"We're dead already."
Her words echoed slightly against the cold stone walls, making her voice sound angelic. The light gleaming through the windows made her blonde hair glow like the sun, but there was no warmth radiating from her. There never was. He didn't care. He liked her cold exterior, her emotional detachment. He liked her light hair, her pale skin and her expensive clothing. But most of all he liked what was underneath. He had seen her soul, and he could not escape loving her. He had seen her loving nature, her tender care and her dry humor. It felt like he had loved her all his life. Or maybe his life didn't start until he fell in love with her. He didn't know. She came out of nowhere and ripped his heart out. There was no doubt she'd done it before. Her reputation as the "Ice Queen" proceeded her, but he had only appreciated her from afar. It was impossible not to, with those classically beautiful Black features. They all shared them, the Black sisters, but Narcissa was... different. Soft, yet cold as ice, calm yet fierce and full of joy yet so troubled.
They spent years together in the same common room before they saw each other, truly saw each other, for the first time. And once that happened, there was no going back. They had plans. Marvelous, naive plans. A bright future, a mansion, a family and a happy ending. But then reality set in, and they were separated. She was given to Lucius Malfoy and married within months, and it hurt so deeply he could hardly admit it.
They did not speak for years, and he coped. He kept track of her, of course, but did not approach her. She showed no love for him anymore, and he didn't bother her. She moved to France and he chose to look the other way. For a long time, he let his money, pride and reputation rule his life. Known as the wealthiest bachelor in England he lived a good life. But then she came back. He saw her at one of the socialite parties. No one had warned him of her return, and the sight of her across the ballroom made him choke on his drink. She looked like a woman; not even the smallest hint of the girl she used to be remained. And she was breathtakingly beautiful. His voice did not betray the chaos inside of him as he greeted her, and neither did hers. But her eyes told him everything, and they fell into a dark, tragic place with no chance of ever getting out. It was love, and no matter how hard he tried to shake it it wouldn't go away. So he was trapped, and he let her toy with his emotions for far too long. After a while, they both realized what a hopeless situation they were in and they started to fall apart. Not their relationship, their affair, but bits of their souls fell apart. Rumors were flying around, people whispering behind their backs. She told him she didn't care, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. And as the world around them crumbled under the weight of the war, so did they.
So when they spoke about the risks of him fighting in the war, the risks of him dying, she fixed her gaze on the gardens outside the window, and spoke softly. We're dead already. And he nodded, because he agreed.
She turned her fair head to look at him. "We were never alive, because they didn't let us."
"I know," was his reply. There was no hope in his voice, for it had been taken away from him a long time ago. It was the price of their affair, the price of their love.
"I don't want you to die, but it feels like… it doesn't matter if we live or die anymore."
He didn't know what to reply, so they simply sat in that room until they couldn't bare it anymore and she left. He didn't know it then, but that was the last time he would ever see her. All that remained was her scent, lingering in the room. He wished things were different as he lay in bed that night. That they would have run away from the expectations and rules. But when he eventually was overpowered in that dark alley, several weeks later, and realized he wouldn't make it, he thought that he did not regret a single thing. And as the spell hit him, he sent his goodbyes and love to her, for the last time before embracing the darkness. He knew she would hear it.