Disclaimer: I'm rightfully entitled to nothing.
Author's Note: All right, big hearty apologies to all who've received more than one inbox alert for this story; however, when YouTube's XFactorUSA channel reports, "uploads have not yet been made available in your country," (which is Scotland at the moment), I spaz out and fail to properly edit and insert the horizontal lines to indicate scene changes. I'm still so shocked, in fact, that I'm sure all the mistakes have not been eradicated. My apologies, should this be the case. Anyway, Happy *early* Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrate the holiday and for those who don't, umm…this is my gift to you? Yes, that's it. Okay, I've a flight to catch, pronto! Enjoy!
~My Rare Lady~
Lucius massaged his aching shoulder, head lifted, as he fixed a murderously glare upon his father.
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" His mother chided minutes before, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she stomped away from the injustice of it all.
It's injustice all right.
Abraxas Malfoy was strange-an anomaly, even. This man, the infamous attention-seeker, lobbied to make great number other the old families pale in comparison to his own.
How had he gone about this?
Betrothal.
A betrothal to a Black daughter—Cygnus Black's youngest—quite literally, the fairest of them all.
What was his current objective?
Separation.
Abraxas Malfoy now demanded the expulsion of said betrothal, with no better basis than his own misguided paranoia.
If one abdicates, won't the other?
Lucius, truth be told, understood the sense of unease. The revelation shocked them all, but this did not validate him being an irrational prick. Abraxas knew nothing of Narcissa, nothing of her character. Her physical attributes were her only worth, if he were to tell the tale. The arrangement would have been fine, were it not for this untimely scandal, for he could be assured model grandchildren.
Pale skin, flaxen hair, grey or blue eyes.
The envy of the masses.
Reconciliation was not in the works. Breakfast was ruined. The son cried "foul," his mother, "composure," his father, "refinement."
He displayed none.
Abraxas Malfoy's conception of refinement was to allow an ancient family heirloom, that blasted walking stick, to all but puncture the eyes of wife and son.
And when son defended mother, agreed with mother, he was struck.
"That, Lucius, is but an appetizer of what awaits should I find you in her company."
Content with having delivered his final word, Abraxas collapsed into an armchair just as Lucius rose, forsaking his embarrassing position.
"Just where are you going?" The aging aristocrat demanded, as though anyone would relish being in his presence.
Lucius wrinkled his nose, buttoning his pea coat as he quickly descended the steps of the manor.
Taken aback by the distressed sobs, Lucius fought to steady the woman he hoped would one day be his future mother-in-law.
"Get a hold of yourself, woman!" Cygnus Black barked, striding from the adjacent room, face masked in fury, although Lucius could discern the dark haired gentleman prayed his usual tone would conceal this manifestation.
Stunned, Lucius stepped over the threshold into Black Manor shortly after Cygnus pulled a distressed Druella from the young man's shoulders. He retreated to the drawing room, having narrowly evaded a crystallized swan as it leapt from above and smashed to the floor.
"Sheees on the lanaiiii."
Lucius turned sharply, cold grey eyes boring into a sulky, slurring Alexander Nott.
Man, you look like shit.
Nott had taken the news of Andromeda's elopement particularly bad. Dark circles claimed residence under his eyes, his features were more pinched than usual, he reeked of firewhiskey, and looked as though he'd the crying had been non-stop.
Looks like Moaning Myrtle won't be the only bitch at Hogwarts after Christmastime.
"What's happened, Nott?" Lucius asked pointedly. He hadn't aimed for harshness, but this was perhaps the only method by which to pull him from this stupor.
"Soddd off, Malfoy." Nott snorted, an elbow propped on his thigh as he held his head. "Youuuu know perfectly well what's happened."
Lucius's silence, clearly the equivalent of physical pain, gave Nott the go-ahead to weep unrestrictedly. Nauseated at such a blatant display of femininity, he abandoned the space, leaving the blubbering wreck to his lonesome.
I'd leave as well, if that's any indication of what the marriage would entail.
The journey to the lanai had not, by any stretch of the imagination, been an easy one, what with house elves scurrying as they punished themselves and Bellatrix, curls rampantly wild, even for her, violently flinging a slew of picture frames over the staircase.
"Hello, Lucius."
Narcissa abstained from facing him, although the straightness of her back managed to exude conceit.
"Nar—" He longed to ask why she sat, carelessly, in the frigid December morning air, but held his tongue out of sensitivity. Sighing, Lucius walked forward and took the seat next to his fiancée. For how long, he wondered, did she hope to stare into the distance at the snow covered trees?
At last, the tension broke.
"I suppose you've come for this." She wriggled her fingers and grey eyes fell upon the five carat diamond ring.
The wind blew, whisking ruthless gusts about the lanai.
Lucius gulped, feeling the epitome of an idiot as he waited with bated breath, as if what she would say could inflict harm upon him.
"And if you have," she sniffed, reaching out to take his hands, "I'm afraid I must disappoint you." She smiled, gently, brushing a rogue strand of hair from his face before planting a kiss on his lips. "Yesterday's events have left no stains upon my honor. Tell your father that."
Lucius blanched, mesmerized for a moment by her decisiveness. Indeed, it was a rarity to keep one's cool in light of a tragedy, but finding someone like Narcissa was even more infrequent. Few women carried themselves so collectedly; few possessed the insight to reveal nothing which may leave them susceptible. Grinning, Lucius pulled Narcissa to her feet. He smirked at the predictability of the expression soon to veil his father's face.
"Holiday going well?" She probed, squeezing his hands so as to inspire dance.
He acquiesced her wish, sourly replying, "Not even."
The ensuing laugh was so gleefully ordinary that Lucius speculated no tears were spent. Maybe Narcissa gained knowledge of the mess but stayed silent, believing her sister capable of seeing reason.
Fat chance.
"Get me out of here." She gasped suddenly, blonde head now pressed against his chest, while Bellatrix and Nott prolonged the gloominess which hung over the London home. "Please."
"Certainly, my lady," Lucius obliged, a protective arm around Narcissa as he led her to warmth. "The world, for someone as rare as you."
Fin.
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