A/N: Hey there! Welcome to my first Narcius/Lucissa fic. I've been a longtime reader of HP fanfic, as well as other fandoms, and have decided to try my own hand at it. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: The following characters do not belong to me. If they did, I would own a house by the beach and live in delicious relaxation. They are the property of the lovely queen J.K. Rowling and the people in charge of the movies.
"And he's got it! He's got the snitch! That's another win for Slytherin house! They're simply unstoppable this year," boomed the commentators into the crisp fall air. Young men in silver and green robes streaked across the pitch waving their arms triumphantly as black and yellow clad players spiraled dejectedly to the sand, the loss heavy on their shoulders. The cheering from the Ravenclaw stands was polite while the excitement radiating from the Gryffindor fans was nonexistent; a first year Hufflepuff could have pointed out the obvious rivalry between the lions and the snakes. All that was no matter, though. The whoops and hollers of pride from the Slytherin stands made it nearly impossible to hear anything else.
It was a Saturday morning in October and quidditch season was well underway. Slytherin house had already battled successfully against Ravenclaw and now had their win against Hufflepuff to chalk up under their belt; Gryffindor was scheduled to take place in two weeks, and with their champion winning streak up until that point, the snakes had little fear that they would be claiming the house championship. Under the guidance of keeper and captain Lucius Malfoy, anything felt possible.
Narcissa Black stood in the huddled mass of Slytherin fans clapping and cheering themselves hoarse as their victorious quidditch team flew by before landing to head to the showers.
"They were fantastic, don't you think? Merlin, those saves! Malfoy's really hit his peak this year!" Her sister, Bellatrix, elbowed her in the ribs with a knowing smirk. "I bet he's all hot and sweaty right now, peeling off his quidditch uniform, standing under the steaming water of the shower, droplets trickling down his hard muscular body-"
"Shut up!" Narcissa gave her sister a shove and pulled her green and silver scarf up over her chin, but it was quite obvious that the dark pink stain on her cheeks was not solely due to the harsh wind. She didn't need Bellatrix to put those kinds of images of the blond seventh year in her mind; her overactive imagination was perfectly capable of doing that on its own.
Bellatrix gave a witchy cackle – perfectly fitting, if you'd ask Narcissa – and hooked her arm in her sister's to guide her out of the stands towards the Hogwarts castle.
"Oh please, Cissy; you know I'm only joking. And you know I'm right. You fancy him like nothing else; it's pretty obvious, really."
The blonde glared tiny blue daggers at her sister's profile and gave a harsh tug on her arm. Her resulting stumble down a step pulled her lips into a satisfied smirk.
The Slytherin common room was even greener than it usually was, if that were possible. Students had transfigured parchment into green and silver streamers that hung in loops from the ceiling. Tables had been cleared off of the remnants of halfhearted study sessions and stacked with bottles of Ogden's firewhiskey, butterbeer, sweets procured through bribery of house elves, and pumpkin juice for the more sensitive stomachs of the little first years who were eager to join in the celebration along with the rest of their house. Everyone was bedecked in the house colors and eagerly milling about, a few of the older students having a competition to see who could get more drunk in a shorter amount of time.
All this celebration and the victorious quidditch team hadn't even arrived yet.
Narcissa sat perched on a window ledge, the verdant light streaming in from the window paling in its intensity as the sun outside began to set. In her hand, she swirled a small glass of firewhiskey, watching wistfully as the ice cubes clacked against each other.
"So. You going to talk to him?"
Narcissa nearly dropped her glass, starting at the sound of her sister's voice too near to her ear to be welcome. She shoved Bellatrix's shoulder, pushing her to an acceptable distance and skewering her with what she felt was a withering expression.
Bellatrix obviously thought otherwise as she cackled and clapped the younger girl on the back. "Please. Leave the sour little bitch face to me." Hopping up onto the ledge and squishing the blonde closer to her, she resumed her interrogation. "Are you going to talk to him?"
Narcissa pretended not to know whom she was speaking of and swallowed down the contents of her glass, the sting of the alcohol igniting a fire in her mouth and burning a path down her throat. On the contrary, she knew very well whom Bellatrix was referring to. That being said, she had no intention of striking up a conversation with him, if only because she knew that if she were to do so, she would stumble over every word that bumbled forth from her mouth and make a sodding fool of herself – something a Black simply did not do. She was supposed to be calm, poised, and icily cool. She was supposed to be intimidatingly respectable. She was supposed to command attention.
Around Lucius, she did anything but.
To be frank, Narcissa wasn't entirely sure what it was about the blonde seventh year that always transmogrified her from her normally stoic self into a blubbering buffoon. He was handsome, yes, but so were other members of Slytherin house and, she would hate to admit it, a few Ravenclaws. It was true that was he good at quidditch, but no one saw her flailing around the Potter prat. Was it because he was a pureblood? Once again, no. The Lestrange brothers were both purebloods, and although her sister mentioned how adorable it would be if the two of them married a set of brothers, she simply did not picture herself attached to Rabastan's side.
No, only Lucius kicked her heart into a frightening pitter pat, made her palms grow sweaty with nerves, made her mouth dry up and made it impossible to speak.
"Bella, you know I can't talk to him. I want to, but I just can't. I-"
With a wave of her hand, her dark haired older sister silenced her.
"Pish. You can very well speak to anyone if you just put your mind to it. You're always talking to Severus," responded Bellatrix.
Narcissa rolled her eyes, placing her empty firewhiskey glass on the ledge beside her. Severus was a couple years younger than her and she could talk to him because they shared a common interest in potions. Lucius, on the other hand… he was disarmingly handsome, a fantastic quidditch player, and practically perfect.
She opened her mouth to speak but found her words dying in her throat as the Slytherin quidditch team clambered through the passageway in the wall and into the common room to the cheers of rest of the house. Students crashed upon the players like a wave, each vying for a fragment of attention as they congratulated them on a job well done. From her perch on the window ledge, Narcissa could see the older Lestrange brother, Rodolphus, with his arm around his best mate's shoulder as the two of them sauntered to the table of treats, each grabbing a bottle of butterbeer for themselves.
Bellatrix hopped off of her seat, eager to join the revelers and greet Rodolphus. "If you're not going to marry my boyfriend's brother, least you can do is marry his best friend. I swear, if you don't talk to Lucius once tonight, I'm dying your hair red in your sleep." Offering up a feline grin, she waved ta-ta over her shoulder and rushed to Rodolphus's side, who released his hold on Lucius and picked up his girl in a dramatic swinging hug.
Narcissa gaped in horror at the retreating form of her sister and grabbed a fistful of blonde hair. She wouldn't dare.
Her eyes grew wide and she dropped her hair, combing her fingers through it to make sure it hung neatly to her shoulders, for just as Rodolphus had shifted his attention from his best friend to his girlfriend, the man in question turned his gaze to where Bellatrix had come from: the windowsill where she remained settled. His lips were pulled into a grin she couldn't quite interpret as he offered a wave in her direction.
Narcissa forced her features into a smile – or at least she hoped it was a smile; she wasn't sure if her face was cooperating since she felt paralyzed in her seat – and waved back.
There were many reactions that her tiny little wave could have elicited from Lucius. The first was that he could completely ignore her and turn back to his teammates to celebrate. The second was that he could completely ignore her and join in on the drinking game a raucous group of sixth years had decided to conjure up. The third was that he could completely ignore her and sprawl on a sofa by the fire. To be frank, she was expecting him to completely ignore her.
What she was not expecting him to do was to stroll over to where she was seated.
Breathe, Cissy, breathe, she thought to herself, chanting the words in her head like a mantra, believing that if she pretended to be confident, she would act confident and not fall flat on her face.
"Hey," he drawled, leaning against the wall next to her in the absolute picture of relaxed elegance. He brought his bottle of butterbeer to his lips and took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.
Confidence gone.
"Hey yourself," Narcissa replied in what she thought was a coy tone. Surprisingly, he seemed as if he accepted it as such and offered her a disarming grin. She never thought she would be on the receiving end of one of his signature smiles. She desperately wanted to keep it coming. "That was some fancy flying out there today."
His smile seemed to grow some, lighting his grey eyes with mirth. "Why, thank you. Hufflepuff really threw their best at us, but it looks as though their best just wasn't enough."
"I'd say. If only our keeper let in a few goals, maybe they'd be able to leave with some dignity," she teased. Merlin, was she flirting? Was she actually being successful in a conversation with Lucius bloody Malfoy?
He tilted his head back and laughed, running a hand absently through his slightly damp hair.
Narcissa couldn't believe her luck. She had actually said something that he found amusing. Imagine that.
"Hufflepuff? Dignity? Never thought I'd hear those two words being used in the same sentence," he retorted with a wink.
Her throat instantly felt as if it had closed, all air no longer capable of filling her lungs nevertheless powering her vocal chords into producing some sort of speech. Two faint patches of pink formed on the apples of her cheeks and her mind went helpfully blank. Just her luck that a simple wink would throw her completely off kilter. She was Narcissa Black. She was not supposed to melt into a pile of goo around a boy; what was she, some blithering schoolgirl?
The witty response that should have come next never did. She simply sat there looking completely transfixed, frozen to her spot. She wished the glass windowpane behind her would disappear so that she could climb through the opening into the great lake and drown. Perhaps she'd serve as a delightful little snack for the giant squid. Anything to get her out of the situation of absolute mortification she had managed to stumble into.
The silent seconds passed excruciatingly slow, seeming like hours. She had tried to come up with an intelligent response – something she was capable of doing under normal circumstances – but had only been able to produce a girlish giggle.
Lucius certainly seemed unfazed as he took yet another swig from his bottle and settled on the window ledge next to her.
Narcissa's heart thrashed wildly in her chest and her cheeks darkened as she shifted ever so slightly to allow him more room. Unfortunately for her delicate feminine wiles, space on their seat was not something Lucius seemed to want. On the contrary, he followed her movement so that his thigh pressed flush against hers and even stretched the arm that was not currently occupied with a bottle of butterbeer behind her so that it encircled her waist.
He took a deep breath, sighing casually, and rest his head against the glass of the window. "Some party. If I'd known this was waiting for me, I'd have caught the snitch myself."
Narcissa knew that the social norm dictated that it was her turn to say something. The part of her mind that was usually on top of such things, on the other hand, decided at that very moment to say to hell with the social norm. Awkward silence was the new black.
"That would've been funny, no? A keeper abandoning his posts to chase after the snitch?" She offered what she thought was a charming smile, but the voice inside her head kept chiding, stupid, stupid, stupid!
For some strange reason, Lucius didn't find it stupid. Once again, her lack of wit seemed to entertain him and he chuckled quietly. He sipped from his bottle before turning to her with searching steel grey eyes. They met with hers, penetrating deeply into her very core, petrifying her to the spot like a basilisk. She bit on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from opening her mouth and saying something idiotic. Hard.
Lucius's lips quirked into a faint grin before he opened them to say, "You're a fun girl, Miss Black. I do quite enjoy your company."
No amount of self-discipline or instruction in pureblood etiquette could have kept Narcissa's jaw from falling open in surprise. Her light blue eyes grew into wide orbs of disbelief and she all but shook her head to bring herself back to reality. Instead, she secretively pinched her thigh with the hand she had been resting on her lap.
Bollocks. What am I supposed to say?
In this sort of situation, what was it that girls did? She had seen some of the young women Lucius entertained, and they all shared similar characteristics: an overt lack of brains, bounteous breasts, and a nasal intonation in the way that they spoke.
Narcissa differed from these girls in every regard.
Perhaps she could summon up a few of their mannerisms? She had watched them giggle, place their hands lightly on his arm, lean in to him… No. One thing that Narcissa Black did not do – at least, not consciously – was giggle. She also doubted that there was very much room on their little perch to lean any closer to him, and touching him was out of the question. She would probably melt into a useless pile of goo at his feet; Merlin knew that she was already barely holding herself together with his arm around her waist.
Narcissa decided to do the only thing that she knew she had a modicum of mastery over: act demure. She lowered her lids, her thick lashes batting coyly, and offered him a tiny shy smile. "I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, that the feeling is mutual."
Lucius seemed to accept this as perfectly satisfactory and leaned in somewhat closer to her. His grin had taken on an almost predatory expression, as if he could devour her on the spot with his eyes. When he spoke next, his voice had lowered to a rumbly growl that sent shivers coursing through her. "I'm rather pleased to hear that."
Narcissa was utterly and completely helpless at that moment. Every shred of her being wanted to lean closer and end the inches of distance between them. She wanted to press her lips against his, feel the softness of his mouth, press her body against the hardness of his chest, card her fingers through his luxurious blond hair.
"Hey you two!"
Thankfully, Bellatrix had chosen just that moment to appear in front of them with two bottles of butterbeer in her hand and a beaming Rodolphus. Judging by his messed up hair and the reddish tint to both of their lips, her sister must have engaged her boyfriend in a celebratory snog sometime during her conversation with Lucius.
Narcissa was snapped out of her reverie and turned to welcome her sister with a small smile. She took the proffered bottle of butterbeer and pressed it to her lips, eagerly taking a healthy swig in hopes that it would help her gain her bearings after that little scene.
"Woah, woah, slow down there, Cissy! Don't want to get too tipsy, now do we? That's just not ladylike," said Rodolphus, holding up both of his hands.
Narcissa glared two tiny blue daggers, successfully wiping the smug grin off of his face as she took yet another swig. "Do not call me Cissy."
His eyes were wide and he looked hurt, much like a puppy dog that had just been ruthlessly kicked. "But Bella calls-"
Bellatrix swung her hand into his abdomen with a hearty smack.
"Ow!"
"Bella calls her that because Bella is her older sister and can do what she wants," she said, one hand saucily placed on her hip.
Lucius raised a single blond eyebrow as an amused expression crossed his features. "Is that so?" he practically growled into Narcissa's ear. A flush crept up her neck and across her face, dying her a light pink up to the very root of her hair – a flush that did not go unnoticed by the older Lestrange brother whose smile had been returned to his face as he watched the exchange in front of him.
She wasn't sure what had come over her, but all of a sudden, she felt a tiny shred of confidence. Perhaps it was the presence of her sister, which always seemed to have some sort of calming effect on her. Perhaps it was the disgustingly smug expression on that vile Rodolphus's face. At that moment, though, it didn't exactly matter why she was feeling like less of a dithering child, but the fact that she was able to give Lucius a response that did not sound like it had been taken from a five-year-old's story book. Narcissa pressed the pads of her fingertips against Lucius's chest, pushing him away a fraction of an inch, before replying, "Quit teasing." Her face had taken up its previous expression of slightly tainted innocence that made Lucius smile victoriously.
Bellatrix's eyes narrowed in scrutiny and she crossed her arms over chest. Well, this was awfully interesting. The same girl who said that she was incapable of having a conversation with the blond was now flirting. This certainly called for an explanation. Later. In the dormitory.
A pile of bottles of butterbeer and a slew of shots of firewhiskey later, Narcissa, her sister, and the two quidditch players that had been keeping them company sat on the rug by the fire.
"And WHAM!" Rodolphus mimed a swing of a bat. "I sen' tha' bludger wailing a' Cooper! Bloody chaser didn' know what 'it 'im! Almost feel sorry for the kid. Ickle third year, you know?" The alcohol had quite obviously impaired his ability to speak.
It also had impaired their ability to determine what was the appropriate reaction for something that was moderately funny. The story had the lot of them in stitches, Narcissa clutching at her sides to keep from bursting in laughter and Bellatrix hiccupping for air while being consumed with a fit of giggles. Lucius, lounging in an elegant spread of casual comfort, seemed to be the only one who wasn't so deeply affected. He had allowed himself a quiet chuckle, but it was nothing in comparison to the boisterous guffaw that tore itself from Rodolphus's throat.
The common room had emptied so that the only ones remaining were the four of them. The decorations hung limply from the ceiling and trash littered every available space. The house elves would have a riot after everyone went to sleep.
"That was quite the play, Lestrange. You and your brother are the best set of beaters this team has seen in a century," Lucius drawled.
Rodolphus looked ecstatic to receive this sort of praise from their captain. "And you the best keeper!"
Lucius shook his head and, pushing against the floor, hesitantly got to his feet. "And you the worst at holding your liquor. Up, you. Time for bed. We shan't keep these two lovely ladies awake any longer." Rodolphus scrambled up to standing, stretching his arms over his head and yawning dramatically. He scooped up Bellatrix into his arms, who simply hooted in laughter as he picked her up, and placed a big sloppy kiss on her mouth. Narcissa, somewhat scandalized by the display of affection, averted her gaze. Lucius extended a hand in her direction that she gratefully took, allowing him to help pull her to her feet.
"I enjoyed spending the evening with you, Miss Black," he said.
Luckily for her, Narcissa could explain away the blush on her cheeks as being a result of having had too much to drink that evening if it were necessary. "Likewise," she murmured, nervously catching her lower lip between a set of white teeth.
"I would like to see you again. For now, I'm afraid I must wish you goodnight." With that, he leaned forward ever so slightly and grazed his lips against her knuckles before disappearing off up the stairs to the boys' dormitory with Rodolphus in tow.
Narcissa stood rooted to her spot. The flush on her cheeks could no longer be described as a faint pink; it was the same burning red as a certain species of nightshade that grew off in the herbology greenhouses. Bellatrix stood opposite her with her arms crossed over her chest in the essence of satisfaction. Not only had she managed to talk to him that night, but also she had somehow charmed Lucius enough to incite a goodbye like that. How she did that, she didn't know. Perhaps there was a chance for yet. Maybe, just maybe, she could make him fall for her.
Narcissa collapsed in a wistful heap on one of the black leather chairs that circled the fireplace.
Bellatrix leaned over the seat and toyed with a strand of her blonde hair. "You're utterly hopeless, Cissy."
She most certainly was, and oh, did she know it.
A/N: Whoo-hoo, a chapter's up! Chapter 2 will hopefully be up soon. Please rate and review - it'll mean the world to me and help me come out with better chapters much quicker!