In six months, Narcissa Black would be a married woman. Bearing a new last name – Malfoy – she would leave the home of her childhood and relocate to the imposing Malfoy Manor to live out the rest of her days with her husband. She would manage the household, direct the house elves, play hostess to friends and people of importance, be her husband's companion, and eventually bear his children. The prospect excited her, but she couldn't be honest without admitting a slight touch of nerves, too. Still, she was enthusiastic as she worked with her mother to plan her wedding. It would, of course, be a spectacularly grand affair, with jewels and silk tablecloths and crystal goblets and goblin-made silver and gauze draperies, and the finest musicians, the oldest wines and meads, and the most lavish of banquets to entertain the hundreds of immensely important guests who would attend.
"Will silver satin do for the bridesmaids, Mother?"
"Why, yes, darling, that sounds lovely. An excellent choice, I think. How many have you so far?"
"Ten, including the matron of honor. Look, mother, there's an owl!"
It was from Lucius, and contained an alphabetical list of people his family thought should receive and invitation to the wedding. Narcissa had requested it only a few days before, and she had to admire the promptness with which her request had been honored. She sat down with her mother to combine his list with one of her own, resulting in a final guest list. She was pleased to discover that many of their invitees overlapped, though they each, naturally, had included some guests that were essential only to their own families. Narcissa began dictating the names to a quill, being careful not to allow any repeats. It took her quite some time, and she was glad when she paused for a moment and found she was nearing the end of the task. Newly determined to finish, she read off three more names – and startled so badly that she nearly knocked her chair over.
It had to be a joke; Lucius couldn't possibly be serious about inviting him!
Could he?
Moments later, she had Flooed into his drawing room with the list. "Please tell me this was supposed to be funny," she begged, pointing to the name near the bottom.
Lucius' face, which had brightened with an actual smile at her appearance, fell. "I'm afraid not," he said quietly.
"What? Why? You can't possibly want him there! I mean, I know you're on his side – we both are – but still! Having him there in person?"
"I'm afraid it's strictly necessary."
"I don't see how it is! I mean, think of it, Lucius! Can you imagine? Him storming around, terrifying and threatening the other guests, bragging about all the nasty things he's had done to Muggles and to people who oppose him, trying to recruit those who aren't his already and scolding those who are?" The thought was making her panicky, and she had to force herself to calm down. "Not that I'm opposed to that in general," she clarified hastily, seeing an odd, cold look come into Lucius' eye. "But at a wedding…"
Lucius sighed. "I quite understand how you feel about it, Cissa. But consider: what might happen if we are married and he is not invited?"
That stopped Narcissa in her tracks. She hadn't looked at it from that angle before.
"It would be deemed a grievous insult, of course," Lucius went on, answering his own question. "And I'm sure you've heard rumors about his reaction to insults."
She had.
"You're right, of course, dearest," she admitted, trying to suppress a shudder. "I hadn't thought of that." She suddenly felt tears creeping behind her eyelids. Visions of her lovely wedding being ruined by one invited but unwanted guest danced in her head.
"Now, Narcissa," said Lucius, catching her expression. He really couldn't take a storm of tears over this, because it was one matter in which he could not give in to her. "You can see as clearly as I can how necessary it is. Besides, he may receive the invitation but elect not to attend. I don't think he enjoys things like weddings very much."
"No, only ruining them," she said bitterly, staring at the expensive carpet.
"Yes, but we're both pureblooded," he reminded her. "He wants to encourage marriages like ours. With Mudbloods or blood traitors it would be different – but those weddings he ruins whether invited or not." Lucius smiled, trying to make a joke of it.
Narcissa didn't think it was very funny.
"Come, love, write him an invitation. It'll be all right, you'll see." He drew her close and wrapped her in a comforting embrace.
She melted a little. He really did love her, and she him, and that was something. Still, she couldn't help but wish for a moment that her husband-to-be could have chosen a hobby other than being an actively participating Death Eater.
Resigned to but not pleased with the situation, she Floo'ed back home and began writing the invitations. She allowed herself a grimace of disgust when she wrote the name Lord Voldemort across the envelope, but managed to work herself into a sort of false contentment by repeating Lucius' arguments to herself. He was right; it had to be done; it was all for the best. She refused to let herself be annoyed by it any more.
That is, until she realized she had no earthly idea how to address the damned thing.
