Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.
A/N: Written for Challenge ~ Forgetfulness at contrelamontre.
A/N2: Uhm, so I'm feeling rather ambivalent about this piece. No matter, let me know what you think about it – so please review!
A/N3: Ooh, it's meant to be finished in 45 minutes: I took 38 minutes.
There is a taste of indulgence, like hot chocolate, in the act of forgetting. Slipping memories act somewhat like a fail-safe mechanism and every other awkward moment can be salvaged with a quick apology, a charming smile.
Lucius likes to regale guests with tales of romantic dates Narcissa can never remember and she usually knows well enough when to nod and when to shake her head. He likes to exaggerate and Narcissa lets him have his fun. It makes it a lot easier for her to endure any social outing he proposes to have. She entertains herself in the absence of genuine conversations with a familiar face, a familiar voice and sometimes her lips move as if to speak and her legs make as if to stand - and that is when she must will herself to not remember too much, to forget a little more (or at least try to).
Narcissa keeps her memories of Lily close to heart, all locked up in a box of her own making and she broods over it in the rare times she is left to her own devices. She cries sometimes, she laughs more often and Draco looks at her curiously, Lucius a little more suspiciously. That is when she must forget; indulge in the blackness, blankness of no memories, of no remembrances.
Lily is like a ghost, is a ghost and she whispers, caresses against, past and through her skin - reaches in and at her heart and it feels a little like falling in love all over again with the feisty redhead many years her younger. She remembers the bruise on her thigh that developed from the collision, remembers the exact phrasing of the curse she let at Lily as she rubbed at the bruise, remembers the flare in Lily's eyes as she snapped back just as heatedly. Narcissa fell in love just once in her life. She fell in love with fire and it has been many years now since that fire has been extinguished, but it feels like she is still burning (inside, outside, throughout).
"You'll forget me once you're gone," Lily had said accusingly and her voice sounded thick as her emerald eyes burned with tears, she made no motion to stem the tears.
"I won't," Narcissa had told her and she tried to put her arms around Lily. Only Lily kept batting her hands away and she kept her wand close and Narcissa feared that Lily would hex her and how would she explain it to Lucius if she were hexed (and she tried not to think about Lucius already being furious because he had to wait for her when she should have been ready for graduation more than half an hour ago)? "I won't. I promise."
"You will," Lily murmured, but she sounded tired and she pocketed her wand.
Narcissa put her arms around Lily tentatively, kept expecting tentacles to sprout from somewhere and when ten minutes passed with no extra appendages growing out of her, she relaxed and held Lily more firmly. "I won't."
"You're marrying Lucius," Lily pointed out and tightened her arms around Narcissa's waist (like the mere physical act of keeping her close would serve in actuality to keep her close).
"Not because I want to," Narcissa whispered back and buried her face into Lily's hair. She smelled like her namesake, but in Narcissa's mind Lily still felt, smelt like fire.
"But you still are," Lily grumbled, sniffling and rubbing a wet nose against Narcissa's cashmere. "Kiss me," she said suddenly and not so suddenly (like the two words were something she had practiced over and over again, they sounded practiced and they sounded spontaneous; and they grabbed at Narcissa's heart like none of Lucius' extravagant gifts had) and the warmth of her breath tickled against the exposed skin of Narcissa's neck.
"Lily, we agreed -" Narcissa started to say.
"Please," Lily hissed and she leaned up to press closer into Narcissa.
Narcissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes, to sigh, to offer thanks to someone for giving her this one chance to make a precious memory. Narcissa Black kissed Lily Evans (chastely, innocently, a little awkwardly - but Lily tasted sweet, tasted sincere, tasted true and that was all that mattered) for the first, and the last, time in a broom closet with the rest of the school walking to and fro just outside, but for a little while it felt like there were only the two of them in the world.
"Mother," Draco's voice snaps her out of her reverie.
"Draco," Narcissa responds and she tries to ignore the way her voice sounds a little breathy, a little needy (and she has not sounded like that since she was seventeen and has just kissed Lily). She sits up a little straighter and throws her hands flat against her thighs to stop the trembling.
"Father calls for you," Draco informs her and he raises an eyebrow at her flushed cheeks. He thankfully chooses not to comment.
"I'll be there," Narcissa answers quietly and her eyes drop to her hands. She needs to forget a little more.
