"Bella?" Narcissa spoke softly, as if unwilling to let the words spill out of her throat and into the world where they would carry so, so much weight. She paused when her sister didn't seem to hear her—perhaps she could still leave everything as it was. Maybe she could manage to live without giving her madness a voice and releasing it into the void.
"Spit it out, Cissy, I haven't got all day," Bella said, eyes still glued to the dark tome nicked from their father's personal library. Narcissa jumped at the sound of her sister's voice, too consumed by the sheer insanity of her question to even register Bellatrix's impatience.
It made no difference—the words came spilling out of her before she could truly think about the consequences.
"Have you ever been in love, Bella?"
The world stopped. Bellatrix's eyes became glass, and Narcissa could see the hard set of her sister's jaw, indicating deep displeasure.
"What an absurd sort of question," she eventually said, dark eyes now staring at nothing, far from Narcissa. She snapped the book closed. "No."
"Not even..." Narcissa tried, still riddled with doubt but wanting, needing to give this ever-present fear inside her heart a reason to be set free. "I mean, I know that you and Rod..."
"Rodolphus and I are merely married." Bellatrix interrupted, saying her husband's name in a tone dripping with disdain, the word 'married' like the acid of a poison on her tongue. "There is no love. Only a contract for the sake of galleons and bloodlines."
The eldest Black sister finally did turn to look at Narcissa, and Narcissa flinched at the ice and venom in her eyes.
"No, I know, I just meant... not with Rod, but maybe... with anyone else? Have you ever..." she trailed off, running a hand through her blonde strands, not believing her own mind or her gall to ask Bellatrix such a question. "Have you ever felt... Have you ever fallen in love?"
Bellatrix cocked an eyebrow, gauging, waiting, letting Narcissa squirm under her scrutiny.
"Why are you asking me this?"
Narcissa bit her tongue, now trying to quell the madness before it grew and took over absolutely everything with it—she had already said too much, and she knew Bellatrix was aware she had said too much by the look in her sister's dark eyes.
Bellatrix sighed deeply, averting her gaze.
"It is not Lucius."
It was even remotely phrased as a question. Bellatrix did not need or want Narcissa's confirmation.
Still, Narcissa shook her head in the negative. Were it true, she would not be going mad. If only it were Lucius, she would not need to voice these words in this absurd conversation. Were it her betrothed who awoke this feelings within her, she would not be on the verge of panic every single day, consumed by doubt and worry.
But Lucius did not keep her awake at night. Lucius did not make her heart thunder within her chest; he did not make her mind wander into sweet bliss. He did not run his fingers through her hair as if it were made of silk, he was not the one whispering sweet nothings in her ear, not the one to touch her so deeply and intimately to make her forget all sense and reason.
If only he could give her even a fraction of that; if he had that penetrating emerald gaze and that wild, wild, exasperating wit.
"No of course it's not Lucius." Bellatrix muttered, oblivious to Narcissa's inner turmoil. "No offense, Cissy. Your husband-to-be is a wanker. I would know, my husband's a wanker too."
Narcissa only nodded in response. She didn't particularly care for him either.
Bellatrix sighed deeply, running a hand through her wild curls in an unfamiliar mixture of irritation and... fear? Pity? Narcissa couldn't be certain. All of this was new, these feelings and their ramifications were uncharted waters."
Well. Nearly uncharted, as Bellatrix reminded her.
"Just..." she breathed out, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "Whoever this bloke is, I hope you're keeping it discreet. And for the love of Merlin, do not dare... We do not need another Andromeda."
Narcissa's stomach twisted into painful knots at the seldom-uttered name. A deep anxiety threatened to overtake her, and she bit her tongue until she drew blood to stop herself from saying anything that had the potential to ruin it all.
Her memory flashed a vision of red hair and the sparkle of green eyes.
It was so, so much worse than what Andromeda did.
Bellatrix grew impatient with her panicked silence.
"Narcissa," she said forcefully. "Nothing can come of it. Do you understand?"
"Of course." Narcissa finally said, because that was the one thing she did understand. She was promised to another—even if she were not, there was little chance for anything to come of this utter madness she found herself in.
"Nothing, you hear me? As long as you understand that, I don't particularly care what you do behind closed doors. Just make sure no one, and I mean no one finds out. In fact, tell me nothing more. Carry on until graduation—then you'll become Lady Malfoy and you'd better forget all about this bloke, whoever he is."
Narcissa nodded again, and either her silence or the nature of the conversation had grated on Bella's nerves quite enough, for she gave Narcissa one last irritated look before standing and leaving, letting the door to the study slam on her way out.
Carry on, Narcissa's treacherous mind repeated, over and over. Carry on, carry on, carry on.
It should not have been what her brain latched on to. Carry on, it echoed as she packed her trunk, as she boarded the Hogwarts Express with empty smiles to her betrothed and his friends.
Carry on, it thundered in her head as her gaze met a pair or emerald eyes across the Great Hall. Carry on, it screamed from deep within her as she lay, hands entwined in red hair, under their secluded oak tree, far from the castle, their little paradise.
And carry on she would, for as long as she possibly could. She would stretch every limit ever imposed, for as long as her short time of freedom would allow her.
"You spoke to your sister? To Bellatrix?" asked an incredulous Lily Evans, cheeks rosy and lips puffy after Narcissa had carried on with her for hours and hours of fleeting bliss.
"Yes," Narcissa said, savouring every inch of Lily's skin and every corner of her beautiful mind, because in just over a year she would never be able to do so again
"And you told her about... about this? About us?" Lily pressed, her disbelief evident and completely understandable.
"In a fashion, yes."
"I don't understand. How..."
Narcissa silenced her with a kiss. How many more could she taste in the short time they had left? Their hours were so limited, so very fragile—it was senseless to waste them with words that had no more impact, no more power over them.
"Cissy...What... What did she say?" Lily insisted, and Narcissa felt her resolve melt under that raw gaze of deep, wonderful green.
She sighed, knowing the heartbreak would come much sooner rather than later, but unable to feel anything in that fleeting moment other than pure elation.
"She said carry on."