This story is slightly AU; I'm aware that the Triwizard Tournament was banned in 1792 and not reintroduced until 1994, so in this era it wouldn't have really occurred. But for the sake of this fic, if it had, I'm going to assume the age limit wouldn't have occurred either (since that, too, wasn't introduced until 1994). Lucius is the Hogwarts champion, and he is in sixth year. Narcissa is in fifth, Andromeda is in seventh, and Bellatrix is nineteen and has already left Hogwarts. The fic is from Narcissa's POV. Hope you enjoy :)


November 1st, 1970

It was a peaceful morning in the Great Hall when Avery asked me what I was doing, and I first thought: one, I'm trying to finish my Potions essay (strictly not involving anything to do with the Triwizard Tournament, or that boy who just became Hogwarts champion last night); two, attempting to ignore any and all mention of said Triwizard Tournament or Hogwarts champion; three, constantly glancing around for Andromeda, who is frighteningly showing up less and less in my life; and four – simply replying him with a shrug. 'Oh, not much.'

He said, 'Hm. Okay.'

There was every matter of disbelief in his voice. Avery had never been a close friend; he was two years below me, a third year, but we Blacks were affiliated with the Averys, and he had always been kind to Andromeda and I (Bellatrix too, or at least until those summer holidays she decided to start practicing the Cruciatus Curse). I took a moment to compose myself, suddenly aware of how tired I must've looked, and gave him a convincing smile. 'I'm just a little tired. Lots of homework, you know?'

'Yeah.'

Of course he didn't really know, because he was only a third year. I was about to ask him what he, in turn, was doing, and we'd probably get into a lovely discussion about blood purity and welfare, when suddenly the Great Hall erupted into loud, explosive cheers. This usually happened on the morning of a Quidditch match upon the entrance of said Quidditch players, but this was no Quidditch match at all; even some of the Gryffindors were clapping reluctantly. Most of the Slytherins around us got to their feet. I didn't need to look up; I knew what had happened.

Lucius Malfoy had walked in.

Of course, I pretended to remain completely oblivious to this fact, and suddenly the Potions essay beneath my fingers became extremely engrossing. I mean, I had to hand it in to Slughorn by midnight, or he said he'd give me a detention. Of course I was intent on finishing it.

Which meant I had no interest in Mr Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Hogwarts Champion, Prefect And Perfect At Everything Lucius Stupid Malfoy. Through the corners of my eyes, I watched as he passed me by and took a seat next to Evan Rosier, who immediately cracked a joke and the whole group of them laughed.

Pft.

The whole school seemed to suddenly see Lucius as some sort of hero. I mean, sure, he was captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, their finest chaser in a fair few years (not that I knew much of Quidditch), and he was a school prefect. But Lucius wasn't exactly popular. Not outside of Slytherin, anyway.

I'd seen him punish first years before, deduct points from little Gryffindors, knock Hufflepuffs off their brooms. Outside Slytherin, Lucius Malfoy was hated by almost everyone – I even hated him myself.

And it was horrible, because I had to put up with him outside of Hogwarts as well. The Blacks had always been close with the Malfoys; every grand ball we attended, every gathering we hosted, every pure-blood social celebration we attended – Lucius Malfoy and his family were always there.

It was a worrying thought too, how close our families were. The thought was tiny, a nightmare in the back of my mind… but what if Mother actually wanted me to marry him? She did talk of him a lot. And it was praising talk, too.

'Oh, what about that Lucius Malfoy?'

'Lucius Malfoy is over by Mr Rosier, Narcissa, why don't you go and join him?'

'Do you talk to Lucius Malfoy much?'

Bella, however, thankfully saw past Mother's horrible taste: 'You can do so much better than him, Cissy.'

But the worst part of it all was that he liked me – Lucius Malfoy liked me – well, everyone said so, anyway. I'd caught him staring at me a few times, and once in third year he even asked me out, though I'm yet to discover if that was for real or just Evan Rosier's idea of a dare. Regardless, I refused him, and have no interest in uncovering the truth (or lack of) behind his feelings.

And just last night the idiot had been named Hogwarts champion for the Triwizard Tournament. I could see the basis of it: he was physically strong, fast, quick-thinking, intelligent and talented. And that was the whole stupid problem, because what if he actually did well?

Secretly, I found myself hoping he'd fail. Perhaps he'd get himself humiliated. Even killed.

Good riddance.

The first task of the tournament was in only two weeks time.

'Narcissa?'

It only just occurred to me that Avery had been trying to get my attention. I looked over. 'Yes?'

He laughed, rolling his eyes. 'And you're telling me you don't like Malfoy?'

Oh, great. Now the damn boy had entered what could have been our lovely conversation - what happened to blood purity and welfare?

'Like him?' I repeated, pulling a face. 'I hate him, you know that.'

'Mhm.' Avery began to spread jam on his toast, but he didn't take his eyes off me. 'That's why you were just staring at him, right?'

'I wasn't,' I said bitterly, scribbling down more words on my essay before my face could flush. I was almost finished. 'Hogwarts champion or not, I hate him.'

Avery opened his mouth to reply, but shut it instantly. I frowned, looked at him – and then understood.

'Good morning, Narcissa.'

Lucius Malfoy was standing right behind me. I was going to turn around, but quickly caught myself, and did not even move an inch. 'It's Miss Black, actually.' Then I continued to write. By stirring with the rod five times, the concoction should hereby turn a clear, pale blue, and…

'Is that a Potions essay?'

I scowled, though unsure if he could see, and leaned over the parchment defensively. 'Don't you have interview practice to go to, Malfoy?' I asked, in my coldest voice possible.

He must have made a sour face, because Avery's mouth suddenly bottled up with laughter, and he forced himself to look at the floor. I heard Lucius clear his throat. 'Actually, I'm free this morning, and I was wondering if you'd like to go for a walk?'

I turned around and looked at him now. He was standing rather awkwardly, hands behind his back, sleeves pulled down, grey eyes on mine. His blonde hair was unusually messy today. I raised my eyebrows. 'Yes.'

He stared at me, open mouthed, clearly amazed that I was going to accept.

Or so he presumed.

'Yes, I would like to go for a walk,' I went on, 'but not with you, Malfoy.'

I decided I'd reached the extent of my essay work; I'd have to find Andromeda and ask her for help with the rest. 'See you later, dear,' I said to Avery, folding the parchment up and tucking it away in my schoolbag. 'I have to find my sister. Have a nice day.'

And then I was out the doors without another word, bag slung over my shoulder, Lucius Malfoy staring wordlessly after me.