She was jealous and hurt. Her so-called "loving" husband had practically just abandoned her. Actually, that was a lie. It hadn't been abandonment, but it hurt none-the-less. She and him had another screaming arguement, this one cribside. Their son cried, but the sound of the baby's sobs were drowned out by her husband's thunderous voice. Tears streaked her own small face as he used words that should've remained unspoken. Such words included, "Scum," "Unworthy of a surname such as this," "Dreadful," "Dull," and "Just like that middle sister." The last one, though shallow as it was, hit the hardest. She had always tried to differ from her middle sister, to distance herself from the black sheep of the family. Of this she was not proud, but she did it. At the comparison, she sobbed senselessly, to which her husband called her weak, then turned and left. She shouted to him, "What about the baby?!" at which he spun around, walked back, grabbed the infant from his crib, then left wordlessly. Separation was a hard thing, indeed, but it grew harder when she saw him with another woman not a week later. This woman, or rather girl, was probably just graduated from Hogwarts in the past three years. The whole situation caused her blood to boil.
It was November sixth. Her fair blonde hair fell across her eyes as she was forced to listen to her sister droning. Not the one that was so dreadful to be compared to, but her eldest sister. There were three sisters, counting herself. She blinked to keep herself awake; should she fall asleep, she would miss what her sister was saying, and then would later have to listen to it all over again. Still, paying attention was hard, and her stare seemed to go more through her sister than at her.
"Cissy!" her sister hissed, "Are you listening to me?"
"Right, sorry," She mumbled incoherently, "Just tired.. I didn't sleep at all last night, Bellatrix."
"Poor Narcissa.." Bellatrix cooed softly, "Was it his fault?" She put a strong jab into the word, "his", of course referring to the absence of Narcissa's husband.
"Partly," Narcissa said quietly, "That dead silence that overtook the house since he left with Draco makes living practically unbearable.."
Meanwhile, the grieving man once again sat alone with the window open. Today, the air was again cold, but no wind blew in. Even the wind had to give up occasionally. He longed to see the woman he loved, to hold her hand, to say, though it would most likely do nothing, again how sorry he was. Sorry for all the things he had said or done, and sorry for not trying harder to make her forgive him. A knock at the door interupted his mournful remorse. He tried to wipe away the tears on his cheek, tears filled with love and regret, before opening the door.
On the other side of the doorway stood a man with light blonde hair that went nearly to his waist. This hair that was supposedly tied back slipped out around the sides and covered the majority of his blue-gray eyes. In his arms was a baby with the same hair color, eye color, and everything as he.
"Lucius?" said the man filled with sorrow, "What are you doing here? Why did you bring your son?"
"Severus, I needed to speak with you," said the blonde, Lucius.
"Yes, come in then," said Severus, the grieving man, as Lucius did so. The two had a heart-to-heart about what had happened between Lucius and his wife. Lucius told him how they had been fighting for a while, so it hadn't been unexpected, at least to him. He had taken their child, Draco, with him because he didn't think Narcissa could manage on her own. Severus listened but didn't sit still through one word. The whole situation made him feel awkward. After all, he and Lucius had never been close friends, only had they been on the same side of the war that ended on the night Severus's love had been killed. They had been on the wrong side. Severus's stomache turned. After all had been said, Lucius stood up, faced Severus, then shook his hand before making his way to the door. Once there, he stopped, turned around and spoke.
"Severus, thank you," Lucius said. Severus blinked in confusion; Lucius never said thank you to him before. He'd probably never said it in his life. "For listening and all. It helped. I do not have, er, so many close friends, so.. Thank you." Lucius, son in his arm, left without another word.
"You don't have any close friends, Lucius," Severus replied to an empty doorway, "Neither do I. We are unfortunate in that way."
The next day, Narcissa woke up in her large, empty house in the bitter darkness. She reached to her wand and light appeared from it. Carefully, she lit the candles that were all around her home. She ran her hand through her hair as she yawned but hit a large knot that sleeping had caused. Looking around for a brush or something of the sort, her hand landed on a photo. In the picture, a younger, happier girl with the same hair color as she smiled and laughed in a wedding gown fit for a queen. A handsome man with shoulder length blonde hair stood in a tuxedo beside her, one arm around her shoulder. She sighed. This was a picture from her own wedding. In the background of the photo stood another man in a suit, though his not as extravogant as the grooms. His black, greasy hair was shaggy and uncut, and it slide over his eyes with every movement he took. He seemed to just be watching the wedding, unsure why he had attended all together. This man was Severus, and, in the photo, he was visualizing the groom as himself and the bride as his love. Or so he thought. The look in his eyes said he wasn't visualizing the young bride Narcissa as anyone else. And why should he? She looked beautiful.
Narcissa placed the photo back down. It was then that the doorbell rang. It was dark sounding, like the sound one would hear in a muggle horror movie as the villian would sneak up on an innocent victim. Though she was in her bed clothes, Narcissa went to the door and opened it immediately. Her reasoning was that if anyone would come this early, it must be important, and should be answered at once. It was only 8:00 on a Saturday, after all. Standing on the other side was Severus.
"May I enter?" he asked simply, not mentioning the fact that her hair was a disaster, that here bed clothes were on, or that she looked as though she'd cried herself to sleep (before taking off her make-up, even.)
"Severus?" Narcissa said, "Er, sure.. Pardon my appearance."
"Tear lines?" Severus inquired.
"Well, yes," she confessed, "As I do not doubt you've heard, Lucius has left, plus they took Bella to Azkaban late last night."
"How dreadful," he agreed. "Lucius has indeed told me of this argument. As for Bellatrix, I am sorry." The last part was a lie, but he hid it well.
"Yes, it's horrible. Do sit down," she added.
"Narcissa," Severus began once seated, "If there is anyway I could possibly help.."
"Well," Narcissa replied after a moment of thought, "I become dreadfully lonely in this big house. Perhaps, if you visit me time-to-time?"
"How often do you want me here?" he asked, "for that is how often I shall come."
Narcissa smiled. "How about thrice a week? Saturdays is fine, but perhaps a little bit later into the day. Tuesdays would be nice at about 6:00 in the evening. And, maybe, Thursdays at the same time as Tuesdays?"
"So be it," Severus replied grandly. He looked into her eyes briefly before breaking her returning gaze. She really was pretty, he knew. She had all the right features; sparkling eyes, plump, but not too plump, lips, delicate skin, long blonde hair. Everything a woman wanted to have. And yet, for some reason, she just wasn't beautiful. Pretty, yes, very pretty, but not beautiful. A flaw which had been pointed out to her since childhood.
"I should, er, go and dress.." Narcissa laughed awkwardly.
"I will wait down here," he said, almost smiling, "Go on."
Narcissa headed up the long, winding stairs back to her bed chamber to dress. Today she slipped into a long, black dress with sleeves entirely made of a thinner lace. It would seem fancy, but actually was not nearly as formal was what she had worn the day before. Black heels seemed appropriate. After dressing, she sat in front of her vanity stand to brush out the snarl of knots that made up her hair. Once her hair was again smooth, she dug out some earrings before heading back down.
Instead of commenting on the dress, earrings, or shoes, Severus said simply, "So, what time on Saturdays?"
He came that Tuesday, and he came again on Thursday. Saturday, he returned. This was so for three weeks, at which time they decided three days wasn't enough. So he began coming on Fridays. After a few more weeks, four was still too few visits per week. And so he came on Sundays. Then Wednesdays. Once two months had passed, he was there all evening on the week days, and all day on the weekends. Narcissa craved his presence when he was absent, though few hours it was. Severus felt almost complete again with her around. He'd even stopped mourning, or at least stopped expressing it so frequently. Narcissa began to form a bad habit. This habit was constantly thinking of him and only him, so much she was practically obsessed. But there was a fine line between obsession and love. Severus, on the other hand, knew quite well what he was feeling was wrong. After all, she was married. They were fighting and separated, but they were still married, which he knew he ought to honor. But yet, all he could see when he closed his eyes was her. Her, and Lily. That was something that could never change.
On the first Sunday of the fourth month, the same gothic doorbell rang out through the huge, empty house. Narcissa smiled as she danced to the door, which she opened to find an elegantly dressed Severus. She gasped in excitement at his marvelous attire.
"Such formal clothes," Narcissa gushed, "Are we going somewhere today?"
"Yes," Severus replied, almost smiling as he did so, "I suggest dressing into a ballgown. I brought numerous ties, should you wish to match.."
"Oh, Severus!" She exclaimed happily, "Come in, please, and sit as I go change. It may take a while; I want my hair to look nice, as well."
She dashed up the stairs and swept through her closet. Each gown was wonderful, and yet each one she found had something that made it just under perfect. This one was too long, that one wasn't long enough. Finally, she found the perfect dress. It was long and sapphire. The sleeves were just covering her shoulders, and it had a black belt-like material across the stomache. The high heels she had bought with them had sparkling diamonds across the top and the straps. She sat at her vanity stand to brush out, then curl, her hair, which she proceeded to tuck up into a curly bun. She held it in with a large blue bun wrap*. She reached into her jewelry box and emmerged with a heavy handful of turquoise, some of which were long, dangling earrings, and some of which was bangels. The rest of the turquoise was a large, heavy necklace. Carefully, she climbed down the stairs back to the first floor.
"Formal enough?" Narcissa asked shyly.
"Beautiful," said Severus, "Everyone will be asking to dance with you."
"We're going dancing?!" She squeeked happily.
"Yes, we are," he replied, "Though, I must warn you, I have two left feet."
"Well, I've two right, so things should even out," said Narcissa with a grin. She tucked her arm into his affectionately, and the two walked off together. This was the evening that decided it all.