens," she says, pulling away from her fiancé. The engagement is against her will, but it's tradition - all the Black women have their husbands lined up by the time they're thirteen - and Bellatrix wears a ring and Andromeda wears a ring and neither of them complains, so Narcissa keeps the ring on her finger all the time except when she's with Arthur. "Going to try and find something to eat that won't make me sick."

Lucius kisses her lips gently. "I'll see you in awhile."

(She waits in the kitchens all day and well into the night, but Arthur doesn't come.)


Narcissa is still fourteen and still radiant and still terrified a month later when it's Arthur's last night.

"I want to run away with you," she whispers as she lies in his embrace.

"You know we can't do that, Cissy."

"Why not?"

"You've got four years left at Hogwarts."

"Hang Hogwarts," she says.

He laughs and shakes his head. "I'll wait for you," he promises. "I'll be, what, twenty-three when you graduate? That's not such a long time. It'll be enough for me to have a stable job so I can provide for you."

Narcissa's hand snakes down her own body until it reaches her stomach. "Arthur," she whispers. "We can't wait that long."

"Why not?"

She takes his hand and presses it against the small but firm bump in her abdomen.

Arthur's face hardens as he realizes.

"No," he whispers, pulling his hand away.

"Yes."

"Cissy. You can't be thinking of keeping it."

Narcissa blinks. "Of course I am. That's why I want to run away with - "

He moves away from her. "Get rid of it," he says. "You have to."

She frowns. "I thought you'd be happy."

"It would be different if you weren't engaged." He's standing. "But Narcissa. How are you going to explain a baby to Lucius?"

"I'll tell him it's his." She shrugs. "But I won't have to deal with that if you let me run away with - "

"His? He'd never believe that."

"Why not?"

"Because you haven't slept with him." Arthur is breathing heavily. "Have you?"

Narcissa says nothing.

"Narcissa."

"He's my fiancé," she says. "You think I can get away with not - "

His eyes are wide, and he staggers backwards as if he's been hit by a powerful blow. "So you've been cheating on me."

"No, I haven't, I've been cheating with - "

"You've been sleeping with both of us?"

"I don't have a choice!"

"So how do you know it's mine?" Arthur asks, and he looks wild. "Maybe it really is Malfoy's!"

"There are ways to check," she pleads. "Potions, spells."

"Forget it." He's walking away.

(Narcissa is dying.)

"Arthur, I love - "

"Forget it."


Narcissa is fifteen and Narcissa is stunning and Narcissa is dead inside, because Arthur Weasley's wedding announcement in the Daily Prophet is staring up at her, and the bride in the photograph is obviously pregnant, and the envy flowing through Narcissa's veins is paralyzing her.

"Weasley," her fiancé says with an eye-roll as he leans over her shoulder to read the paper. "Surprise, surprise, he married a fat cow. Can't decide who got the worse end of that deal, to be honest."

Narcissa says nothing, but her hand moves down to the tiny scar on her abdomen where a one-month-old Weasley was once removed.

"I love you," she says suddenly, looking up at Lucius.

She's never said it before.

(She doesn't ever say it again.)


And then they're back in Snape's office.

"So you see," Narcissa says icily. "I didn't walk away."

Snape stares at the wall behind her head, lost in thought.

"He walked away. He made the choice for me - because of Lucius, which was a choice my parents made for me." She's becoming worked up again. "People are always making choices for me."

"So make your own," Snape says quietly. "Choose, Narcissa, and I won't try to persuade you either way. Do you follow Dumbledore, or Voldemort?"

She doesn't flinch at the name, and they both think that maybe the Sorting Hat should have put her in Gryffindor, after all.

"I will follow whoever I have to," she says, "to make sure my son gets exactly what he wants."

"Even if he wants to marry a traitor?"

"Even then."

"Even if he wants to marry a - a muggleborn?" and his voice breaks on the last word, which is how Narcissa knows Snape is keeping secrets of his own.

She's trembling as she nods. "I'll even encourage it."

Snape finally looks at her. "Then I think you've chosen your side."

(Narcissa is weak and Narcissa is broken and Narcissa is desperate -

- but so is the man in front of her, who moves around his desk and offers her a hug that neither of them will ever speak of again.)


[Disney Character Competition: Genie - write about someone who is forced to do something]

[Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: Persephone - write about Narcissa Malfoy]

[New Years Resolution Challenge: Arthur Weasley/Narcissa Malfoy]

[Build-A-Bear Challenge: Naming Your Bear (R-Z; Rebecca): Write about Prefects]