Draco lay on his bed unhappily, watching the sun travel through cracks in
the thick stone walls of the Malfoy mansion. He was sleepy, after staying
up all night.
The evening before, Lucius Malfoy had threatened Draco once more. Draco often found it in his best interest to stay up all night, just in case Lucius decided to carry out his threat. But either his father was too drunk or too tired himself to come and beat his son, so around five o'clock that morning, Draco had tried to fall back asleep.
But now the sun was creeping into his room, and he was finding it harder and harder to close his eyes. Finally he bowed to the inevitable and got out of bed.
"Good morning, Draco dear," Naricissa said quietly, not looking up from Witch Weekly.
"Morning, Narcissa." he returned.
Lucius came down the stairs; his eyes were puffy and red and his face was blotched. Draco laughed to himself. So his father had probably tried to come to his room . . . and he couldn't find his way, the old drunk.
"Why do you read these trash magazines?" snarled Lucuis loudly, ripping the Witch Weekly out of his wife's hands. He looked at the cover; Sirius Black was flashing a handsome smile at him. "Vile!" he shouted in disgust. "The man gets out of prison and suddenly he's the most handsome wizard on the planet!" Lucius eyed her angrily. "I don't want you reading these smut magazines anymore," he growled.
Naricissa nodded vaguely, and returned to her breakfast. Draco scowled. He hated seeing his mother give in like this, but both of them knew it was far better than allowing Lucius to lose his temper. He only did it at home; in public places he was the epitome of calm and composure. But once the great mahogany door of the Malfoy mansion closed, it was the opening of a more deadly power. And it hurt Narcissa far more than Draco would ever know.
Narcissa climbed the winding staircase up to her tiny alcove.
She reclined in her chair, in the only room in the house that was all hers, and did what she did every day.
Wish for what could have been.
"Will you be requiring anything, Miss?" asked the attendant politely.
"No, thank you," responded Narcissa, waving him away. She turned to view her small hotel room, and laughed softly, taking in all of the Muggle furnishings. It was a beautiful hotel, no doubt.
Lucius would hate it.
She shuddered, and pushed away the thoughts of her faraway fiance. Narcissa often tried to remember why she was marrying him, but it would always end with a talk from her mother, saying how she was never going to get married if she kept doubting herself.
Naricissa looked over at the bedside table. There was a tell-a-phone, and a Bible. Narcissa flipped through the pages amusedly. Muggles . . . what they would create to avoid magic. There was a sudden knock on the door and Narcissa jumped. She walked over to the door and opened it.
A young man, perhaps a year older than Narcissa, smiled brightly at her. He was tall and lanky, with red hair and bright blue eyes.
"Hullo, miss! May I be of service?" His eyes darted around the room and landed on the cage containing her owl, Felicity. "d**n Muggles. They're so lazy they insist on room service."
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief. "So you're a wizard . . ." She glanced at his nametag. "Jack Weasley?"
"That's me."
"What are you doing working in a Muggle hotel?"
"It's an entertaining job." he said lightly.
Narcissa happened to glance at his arm, which seemed a bit strange. He caught her eye and smiled. "Oh yes, I was in Quidditch before. Got hit by a Bludger, though. My grip on the bat's never been the same since."
"Wait- you're Whomping Weasley!"
Jack grinned. "That I am, Miss."
"Oh! How silly of me not to recognize you before! I'm sorry."
"Think nothing of it, Miss-"
"Narcissa. You can just call me Crissy."
Jack looked at her strangely. "Where'd you get that nickname?"
"Well, my mother hates-I mean hated-" She caught herself, feeling the uncomfortable past tense in her mouth, "names that are more than two syllables, and she thought "Cissy" would be a bit of an unfortunate name. So Crissy it is."
Jack laughed, a charming, deep laugh. "All right then, Crissy. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"You could tell me why you're working at some oblivious Muggle hotel."
Jack gave a her a look of mock anger. "Oblivious Muggle hotel! My dear, this is THE Muggle hotel! The Savoy! It's the most famous hotel in all England!"
Crissy laughed appreciatively. "Okay, Jack. Fine, why are you working at the Savoy?"
"Well, my wand arm got tore up pretty badly, and the doctor who fixed it wasn't so hot, so it's never really completely healed. And I couldn't be a Beater anymore."
"So you became a hotel attendant? Couldn't you work for the Ministry?"
"Nah. I'd end up really bored and set fire to something." They laughed together.
Jack smiled michieviously, "So, what brings you here, Crissy?"
"Well, I'm traveling through London, and I'm planning to meet my fiance."
Jack made a face. "Your fiance? You're only nineteen!"
"Yes, well . . . my father insisted on arranged marriage, and I love him and trust his judgement too much to say no. My mum died about a month ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Anyway, so my dad's really special to me. If this is what makes him happy, so be it."
"You're mad! Love is not a tool! It's an emotion!"
Crissy snorted. "Love is always a tool!"
Jack shook his head in wonderment. "So young. So cynical! Who is your fiance?"
"Lucius Malfoy."
Jack scowled. "That slimy git?"
"Hey!" Crissy punched him lightly on the arm, and Jack laughed.
"But seriously, do you love him?"
Crissy looked down at the floor. "Yes."
"You're lying."
Crissy's head snapped back up. "Excuse me?"
"When you lie, you look down."
Crissy stuttered for awhile. "Well-er-so! It's none of your business anyway!"
Jack gave a fake gasp. "Excusez-moi! Ve ver haffing such a vunderful conversatshun and just vook vat you've done vit it!"
"Since when did you develop the accent of a French man living in Russia?"
Jack laughed. "Fine! If you don't want to talk to me. But here, take this. Just in case."
He pressed a tiny sheet of paper into her hand, kissed it, and winked at her before walking away down the hall. Crissy stared at her hand for a long time, like the kiss was still there. Finally she opened it to reveal a note scrawled on a tiny bit of sticky paper on her palm.
"NARCISSA! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Up here, Lucius."
Lucius came up the stairs to Narcissa's attic room, panting like an angry dragon. "Why do you insist on sitting up here in this stuffy tower?"
"I like it up here."
"Well, I don't. See if I care if you suffocate and die."
"What do you want?"
"I'm going away for a few days. Maybe a week."
"Where are you going now?"
"None of your business, wench!" he shouted, raising his fist to strike her. She flinched, and he continued.
"I have things to attend to. Draco will remain here with you. Be sure he isn't allowed to fly, visit with friends, or go to Hogsmeade."
"Why not?"
"Because, Narcissa. He's a spoiled brat. He needs some discipline in his life."
"All right, Lucius."
"Goodbye, dear." He leaned forward, very close to Narcissa's face, and when most couples would have kissed, he whispered in her ear, "You know what will happen if you leave."
And with that he Apparated and was gone.
The evening before, Lucius Malfoy had threatened Draco once more. Draco often found it in his best interest to stay up all night, just in case Lucius decided to carry out his threat. But either his father was too drunk or too tired himself to come and beat his son, so around five o'clock that morning, Draco had tried to fall back asleep.
But now the sun was creeping into his room, and he was finding it harder and harder to close his eyes. Finally he bowed to the inevitable and got out of bed.
"Good morning, Draco dear," Naricissa said quietly, not looking up from Witch Weekly.
"Morning, Narcissa." he returned.
Lucius came down the stairs; his eyes were puffy and red and his face was blotched. Draco laughed to himself. So his father had probably tried to come to his room . . . and he couldn't find his way, the old drunk.
"Why do you read these trash magazines?" snarled Lucuis loudly, ripping the Witch Weekly out of his wife's hands. He looked at the cover; Sirius Black was flashing a handsome smile at him. "Vile!" he shouted in disgust. "The man gets out of prison and suddenly he's the most handsome wizard on the planet!" Lucius eyed her angrily. "I don't want you reading these smut magazines anymore," he growled.
Naricissa nodded vaguely, and returned to her breakfast. Draco scowled. He hated seeing his mother give in like this, but both of them knew it was far better than allowing Lucius to lose his temper. He only did it at home; in public places he was the epitome of calm and composure. But once the great mahogany door of the Malfoy mansion closed, it was the opening of a more deadly power. And it hurt Narcissa far more than Draco would ever know.
Narcissa climbed the winding staircase up to her tiny alcove.
She reclined in her chair, in the only room in the house that was all hers, and did what she did every day.
Wish for what could have been.
"Will you be requiring anything, Miss?" asked the attendant politely.
"No, thank you," responded Narcissa, waving him away. She turned to view her small hotel room, and laughed softly, taking in all of the Muggle furnishings. It was a beautiful hotel, no doubt.
Lucius would hate it.
She shuddered, and pushed away the thoughts of her faraway fiance. Narcissa often tried to remember why she was marrying him, but it would always end with a talk from her mother, saying how she was never going to get married if she kept doubting herself.
Naricissa looked over at the bedside table. There was a tell-a-phone, and a Bible. Narcissa flipped through the pages amusedly. Muggles . . . what they would create to avoid magic. There was a sudden knock on the door and Narcissa jumped. She walked over to the door and opened it.
A young man, perhaps a year older than Narcissa, smiled brightly at her. He was tall and lanky, with red hair and bright blue eyes.
"Hullo, miss! May I be of service?" His eyes darted around the room and landed on the cage containing her owl, Felicity. "d**n Muggles. They're so lazy they insist on room service."
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief. "So you're a wizard . . ." She glanced at his nametag. "Jack Weasley?"
"That's me."
"What are you doing working in a Muggle hotel?"
"It's an entertaining job." he said lightly.
Narcissa happened to glance at his arm, which seemed a bit strange. He caught her eye and smiled. "Oh yes, I was in Quidditch before. Got hit by a Bludger, though. My grip on the bat's never been the same since."
"Wait- you're Whomping Weasley!"
Jack grinned. "That I am, Miss."
"Oh! How silly of me not to recognize you before! I'm sorry."
"Think nothing of it, Miss-"
"Narcissa. You can just call me Crissy."
Jack looked at her strangely. "Where'd you get that nickname?"
"Well, my mother hates-I mean hated-" She caught herself, feeling the uncomfortable past tense in her mouth, "names that are more than two syllables, and she thought "Cissy" would be a bit of an unfortunate name. So Crissy it is."
Jack laughed, a charming, deep laugh. "All right then, Crissy. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"You could tell me why you're working at some oblivious Muggle hotel."
Jack gave a her a look of mock anger. "Oblivious Muggle hotel! My dear, this is THE Muggle hotel! The Savoy! It's the most famous hotel in all England!"
Crissy laughed appreciatively. "Okay, Jack. Fine, why are you working at the Savoy?"
"Well, my wand arm got tore up pretty badly, and the doctor who fixed it wasn't so hot, so it's never really completely healed. And I couldn't be a Beater anymore."
"So you became a hotel attendant? Couldn't you work for the Ministry?"
"Nah. I'd end up really bored and set fire to something." They laughed together.
Jack smiled michieviously, "So, what brings you here, Crissy?"
"Well, I'm traveling through London, and I'm planning to meet my fiance."
Jack made a face. "Your fiance? You're only nineteen!"
"Yes, well . . . my father insisted on arranged marriage, and I love him and trust his judgement too much to say no. My mum died about a month ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Anyway, so my dad's really special to me. If this is what makes him happy, so be it."
"You're mad! Love is not a tool! It's an emotion!"
Crissy snorted. "Love is always a tool!"
Jack shook his head in wonderment. "So young. So cynical! Who is your fiance?"
"Lucius Malfoy."
Jack scowled. "That slimy git?"
"Hey!" Crissy punched him lightly on the arm, and Jack laughed.
"But seriously, do you love him?"
Crissy looked down at the floor. "Yes."
"You're lying."
Crissy's head snapped back up. "Excuse me?"
"When you lie, you look down."
Crissy stuttered for awhile. "Well-er-so! It's none of your business anyway!"
Jack gave a fake gasp. "Excusez-moi! Ve ver haffing such a vunderful conversatshun and just vook vat you've done vit it!"
"Since when did you develop the accent of a French man living in Russia?"
Jack laughed. "Fine! If you don't want to talk to me. But here, take this. Just in case."
He pressed a tiny sheet of paper into her hand, kissed it, and winked at her before walking away down the hall. Crissy stared at her hand for a long time, like the kiss was still there. Finally she opened it to reveal a note scrawled on a tiny bit of sticky paper on her palm.
"NARCISSA! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Up here, Lucius."
Lucius came up the stairs to Narcissa's attic room, panting like an angry dragon. "Why do you insist on sitting up here in this stuffy tower?"
"I like it up here."
"Well, I don't. See if I care if you suffocate and die."
"What do you want?"
"I'm going away for a few days. Maybe a week."
"Where are you going now?"
"None of your business, wench!" he shouted, raising his fist to strike her. She flinched, and he continued.
"I have things to attend to. Draco will remain here with you. Be sure he isn't allowed to fly, visit with friends, or go to Hogsmeade."
"Why not?"
"Because, Narcissa. He's a spoiled brat. He needs some discipline in his life."
"All right, Lucius."
"Goodbye, dear." He leaned forward, very close to Narcissa's face, and when most couples would have kissed, he whispered in her ear, "You know what will happen if you leave."
And with that he Apparated and was gone.
