"What are you- wait- no- Lucius!" She stumbled clumsily over her words as she watched him in a hazy disbelief.
He didn't say anything, opted for the silence as he often did, and she stepped closer to where he was standing by the railing, currently swinging one leg over the bar.
"That's dangerous….are you trying to get yourself killed?" She asked worriedly as she stepped closer once more, close enough to see individual strands of pale blonde hair and smell the familiar scent of this particular slytherin.
"It's fine," He said shortly, as he swung his other leg over, uncaringly, before situating himself upon the bar, feet dangling hundreds of feet above the ground.
Narcissa felt the worry and fear spike up her throat painfully and she swallowed shakily before taking that last step so that she could stand directly next to him if….something were to happen. She shuddered at the thought.
"It is not fine, you're- you're setting a death trap for yourself!" She said exasperatedly as she cautiously glanced down at the grounds, so far below them, before she swallowed with difficulty.
"Oh, stop worrying so much, Cissa." He drawled lazily as he tilted his head back slightly, his expression stoic, and closed his eyes. She wished sincerely that he would just turn around and come back over the railing so she actually could stop worrying.
It may have been irrational, but-but-
"You might fall," She said and he just shook his head slightly. "Lucius!" He opened his cold grey eyes and she felt exposed for a second under his gaze but she ignored it.
"Yes, Narcissa?"
"You need to- I don't think- please, just come back over here, please…." She pleaded with him her voice quiet and somewhat vulnerable.
Her sat up completely before turning to look at her. He was quiet for a moment, before his deep voice rang out to her ears.
"I won't fall."
"You might."
"But I won't."
"You don't know that…." She closed her eyes before turning and wounding her slender arms around his waist. She laid her head against his back softly, the sound of his heartbeat audible to her, and she took a deep breath.
"Maybe you're right…." She murmured into his shirt softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I am over reacting…it's just…..I don't know."
They were silent after that, the only sounds occupying the space were the light autumn winds and the sound of their synchronized breathing.
"Lucius?"
"Hm?"
"What's behind that door?" She pointed a perfectly manicured pale finger towards the door in question, one she had never opened despite the countless times she'd come to this manor. She had never seen it open, though she had passed it quite a bit, but never really got around to asking because she was usually distracted by her betrothed.
Lucius turned his gray eyes lazily towards the oak door, its golden knob glistening in the afternoon sunlight spilling in from the window.
He looked down at her then, his gaze meeting hers as she looked up at him, a glint of curiosity swirling in her blue eyes. He felt the corners of his lips curl up slightly, the notion of Narcissa's failure to hide the childish wonder behind the mask of a proper pureblooded girl amused him greatly.
"If you find it so endearing," He drawled, "I'll just have to show you."
She couldn't help the momentary surprise she felt at his response as she had been expecting him to brush it off, maybe telling her how silly she sounded. But he only smiled slightly, a smile one might compare to an angel's, and moved to open the door.
He moved aside as she stepped into the room, once more forgetting how improper it was for a young lady her age to react the way she was. But she couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her mouth, which now hung slightly ajar in a rather un-ladylike way. She felt Lucius come up beside her, but she kept her blue eyes on the room that could only be described as beautiful.
It wasn't at all what she had expected; the crystal blue walls, the glass door leading to a small balcony, the grand piano that sat in the center. The sunlight bathed the room in a golden glow, giving it an even more dreamlike quality.
"I use to call it the music room." The smooth voice she so adored pulled her mind back, and she looked up at him. His eyes, though, were trained on the white piano which looked as though it hadn't been touched for years, and she assumed it probably hadn't. "Although, I'm not quite sure what to call it now. I haven't been in here in…a while."
"It's lovely," She said honestly as she watched him walk over toward the piano, casting him too in a glow that seemed to make him look even more ethereal. She marveled for a moment, breathless, at the sight of him and wondering for a second if something so….beautiful could be real.
She took a few steps closer, watching as he ran his hand lightly over the keys in such a way that she felt the instrument might have once meant something to him, and leaving a trail in the layer of dust.
"Do you play?" She asked him and he turned his gaze to her, taking in her slightly flushed cheeks and large blue eyes. Her white dress seemed almost yellow in the light as it hit the soft fabric in such a way.
"I did." He murmured softly. "Once."
His face took on an almost nostalgic expression and she wallowed in the feeling as well, remembering her own experiences with the piano. She recalled how her mother had insisted she and her sisters learned to play an instrument; she had chosen the piano for grace and poise.
She hadn't played in so long though and was sure the keys were unfamiliar to her fingers now.
But she watched as Lucius took a seat on the bench, his back now to her. His pale blonde hair, tied at the nape of his neck with a single ribbon and glistening in the sunlight, contrasted greatly with his dark ensemble.
Suddenly, the thick silence was sliced in half by a series of notes delivered at the press of his fingers. The notes continued, the gentle tune filling the air and her mind. She found herself moving closer, towards the divine sound and her beloved who created it. She took a seat daintily beside him on the bench, as it was more than wide enough for their thin figures, and watched, entranced as his hands moved with unimaginable grace across the ebony and ivory keys. His long pale fingers danced from key to key elegantly, and she resisted the urge to reach out and grasp one of those hands.
She wasn't sure how long they sat there, him concentrated on the melody he created yet still entirely aware of the girl beside him and her soaking up the sweet sounds while focused on him in every possible way. The sight of the two of them, so peaceful and tranquil in this long forgotten room, was a picture one might ache to paint. To capture the beauty present in not only he and her, but in the notes strung together in a spiral of high and low, if only one could paint such an elusive thing.
The composition that had greeted his memory as an old friend came to a close, the last note lingering in each of their heads until the room was once more consumed by silence.
Her eyes traveled then up to his handsome face, settling on his lips of the lightest pink, as they opened as if to say something before closing once more.
"That was beautiful." She said, her voice soft.
He looked up to her smiling face, only inches away, as she reached out and grasped his hand in her own.
"You're beautiful," He whispered without thinking and watched as a light blush colored her cheeks. They were silent for a minute more as he watched her trace the lines on his palm absently, her touch as light as a feather. She then brought her hand up to his face, moving her fingers delicately over his cheekbone and along his jaw, her eyes never leaving his.
They were both terribly aware though of the slip of each of their masks, each of their hard walls, leaving only this tender moment she wished would last forever.
A hazy array of strewn thoughts, her mind was in that moment. She could feel wisps of her golden hair escaping the carefully applied clips as the soft April breeze whistled, but she didn't move to fix it
She walked rapidly, in uneven steps, each one not seeming to take her far enough. But when the building came into sight she stopped abruptly.
There he was.
Platinum blonde hair, flawless porcelain skin, and steely grey eyes. He was ethereal, iridescent even and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she realized that the memory she had kept of him had not been accurate enough.
His tall lean figure stood nonchalantly against the worn brick wall; hair pulled back loosely, arms crossed over his chest lazily, and cold eyes scanning the small crowd.
Her stomach fluttered but she tried hard not to let it show on her face and instead worked to keep her expression cool and closed, as it usually was. She started walking again, slowly this time, and the closer she came the more her composure fell away. Her breath was coming out in uneven bursts and her heart was thumping so wildly she could hear it ringing in her ears.
And then he turned his head ever so slightly and his hard gaze caught hers in a clash of blue and silver. She saw something in his eyes shift immediately once he saw her, the cold aristocratic mask faltering ever so slightly, as it so rarely did.
Suddenly she couldn't reach him quick enough, she sped her pace then, all thoughts of maintaining her composure forgotten, and her steps became clumsy and sloppy as she got closer to him.
"Cissa…." She heard him say softly before she finally fell into his arms, wrapping her own around his thin waist and pressing her face to his neck. She breathed in the familiar scent of cologne and parchment and soap before pressing a quick kiss to the pale skin of his neck. He pulled back ever so slightly before meeting her halfway as she leaned to crush her lips to his.
She had missed the feel of his cool lips against hers, the feel of his arms around her, the feel of his presence so delightfully close to her.
When he pulled back, breathless, he leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
"Merlin, I've missed you." He murmured and she smiled as she tightened her arms around him.
"Me too." She breathed, reveling in the feeling of his warm breath upon her face as he chuckled. "It's been nearly a year…."
"I know. But you'll be done with school soon." He said and she sighed but nodded. Not soon enough, she wouldn't.
"And then I can be with you. No more Hogwarts. Just you and me." She whispered as she smiled at the thought.
"Of course." He pulled back then, and she could see his façade slipping back into place. "We should go…"
She remembered then that they were standing in the middle of Hogsmeade, attracting too much attention for her liking. But she wouldn't let him slip away that easily. Not after she just got him back.
"Mhmm," She murmured as they began to walk, the wind suddenly cold and she missed his contact.
She hurried to fall into step beside him, smiling a bit too much, and reached over to grasp his hand in hers. She felt his stiffen slightly before relaxing and curling his long elegant fingers around hers comfortably.
There was silence. Eerie, consuming silence. She feels it, that strange absence of sound, and it unnerves her more than she would care to admit. It surrounds her, wrapping around her sole figure so tightly it's suffocating. She feels it tightening around her, engulfing her fully.
She lets out the breath she's been holding in one audible gasp and revels in how it breaks through the silence like a knife.
She lays there then, for a few moments, listening to the sound of her soft breathing and allowing the sound to caress her ears in replacement of the previous quietness. But then she realizes that she cannot hear the gentle sound of his soft breaths beside her and she sighs heavily.
She is suddenly uncomfortable and cannot seem to find a suitable spot on the bed. She rolls over then, restless and tired but unable to sleep and the sight that meets her searching eyes helps none.
She is face to face with the nothingness that occupies the place where her husband should be, sleeping soundly next to her. Something in her chest flickers, painfully, and she winces. The pain pulses beneath her ribcage, and increases as she reaches her hand out slowly to touch his pillow ever so softly. It is cold and feels unused, which it is, but she wishes it wasn't. She wishes his head was laid upon it instead, his gray eyes lidded heavily and his mouth slightly parted as he slept silently, never snoring or uttering a sound.
But he wasn't. No, he wasn't here with her. He was locked up miles away, suffering.
She feels the water in her eyes increase but she juts her chin out defiantly and doesn't succumb to the tears. She is a Malfoy after all.
Yet even her, Narcissa, couldn't pretend forever. She couldn't keep feigning hope that her family would pull through this in one piece, what with Lucius in Azkaban and Draco at school performing that terribly dangerous task. And then there was her. Alone in this large Manor she use to call home. But home was where her family was.
And they most certainly weren't here.
~fin~
Just a few vignettes I found that I'd written some time ago but never posted.