a/n: woohoo! another chapter. this chapter is the beginning of several subplots - see if you can spot them. ;] (though i won't tell you if you're right or wrong.) i'm very excited to continue on with this fic. ^^ all i ask is that you PLEASE PLEASE review. it's discouraging to get an e-mail that says so-and-so has put SIO on story alert, yet i have no review. it doesn't even have to be that much - even just ONE WORD. i'm actually a bit disappointed because i didn't get many reviews for the last chapter... so please, just drop a small line?

disclaimer: not mine.


CHAPITRE TROIS: YOU'LL BE IN MY HEART

It had been three days since the… party. Narcissa had tried to get back to her regular life, but she just couldn't do it. For three days, the only time she changed out of her pajamas was when she took a bath. After that, she crawled back into bed and slept. Several people had tried to get in touch with her – her mother, Bellatrix, Regulus, Alecto Carrow, and Castalia Yaxley to name a few. But Narcissa had written them all back, explaining how she must have caught something from one of the guests at the party because she was feeling just dreadful. Much to her luck, everyone seemed to understand and stopped sending owls.

Lucius had seemed to vanish once more, and it upset Narcissa more than she liked to admit to herself. They had gone a year without speaking; had she expected, from his short visit, that they'd be chatting again on a daily basis and seeing more of each other? No, but she had been hoping. There was something in the air that day when Lucius visited her; there was still something between them. And he had even admitted it; he'd told her that he still loved her. That meant something; it had to. It was the only hope that she still had in the world, especially now. What if the rest of the men, the ones that were an option for her to marry, were like Rookwood? She didn't want that kind of life, that kind of marriage.

A loud knocking on the door brought Narcissa out of her thoughts. She stared at the ceiling for another moment, letting her visitor pound on the door some more, before sighing heavily and throwing back the covers. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her small frame, hoping that the person would be gone by the time she reached the door. But their knocking continued, and Narcissa was growing irritated. She flung open the door, a scowl set into her features, only to see her father standing before her.

"Father," Narcissa said, surprised. She stepped back and invited her father into the small house. She closed the door behind him and held her arms across her chest, as if she were exposed. "What… what brings you here?"

"Your mother said you were ill," Cygnus replied in his deep voice. He walked into the sitting room and Narcissa followed him.

"Oh, did she? I… I'm alright now. I think I'm over the worst of it." She sat down next to her father on the couch and gave him a reassuring smile. "You didn't have to come here to check on me."

Cygnus returned his daughter's smile. "I wanted to," he told her genuinely. He then averted his attention to their surroundings, taking in everything. "It's been some time since I was last here."

Narcissa nodded, never taking her eyes off of her father. She had a feeling that there was something on his mind. "It hasn't changed much," she said slowly. She studied his features, noticing that he still looked tired. She had thought before that it was because of the party. It was becoming clear to Narcissa that that wasn't the reason at all. She'd never seen him look so… old. "Father… is there something on your mind?"

It took a few seconds, but Cygnus eventually turned his head to the side to meet his daughter's gaze. Slowly, he nodded, and then reached for his youngest's hand. He grasped it just loosely enough so as not to crush her fingers, and just tightly enough so as to convey his support. "Augustus Rookwood came to me the other day," he started off in a very businesslike tone. Narcissa's heart skipped a beat, and then started beating rapidly. Her stomach flip-flopped, which caused her to feel nauseous. On the outside, she was as calm as ever. "He asked my permission to marry you."

And, suddenly, Narcissa's world came tumbling down. She should have seen it coming. She shouldn't have been so blind! Of course Rookwood would pull something like this. He had said that he'd wanted one of the Black girls. At the time, Narcissa had been daft enough to think that he'd only meant he wanted sex from one of them. Which he'd gotten, and she had assumed that he'd just disappear. But no… he had meant that, in addition to sex, he wanted to be married into the Black family. He could now have his wish come true. And it was all her fault.

"But, we're… and he… it's like-" Narcissa stammered, cutting herself off. Her tongue was tied; she couldn't form any coherent sentences. She stared at her father, fearing the worst as she managed to ask, "What did you say?" She closed her eyes, afraid to see the expression on his face.

There was a moment of silence and then Cygnus said very softly, "I told him I would think on it. But it's been my intention to talk to you about it straight from the beginning."

Narcissa's blue eyes fluttered open, and she gave her father a confused yet curious look. This wasn't how most marriage permission proposals went. Usually, whatever the father's decision was, was inarguable. She stared at Cygnus before she started to slowly shake her head. "No," Narcissa said, choking back a sob as everything came rushing at her. "Father, please. Please don't give him permission." She was unable to hold back her tears any longer. Three days of fear and anger came rolling out in round, salty tears. "I loathe Rookwood – no! No, I hate him-"

"Narcissa," Cygnus said gently, giving her hand a squeeze. Her tear-filled blue eyes fell on his concerned brown ones, and the blonde couldn't stop herself. She flung her arms around her father's neck and clung desperately to him. Cygnus folded his arms around her frame, holding her closely. He ran a hand over Narcissa's long, blonde hair and kissed her temple. "Narcissa, there's no need to cry…"

Nodding, Narcissa pulled away from her father, letting go of his neck. She wiped at her eyes, and forced out a laugh. "I know," she said quickly, feeling daft. "I'm sorry." She avoided her father's gaze, and eventually settled her eyes on her hands in her lap.

"Don't be sorry, love," Cygnus spoke softly, reaching out to grab one of his daughter's hands. Narcissa looked up at him pitifully, defeated. "Is there something the matter?" Without meaning to, the blonde gripped her father's hand tightly, and slowly felt her head moving in an up and down motion – nodding. Cygnus's features softened, something Narcissa hadn't witnessed in years.

"Rookwood," she choked out. "It's about Rookwood. He… he r- I tried to stop him! He was too strong." And she was crying again.

Tentatively, Cygnus reached up and carefully held his daughter's face between his hands. "He did what, Narcissa?" he demanded gently, but urgently. The blonde's blue eyes bore into her father's dark ones, noticing that his eyebrows were furrowed. He was concerned.

Narcissa swallowed, trying to form the words in her mouth. But they were too harsh. It was such an ugly word. "He a-a-attacked me," she stammered, concentrating hard on the words that she was saying. "He f-forced me… to… heforcedhimselfonme," Narcissa finally said, the words running together.

The room went deadly quiet, and it was all Narcissa could do to keep herself from falling apart again. She was aware of Cygnus leaning towards her, and she closed her eyes. Narcissa buried her face into her father's chest, feeling secure for the first time in days. "He can't hurt you now," Cygnus whispered in his youngest's ear. It was a promise

oooOOOooo

Telling her father about the rape had made Narcissa feel better. She'd begged him to please keep it quiet and not tell a soul. If Cygnus had broken his promise, no one had come forward to tell the blonde. Thus, as far as she was concerned, he'd kept his word. Her father checked on her several times a day, through owls mostly. He also informed her that he'd denied Rookwood's suggested marriage proposal, and that the man hadn't been pleased. Narcissa had waited anxiously after receiving that owl, suspecting that the vile excuse for a man would show up on her doorstep. He hadn't, though it was still difficult for Narcissa to sleep at night. But she was slowly beginning to pick up the pieces of her life; she was better than this. She was better than him. She wouldn't let Rookwood control her life; she wouldn't let what had happened control her life.

Scurrying down the short hallway, Narcissa attempted to put on her shoes. Her plan was unsuccessful, though, and she skidded to a stop in front of the door where a knock had resounded just moments before. She smoothed out her skirt, swallowed hard and tentatively reached for the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, Narcissa turned the knob and opened the door. The face she saw was not the one she'd been expecting.

"Oh, it's you," she sighed, relieved. She opened the door wider and turned away from it, walking further into the small house.

"Don't sound so happy," Lucius said dryly, as he followed her into the house, closing the door.

Narcissa turned to face him, propping her hands on her hips. "Lucius, what do you want?" she asked, irritated. Why was he like this? He'd been unbearable since their divorce. Unbearable to think about, and now unbearable in person. But it wasn't Lucius she was upset with. No, Narcissa was angry with Abraxas. It was just that her ex-husband was the one who got the brunt of it because he apparently thought it was okay to keep coming around.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, his eyes travelling down her body. She was dressed as if she were heading out; high-waisted skirt that clung to her slim frame and a silk shirt tucked in nicely. He noted the shoes in her hands: high heels. She had always looked amazing in them.

Narcissa took the opportunity to slip into her shoes. "It's none of your business-"

"Why are you always going out when I'm here?" Lucius cut her off.

Was he whining? He sounded like a child that wasn't getting their way! The blonde lifted her head, meeting his gaze, and replied evenly, "Why do you always show up unannounced?" Unannounced because he wasn't uninvited – he'd made that clear last time he'd stopped over. (And, really, as much as it pained her, she liked when he was here. For however brief a time it was.) Staring at him, Narcissa noticed just how lost he looked – and tired. He didn't look well; he looked far too stressed.

"Do you have a date?" he asked, accusingly.

The words hit Narcissa like a ton of bricks. She stared blankly at him before her expression transformed into something ugly: annoyance and disgust. That was certainly none of his business! "It shouldn't matter to you if I'm going out on a date," she said defensively. "Last time I checked, you were the one with a new fiance! Or have you forgotten about that slag that shares your bed now?" The audacity! It was okay for him to date – and get engaged! – but she couldn't? Oh, how he made her blood boil.

Lucius didn't answer right away; instead he stood there, looking miffed. His arms had folded across his chest in a defensive manner. "Jemima is not a slag, Narcissa," he replied (rather weakly) in a deep voice. The statement caused Narcissa to scoff. "And if you don't want me around, I reckon I'll be taking my leave-"

"Lucius," Narcissa said, exasperated, automatically reaching for his hand. He stopped and stared hopefully at her, his hand grasping hers back. "I'm meeting Talia for lunch… come by after supper, alright? Bring a bottle of wine." It was the least she could do, enjoying a bottle of wine with him. He was obviously trying to reconcile with her; she should try as well.

"Are you sure?" Lucius asked slowly, as if fearing that he might be pushing his luck by asking.

"Positive," Narcissa practically whispered, her anger melting away.

"Will you be around?" Narcissa almost went off on him, but then she spotted his familiar playful smirk. She smiled up at him. "Narcissa… I, I need my hand back." Heat rose in her cheeks, and she quickly dropped his hand. "I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight," Narcissa repeated with a nod.

oooOOOooo

The weather outside was not pleasant. It was mid-January; the wind was fierce and snow drifted off the roofs of buildings as Narcissa walked down the quiet Muggle street in London. She'd been so distracted when she had Disapparated, that she'd ended up four blocks away from her destination. (She was lucky she hadn't gotten splinched.) She could have Apparated again, but she didn't trust herself. So, in the cold and the snow and high heels, Narcissa made her way to the upscale wizarding restaurant that was nestled in the Muggle city. Finally, reaching her destination, she sighed happily. The door opened, and the young man who had let her in gave her a smile.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said as Narcissa stepped through the entrance to the building. She flashed him a friendly smile and stepped up to the hostess, stating that she was meeting a friend. Instantly, the hostess seemed to know who the blonde was meeting, and headed off towards Castalia.

"Sorry I'm late," Narcissa apologized instantly when she'd reached her friend. She bent down to kiss Talia on the cheek before taking her seat across from the other girl. Sitting across from her friend, Narcissa was able to observe her. She noticed straight away that Talia looked very tired, and like something was weighing on her mind. Her blonde curls were dull and nearly lifeless; there didn't appear to be any product in them, or any charm, to keep them from just hanging there. Her hazel eyes lacked any sparkle. "Talia… are you alright?"

Castalia was struggling with her answer, Narcissa was sure of it. It took a few moments, but eventually the other blonde shook her head. She reached for her glass of water and picked it up. Her hand was shaking so badly, however, that the clear liquid sloshed over the sides of the crystal glass and spilled all over Castalia's bony hand.

"Hey… hey," Narcissa said softly, reaching out to take the glass. She handed her longtime friend a cloth napkin to dry off her hand. She stared at her, concerned. "Tell me what happened. What's got you so nervous?"

Castalia gave her friend a wary smile and attempted to pick up the glass of water once more. This time, she didn't spill it all over the place. She took a few small sips before placing it back down and smoothing out the tablecloth. Narcissa waited patiently. She knew about Castalia's marriage to Yaxley; it had been arranged, and he was a terrible man to be married to. On more than one occasion, Narcissa had seen the bruises and the cuts (from his rings, Talia had always said) and the girl had even had her ribs broken before. She'd gone from a girl who laughed loudly, flirted shamelessly and gossiped too much with Narcissa in Potions class, to a quiet, subdued woman who was constantly looking over her shoulder.

"I'm pregnant," Castalia eventually managed to croak out, glancing around as if Drusus Yaxley would be right there, listening to everything they were saying. Narcissa opened her mouth, but the other blonde held up her hand and shook her head. She seemed to be trying to keep herself from crying as her other hand gripped the edge of the table. "Dru… Dru isn't the father."

Narcissa stared at her friend, unsure how to move forward. She didn't know what questions to ask. Luckily, Castalia seemed to pick up on this and continued to speak.

"Edmund Greengrass is the father," she spoke softly, flicking her eyes down and then looking up at Narcissa from under her lashes.

Silence surrounded them as Narcissa took all of this information in. She wasn't judging her friend; she was merely trying to process everything that she'd been told thus far. "Are you positive?" she asked after a minute, her tone matching the quiet one of Castalia.

Solemnly, Castalia nodded. "Yes," she whispered. Narcissa thought she could see her friend shaking, but she wasn't sure. "Dru hasn't… he has a mistress, you know? Possibly more than one. But, never mind that. We haven't had sex in… months. The only man I've been sleeping with is Eddie…" Castalia trailed off and then looked up at Narcissa, eyes full of worry. "Drusus will kill me, Cissy."

"What about your parents; have you told them?" Narcissa asked, and regretted it a second later. They were the ones who'd agreed to let their only daughter marry a monster. They turned their heads at the abuse Castalia had to endure. "Or your brother? You know he won't let anything happen to you." Tristan Avery had always been protective of his sister, despite the fact that she was the eldest. He, too, had seen the bruises on her body, and had begged his parents to let Castalia leave Yaxley. No such luck, however.

"I haven't told Tristan yet," the other blonde admitted slowly. She smoothed invisible wrinkles in the tablecloth again before looking up at her friend with fearful eyes. "Cissy, Dru will cut this baby out of me. He's going to be so angry."

Narcissa shook her head, determined not to let anything happen to Castalia. "No, he won't," she said. "I'll be with you when you tell him. He wouldn't dare try anything in front of me. We'll get-" Lucius. The name died on her lips. She swallowed, but then forced a smile. "We'll get you out safe and sound, yeah? How far along are you?" she added.

Castalia seemed glad that Narcissa had steered the conversation away from Drusus Yaxley and his temper. For the first time in what seemed like years, the young mother-to-be smiled. Genuinely. "Five weeks," she said. "I'm due in September."

"That's so exciting," Narcissa replied, her own face glowing. She wasn't too terribly jealous; of course, she wanted a child. More than anything. But that didn't mean she was so clouded by envy that she couldn't be happy for her friend. She was ecstatic for Castalia (and a little nervous because of the situation in which the baby had been conceived). "Talia, you're going to be a fantastic mother. Congratulations."

Castalia smiled and reached across the table for her friend's hand. "So will you, Cissy, someday," she replied gently. Then she let out a laugh; something that Narcissa hadn't heard come from her friend's mouth in years. She couldn't help but laugh herself. It was as if they were sixteen again, and laughing at something so inappropriate, yet they couldn't care less. "We'll raise them together! Promise me?"

"I promise," Narcissa agreed with all of her heart, yearning for it to be true.