Title: When a Blue Sky Quakes
Prompts: Written for 'HedwigBlack's Weekly Challenge – Obliviate' and the 'Monthly Characters and Prompt' competition on the HPFC.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a trademarked brand owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any material used belongs to the aforementioned parties. This material is only used in recreational purposes and I receive no monetary or material rewards from using it. Please don't sue me.
Narcissa Malfoy is the only one in her family who loves unconditionally. That's why she's the only one to notice.
Narcissa sits in respectful silence at her husband's right. There's a 'meeting' going on in the foreground, so it's uncustomary for the unmarked housewife to be present, but with her upcoming pregnancy, Lucius has been hard pressed to allow his wife out of his over-protective gaze for very long. And normally this behavior would desperately irk Narcissa, but this time it's actually helpful.
Because Narcissa Malfoy has a plan. That's why she sits so demurely at Lucius's side; why she isn't paying nearly as much attention to the brainstorming that takes place in front of her as she normally would.
And Narcissa might not be talking, but that doesn't mean she isn't speaking. Throughout the meeting, she slowly, deliberately, twirls a piece of long blonde hair over and over around her pinky. It's very uncharacteristic of the pure-blood witch to show weakness through such a frivolous activity, (anything but perfection is perceived as weakness, of course) but this action has a special meaning and can easily be blamed on pregnancy hormones.
And it's quite difficult to scrutinize a person whilst trying not to seem interested in anything at all, but Narcissa manages efficiently. It's not much later when she sees it.
Across the table, seated down four or five seats to her right is a young man, his still slightly rounded face a sure sign of adolescence. His black robes are spotless, but he still takes the time to meticulously smooth out and straighten both of his finely pressed sleeves.
It's almost insistingly that Narcissa continues to play with her hair, eyes fixed meticulously on the wall so as to be able to watch the other man out of her peripheral.
He gives off no sign that he's noticed Narcissa's careful attention as unbuttons the top button of his collar, waits not even two seconds, and refastens the snap with careless ease.
'Thank Merlin,' Narcissa thinks as she's finally able to tuck the loose golden strand behind her ear. Her right hand moves down the side of her face to casually adjust her silver earring. Her cousin pauses for a moment before thumbing the House of Black crest embroidered on his chest in one clockwise rotation.
…
Although the room is empty except for the two of them, Narcissa is hesitant to confront Regulus outright. The tall blonde sent her husband away with a pointed look and a slight nod to the corner where her cousin lurked gloomily, and thankfully, Lucius had gotten the hint.
And Lord Malfoy has long since vacated the lofty room, but still, she waits. Although Regulus's behavior has been worrying her, Narcissa is hesitant to call him out on it, lest her woes be completely misplaced and she embarrass herself.
But deep in her heart, (the one many people doubt she possesses) Narcissa knows she's right to be concerned. There's been something… off with Reg lately. There's no one instance specifically that's triggered a warning in Narcissa's mind, but that means little to nothing. Regulus has always been a master of disguise.
While she's been musing, Regulus has become uncomfortable with the long stretch of silence.
"Well?" he snaps impatiently, "What do you want Cissa?"
Narcissa does not beat around the bush. "I'm worried about you," she confesses without shame.
When Regulus doesn't immediately respond, Narcissa continues.
"You haven't been yourself lately. You've… you've been – something's been troubling you." Narcissa isn't sure where this came from, but she knows she's hit the mark. Regulus stiffens almost unnoticeably, at least to anyone who hasn't grown up a Black.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Not true. His answer comes too quickly; tone too frantic.
"If you are going to lie to me," Narcissa replies with mostly flase irritation, "You should at least do it properly."
He glares back at her, but without the energy true anger needs. "Leave it alone Cissa," he warns, eyes desperate.
And maybe she should… but she can't, and she won't.
"Tell me," she insists.
"I don't-"
"Tell me."
"I haven't got-"
"Regulus Black, you will tell me who is worrying you so much, or so help me I will interrogate you 'till dawn and go after them myself."
Regulus snorts without humor. "You might be one of the scariest witches I know Narcissa, but not even you could go after the Dark Lord."
Narcissa inhales sharply, her already milky skin paling further.
"What?" she whispers, stepping closer to her youngest cousin. "Why would he- What has he done to you?"
Regulus runs a hand through shaggy hair that's long enough to cover his eyes, but not long enough to tie back. "Nothing, yet. It's what I've done to him that has me scared."
"Why? What do you do?"
"Why do you care so much all of the sudden?" Regulus asks defensively.
Narcissa frowns. "You're probably the closest thing I've ever had to a younger brother, Reg. I've always cared."
Regulus steps closer, his body half in the shadows, half in the light. "I can't tell you," he murmurs hoarsely.
"And just why not?" Narcissa is trying her hardest, but she doesn't understand why Regulus feels the need to keep something, that clearly holds such obvious importance to him, all to himself. "All I'm trying to do is make your life easier Reg! If I could teach you to apparate to the moon, you know I'd do it!"
Regulus's eyes trace the seriousness of Narcissa's expression before traveling slowly downwards to linger on her faintly swollen stomach.
He swallows painfully, and when he speaks, there's an all too telling raspy quality to his voice. "You're going to make an excellent mother one day Narcissa." It seems like a completely off-color thing to say given the conversation, but it isn't, not really, and the determination that riddles his next statement just serves to make Narcissa even more worried. "You will; I promise."
"How has that-"
"Narcissa," Regulus cuts in before she can start another tirade, his voice quiet but strong. He reaches out to clasp her hand in his, meeting her gaze with unfailing strength. "Please."
Identical sets of icy blue eyes meet.
Understanding passes between the two silently, and revelation chills Narcissa like ice water in her veins: Regulus's hand, possibly his whole body, is trembling.
Trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm.
And Cissa doesn't really know what's going on, but if it's enough to make a Black quake like a puppy, than it can't possibly be good.
Regulus is still staring at her; pleading with her to let this go. Narcissa squeezes his palm tightly for one second, two, tears welling in her eyes. She pulls away abruptly, letting go costing much more than it should have.
"Thank you."
Narcissa can't recall ever having heard her cousin sound more relieved, but as she watches Regulus walk out to the apparition point, she can't help but feel as though she's just witnessed the signing of a death warrant.
In fact, now that she has to, Narcissa isn't sure if she can live with her choice. Because if Regulus… dies (that too takes something from her, something that feels a lot like hope), Narcissa doesn't think she could bear to gaze at her reflection, not knowing if there was even the slightest chance that it could have been prevented. The depression alone would cripple her surely, if not outright kill. And then she knows what she must do.
She takes a deep, calming breath as she withdraws her wand from it holster on her wrist. She doesn't hesitate as she raises the point to kiss her temple.
(Narcissa Malfoy is the only one in her family who loves unconditionally. That's why she knows she can't live with this information)
"Obliviate," she whispers.