DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, etc. J.K.R. does.
Note: I am an ardent Snape/Lily shipper, but this story is Snape/Narcissa. Thus, this is just a theoretical little one-shot.
To Be Feared or To Be Loved?
Two rings. Two proposals. One choice that would change her life forever.
Narcissa Black, for the first time in her life, felt uncertain of herself. Before her sat two jewelry boxes. She stared at them despairingly, unsure which to select. Gently, she opened one, then the other, to admire them for the third time in the past quarter hour.
One ring had the sparkle of richness, undoubtedly paid for by the pocket change of rich Lucius Malfoy. He had ascended into his father's position of wealth this year with the death of the latter.
The other ring glowed with age, tarnish, and love. Severus Snape had told her it had been his mother's. How sad, since she died three years ago in that mental institution, he had no family but that dreadful squib of a little sister.
One ring had a gleaming, elegantly styled, golden band. On top, a heavy, faultless diamond perched. Lucius had showed her how to tell it was real, taking his knife and trying unsuccessfully to scratch the bauble with the steel blade.
The other ring had a silver band, rather worn but still quietly beautiful. Narcissa remembered the stone's dullness when Severus first brought it to show her: a once glorious amethyst with diminishing confidence. Yet, before her eyes, he had cleaned it tediously for hours until the ring managed to tide its hold among the best of its kind.
Narcissa closed her eyes and shut the boxes, one after the other. She opened her eyes again and began to ponder the boxes.
One box, made of black leather, had probably cost about ten galleons alone. It had a razor sharpness in its looks, and carried the fragrant odor of tanning spells. The bottom bore the imprint of its maker and country of origin: Ferdinand Machiavelli, Italia
The other box, though perfectly made, definitely had the look of a home project. Narcissa stroked the roughly stained wood, a dark oak. The clasp Narcissa recognized to be from the old snuffbox its giver used to keep on his shabby mantelpiece. No wonder it had not been there today. Along the edge of the top, carefully burnt words read: To my beloved Narcissa. October 15, 1977 A.D.
One box had been presented to her just an hour ago, a bit after dinner. Bellatrix was out playing with some man named Regulus, and Narcissa was alone in the house. The bell had rung, she had answered, and a man she had not seen for years stood on her doorstep. Lucius Malfoy entreated himself inside, and she had prepared some coffee. The man had not gotten any uglier from her school days, she reckoned, and definitely trimmer about the waistline. His speech had grown more refined, but more rhetorical with the smarminess of a prosecuting attorney. Narcissa could not decide in an instant what to make of him.
He had at first talked of chitchat, of old days, of old friends, of comfortable topics. Then, suddenly, he had drawn from his pocket the beautiful case before her now, and presented her with 'the' question. He said he missed her so much, and, now that he was in a financial position to marry, he wanted her. He promised a nearly infinite allowance to her, a mansion, servants, and an entrance into society. Narcissa, utterly startled, pleaded a day to consider. Lucius had acquiesced and slid out the door, charming and wry as ever.
The other box had been presented to her this morning. She had awaken, as often she had before, in Severus' bed. (Unlike the rumors fluttering about them supposed, Severus respected Narcissa's chastity, and never had intentionally provoked her to lose it. When she stayed overnight, he made his resting place on the living-room couch.) In any case, Severus had entered, almost smiling shyly. He kissed her forehead gently in greeting, then placed himself gingerly on the bed at Narcissa's feet.
He had no need for explanation when he presented the box to her. When she had unexpectedly stopped at his cheap flat in Spinner's End the preceding afternoon, he had been busy cleaning the ring. He had wanted it to be a surprise, he said, but she could stay if she did not mind knowing his intention to propose to her. Narcissa had simply kissed him dearly, then sat at his elbow to admire the dexterity of his hand and the thoroughness of his work. They had officially been 'going out' for a year and a half now. She knew he loved her entirely and absolutely, and that she found herself inordinately fond of him.
Narcissa put a hand to her head in exasperation. She stood from her place at her boudoir and stepped to the bookshelf. Selecting carefully, she drew out her favorite book of Notable Muggle and Wizard Quotations, then began to rifle the pages to the section entitled Love and Relationships.
She leafed through them, searching for a word of advice to guide her that would mean more than the others.
"It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all."
--Samuel Butler
No, not that one did not exactly help.
"Though a man may love food, and though a man may love money, a man may love food and money and not be a Man."
-- Elizabeth Monday
Narcissa did not understand why her friends liked that quotation so much.
"With the coming of age one discovers also the coming of love, be it for worse or for bad."
-- Rhett Monzo
That had its possibilities. But, Narcissa decided, it did not have any firm way of deciding her position for her. Tired, the girl began to close the book, but her finger got a papercut on one page. Narcissa, a very superstitious woman, reopened the Notable and found the page that caused the mild destruction to her hand. One particular quotation caught her attention.
"Which is better, to be loved and feared, or vice versa? Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved."
--Niccolo Machiavelli
Narcissa thought about this.
Love. This was easily definable; to be cared for by someone else as greatly as they cared for themselves. Of course, Machiavelli meant, in the case of ruling a province, to be well liked by the people. But, mainly, when Narcissa thought of true love, her mind presented an image of Severus. Darling Severus! A few years her junior, and who had been in Hogwarts still until the year he turned 17, but yet! A loving man, at least to her.
Opposing love, however, was fear. Fear could represent many things. Fear, in one sense, could mean that behind it was a horrible person. Or, simply, that the person had a great deal of power. Power came with money. Lucius had a great deal of money, and, hence, power. Did people fear him? Narcissa supposed so. She certainly did not feel at all at ease in his presence yesterday, and had always felt nervous around him even at Hogwarts. But, she remembered, Lucius had promised her money—and lots of it. She would have a certain amount of power then too, would she not?
Narcissa analyzed the situation for a long while. The quotation, if she followed its advice, meant that she should break her engagement to Severus and instead go with Lucius. Was this a wise decision?
She considered.
Yes, it was.
Then, before she could doubt her choice, she saw why the quotation had struck her fancy. The name of the author was Niccolo Machiavelli. Like the maker of Lucius' jewelry box. This ominous hint disparaged any misgivings in her mind.
Narcissa opened the box containing the diamond ring. With a gulp to restrain her tears, she walked to her writing desk to pen a letter.
My dearest Severus, . . .
I know that yesterday I as good as officially accepted your offer, as a natural and smooth course of action. However, cruel as this may sound, I have decided to abandon our love. Here is your mother's ring back. I hate myself for this, so know that I still have feelings for you. However, I have the intention to marry Lucius Malfoy, who has asked for my hand. Please be a friend to our new family.
Yours truly, sincerely, and utterly humbly,
Narcissa
Narcissa added her name to that of her Malfoy's a week later, in a small, quiet wedding at the Ministry office.
