What Narcissa Knew
December 2006
Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this, and I'm not even pretending that it's mine. Don't sue me, you'll probably spend more on a lawsuit than I have.
Narcissa Black was nothing if not calculating. Beautiful and vain and aristocratic, yes, oh yes, she would not deny it, but more than anything else, Narcissa was careful. When Lucius Malfoy had been refused her sister's hand in his sixth year, due in part to his policy of tolerance and in part to his ridiculous hair, Narcissa had carefully observed, waiting for the moment when she could shed the mask of the golden haired younger daughter, and come into the Game in her own respect. When the brilliant golden boy, in his seventh year, openly supported the Minister of Magic's call for equality, Narcissa made her move, throwing the support of House Black behind him, without consulting her father, cousin or even her sister. Unwilling to lose face in the public's eye, her father supported the decision, but privately ranted, threatening her with everything from a loss of Hogsmead privileges to a Crutiatus and ultimately to disownment- which was only narrowly avoided because of the timely intervention of a certain blonde haired angel.
For all her ambition, Narcissa kept her word, and there was no way to smoothly break off the engagement that had kept her name on the Black Family Tapestry. And so on the day after her graduation, she walked regally across the threshold of the Malfoy Lands, head held high, hair flying in a wave of golden curls behind her. On her left hand was her eldest sister, Andromeda, in a golden gown, occasionally reaching to her neck and the simple muggle locked that hung there, containing a picture that symbolized nothing Narcissa would ever achieve. To Narcissa's right was Bellatrix, clad in a tight fitting, shimmering emerald gown that clung to her every curve. Her eyes were fixed above Lucius's left shoulder, where Rudophous Lestrange stood.
Narcissa envied her sisters' simple loves. They both, she knew, would marry for love. Narcissa was stepping into the Malfoy lands for convenience sake, and nothing more. Bringing up her eyes, she halted at the feet of the man she was about to marry. As marriages of convenience go, she thought to herself, I've certainly gotten myself quite a deal. Young, handsome, charismatic.. what else is there, really?
Lucius caught her hand, and she could feel calluses across his palm from flying. Slowly, she looked up, meeting his all too perceptive silver gaze. His lips curved into a sardonic smile, and he slowly, deliberately pulled off the silver band that only fit on his smallest finger, and slipped it onto hers. "With this ring I wed you, and claim you as mine," he pronounced first in Latin, and then in English, loud enough for the assembled witnesses to hear.
She nodded, jaw clenched, and pulled another, much more gaudy, ring from her thumb, and slipped it onto his hand. "With this ring I wed you and give myself over," she said in both languages, forcing the time-honored words out through her independent mindedness.
Lucius heard the feelings behind the words, and smirked down at her, shifting his grip from a light touch of their fingers to a much firmer hand encircling her wrist. He pulled her forward and brushed a brief, cool kiss against her lips. Drawing her closer, her murmured in her ear "We'll speak about future arrangements tonight, but for now, do act the obedient wife, won't you?" She nodded slightly, knowing he could feel even the tiny movement, close as they were.
After all, she thought, being Slytherin means playing your part, no matter what it is.