Illicit Affection
. : Prologue : .
"So it's settled?" a husky voice came from down the darkened staircase.
"Down to the very last detailed, your daughter is to marry my son during the Summer after their last year in Hogwarts. They will raise a family, and hopefully follow our carefully placed path." returned a rather irritated man.
Narcissa, at the young age of seven, snuck down a few more stairs so she could have a better view of her father. He was at the door, shaking hands with a man she'd never seen before. Before she could interpret any more of his features, the man was consumed by the shadows of the night.
In her cotton nightgown, she felt a chill envelope her body. Her reaction came as a shiver as she crossed her arms over her chest. After several minutes of just sitting on the ebony, velvet, carpeted stairs, she decided to go back into her bedroom. The soft plush carpet squeezed between her toes as she made her way down the fall lit up by torch-like lamps. As she always did, Narcissa ran her hands, puny and thin, across the ridges engraved in the rigid mahogany trim.
The flaxen child had thought merely nothing of the conversation between her father and Mr. Malfoy, a long bleach blond, haired man who occasionally played poker her dad. Surely, she concluded, they weren't talking about me. It was true, Mr. Yolanda had never said a name, only that his daughter would marry Malfoy's son. Yes, Narcissa was of course his daughter but to her luck, he had one other child that could be a possible bride.
Narcissa had no point to think about this marriage, she didn't even know for sure which one of them was getting pre-engaged. Clumsily, she plopped onto her murky green canopy bed and leaned against a supple feather pillow. Sleepily, she eased her eyes closed and attempted to clear her head.
When rummaging through thoughts and facts that she learned throughout all the years, she always stopped at one in particular. The fact that Mr. Malfoy only had one son, Lucius. This unnerved her, not by the fact that Lucius was his only son, but because he was indeed the exact age as herself. She, Narcissa Aideen Black, was going to have to marry a boy that she knew nothing, other than his name, about.
