Summary:
"Do you love me enough to put up with me?" ... "I love you enough to do anything for you."Disclaimer: Not mine, it's all JK's, idea by Liebling's Old Souls. I love N/L.
"You're such a prat, Black."
"You're such a player, Malfoy."
He sometimes thought that she never slept at all. Every night, no matter what time it was, when he would come down out of the dorm room, she would be sitting in the common room. She never paid attention to him, that was the annoying thing. If she had been waiting on him, he could have discarded her as pathetic and ignored her from that day on, but she never noticed. And it was an itch in his mind. She was always there, usually lying on the floor in front of the fireplace, drawing. Didn't she ever sleep? Probably not. And she ignored him. She never gave any signs that she noticed he had entered the room or left it. She usually smoked, and cigarette burns in the carpet were small patterns of flowers until it looked like they had been there intentionally.
And she was there tonight, as he walked down the steps in his pyjamas, her lean form lying on the carpet, still in rumpled Hogwarts uniform, holding a piece of charcoal. He just studied her for a minute, then went to stand in front of the fire, casting a shadow across from her paper.
She finished the line she was drawing, then looked up at him. "You're blocking my light," she said clearly.
"Why don't you move your paper?" he asked, sneering.
"I was here first," she snapped, sitting up on her elbows.
"Waiting on me, are you, Black? That's pathetic," he drawled, annoyed by her.
She didn't even deign to give a response. "If you want to think so, Malfoy, go ahead and feed your ego. I've got better things to do."
"Go back to your stick figures," he sneered, not moving an inch. Narcissa picked up her sketchbook, got up off the floor, and sat ridigly on the couch.
"Go away," she said finally, her voice filled with scorn.
"But you know you want me here." Narcissa gave him a cool look and he held up his hands. "Don't hex me."
Narcissa smiled, an icy flash of white. "I've had all that crap before. Why are you down here talking to me? Don't you have a girlfriend, Malfoy?" Her smile widened contempetously. "Oh, yes. A Gryffindor. That little red-head, right? Lillian, or somebody. But she's Muggle-born, Lucius." Narcissa surveyed him for a minute, then shook her head softly. "The lows you stoop to. Forgetting everything you stand for because of a pretty face."
Lucius's eyes narrowed. "You don't know Lily," he said softly.
Narcissa smiled. "Oh, come on, Lucius dear. Let's not fight over a Mudblood. She's not worth it."
Lucius didn't move and Narcissa shook her head. "Why do you like her?" Her voice was soft, sad. "You know it'll never work. She doesn't love you enough. To her, you'll always be another bad boy, somebody to flirt with. She'll go marry that Potter boy and you...you'll let yourself be heartbroken, Lucius. Things don't work like that. You always think you can defy fate, but you never can..." she trailed off. "She doesn't love you enough."
"And you do?"
Narcissa smiled. "I'll always love you."
Lucius recoiled. "Well, maybe I don't love you," he said harshly, but Narcissa still didn't flinch.
"Nothing is forever," she said softly.
-
"I heard Lily got mad at you," it had to be one A.M., and she had been awake all night. He knew, he had been watching her from the shadows of the staircase. He had been fairly certain that she didn't know he was there, and he winced as she spoke to him.
"So?"
"I'll never get mad at you." Her charcoal gently slid across the paper.
"You get mad at me all the time," he answered, coming down the stairs.
"Of course I do," she answered. Tonight, she was wedged in one of the armchairs, her sketchbook on her thighs, her black skirt falling down around her lap.
"Then why did you say you'll never get mad at me?" he asked, leaning back on one of the couches. Narcissa still ignored him.
"Because I love you enough."
"How much is enough?" Lucius asked, studying her. "Enough to put up with me? Enough to let me love Lily?"
"I love you enough to do anything for you," she said quietly.
"Then why don't you?" he asked.
"Because I'm waiting on you. You don't know how it is, Lucius. You won't last. Players never last. Love doesn't last."
"Love is forever," he said, fiercely.
-
"I...I broke up with Lily."
Night. He always meets her at night, the one constant in his life. It might be months, between meetings, it might be a week in a row they talk in the common room, always late.
"I know." Her voice is oddly sympathetic, her sketchbook shut on the table. She's watching him tonight, the first time she's ever done that.
"She said that I'd been cheating on her. With you." His sharp eyes bored into her, but her stare was the same, gentle and caring. "It was a huge row. We were screaming and everything and I don't even know why. I hit her and she slapped me."
Narcissa was silent. Her hair, as always, was perfect, blonde and straight to her shoulders, pale like the moon, and her clothes, like always, were dark, black skirts and dirty white shirts, rumpled and stained and always messy. He's pacing the room, back and forth like a caged animal. It is nearing two A.M.
"I mean, I don't even know why, why were we fighting? Some stupid thing, rumors, nobody cares anyway. I told her that she had messy hair and that her clothes were too big and that I wished she'd finally get some fashion sense." His voice was cold, but his words too close together. "I told her that she could go marry Potter for all I care. I told her that she deserves a prat like him because she's so damn perfect and she thinks she knows it ill. I told her that she doesn't know anything. She thinks everything will work out. Nothing works out."
"She doesn't know anything," he said, and a note of bitterness crept into his voice. "She thinks...she thinks a lot of things. She thinks she can change me, she thinks she can make everything better...nothing's better, nothing ever gets better and she doesn't even know who I am. She wants me to be like her golden boy Potter and I hate him. I'll never be like him, ever. She wants a good boy then she can go back to the good boys. What did she want me for, anyway? To play with the bad guys and see how she liked them?" His voice rose. Narcissa held out a cigarette and he took it, lighting it with a flick of his wand. He took a long drag. The glow illuminated his face very briefly, a knot of emotion and turmoil before he smoothed it out.
"I hate her. Little filthy Mudblood, she's not even worth me. What was I thinking? She's the shit of the earth. She can have Potter. I'm better than her, better than them...I'll always be better than her. She's a mudblood and nothing will ever change that...I hate her."
He fell silent, pacing the room restlessly, taking long, vicious drags on his cigarette until it was nearly gone. He threw himself down on the couch and stared at Narcissa, still watching him gently. "You were right," he said heatedly. "Make you feel any better? You were right and I was a damn fool. She was nothing. A filthy Mudblood. She is nothing."
Silence. The gentle sigh as the wood in the fire gave up its life, the roar of the flames as they burned, heartbeats and breaths. The soft rustle of Narcissa's skirts as she walked across the room to sit beside him, the rustle of his hair as he lay his head in her lap. Soft, stifled, broken sobs.
"I know," Narcissa said gently. "Shhh, don't worry," she whispered soothingly, holding him, stroking his hair, comforting him. "I'm here, I'm here. Nothing is forever."
-
"I feel so stupid in this dress," she murmured.
Lucius gave her a glance of amusement mixed with mild exasperation. "It's your wedding dress," he pointed out.
"I feel like I'm going to lose a thousand Galleons if I step on the hem," she said. "And the hem is so bloody long! Everyone is staring at me," she added.
"That's because you're the bride. Forget them, darling. Don't be so stiff." Still moving with the music, he moved his hand from her waist up just the slightest bit. Narcissa stiffened and nearly strangled him, her hands clutching at his neck.
"You know I'm ticklish," she accused. "Don't."
"I want you to lighten up," Lucius murmured. "Your first dance as Mrs. Lucius Malfoy. Dance, Mrs. Malfoy."
Narcissa relaxed a little as she looked up at his face, a slow smile spreading over her face. "Mrs. Lucius Malfoy," she said with a little sigh.
"You just think you like it now. Wait until tonight."
"I'm already tired," she said softly.
Lucius took her hands and gently spun her around before bringing her back to him. "You're beautiful tonight," he whispered in her ear.
"Took nearly three hours to get that way, not counting the five spa hours before that," she retorted, but Lucius grinned.
"It's worth it. You're the most gorgeous girl in the world."
Narcissa snorted softly her disbelief of that statement. "Don't lie. I see right through you."
"Mmm." Lucius pulled her closer. "But I haven't lied all evening."
"A new world record," she murmured.
"I meant it when I said I loved you," he said suddenly.
She laughed. "Of course you did. You loved me from the minute you saw me."
"From your messy hair to your prisine fingernails to your green toenails," he said, pokerfaced. She tapped her fingernails across the back of his neck and leaned her head back.
"Song's over," she said, and he leaned forward and kissed her, his hands on her waist and her hair brushing his cheek. Somebody--probably Sirius--gave a catcall and the crowd cheered. Lucius leaned back and looked down at Narcissa's faintly blushing face, into her still, delighted eyes.
"Let's keep dancing," he said.
"Let's dance forever."
-
"It's very cold in this house, Lucius."
"It's very late, you should sleep."
"I never sleep, you know that."
"I've seen you sleep sometimes."
"I never sleep. I only sleep because I want to dream."
"You don't want to dream, Narcissa."
"I always want to dream."
"...it's not like you think it is...sometimes dreams are frightening."
"I've never been frightened."
"You don't want to be."
"But I do...Dreams are the only things that last forever."
"Nothing lasts forever, Narcissa."
"Nothing but dreams."
-
"Lily Evans died today."
Lucius didn't even answer her, his eyes staring out the window. Narcissa sat quietly on the bed, watching him. "You still love her, Lucius. Just a little bit," Narcissa said softly. "It doesn't matter now."
"No, it doesn't," he said, and his voice was cold. "I joined Voldemort."
Narcissa gave a half-gasp, half-sob. "Lucius," she whispered, so low he could barely hear it. "I wish you hadn't."
"It doesn't matter, Narcissa. I knew she was going to die."
"How can you live with yourself," Narcissa whispered, so quietly he didn't hear her.
He only said, coldly, "Nothing is forever."
-
Flowers thrown discarded on the kitchen table, a bouquet of weeds as they hit the wall. "Why do you let Draco pick such weeds? They're low-class, not even flowers."
Narcissa's eyes, gray and cold and stormy. "He wanted to pick them for his Daddy. He wanted to be here when you got home. You're never at home anymore, Lucius."
Cold, curt. "I'm busy."
"Why are you so busy? You never used to be this busy."
"I'm home, all right? It's not just about a job anymore, Narcissa. You know how the Dark Lord is. He wants everything."
Arms around him, her face pressed against his back. A whisper: "Why do you give him everything?"
He wants to say I'm doing it to protect you and I'd die if you were gone, I'll do anything for you. Instead, he only says roughly: "Don't be so sappy, Narcissa. I'm going to be in power. I'm going to finally get those silly buggers out of the Ministry. I'll get rid of the Mudbloods, I know how you hate them."
She pulls away roughly. Her eyes are red but her hair is still perfect, always perfect like her fingernails. Her voice is hard: "You could go to Azkaban, Lucius."
"You have to take risks."
"I don't want to take that risk. I don't want to lose you."
"Nothing is forever."
-
The doorbell was unusual late in the day, and Naricssa arose herself to answer it. "Is your husband at home, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Her heart fell through the floor. Her mind spun and she could barely force the words out. "I'm sorry, is there a problem?"
The man at the doorway was brief and straight to the point. "Mrs. Malfoy, your husband has been charged formally with evidence of Death Eater activity, we have reliable proof of this activity and we would just like to ask him some questions back at the Ministry. I'm terribly sorry we had to interrupt your afternoon, could we see your husband?"
Narcissa had never stumbled in her life. She had been walking in stiletto heels when she was ten years old, never was afraid of heights, had never been seasick. Now, her stomach lurched and her head spun and she took a step back, nearly stumbling backwards. Lucius caught her.
"I believe I caught most of that," he said quietly.
"In that case, we'll need to take you back to the Ministry," the man said calmly. "You will come with us either voluntarily or we will apprehend you."
Lucius nodded briefly. "A moment." Not giving them a chance to respond, he turned to Narcissa, who was clinging to him like a child clinging to a parent. Gently, he pried her fingers from his arm, and took her hand as her fingers tried to pull him into her as if she could hide him from these people. "Narcissa." His voice was urgent, but his eyes were bright. "You were right. I'm sorry for putting you through all this. I'm sorry for everything. You have to take care of the house once I'm gone, take care of Draco. Don't worry, we have money that can get us out of this." At the mention of money, her eyes began to overflow and she couldn't hold back a sob that escaped her throat. Lucius took her into his arms gently stroked her hair. "Sshh. Be brave. I'll be back. I always love you, Narcissa. I love you."
She tried to hold back her sobs, but held onto him as tightly as she could, not caring if she was crushing him. The men at the doorway looked away awkwardly; they didn't know what to do about this sort of thing. Only the leader, a trained Auror, kept his wand and eyes pointed at the couple. "Come on," he said clearly.
Lucius pried Narcissa away from him gently as she fought to hold on. He leaned down and kissed her once, putting her hands together and stepping back as the men put magical bonds around his wrists. His eyes were composed.
Narcissa's eyes met his the moment before they apparated, and he mouthed three simple words.
Love you forever.
-
Narcissa sighed, pushing a wisp of white hair behind her ear. As she had aged, her hair had lost its gold sheen and turned just white, and was losing its perfection. She opened the scrapbook from her wedding, looking at the moving pictures of herself and Lucius dancing, kissing, smiling.
The pages were old, now, many of them yellowing. She hadn't looked at them in years. She hadn't even visited Lucius in Azkaban--at first she had been too angry, then too afraid of heartbreak, then too distant. Now, she barely thought about him. Except for today.
Drawings were all over the walls, in here, her bedroom. Simple sketches, elaborate portraits and paintings that she had worked on throughout the years. The Ministry were still after her to showcase her work for a fundraiser, but she never would. Her pictures were the only things she had left to remember by. Andromeda, Bellatrix, Regulus, Sirius, Mother, Father, Draco as a baby, Lucius at thirteen, Lucius at thirty. Everything--Hogwarts. The Great Hall, a huge painting she had spent weeks on because she didn't want to forget. The Slytherin common room, her rock by the lake, the chandelier above her favorite chair in the common room that she had done so long ago, that was almost, almostalmost her favorite piece. She didn't have favorites.
She had seen Lily's grave, and she had drawn that too, somewhere in her sketchbook. The lilies that somehow always got there, the same way that narcissus always came to the house somehow. Flowers for the flowers in his life.
She had loved him once, a very long time ago....
but after all, that was a very long time ago.
Nothing is forever.
Then what makes
Then what makes
Then what makes
Then what makes
Then what makes (What makes? What makes?)
Love the exception?
OutKast
Bloody hell this was long. I haven't done a wordcount, so if it wasn't that long, it felt long. Nearly three hours in the making. I'm having the painters in and am stuck on the phrase 'nothing is forever', so this not-so-little ficlet for you.