House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 1483
Category: Standard
Prompt(s): [Speech] "How come we have to do it this way?"
Year: Head
"How come we have to do it this way?" asked an exasperated Narcissa Black, her blonde hair in an elaborate updo that she was ashamed to say she couldn't recall the name of.
Her mother let out a little sigh from behind her, doing up the last button on Narcissa's stunning ivory dress. They stood in one of the many back rooms of a breathtaking wizarding chapel in London - preparing for one of the most important moments of a young woman's life. Marriage. Narcissa loved the notion. She would be getting married to the man she loved, to a man she knew loved her, and that was beautiful.
She just didn't see why there had to be such a big fuss, couldn't quite comprehend why they had to invite every pureblood that her mother knew - which was apparently a lot, seeing as the guest list was over one-hundred people. Her mother knelt down to fix the skirt of the gown, her eyes narrowing as she tried to focus. Narcissa waited for an answer, letting the silence seep into her soul.
"You know why," was the mumbled response as her mother moved away a tad to look over her handiwork. Narcissa couldn't help but scoff - she obviously didn't know why, or she wouldn't have been asking. She turned around to face her mother, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
"I don't, actually," Narcissa stated, "no one seems to be willing to tell me why my wedding must be so elaborate."
"It's tradition," her mother explained simply, moving to gather the veil. Narcissa couldn't argue with that.
0-0-0-0
"How come we have to do it this way?" Narcissa asked quietly, slightly annoyed with the unnecessarily long wedding vows. Her perfectly sculpted brows were furrowed slightly, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. She looked questioningly at Lucius, switching her gaze between the priest and her soon-to-be husband.
"I can't be the only one to think that these are far too drawn out," she whispered, trying not to be overheard by the priest who continued to drone on and on.
Lucius only smiled down at her lovingly, causing a blush to coat her cheeks. Before he could reply the priest turned towards the two of them, a smile on his face - he was obviously pleased to have been chosen to preside over such a prestigious wedding.
"Do you, Lucius Malfoy," he began, "take Narcissa Black to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
Lucius smiled brightly over at her, causing a blush to coat her pale features. "I do."
"And do you, Narcissa Black," the priest continued, gaze moving towards her, "take Lucius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
She smiled up at Lucius lovingly, unable to tear her gaze away from him. "I do."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride."
Lucius hadn't even waited for the wizard to stop speaking before sweeping her into a short, sweet kiss. She smiled at him as they began heading towards the reception parlor, entwining their hands together.
"You never answered my question you know," she said, her tone light and playful.
"It's tradition," he chuckled, placing a soft kiss to the top of her head. She smiled, she didn't have any reason to argue with that.
0-0-0-0
"Why do we have to name him like this?" asked a hesitant Narcissa Malfoy as she held her newborn son in her arms.
As much as she loved her husband, she didn't quite understand why he needed his first name to be their son's middle name. Her brows furrowed as he shook his head, letting out a tired chuckle in response to her question. He finished signing the birth certificate before looking up at her and their little baby boy. She could see how happy he was, though she was uncertain whether it was because he had a child in general or just because he now had an heir. She tried to push those thoughts out of her mind, they were a real family now, he would be just as loving towards little Draco as he was towards her.
"Darling, you know perfectly well why we're naming him like this," he replied, moving to sit next to her on their bed and staring down at his son.
Draco's eyes snapped open and he smiled up at his father, reaching up to grab the long platinum strands that hung loose from Lucius' ponytail. She watched as he undid his hair tie and wore his hair down for once, allowing Draco to play with the locks of silky hair. Lucius was right though, she knew why they had to include Lucius' name, perhaps she just wanted to hear him say it. She looked questioningly up at him causing him to give her a tired smile.
"It's tradition," he stated simply, moving forwards to kiss Draco's forehead. Narcissa found herself reasonably annoyed that she had no retort to that.
0-0-0-0
"How come we have to do it this way?" she asked, eyes pleading with him. Trying to warn him, this was no life for them, for Draco. He looked away, gaze moving guiltily to his left forearm. Her eyes widened at the mark that lied there, a hideous looking mark that made her feel nauseous.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked softly, eyes gathering tears in the corners. She couldn't believe that he hadn't conferred with her before making such a rash decision. She understood that many purebloods were joining Voldemort, they felt he would win - and they all had reasonably fair alibis in case he didn't. But she didn't want this, not for herself, not for Lucius, and she sure as hell didn't want this for her son. Her precious little Draco who was almost one year old.
"Yes love, I do," he replied, "I helped us be on the winning side. That's what Malfoys have to be, winners."
"You don't have to be," she tried to plead.
"I do darling," he began and she could almost hear his next words before he spoke them, "it's tradition."
0-0-0-0
"How come we have to do it this way?" she asked as they took Draco the train station yet again, shipped him away for another year of being prejudiced and feeling like he was better than everyone else. Narcissa loved Draco to death, but she couldn't stand to see what he was becoming. He barely acted stuck up, unless he was in Hogwarts where Lucius had tasked Severus Snape with keeping a watchful eye over the young Slytherin. She didn't understand why Lucius needed to give their son a 'you're better than everyone else' pep talk before boarding the train. It was ludicrous.
"Cissa my love," he replied, "this is the talk my father always gave me, and his father always gave him, and his father before him."
She sent him a glare that was barely playful anymore, watching him ignore her gaze as the train departed. Her gaze turned to face forwards too, eyes softening as she waved farewell to Draco, a smile taking over her features when he waved back. The scarlet train quickly disappeared and she was able to continue her conversation with her husband.
"I still don't' see why-" she tried but was cut off by Lucius' exasperated voice.
"Because it's tradition." She despised how those two words could effectively end their arguments.
0-0-0-0
"It does not have to be this way!" she shouted at him, not caring that she was disturbing her son who undoubtedly sat in the parlor. Summer was nearing its end, but that was the least of her worries. No, what was more troubling was the fact that Lucius had somehow thought it a good idea to reinstate himself as a Death Eater. She had enough of this.
"It does!"
"No, Lucius," she shouted, not willing to rehash the same argument they'd had the last time he'd joined Voldemort's ranks. "I don't care if winning is a Malfoy tradition, I don't care that joining Voldemort will fulfill that, because this is not a tradition I am willing to partake in!"
He scowled at her, eyebrows furrowing and mouth forming a thin line. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying," she replied icily, eyes glaring daggers at him, "that you can join his ranks again. But that I will not have any part of it."
And with that she stormed to her quarters and thought sullenly over her life thus far. How had it become such a disaster? When had she gone from having a loving relationship to fighting almost constantly, when had they gone from sharing a room to having separate quarters? She decided that it was when Lucius had chosen traditions over her. And even though she couldn't fathom how she'd gotten to this point, she did know one thing…
She was one-hundred percent done with tradition.