The Black Rose
Rated PG-13
720 wds.
Lucius Malfoy had always been arrogant and proud.
This was simply the way he had been raised, not a fault of his, not a shortcoming. He was a Malfoy, born to raise the demons of Hell, born to walk with his head held high and his honor untarnished. He was a pureblood, a clean wizard, allowing the lower classes to lick his shoes and bask in his wake.
This was not going to change.
His mother wanted him to marry a Fortescue - an honorable family, but without a shred of cunning, without the distinct mark of Slytherin on them. They were, the rising Lord Voldemort would say, fools who wore their hearts on their sleeves - easily controlled, easily cowed. Lucius did not want a woman who would worship him, who would smile at him, who would wear red dresses and blush if he looked at her. He wanted someone young, someone loyal and easily pleased, someone who would obey his every wish as if she had none of her own. He wanted someone who could procure an heir he could be proud of.
He told his father this on the day he turned twenty years old, only two weeks before his unspoken engagement to Jenella Fortescue became reality. His father stared at him with cold silver eyes and nodded. In velvet steel tones, he suggested to his young son that the Blacks had three unmarried daughters that might suit him.
He scheduled a visit at once, and the Black parents told him they would be honored if he were to choose one of their girls. As a matter of fact, their father told him as if this was an unusual and wonderful gift, the girl he chose would even come free of charge. To make such a binding between such families would be a great step toward the cause they all fought for - the purification of the wizarding world.
Their names were Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. They were sitting in separate chairs of a dark leather when he arrived at the Black home, each looking at him with a different expression - Andromeda's of curious interest, Bellatrix's of cold dismissal, Narcissa's of shrewd calculation. They wore black velvet gloves that stretched up past their elbows, black silk dresses of different cuts, although all were strapless and came to somewhere above the knees, and fine dark shoes. He studied them carefully, noting that Bellatrix's dress was the shortest and he could examine her undergarments with ease.
Narcissa's hair was a golden shade, but accordingly her sisters both had straight black hair. Lucius shot the pompous Mr. Black a cold, offhand look that told him to depart immediately.
Andromeda, he decided as he watched them carefully, would have to be good to win over her sisters - she seemed to be along the same branch as the Fortescue's, her eyes betrayed her emotion and she looked almost afraid. Bellatrix looked somewhat too young perhaps, she might be less experienced than Narcissa, but there was something that put him off about the oldest sister.
There was a bedroom off to the side, prepared properly, and he decided that the final choice would be made there.
He beckoned to the youngest sister first, and Bellatrix stood wordlessly, still maintaining her cold look. Her sisters glanced at each other breifly, expressions unreadable.
It took only a few moments for him to make up his mind about the first sister. She was dark, and beautiful, and many things he wished for, but perhaps too cold. One of the others might suffice better. She was a possibility, but she might not be as loyal as the others, and she would require her own wishes to be fulfilled as well.
Andromeda was the middle child, and she was sufficiently appealing, but his impression had been correct. She was too weak, too full of emotions. She would be loyal, but she could break under stress. She would certainly not do.
Narcissa, as the last, seemed to make up for her sisters' shortcomings, and he made his choice before he was finished with her. She was what he wished her to be, and she would be whatever he needed. She was a Slytherin bred and born, and would be loyal to him if it meant her life. She was fiercely perfect in almost every aspect, and in those that she required changing, he could teach her very quickly.
And Narcissa Malfoy had a certain ring to it, he thought.
Lucius Malfoy had always been arrogant and proud.
This was simply the way he had been raised, not a fault of his, not a shortcoming. He was a Malfoy, born to raise the demons of Hell, born to walk with his head held high and his honor untarnished. He was a pureblood, a clean wizard, allowing the lower classes to lick his shoes and bask in his wake.
This was not going to change.
His mother wanted him to marry a Fortescue - an honorable family, but without a shred of cunning, without the distinct mark of Slytherin on them. They were, the rising Lord Voldemort would say, fools who wore their hearts on their sleeves - easily controlled, easily cowed. Lucius did not want a woman who would worship him, who would smile at him, who would wear red dresses and blush if he looked at her. He wanted someone young, someone loyal and easily pleased, someone who would obey his every wish as if she had none of her own. He wanted someone who could procure an heir he could be proud of.
He told his father this on the day he turned twenty years old, only two weeks before his unspoken engagement to Jenella Fortescue became reality. His father stared at him with cold silver eyes and nodded. In velvet steel tones, he suggested to his young son that the Blacks had three unmarried daughters that might suit him.
He scheduled a visit at once, and the Black parents told him they would be honored if he were to choose one of their girls. As a matter of fact, their father told him as if this was an unusual and wonderful gift, the girl he chose would even come free of charge. To make such a binding between such families would be a great step toward the cause they all fought for - the purification of the wizarding world.
Their names were Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. They were sitting in separate chairs of a dark leather when he arrived at the Black home, each looking at him with a different expression - Andromeda's of curious interest, Bellatrix's of cold dismissal, Narcissa's of shrewd calculation. They wore black velvet gloves that stretched up past their elbows, black silk dresses of different cuts, although all were strapless and came to somewhere above the knees, and fine dark shoes. He studied them carefully, noting that Bellatrix's dress was the shortest and he could examine her undergarments with ease.
Narcissa's hair was a golden shade, but accordingly her sisters both had straight black hair. Lucius shot the pompous Mr. Black a cold, offhand look that told him to depart immediately.
Andromeda, he decided as he watched them carefully, would have to be good to win over her sisters - she seemed to be along the same branch as the Fortescue's, her eyes betrayed her emotion and she looked almost afraid. Bellatrix looked somewhat too young perhaps, she might be less experienced than Narcissa, but there was something that put him off about the oldest sister.
There was a bedroom off to the side, prepared properly, and he decided that the final choice would be made there.
He beckoned to the youngest sister first, and Bellatrix stood wordlessly, still maintaining her cold look. Her sisters glanced at each other breifly, expressions unreadable.
It took only a few moments for him to make up his mind about the first sister. She was dark, and beautiful, and many things he wished for, but perhaps too cold. One of the others might suffice better. She was a possibility, but she might not be as loyal as the others, and she would require her own wishes to be fulfilled as well.
Andromeda was the middle child, and she was sufficiently appealing, but his impression had been correct. She was too weak, too full of emotions. She would be loyal, but she could break under stress. She would certainly not do.
Narcissa, as the last, seemed to make up for her sisters' shortcomings, and he made his choice before he was finished with her. She was what he wished her to be, and she would be whatever he needed. She was a Slytherin bred and born, and would be loyal to him if it meant her life. She was fiercely perfect in almost every aspect, and in those that she required changing, he could teach her very quickly.
And Narcissa Malfoy had a certain ring to it, he thought.
