PART 1 (continued)
Narcissa Black was not made a prefect during her fifth year, and so she remained in a train compartment on the ride to Hogwarts. She began studying for her first classes, looking over her new textbooks while Mattie Shafiq chatted about her summer, and so Narcissa did not notice when Lucius Malfoy appeared outside her compartment windows while patrolling the corridors. She did not notice the way he stopped short, cool smile disappearing, and stood staring and uncharacteristically dumb. She did not notice the way he reached out to take hold of the handle of the door to her compartment, and then hesitated. She did not notice the way he suddenly seemed to lose his nerve, drawing back his hand quickly as though he'd been burnt and hurrying onward. And because she did not notice all this, she did not recognize the significance of the way he managed to greet her completely normally in the Hogwarts main courtyard later, with a grin and a hand-clasp and a casual "Hello, Black. How was the wedding?"
"Hello, Malfoy," answered Narcissa with a touch of frostiness. "Very nice. How was your summer?" She didn't mean to be cold, but seeing him for the first time unexpectedly made a bundle of nerves in her stomach ignite and acting chilly was the quickest way to put out the flames. He'd grown taller over the past months, and the way he had moved across the room towards her was somehow elegant, almost kingly. His new robes were of high-quality highly-threaded cloth that shimmered, and the way he wore them somehow made them look like dress robes.
Lucius regarded with her a slight frown. His polite answer to her question and subsequent additional question ("What do you think about the giant attack that took place last week?") made her smile, and so the strange coldness between them dissolved, and they spoke together intensely about what was looking to shape up to be a genuine war until Headmaster Dumbledore asked for silence.
Because Narcissa Black was not made a prefect, she found plenty of time to study for her OWLs and work with the Slytherin Political Club. They were students and could not help Lord Voldemort directly, but they could spread his ideas quietly. There had never in the entire history of Hogwarts been so many half-bloods and Muggle-borns receiving detention and suspension and losing House points.
Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black could be seen walking the same hallways, receiving the same mail and reading the same letter at once. The tabloids they read were never left out where a professor might find them. Occasionally Travers or Selwyn or Lestrange joined them, and when that occurred they turned their heads simultaneously and took turns explaining the most recent news. They sat together at meal times, foreheads nearly touching as they poured over dubious magazines, glancing up occasionally at particular students and murmuring to each other. (That is, unless Georgia Parkinson sat with Lucius Malfoy. Then Narcissa Black sat with her female companions, glancing frequently down the table at the pair of them.)
That year, if you spoke ill of purebloods or Voldemort or Slytherin house and turned to see Lucius Malfoy watching you, you knew you were doomed. But if you turned to see Narcissa Black watching you, you knew you were about to be slaughtered with cold hatred. And then, somehow, inexplicably without fail, you would break one rule or another (in a situation somehow woven by Lucius Malfoy), and one of Narcissa Black's admirers would catch you in the act.
Nobody could speak about the brutal, seemingly legal targeting of non-purebloods, because nobody had any proof, but everybody knew that the club was behind it. Everybody in the club was helping, but Narcissa and Lucius were extremely good at it. Narcissa Black did not know Lucius Malfoy's motivations, but whenever she looked at those with tainted blood all she could see were the ones who had taken her sister. And whenever she looked at Lucius Malfoy, she noticed how he dressed and how he spoke and how he smiled. And he noticed how she moved and how she looked at her inferiors with disdain. Lillian Burke's infatuation did not diminish, but she became frustrated with Lucius's lackluster attention and so she started going out with Selwyn, trying (and failing) to make Lucius jealous. She poured out her frustrations to Narcissa at night and Narcissa did her best to pretend to care.
Georgia Parkinson took Lillian's place at Lucius's side, but she (to Narcissa's annoyance) was more sensible. And Narcissa Black was motivated to take long walks around the Hogwarts grounds and buy the very best of hair-softening potions and she went up and down the castle stairs for extra exercise in the evening and her already-slim figure hardened and became stronger as she continued to grow taller. But if anybody had cared to ask her why she did this, she could not have told them.
In December, a slightly nervous Slughorn threw another Christmas Party. Lucius Malfoy did not ask Narcissa Black to come with him. Travers did. She said no.
"Black—oi, Black!" Narcissa turned as Lucius strode up, pointing his wand over his shoulder with his trunks levitating behind him.
"The carriages are about to leave," she informed him. She was not going home for the Easter Holidays, preferring to stay and study for her rapidly upcoming O.W.L.s.
"I know. I've decided I want you to write your father and ask something for me." The chilly wind whipped both of their cloaks around them. Narcissa arched her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. "I want to invite you to come out to Provence, France with me and the others over the summer."
Narcissa's heart jumped but she shook her head. "I can't go on holiday with just you, Lestrange, Travers, and Selwyn. It wouldn't be appropriate."
"I know," said Lucius hastily. "I've also invited Georgia Parkinson and Lillian Burke, and of course your parents and cousins are welcome as well."
"Really?" Narcissa was surprised.
When she didn't say anything else, Lucius prompted, "It's at the Lac de Castillon, completely surrounded by the Alps, the bluest, clearest water you could ever see. Completely private and accessible only by invitation or reservation of the families of the highest class."
Narcissa stifled a smile. "Well, I don't know if he'll let me, but I'll ask him."
Narcissa wasn't quite sure what she had expected when they arrived by train in the French town of Saint-Julien-du-Verdon, but it wasn't an entourage of smartly dressed gentlemen who bowed and waved their hands and encouraged the Blacks to follow them "just right this way" as they passed through a Muggle-proof roped-off section of the station.
"Just what you'd expect from the Malfoys," huffed Narcissa's father, Cygnus, under his breath as they emerged outside and climbed into elegant black carriages with gold trim. "Any chance they get to show off." Narcissa looked away so he wouldn't see the incredulous look on her face. Jealousy was the real reason for his irritation. If they had been related in any close way to the Malfoys he would be relishing in the special treatment.
"Don't be rude, Cygnus," scolded Druella, Narcissa's mother. "The Malfoys invited us, it's only right that they treat us well."
"Not as though they owned the mountain range," grumbled Cygnus, but he looked slightly more cheerful.
"They practically do." Narcissa moved her lips silently; she'd learned at a very young age that it was useless to contradict her father in any way, unless she wanted to cause trouble (which she definitely did not on this occasion). Only Druella had the privilege of contradiction. She was the only one who could correct Cygnus without him becoming even more obstinate.
The carriage left them at a gorgeous cottage that had the illusion of being rustic. Once inside there was every luxury available that a wizard or witch could hope for. Scarcely two hours after their arrival, a loud and eager knocking sounded on the door. Narcissa hurried to answer it, smoothing back her hair and beaming. But when she swung the door open it was Lillian who pounced on her, squeezing her in a hug.
"Narcissa," she gushed. "Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it beautiful? So good of Lucius to invite us – I spent the morning with him – shame he also invited Parkinson, she's so dull…"
Narcissa swallowed her disappointment and extracted herself from Lillian's arms. "Yes, very nice," she said distractedly as she looked over her friend's shoulder as if expecting to see the aforementioned Lucius standing on the road looking up at them. But he did not appear until the next day, and that was only briefly to extend a personal invitation to come to lunch at the Malfoy cottage. He shook hands with Cygnus, bowed to and kissed the hand of Druella, and nodded at Narcissa before leaving.
"He's a nice boy," said Druella thoughtfully.
"He's going out with Georgia Parkinson," said Narcissa.
They were not the only guests at lunch. Lucius and his father, Abraxas, welcomed all of the invitees to a sunny, outdoor terrace– the Blacks, Travers, Selwyn and his father, Lestrange, Lillian, and Georgia and her mother. Travers immediately went to Cygnus and Druella and introduced himself.
"So good to meet you, Sir," he said grandly. "I read your statement about wasting resources to corral trolls away from stray Muggles – couldn't agree more."
"Harumph," said Cygnus, not-so-subtly eyeing Selwyn, who was whispering something in Lillian's ear as she giggled absurdly and not-so-subtly eyed Lucius as he pulled out a chair for Georgia. Travers quickly buried his look of discouragement and grinned at Narcissa.
"Good trip, Cissy?"
"Very nice," said Narcissa, smiling as she graciously (if reluctantly) took the seat he offered her. The following week consisted of more lunches and several walks about the grounds. Lillian either stuck to Narcissa or to Selwyn like glue. They played cards and chess and Georgia played two-on-two Quidditch with Travers, Lestrange, and Selwyn while Narcissa sat on the sidelines and read books and Lucius looked on and applauded Georgia, dishing out drawling insults to his friends each time she bested them, and kissing her at the end of each match. Not to be outdone, Lillian did the same for Selwyn, often positioning herself within Lucius's line of sight.
The days were surprisingly cool for late June, but on the warmest day since their arrival, all of the teenagers left the immediate grounds and climbed up into the surrounding hills. They found a pleasant, short, grassy cliff next to a stream that spilled over the edge and into a pool ten feet below. They stayed there for some hours as the sun climbed, house-elves plying them with sandwiches, sparkling cider, and fresh grapes and strawberries. As it got warmer, Lillian and Georgia took off their shoes and the boys – even Lucius – shed their jackets. Lucius, true to the Malfoy manner, was still dressed formally. He leaned back on his hands, white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, watching Lestrange and Travers wrestle. Selwyn sat in between Lucius and Narcissa, and Lillian sat behind him with her arms around his neck.
Travers threw Lestrange off and collapsed, eagle-spread, on the ground. "Merlin's beard, it's hot," he panted, face glistening with sweat as he fanned himself. "I think I fancy a swim."
"That sounds lovely," commented Lillian, nuzzling Selwyn's ear. "Where?"
Lestrange got up from where Travers had thrown him and sauntered to the edge of the cliff, looking down. "Pool looks perfect," he said. "It's deep enough for diving, anyway." He began unbuttoning his shirt. Travers sat up and started doing the same, kicking off his shoes.
Lucius cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. "And just how much of your clothing to you intend to take off in front of the ladies?"
"As much as pleases them," said Lestrange arrogantly. He threw off his shirt and leapt from the cliff, whooping, and hit the water with a loud splash.
"Oh, come on, Luci," Lillian giggled. Lucius raised his other eyebrow at the nickname. "We're not perfect delicate flowers in need of your protection, you know. We've seen more than you give us credit for." And with that she sprang to her feet, pulling Selwyn up with her. "Unbutton me, will you?"
"Lillian," scolded Georgia, looking up from where she sat cross-legged, braiding together long strands of grass. "What would your father think?"
"He's not here, he won't know," said Lillian impatiently. When Selwyn hesitated, she pushed him away, wriggled out of her dress herself, and sauntered to the cliff-edge in her slip. Lucius looked away and complimented Georgia on her braided grass. "Come on then," said Lillian to Selwyn with a wicked grin. "Don't leave me alone with Lestrange." And she, too, dove over the cliff edge.
Selwyn sighed and scratched the back of his head, looking simultaneously suspicious and uncomfortable and eager. He pulled his shirt over his head. "Coming, Malfoy?"
"Do you want to?" Lucius asked Georgia.
She shrugged. "I'll go wading, I suppose." At this, Lucius undid the buttons at his throat.
"You're all a bunch of pansies," snorted Travers, standing shirtless with his arms crossed and, with a daring grin in Narcissa's direction, he undid his belt.
Narcissa, still wearing her shoes, got to her feet and smiled at Lucius and Georgia. "I'll just go back to the cottage." Water splashed up from below as the other three laughed and swam and called up to them.
"What's taking you all so long?" came Lillian's voice.
"Oi, Narcissa," protested Travers. "Where are you going?"
"Travers is trying to convince Narcissa to get in," guessed Selwyn wisely from below the cliff-edge.
Lillian again. "Oh, she'll not do it. She's too aloof for this sort of thing."
The comment stung. Her friends that remained on the cliff exchanged uncomfortable looks. Narcissa gathered up her books and said in her most dignified voice, "Believe it or not, Travers, it was not my desire, nor ambition, nor hope to see you in your underpants today." The tension broke. Low whistles came from the hidden crowd in the pool.
Travers laughed. "C'mon, Narcissa, don't be a prude."
"She's not a prude, Travers," said Lucius suddenly, looking at him with a slightly threatening smile. "She's just infinitely classier than yourself."
Travers ignored him, dropping his belt on the grass. "Sure you doing want to stay, Narcissa? Sure there's nothing you want to see?"
"Perhaps I would stay," said Narcissa calmly, "If I thought you would show me anything worth seeing."
Shouts of laughter. Travers good-naturedly joined in with only a small note of dejection as Narcissa left the others to their antics and returned to the cottages, trying to get the vision of Lucius undoing his buttons out of her head.
The warm weather grew hot, and then muggy. Late in the week, the group of friends met at Lillian's cottage, drinking iced lemonade mid-morning under the shade of a tree with wilting branches.
Lucius seemed to have something on his mind. He gazed frowning at his glass of lemonade while Travers and Lestrange cracked jokes and Georgia braided necklaces of lilacs and Narcissa, hot and bored, fanned herself, staring up at the tree with the slouching branches. Selwyn fanned Lillian.
"What's got you so preoccupied, Lucius?" Georgia asked as the dropped the circle of lilacs around his neck and started on a daisy chain. "You haven't spoken for half an hour at least."
"Do you know," said Lucius thoughtfully. "That a battalion of mountain trolls is rumored to have been herded through here not two months ago?"
"Mountain trolls?" asked Selwyn.
"For the Lord Voldemort, I presume," said Narcissa, still staring upwards and watching the leaves sway lazily on slight breezes. "He's been said to be gathering dark creatures for some time now. The tabloids note sightings all the time now."
"Exactly," said Lucius. "I've been thinking of going to the site where they were seen, and as a storm's brewing and we're heading out at the end of the week, today is probably our last chance. Want to go?" He looked hopefully into Gerogia's face.
"You and your politics!" Georgia huffed. "Really, it drives me up the wall sometimes. We're here to relax. Can't you let it go? We aren't even finished with school yet, why do you have to get so deep in it?"
Lucius didn't answer, frowning slightly and mirroring Narcissa's stance of staring up at the tree.
"Go hiking in the mountains?" groaned Lillian. "In this heat? No thanks. I'll stay here and sleep in an ice bath."
"You know Travers and I are in," said Lestrange, sitting up. "But Selwyn might want to join Burke in her ice bath."
Lillian giggled, but Selwyn threw a napkin at Lestrange. "We have ages for ice baths, it's not every day you get trace the path of a revolution. I'll come."
"Narcissa?" prodded Travers. "You coming? It could get scary, but I'll hold your hand if you like."
"You have to ask?" Narcissa traced lazy circles around the rim of her glass of lemonade. "I thought you knew me better than that. Of course I'm coming."
Lucius smiled at the tree, then pushed his face into a somber expression. "Georgia?"
Georgia shook her head and sighed again. "Go on then, you and your political club. I'm staying here. How you get a thrill from going and standing where wizards may have stood while herding mountain trolls is beyond me."
Narcissa changed into a dress more suitable for vigorous climbing, tied her hair back in a tight braid, and met the boys—three of them, Lucius was missing—in front of the Malfoy cottage. Travers and Lestrange simultaneously offered her a broom. "Here you are, Narcissa," said Travers quickly. "Latest Cleansweep, released just last year. Nice and safe and reliable, and I'll be right beside you—"
"Is that a Nimbus?" Narcissa interrupted, addressing Lestrange. Travers' face fell.
"Yeah!" Lestrange said, grinning widely. "Yeah, it's Malfoy's broom actually, he said we could use it."
"Really?" Narcissa took the broom and examined it. "Where is he?"
"Already there, apparently," said Selwyn, looking over his own broomstick, a Comet. Narcissa didn't know which model. "Said he'd meet us. Told us where to go, though." Narcissa swung her leg over Lucius's broom while Selwyn addressed Travers. "Give Lestrange the Cleansweep. Don't look like that, you should've known she'd want the fast one. You're being a little too obvious, by the way."
"Little?" snorted Lestrange. "Try a whole mountain range of 'obvious.' "
"Speak for yourself, Lestrange," growled Travers, blushing furiously. "Just because your brother married her sister doesn't mean you get carte-blanche—"
Ignoring the lot of them, Narcissa kicked off into the air. The boys soon followed, and they tore over the lake and then the hills and up into the mountains. Narcissa bent low over her broom, clenching her knees close together. The wind whipped loose strands of her hair about her face and the ends of her skirt about her calves. The wind and the speed thrilled her, and she grinned to herself, taking joy in every climb and every dive. At last, and yet all too soon, Selwyn (who had taken the lead), dove down towards a figure who stood on an outcropping rock, staring up at them. Narcissa circled the area once, then came in for a landing and gracefully dismounted her broom.
"That was some flying, Black," said Lucius. "Like the broom?"
"It's lovely," said Narcissa, flushing from the unexpected compliment.
"Yeah, Narcissa," said Lestrange, circling overhead. "Why don't you try out for Quidditch?"
"Athletics are below my social status," said Narcissa primly. Travers and Lestrange touched down behind her. "I do enjoy flying though. I've been trying to get Father to buy me a winged horse for ages." Then, to Lucius, "But why didn't you fly with us?"
"Old Luci is scared of flying, that's why," chirruped Travers.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Not at all, I simply prefer Apparition. Much quicker. Brooms are pleasant but a waste of time."
"You Apparated?" Narcissa stared in spite of herself. "You have an Apparition license?"
"If brooms are such a waste of time," complained Lestrange. "Why didn't you take us with you?"
"I'm not experienced enough for side-along Apparition," said Lucius with a shrug, hands in his pockets. "And certainly not for four other people. And no," he said to Narcissa, "I'm not licensed, but that's only because the examiner fell ill and missed our appointment. I turned seventeen a little over a month ago."
Narcissa did her best to act like this was news to her. "Oh. Happy birthday."
Lucius smiled at her. "Thank you."
Selwyn glanced between them. "So where's this mountain troll trail, Malfoy?"
"Yeah, Luci," said Travers. "Where were the trolls? And if we need to make an airborne getaway, just close your eyes. You can ride on my broom so you can close your eyes. I'll even let you hold my hand."
Lucius ignored the teasing. "We won't have anything to make a getaway from. There aren't any trolls left." He jerked his head. "I've had time to scout out the area. The trail should be this way."
"You have to get up high to spot mountain troll trails, because they're so big," said Travers to Lestrange as they made their way down a stony path. "Luci, just how many times did you throw up when trying to find it?"
"Travers," said Narcissa. "If you don't shut up I will hex you off your broom during our getaway and feed you to the trolls myself."
Everybody laughed. Travers beamed. The troop hid their brooms in a crag, ate sandwiches that Lucius had provided, and spoke seriously about the latest war news as they made their way through stony copses and past patches of short grass, bushes, and moss. It was cooler at this high altitude. Narcissa found it immensely refreshing. Even better, freed from the other two girls, they could finally focus on important things. It was mid-afternoon when they stumbled upon scorch marks and fresh stony footprints that were evidence of the troll caravan. They gathered around one particularly clear footprint, and each tried in turn to fit inside of the immense spread. Only Narcissa could manage it, curling up tight with her knees pressed to her chest.
"That one must be from a female," guessed Lestrange. "Or a young one – they can be simply enormous, so I've heard."
They continued on, guessing amongst themselves just how Lord Voldemort's supporters had managed to control unruly mountain trolls and just how they intended to use them. So engrossed were they in their fascination, that it wasn't until a particularly cold wind whooshed down over the rocks did Selwyn look up and comment, "Oh, dear." The heat was gone, and dark clouds rolled overhead.
"Damn," said Travers, observing the sky. "Don't think we can fly back in time, do you?" Distant thunder growled.
"Can't you Apparate us out?" Lestrange asked nervously, looking pleadingly at Lucius.
"I told you, I can't do side-along Apparition," said Lucius, also frowning upwards. "Come on," he ordered, beckoning. "We need to find a cave or overhang to wait it out." The other boys murmured assent. Narcissa said nothing. She was internally cursing herself for not watching the weather; she hadn't told her parents where she was going, or that she was going at all. Hopefully they would just assume she was at Lillian and Georgia's cottage.
The thunder became gradually louder, and flashes of lightning became visible. The afternoon grew dark. The troop walked single-file along a wide path, along one side of which cliffs rose above their heads, and along the other side cliffs plunged into a deep gorge with deep, rushing water that spilled into a black lake. A little beyond this, Lucius stopped suddenly and put his hand on a rock face. "What is it, Malfoy?" Travers looked from Lucius to the sky. Lucius didn't answer, and Narcissa realized he wasn't putting his hand on solid rock, but working his fingers into a small gap between two large rock faces.
"Stand back," he ordered, drawing his wand. With a quick incantation and an almost lazy wave, a slab of rock twice as tall as Narcissa and four times wide as she was tall moved gently to the side several feet, landing with a crunch that shuddered the earth, revealing a dark opening. "Inside then," he said, waving his hand. Lestrange entered first, lighting his wand and peering around cautiously.
"All clear," he said, and the others followed him in.
"Good work, Malfoy," said Travers.
"Thank you," said Lucius, stepping deeper into the cave, lighting it with his own wand. "I'm top of the class in NEWT Charms, it's my best subject after Defense."
While they discussed classes, Narcissa went off by herself to another far corner of the cave. She left sandy footprints in the cave floor, and insects scattered from her circle of light. The chamber was enormous. The ceiling stretched up beyond the range of normal wandlight and could only be seen after Travers sent up a ball of fire that hung cheerfully in mid-air. The chamber made a sharp turn to the left, and large protrusions of rock both from the walls and from the floor and ceiling made it very easy to lose sight of one another. At the back-end of the left curve, the chamber split off into two wide openings as tall as the ceiling (the size of them made it difficult to call them corridors), disappearing into blackness. Narcissa peered down one of these, but she made no move to explore further.
"Black," Lucius's voice echoed from across the chamber. "What NEWTs are you taking?"
"Transfiguration," she answered, starting back towards the others where they had set up a semi-circle camp. Travers had moved his hovering ball of fire to hang above their heads. "Charms, Potions, Ancient Runes, Astronomy and Defense." She sat down in the gap left for her, between Selwyn and Travers and across from Lucius. Outside, rain began to fall, the pattering sending ghostly echoes through the cave.
"If you're taking NEWT Defense, you really should join the dueling club," said Lucius, leaning back against the smooth cave wall with his hands behind his head. "Gives you both sides – you don't just learn defense, but offense. Will likely come in handy if the war continues to grow."
"I don't like fighting," said Narcissa bluntly. After a brief pause, "Do you use hexes and jinxes?"
"Sometimes," said Lestrange, grinning.
"I'll join then," agreed Narcissa.
"Any food left, Malfoy?" asked Selwyn. "I'm starving."
Lucius frowned. "Not much," he admitted, digging into the bag at his side.
"Let me see," ordered Narcissa, and he handed it over. Quickly and with a lot more effort than it appeared, she transfigured the slightly squashed sandwiches into fresh, new ones and increased their number. She then took a few leftovers and, with intense concentration, formed several chocolate frogs.
"Blimey, Narcissa!" blurted Lestrange and Selwyn simultaneously. "Where'd you learn that?"
"Charms is Malfoy's best subject, Transfiguration is mine," said Narcissa, inwardly beaming with pride, but outwardly coolly dividing the supplies among her comrades.
"Thanks," the boys chorused.
"Leave some," she warned. "Or we'll have nothing for later if this storm lasts long."
The biting cold from outside began to penetrate the inside of the cave, and they eventually moved deeper, near one of the large openings.
"Wonder what's in there?" mused Travers, moving his fireball into the entrance.
"Don't," warned Lucius. "Nothing's bothering us out here, that doesn't mean we should go poking around."
"Lighten up, Malfoy, there's no mountain trolls left, right?"
"Right…" said Lucius slowly.
Selwyn got to his feet, also peering down the opening. "Nothing could get in from our entrance," he said reasonably. "It was completely blocked up. There's probably nothing living here for a good ways – nothing dangerous, anyway. I say we check it out."
Lucius shrugged, leaning back against the cave wall again. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed from outside. "Suit yourselves. I'm staying here."
Narcissa, also, had no desire to go further. She wrapped her arms about her legs and rested her head against her knees, watching the light from their companions' wands grow dimmer and disappear.
"Have you—" Lucius began suddenly, then stopped. She raised her head.
"What?"
"Nothing," said Lucius. "Never mind." They sat silently for several minutes, long after the sounds of the others had vanished. Lucius got to his feet and strolled to the split-end of the chamber, his hands in his pockets. "Do you smell that?"
"Smell what?"
Lucius sniffed the air a moment. "Nothing, I suppose." He stood silently with his back to her.
Narcissa put her hands against the floor and shifted her position so it was easier to look at him. "I've enjoyed my stay here. Thank you for inviting me – us, that is."
"You're welcome. I'm glad." He turned around and waved his hand towards the unseen entrance. "Sorry about all this, though."
Narcissa shrugged. "It's not your fault. And if we had turned back in time to miss the storm we wouldn't have reached the trail." She pulled her braid over her shoulder and began to undo it. "Anyway, it's all been worth it. It's very dull at home anymore, now that Bellatrix is gone." Andy's absence filled the silent space in her mouth.
Lucius walked back towards her and sat on the ground. "She doesn't visit much, then?"
"No. She's been – busy."
"Right." He crossed his arm, one leg stretched out in front of him. "But she's well?"
"Yes." Narcissa fingered the hem of her dress as they both fell silent, trying desperately to think of something more to say. "It's unfortunate that Georgia didn't want to come."
Lucius coughed. "Yes, well…she's not that interested in the war."
"She doesn't care about the war?" Narcissa had thought her to be more sensible than this.
It was Lucius's turn to finger his clothing; he tugged on the cuffs of his sleeves. "It's not that she doesn't care—of course she cares, she just doesn't want to become personally involved and she doesn't understand why I am."
Narcissi noted the use of the present tense, as opposed to the future tense. "Well, then, she's very silly. It will greatly impact how we live to years to come. We have to be personally involved."
"Careful, Black," said Lucius quietly. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about."
Narcissa scowled, but added grudgingly, "Well, I find most people to be silly. Georgia is much less so than Lillian; she's more empty-headed than a mountain troll sometimes. Selwyn's all right. But even Travers and Lestrange wouldn't be around if you weren't."
Lucius looked startled, then said with a small smile, "I think their interest has more to do with you than me, Black."
Narcissa shook her head. "Now, maybe. And they are genuinely interested in the War now. But they wouldn't have joined the club at all originally if you hadn't led them into it."
"I—" Lucius looked simultaneously disturbed and flattered. "Well—" he ran one hand back through his hair. Thunder rolled outside.
"They really ought not to have gone," said Narcissa suddenly, frowning. "What if they can't find their way back?"
"I've been thinking the same thing," said Lucius, looking over his shoulder in the direction of the opening. "I think we'd better go find them."
Narcissa jumped up, shaking out her skirt and following Lucius around the protruding rock pillars and hills and through the opening. "Lumos," he muttered, lighting up the space immediately surrounding them.
"One moment," said Narcissa, stopping. She drew her own wand and shook small blue sparks from the end, where they rested by the wall, hovering near the ground; a trail of breadcrumbs. The duo proceeded, Narcissa continuing to leave sparks as they left the cavern behind them. The sandy floor sloped gently downwards, occasionally interrupted by more protrusions of rock rising up from the floor or swelling out of the shadows to either side. Some narrow crannies were evident – large enough for a slim figure like Narcissa to slip through – but no major changes were seen until a good ten minutes later. The darkness before and behind them, past Lucius's wandlight, was complete. The noise of the storm outside faded to nothing.
Lucius stopped so suddenly that Narcissa, looking behind her at her glowing trail of sparks, ran into him. "Oh—dear—sorry—" She spluttered, backpedaling, and blushing far more than was necessary for this minor blunder. Then she clapped a hand over her nose and mouth. "Oh, ugh. What is that?"
Lucius raised his wand, face twisted in disgust. To the left, the corridor split off in a wide, yawning gateway – the first deviance they'd come across. He crept towards it. "It's coming from in here." He held out his wand, running it down the walls and to the floor. Or, where the floor could have been. The cave bottom dropped away into yawning blackness for the entirety of the gateway, like a huge, plunging elevator shaft. "That's what I smelled earlier."
Narcissa lowered her hand from her mouth slightly, staying where she was while Lucius investigated. "But we didn't smell it again until now." The stench was like a mixture of rotten meat, burning flesh, and moldy, sweaty clothing.
"I know," said Lucius. "It doesn't make sense." He backed away from the shaft. "They won't have gone down there. It's a long drop."
"Could they not have climbed down?"
"They could have, but who would willingly go further into that smell?"
Narcissa did not argue further as they hurried away from the hole. She continued to leave sparks. They reached another cavern, this one bitingly cold. Even when Lucius raised his wand and increased the light they couldn't see the sides, though the chilly breeze suggested a large room. Narcissa swore she could have heard running water, distant and roaring. They crept along one wall until they reached two huge passages sloping downwards in opposite directions. They stopped.
"Idiots," Lucius muttered. "They could be anywhere—" He whirled suddenly, staring into the blackness of the cavern. Narcissa didn't have to ask him why. The stench blew past them.
"It's coming from up ahead," Narcissa whispered. "Not from where we came." She waited a moment, while Lucius continued to stare. "Malfoy?"
"Black," said Lucius, very slowly and very quietly. "I think I had better put my light out."
Narcissa, again, did not have to ask why. The stench increased. Prickles went up her spine. She stared into the blackness, half-expecting something to stare back. And if Lucius felt the same way— "Yes, I think you'd better." The light vanished, and her last glimpse of Lucius's face was an intense expression with hard eyes and a clenched jaw.
"Black," said Lucius quietly again. She reached out automatically. The same instant, Lucius's hand brushed her hip and quickly withdrew. He found her hand a moment later and, blindly linked, they felt their way down one of the new passages. Narcissa still left sparks, but their light was insignificant. The sparks illuminated only themselves. Deprived of her sight, Narcissa listened harder than before. She convinced herself that she did indeed hear running water, but it was getting fainter. More immediate was the sound of their feet scuffling on hard rock (the sand was gone), Lucius's breathing, and occasional thumps and vibrations from deep within the rocks. It was also very easy to think about Lucius's hand. She'd never given much thought to his grip before—she'd never had occasion—but she noticed now it was firm, and there was a tense strength behind it, but it wasn't hard or painful. He held her tightly enough for her to know he didn't intend to let go, but she could also pull away if she wanted or needed to. She didn't, so she didn't.
The stench still grew. It made her head spin and her temples throb. And then, abruptly, it vanished.
Lucius stopped. Narcissa bumped up against him. He twisted around and grabbed her shoulder. His breath stirred her hair around her ear a moment later. "Shhh."
Narcissa held her breath, listening until her ears rang. One hand still in Lucius's, she reached out and brushed a damp wall, and then a rough corner. Something rustled. Narcissa held her breath. Lucius was perfectly silent. Lucius gripped her hand tighter. Around the corner, something else was breathing. She sensed Lucius stiffening. His hand squeezed hers once, twice, three times.
Then he jumped out, Narcissa just behind him.
"Lumos!" he hissed.
"Protego!" cried Narcissa.
"Stupefy!" shrieked three voices. One bolt of light shot above their heads, one merely sparked and then faded, and one collided with Narcissa's shield in an explosion of light.
"Bloody hell Malfoy!" yelped Travers. He and Lestrange stood flanking a pale Selwyn. Lucius stared, mouth slightly open. With a jolt, Narcissa saw Selwyn's leg stretched in front of him with the trousers rolled up to the knee, ankle blackened and swollen, foot bare.
Lucius's mouth closed. He stepped forward and knelt down in front of Selwyn. "What happened?" he asked sharply, holding up his wand and increasing its light. Selwyn winced, the sweat on his face glistening.
"Fell," he said. "Floor broke apart half a mile back. There's something down here, Malfoy."
Lucius's jaw went in and out as he frowned at Selwyn's foot. He glanced over his shoulder at the blackness, then briefly made eye contact with Narcissa. She couldn't read his expression. He reached towards Selwyn's foot. "May I—"
"Don't!" Selwyn gasped. "I already tried. It's no good, it's broken. I need a Healer."
Lucius stood. "Help him up," he ordered. Travers and Lestrange obeyed, gripping Selwyn's hands as he threw his arms over their shoulders. "Come on, quick as you can. Black's left a trail." He dimmed the light, but didn't put it out as they staggered back the way they had come. Lucius led the way, the three boys followed, and Narcissa took the rear. Selwyn's breath hissed through his teeth and Travers and Lestrange gasped and grunted. Narcissa tried to listen to the darkness, but it was unyielding in the noise of the boys. She put her hand against the wall, putting out her sparks as they went. They entered the chilly air of the large chamber and Narcissa, trailing her fingers along the wall, felt it shudder. She stopped short for a moment, looking behind her. The wall vibrated again, slightly. She quickened her pace.
Selwyn let out a sharp cry.
"Adrian!" Lucius snapped.
"Sorry," gasped Selwyn in a high-pitched whisper.
The wall shuddered for a third time, then went still. Up ahead, Narcissa's sparks disappeared. She grimaced. A large outcropping of rock barred their way. Lucius did not comment on the disappearance of their trail, taking a detour that took them closer to the center of the room. The foul stench hit them again in a sudden wave.
"We're close to the pit," Lucius's whisper carried back. Narcissa frowned. She could have sworn the smell came from somewhere to the side, not ahead. And then, as they rounded the outcropping, Narcissa's sparks appeared again, next to the wall. Lucius veered back towards it. The outcropping of rock had broken the trail, that was all.
But, Narcissa puzzled, I don't remember it being there. "Malfoy—" she began. She didn't have time to finish before she had passed the outcropping and in her peripheral vision, the rock moved and stepped away from the wall. Narcissa did not scream, but her cry of "Malfoy!" nearly was one.
The rock roared, the boys yelled, and Narcissa dove to the side as shadow plunged down towards her in a plunge of rotting flesh.
"Stupefy!" Lucius shouted. A sound like an explosion; the floor rocked. Narcissa slid, feeling the floor cracking underneath her. She gagged as the damp stench rolled over her and she scrambled to her feet. Lucius stood in a pool of his wandlight, his wand held above his head. Selwyn, on the ground, shot another curse. Narcissa whirled and above her the deformed, bulging, leering face of an enormous gray troll was illuminated. His club raced a foot above the ground towards them as the troll swung it low.
"Run!" Travers shouted. Narcissa fled, adrenaline surging through her arms and legs like cold water and igniting frozen fear in the pit of her stomach. The ground quaked in rhythmic beats; the troll's growl shook the air. She threw a jet of light ahead. They made for the corridor; her blue sparks twinkled along the ground. Gasping, she threw herself into its opening.
It'll fit, she thought, panicked, it'll fit, it'll fit— She spun around, raising her wand, ready to curse. Travers and Lucius half-dragged, half-supported Selwyn as they hurried towards her, their fists full of the fabric of Selwyn's jacket. Spots of pink now showed on his pale face. Lestrange came along behind them looking over his shoulder.
"Where did it go?" Narcissa whispered. The troll did not emerge. Its footsteps no longer shook the ground.
"It'll be taking another way around and coming in from ahead of us," gasped Travers, continuing to pull Selwyn. "That must've been what it was doing earlier when Selwyn broke his ankle, it had us confused, trying to figure out where and what it was—"
"I thought trolls were supposed to be stupid!" Lestrange took Travers' place and the group went as fast as Selwyn could manage—an admirable trotting pace, given the circumstances. Narcissa took the lead, wand upheld, lighting the way.
"So it can't talk," Travers snapped, "Doesn't mean it can't hunt in its own home, it has the advantage here."
"What do we do?" Lestrange re-adjusted his grip on Selwyn's arm. The ground sloped steeply upwards. "Malfoy? How do we kill a troll?"
"Kill?" repeated Narcissa, her nerves making her voice cold and barbed. "We're not killing it, we're getting out as fast as we can."
"Hadn't be better turn the light out?" Travers asked.
Lestrange protested. "No, we couldn't see it then! It's camouflaged enough with all this rock!"
"But it's a beacon telling it where we are—"
"Lestrange is right," interrupted Narcissa without turning around. "It can see in the dark—better than we can, anyway. It can see us whether we have light or not. We may as well not be blind." A minute of harried travel later, Narcissa had a split second to think that the wall had a rather bulgy, fleshy look about it, and then the eyes reflected the light. Lestrange squealed and the club plunged towards Narcissa and the light.
"BLACK!"
She dove and the ground gave way underneath her feet, cracking and crumbling into dust. She scrambled up and bolted, ducking under the troll's club and through his legs. It roared and turned.
"BLACK!"
She put on another burst of speed; didn't have to look over her shoulder to know the troll was giving chase. The boys were shouting curses again. Cold air. The chamber. The smell of rain. Enormous boulders rising out of the ground. Narcissa swerved, raced down the other corridor. The stench overwhelmed the rain. Narcissa doubled back, raced past the troll as it plunged towards her.
She tripped. Flipped over onto her back. "Bombarda!" The jet of light struck the ceiling of the corridors, boulders and dust and stalactites plunged down. An enormous piece of the ceiling struck the troll on the head and split and two. Narcissa was on her feet and running in the first chamber again before she was conscious of having gotten back up.
Orange flame lit up behind her; her shadow stretched out before her. The troll roared. She raced behind one of the boulders, put out her light, and flung herself on the ground. She lay still, pressing her fist to her mouth to silence her gasping. The boys shouted; pebbles and dust rained from the ceiling as the chamber shuddered and rocked. Narcissa pressed her face to the floor, heart pounding.
Selwyn screamed.
Lucius was yelling something. His voice rose an octave. Narcissa scrambled up, ran around the rock. The troll bore down on a crumpled figure.
"ACCIPITER!" screamed Narcissa. "OPPUGNO!" Birds of prey shot towards the troll, flapping and screeching, their talons spread. They tore at its thick hide and its eyes. The troll waved them off, eyes rolling in its head, turning. Travers jumped forward and grabbed the limp Selwyn, dragging him backwards. A fireball danced in the air. The troll smashed the attacking birds and leveled its gaze at Narcissa. They stared at each other.
"Black!" It was Lucius. A small part of her mind wondered at this fact. It was Lucius who kept calling her name.
The spell broke. The troll charged. Narcissa stumbled backwards, tripping over her dress. The club swung. She ran; it clipped her heel and she pin-wheeled through the air, landing and sliding along the ground until she crashed into one of the rock protrusions. She gasped; her palms chaffed and bleeding. She pushed herself up, struggling to breath. The troll lumbered towards her; her ears rang. She felt sure the boys were still shouting, but she couldn't hear them.
Get outside, a voice whispered in her head. It's a mountain troll, it lives in caves. Get outside.
She somehow got to her feet. She somehow turned her back to the oncoming troll. She almost felt like she was flying towards the entrance, hurtling through the air at an exhilarating rate without her feet once touching the ground. Pain became a distant thing; it was run, run, run, run and fly, get to the crack of the door, escape outside.
Lighting flashed. Sheets of rain drenched her to the skin. The heat of the day was gone, replaced by a severe coldfront. Goosebumps broke over her skin as she crept along the rock wall, blinking water out of her eyes. With a crack like thunder, the ground rocked and something struck her back. She fell. Pain jolted up her knees and throbbed through her shoulders. She scrambled back to her feet, turning. The troll rose up, silhouetted against flashes of lightening. Pebbles and debris from the broken stone over the entrance to the cave tumbled over the edge of the cliff. Narcissa took a step back. The rain numbed her fingers. The troll's silhouette expanded as it bore down on her, one of its enormous, stubby hands gripping the side of the cliff as its body took up the entirety of the pathway. Narcissa backed away, stumbling. She looked over her shoulder at the twisting path, then back at the troll. A long, bulky shape spun through the air. Narcissa realized in one split second that it had thrown its club at her.
It's a mountain troll. Rock, stone, and caves. Get away from it.
Narcissa flung herself off the cliff. The darkness of the night closed around her head and she felt like she was floating, hung suspended in midair. Then she hit the water, and a sensation like fire spread across her skin. An invisible hand squeezed her lungs she struggled, kicking out against the spinning currents. Her head broke the surface. She gasped just as a wave crashed over her head and she slipped underneath the waves again. Her fingers had no feeling in them. She didn't know if she was still grasping her wand.
I am not going to die.
Her mind disconnected from the pain and the panic and a cool sense of calculated calm swept over her. Kick out, push against the water, let it carry you upwards. She broke the surface again, coughing. Get the water out of your lungs. Breathe in. Spit out the waves. You aren't in the river, you turned left out of the cave. You're in the lake. Tread the water. Clench your fingers in a tight fist; you might still have your wand, don't let it go. Let this wave carry you up. Breathe. Where is the troll?
Narcissa shook strands of hair out of her eyes and looked upwards. The troll's silhouette blended in with that of the cliff's. No – a flash of fire. There it was, stretching upwards. Somehow, this far away, it looked larger than before, exposed to the night and the elements. Orange light bounced in the air, sputtered, and went out. A shriek made its meandering way down to Narcissa's ears, twisted and warped by the wind and thunder.
The boys are outside.
Through the thunder and the troll's roars and the lashing rain and her struggles to keep her head above the water, Narcissa could not discern what was happening.
They need my help.
Narcissa forced herself to focus on her immediate surroundings. Where was the shore? Was there a shore? She tried to remember. An icy chill began to steal its way into her limbs. She had to get out of this frigid water. If she didn't drown, the lightning might strike the water and electrocute her. But even as she struck out, trying to swim towards where there might be an edge to the lake, a bright flash of golden light made her look up again. Lightning flashed in quick succession. As if in slow stop-motion, she saw the troll's silhouette turn, stumble, plunge downwards and fill her entire vision. Narcissa jerked her perhaps-wandless-hand up and screamed.
"BOMBARDA!"
A jet of light and explosion shoved her into the water. She broke the surface again, only to feel the water swell. She was thrown from the waves, spun through the air, then collided with a mountain of water that rose up in front of her. It grabbed her, dragging her down, down, down. She kicked and struggled but the water tugged her in multiple directions. She had no direction. No way was up. She clenched her jaw in the effort to not suck in liquid death.
Stop struggling! Her cold logic ordered. She went limp. The currents swelled around her, wrapping her dress around her legs. A bolt of light. She turned over. Another streak of light. Lightening. That way was up. She kicked, stretching her hands towards it. She saw stars in her head. Her lungs ached. Bubbles escaped from her lips.
She broke the surface again, coughing and gasping. Strange; why did she taste blood? Was she injured? As liquid drained from her ears, she heard voices again, terrified shouts that were almost wails. She could discern one word.
"Narcissa! Narcissa!"
Her arms ached and throbbed from the cold and exhaustion. She forced herself to swim – she'd lost all sense of "forward" or "backward" at this point. But no, there – a light, high in the sky, a sputtering candle in the rain. It shone out, slowly descending. It was someone's wand. They were showing her the way. The light gave her new strength. She forced her way through the unyielding water, trying to not think about the troll that was somewhere underneath her kicking feet. It was slow progress, but, at last, the storm was lessening. The thunder rolled distantly. The rain hissed quietly.
"NARCISSA!"
Her strength was giving out. Narcissa paused in her fight, treading just enough water to keep her nose above the surface. She raised her wand and sent up a stream of red sparks. A shout. Instantly, three wands were lit. The silhouette of a figure became visible, rushing towards her. His hair reflected the light; it was Lucius. His silhouetted legs were swallowed by water, then his torso, then his arms, and finally it was just his head coming towards her. His eyes somehow picked up faint light from somewhere and they gleamed. And then, finally, his hand reached out and gripped her shoulder.
"Are you all right?" he demanded. She found that she did not have breath enough to answer. "Hold onto me. Can you hold onto me?" In answer, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her front pressed against his back. His legs bumped into hers as he kicked to keep them both above water. He used one hand to pull hers down further. "Hold on," he ordered, then with Narcissa half-hanging off his back, half floating, he struck out towards the lights of the others. Narcissa's mind went suddenly blank, as if the chill of the water was numbing it. A deep heaviness and sleepiness came over her. But Lucius had told her to hold on, so she did. Their progress was slow. Narcissa gasped from shock when Lucius's head slipped below the water, but she realized the next moment he'd done this on purpose. Her weight pushed him down; they could go faster if he skidded along just beneath the water, supporting Narcissa like a dolphin saving a shipwrecked human. He fought against her weight only to come up and take a quick breath before diving down again.
Lucius's head finally came up and stayed up, and then his body rose up out of the water, and Narcissa found she could touch bottom. Her mind began to work again and she let go of his neck. He tried to grab her arm, even though he was gasping for breath, but she sidestepped him, choosing to support her own weight as they splashed onto a pebbly shore. The wet, bedraggled, pale figures of Travers, Lestrange, and Selwyn stood and sat in a row, respectively.
The next moment, the danger past, Narcissa's nerves awoke and she let out an involuntary cry, sinking to the ground. Her entire body was aflame, stinging and burning. Her knees throbbed with sticky heat, and her ankle sent sharp pains up her calf. Her very lungs stung and she began to cough and retch, spitting up acid and water.
"My god, Narcissa," Lucius said. "What is it? What's wrong? Did it hurt you?"
Narcissa shook her head, still coughing and struggling to catch her breath. She looked up at Lucius's face. She could see the whites of his eyes extending clear around his irises. She'd never seen him look so scared.
"Narcissa, you're bleeding!"
Narcissa looked where Lucius stared and saw with mild surprise the twin streams of blood slipping over her ankles and pooling around her socks. Forgetting modesty for the time being, Narcissa dragged up her water-logged skirt to reveal twin jagged cuts across her knees. The skin of her exposed legs was red and angry.
"My god," murmured Lucius, and then a fierce rage entered his face. "Jesus Christ! Lestrange you bloody idiot! Bloody hell you almost killed her!" What little blood remained in Lestrange's face drained away.
"What?" said Narcissa, her voice shaking and barely more than a whisper.
"It was coming at us!" protested Lestrange, his voice high. "It was going to kill us!"
"And so the solution was to throw a troll on her head?" Lucius spat. "The bloody hell were you thinking? You bloody wanker."
"Malfoy," said Narcissa quietly, gripping her bleeding knees, her mind clearing.
"Whose idea was it to come out here in the first place?" Lestrange cried. "If you hadn't wanted to seek out where we knew there had been trolls—"
Lucius looked like Lestrange had slapped him. "Lestrange," said Narcissa, a little louder.
"Don't you dare," Lucius shouted. "If you hadn't gone off looking for trouble none of this would have happened!"
The color began to come back into Lestrange's face. "If you hadn't come up with this mad idea in the first place—if we had turned back when the weather went bad—"
"If you had any sort of competence with a wand, you bloody arse—"
"—if I hadn't had to save all of our arses—"
"Go ahead, Lestrange, keep making bloody excuses you bloody tosser, but you bloody nearly killed Narcissa and if you think I'm going to sit back and let your incompetent, selfish, idiotic, wanking—"
"Malfoy!" Narcissa said sharply, cutting him off. "That's enough!" Lucius shut his mouth, jaw clenched and his clenched fists trembling. "Lestrange was right," she said calmly, still holding her knees. "Mountain trolls can't swim. They drown quickly; it's their one weakness. He was right to throw it in. And his actions did not injure me further. He probably saved all of our lives." Lestrange flushed pink and looked at his feet, his face twisting as he tried to hide his pleased smile. Lucius said nothing. Narcissa began to shiver.
"Here," said Selwyn suddenly, dragging himself closer to her. He touched her knees and murmured an incantation that stopped the bleeding and decreased the stinging on the rest of her body from where she had struck the water. He did something to her ankle next and its throbbing decreased. It wasn't broken; it wasn't even twisted, just very badly bruised. As the pain lessened, a rush of delayed relief and terror and exhaustion crashed over her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You saved my neck back there," responded Selwyn.
"Can you stand?" Lucius spoke at last in a tight voice. He held out a hand to her. Narcissa gripped her skirts tight as she pulled them back over her legs, covering her now-scabbed knees. She took Lucius's hand and he pulled her to her feet. Still shivering, Narcissa held aloft her wand and attempted a warming charm. She couldn't speak clearly for chattering teeth, and her wand shook. "Let me," said Lucius. He held her shoulder in a firm grip with one hand and placed the tip of his wand on the button at her throat. He traced the wand downwards. He did not change expression and he looked almost bored—at least, he appeared unaware of how hyper-conscious of his touch Narcissa felt as his wand traced its way over her chest, across her stomach, then (as he knelt in front of her) down her left leg. She looked down at his bowed head and felt hot all over – but whether it was the warming and drying charm or her own rushing blood that was causing the sensation, she couldn't tell. Lucius stood back up.
"All right then?"
Narcissa's face flamed. Could he tell? "You should be asking Selwyn," she said, and her voice sounded tight and angry.
Still expressionless, Lucius's gaze went to Selwyn. "All right, Adrian?"
"Alive," said Selwyn. "But I think we should fly back now. Please?"
Travers summoned the brooms. He situated himself and Selwyn on the Nimbus. Lucius took Selwyn's Comet. Narcissa took the newer Cleansweep, Lestrange the older. The journey back was much longer and more arduous than the journey there, for Selwyn's sake. Lucius refused to Apparate ahead.
"I'm not going to abandon you all here, what do you take me for?"
When they arrived back at civilization, they landed at the Malfoy cottage. Selwyn was immediately helped by Travers and Lestrange to the office of the Healer on duty. Narcissa and Lucius stood in front of the fireplace. Narcissa would floo back to her cottage, despite it being a short walk away, because it was raining again. Her blood rushed in her ears.
"All right?" Lucius asked her yet again. "We'll be breaking crowns at the Ministry for this, believe me, they are supposed to keep trolls away from—"
"No you won't," Narcissa interrupted, and her voice held no chance for argument. "You know perfectly well it wasn't their fault." Lucius uncharacteristically seemed to have no answer. He stared down at the cold fireplace with his hands in his pockets. "And do you have any idea how angry my parents are going to be as it is? If they find out we battled a troll they'll never let me step outside again." She spoke of her parents, but she was thinking of Lucius. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to cling to him and bury her face in his shoulder. She wanted his arms with that undercurrent of gentle strength to hold her until the last vestiges of shock and fear and injuries drained away and she could be safe and warm forever. And if her parents discovered that he had led them into—
Lucius had taken down the pot of floo powder and offered it to her, cradled in both of his hands. It was black and shimmering with green and gold trim. Narcissa, consciously avoiding his eyes, reached in and took a pinch. Quickly, unexpectedly, one of his hands released the pot and grabbed hers. Or, nearly—but she saw it coming and as the tips of his finger brushed the underside of her wrist Narcissa jerked back and in a voice as freezing and brittle as fearful ice, she cried out, "Don't touch me." Lucius fell back a step and she jumped into the fireplace. As she disappeared, the green flames burned the startled, hurt vulnerability on his face into her retinas.
She didn't see him the next day, as it was storming again and her parents didn't want her to leave the cottage. She didn't see him until they were leaving and the Malfoys were seeing them off. Lucius bowed to her, and his voice was wooden and his expression was wooden and he would not meet her eyes. He turned to go. They were getting into the carriage that would take them back to the station.
"Malfoy!" Narcissa ran after him. He turned back, still without expression, but she had startled him into meeting her eyes. "I hope – when I said – " She lowered her voice to a whisper, causing Lucius to raise his eyebrows. "It wasn't the Ministry's fault, it was his followers, don't you think?"
"Don't blame the Dark Lord," said Lucius with warning in his voice.
"Oh, good heavens, no," said Narcissa, her voice trembling with the effort to show him how earnest she felt. "Only those sent to fetch the trolls. I only meant, I didn't mean it was your fault, because it wasn't. They let one escape. If you or your father don't crack heads for him, I'll ask Bellatrix to."
A flicker of a smile on Lucius's face. He looked over her shoulder. "Your parents look cross, Black."
She didn't care. They could ground her until the next term if they wanted, but she wasn't leaving until Lucius looked at her – really looked at her. "I didn't ever thank you," she said. "For getting us out."
"I didn't do anything," said Lucius, his gaze moving to stare into space. "I chose the bloody cave, it was my fault we—"
"You got us out," said Narcissa stubbornly. "For pity's sake, Malfoy, don't underestimate your own leadership. It was a great experience anyway, troll or no troll. You stayed level-headed the entire time."
Lucius looked at her. "Not the entire time."
Narcissa was dumbstruck for a moment, and she wasn't sure why. "S-see you next term," she blurted at last, and spun around and headed back to her carriage.
"See you," called Lucius.
Narcissa climbed up and they headed out.
Cygnus harrumphed. "You said last night that Selwyn helped your knees?"
"Yes, sir," said Narcissa, shaking herself out of a half-daydream.
Cygnus turned to his wife. "Sensible lad, that one," he said.
Narcissa looked out the carriage window and watched as Lucius walked towards his parents, his back towards her. Rain began to fall again.
The sixth year of Narcissa Black was much like her fifth, but for one thing. She and Lucius were a more ruthless pair than ever.
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" A harried first-year burst into the common room, eyes wet and nose blotchy. "Malfoy, a Hufflepuff half-blood just insulted our entire family. Said we were rotten to the core."
"Oh my," said Lucius Malfoy from where he sat lounging by the fire, legs crossed. His newest badge flickered; he was Head Boy. "How egregious of him. Narcissa?" He placed his hand on her forearm.
Narcissa was sitting in the chair beside him with her ankles crossed, like she often did, making the two of them look like twin royals in matching thrones with their matching uniforms, hair, and (quite frankly) beauty. She lowered her newspaper and looked at her little cousin, flaming anger running underneath her skin. "Did he really, Regulus?" She asked as coolly as she could manage, even as she glowered at the thought of the apes touching her cousin, of them dirtying her name in their mouths. Regulus nodded. "Then I should hope he never breaks the rules."
"He doesn't," said Regulus bitterly. "He's a Hufflepuff."
"He never cheats?" asked Lucius. "Never does anything slightly below-board? Has he a temper?" Regulus shook his head to all of these, and Lucius smiled. "Then I suppose there's nothing we can do." Narcissa hid behind her paper, seeing red.
Two weeks later, Regulus rushed into the common room looking awestruck. "Narcissa! He's gone! The Hufflepuff! He attacked a Ravenclaw, right in front of the teacher, and was shouting and everything."
"Really? Why?" asked Lucius, still smiling and not looking at all surprised.
"He said the Ravenclaw had threatened to kill his cat. And the Ravenclaw didn't even deny it. He was suspended. The Hufflepuff was."
The room slowly emptied until the only remaining students were Narcissa, Lucius, a handful of frantically-studying fifth years, and a quiet, black-haired greasy-looking youth who was drooling on the table that pillowed his head. Narcissa put down her newspaper and stood, walking to the fireplace. A moment later, Lucius stood just behind her shoulder, placing one hand on the mantel near her head. Narcissa spoke quietly, her voice hiding a rare note of incredulity. "However did you do it, Malfoy?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Lucius, speaking airily but softly, near her ear. Some of her hair lift off her shoulder; Lucius rubbed it in between his fingers. "He had it coming, didn't he? Daring to insult your family like he did."
The heat from the fire made her feel flushed. "Thank you."
His fingers slipped through her hair, landed lightly on her back. "Don't thank me. I had nothing to do with it, remember?" Narcissa didn't say anything, wishing he would move back, not daring to move until he did. She could feel him close behind her – very close behind her – almost in his embrace, but not quite. At last, he did step back. "Good night, Black."
Narcissa approached the black-haired first-year a few days later. "Narcissa Black," she introduced herself. "Sixth year. Who are you?"
The boy looked up. He had a sickly complexion and a solemn expression. "Severus Snape," he said.
"First year, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I noticed you reading the Daily Prophet the other day. Are you following the news of the war?" He nodded. "Well. If you are concerned about it and the conservation of blood purity, you are welcome to join me and my friends in the Astronomy tower this evening. We're having a meeting."
Severus blinked up at her, his mouth partially open. Narcissa had been watching him for several days; she and Lucius were always on the lookout for new recruits. And her heart went out to this boy – he was always alone, unless he was with a redheaded Mudblood in Gryffindor.
She wanted to protect him.
"All right," he agreed.
"Then I'll see you soon," she said, holding out her hand. "Friends?"
He shook her hand. "Friends."
