The Harry Potter universe and its characters are the sole property of J. K. Rowling. By using them below, I am in no way claiming them as my own.
'Narcissa!' Her mother wailed, bursting into the chamber. The door slammed against the wall, shocking Narcissa and her sisters awake. Druella was still clad in her nightdress, her expression incredulous. Her hair was a tangled, dark mess around an unmade face. 'Pack your things!' She insisted, her hands flailing in frustration at her children's sleepiness.
Narcissa had never seen her mother in such a state - Druella had always been particular about being dressed and neat before leaving her chambers, even if she were only making herself presentable for her daughters. The sudden image of their unkempt mother was humanising, breaking the stone façade Druella had spent decades perfecting.
With her daughters still slow to wake up and realise the severity of their situation, Druella stormed across the room in annoyance and ripped open the travelling trunks. Any nearby possessions were easy game, being grabbed and flung haphazardly into the cases. 'Get up!' She shrieked once more, turning back to the bed once there were no more belongings to throw. There was a light blush in Druella's cheeks while her eyes had welled up, the tears threatening to spill forth.
Narcissa rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, verifying if what she were seeing were reality. She had never seen her mother like this before.
'Mother,' Andromeda ventured, slipping out from under the covers. Her sister seemed equally concerned by the sudden admission of feelings from Druella. Bellatrix was still half-asleep in the centre of the bed, her eyes blinking out from a mess of curly hair. 'Mother, what are you doing?' Andromeda asked, walking over to the trunks to salvage her clumsily-packed clothes.
'No, Andromeda!' Druella batted Andromeda's hands away, causing her to drop a rescued petticoat back into the trunk's depths. 'The wedding is off.'
'What do you mean, the wedding's off?' Narcissa asked, her hands clutching at the duvet. It couldn't have happened so soon...
Bellatrix suppressed a yawn and climbed from the bed, retrieving her black dressing gown from a nearby chair and pulling it over her shoulders. With her lingering dreams, Bellatrix hadn't comprehended her mother's words.
'It's over, Narcissa.' Druella flung her arms out, hopeless. 'We're ruined.'
Being the closest and most considerate of the Black children, Andromeda tried to reach out and place a hand against Druella's shoulder in reassurance. Their mother wanted no sympathy, the outburst of emotion quickly receding behind stone walls. Once again Druella was emotionless and cold, the way of many pureblood families, the way she had been brought up to be. Druella strode across the room and to the doorway, her expression stern. 'We're leaving.' She abandoned her daughters without a backwards glance, leaving the door wide open.
Bellatrix had realised the seriousness of her words, freezing in the act of tying her dressing gown. Pale hands began to tremble, dropping the satin ribbon. 'We can't be leaving,' she assured, firmly in denial. Her eyes glanced between her sisters frantically, her expression pained. 'No...'
Trying to re-direct her sympathy to a more receptive party, Andromeda took a step closer to her sister. Horrified, Bellatrix pushed Andromeda aside, making the youngest Black stumble and fall onto the bed. She looked up from the tangle of blankets, her head practically in Narcissa's lap, confused. Bellatrix had begun to recoil in on herself, her arms moving around her waist and tightening their grasp. She began to gasp for air, the grip on herself hindering the movement of her ribs.
'Bellatrix!' Narcissa climbed from the bed instantly, bare feet hitting the floor. She ignored the sting of cold stone and rushed around the bed to her sister and tried to prise the witch's grip free, terrified that she were hurting herself. 'Why are you doing this?' She demanded, managing to pull Bellatrix's arms free. Her hands clasped her sister's, trying to stop Bellatrix from hurting herself again. 'I'll find another match, Bella, this one doesn't matter,' she insisted, trying to calm her sister down.
'You think I care about you and Lucius!' A storm raged behind Bellatrix's eyes, violent and distant. She pulled her hands free from Narcissa's, shooting her a death-glare. Andromeda pushed herself up from the bed to stand side-by-side with Narcissa.
'What's wrong with you, Bella?' She asked.
Bellatrix's breathing had accelerated, the effort causing her chest to bulge against the neckline of the nightgown. Without a word the pushed past the pair, running out of the doorway and into the corridor. The muffled footsteps faded in the distance.
Narcissa's arms moved around her own waist, a sob caught in her chest.
'Weddings bring out the worst in people,' Andromeda offered with a grimace. Narcissa took a step back to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling overwhelmed by a sudden sense of guilt. 'Cissy?'
Her sister opened her mouth to try and give more reassurance, but was interrupted as several house-elves moved into the room. They strode over to the trunks with purpose, silently reclaiming, refolding and rearranging the sisters' belongings for the journey. Narcissa watched, feeling sick to her stomach. Andromeda sighed and moved over to the vanity, her hands reaching up for her hair to undo the rag-curls.
I wanted to leave... Narcissa tried to reason, but she wasn't so sure. Her hands shook in her lap. She'd been desperate to return home since they had left, but the thought of returning back to the Black house now, in shame... what was left for her there? An unfeeling mother and emotionally-absent father. She bowed her head in disgrace for having such thoughts. They care about me. They do. Yet she wondered if she could face returning home unwed. Her sisters wouldn't be there to support her forever. Bellatrix was determined to make a fine match and Andromeda still had a few years left at Hogwarts before her own betrothal would be arranged. What if she had lost the opportunity at ever being free from the Black house, and would end up a spinster looking after her frail parents? What if she'd given up her only chance at life?
Her thoughts moved to Lucius. The brief time at Malfoy Manor had been unlike anything which had come before, a terrifying yet exhilarating mixture of subterfuge and romance. Hers and Lucius' plan to avoid the match had worked well, their alliance being better than anything they could have anticipated. If she left now, would she ever see him again? Would he even want to see her?
She let out a half-laugh, more panicked than amused, as she realised how her feelings for the reluctant engagement had changed. The elves paused in their task, shooting worried glances at her. The room suddenly felt claustrophobic, suffocating. Narcissa pushed herself up from the bed, unable to watch as her life was packed away. Without a word to Andromeda she ran from the room, longing for the cold sting of Autumn air.
She paused at the base of the stairs upon hearing voices, pushing herself into the shadows of the wall. The voices were slowly rising in volume and anger, and seemed to be emanating from the study-cum-library, the room where Lucius had taken her on her first night at the Manor. She crept along the wall and closer to the room, recognising the voices as her fathers' and Abraxas Malfoy.
'I'll not have your family over my threshold again!' Abraxas screamed. Narcissa inched forward in the darkness, edging closer and closer to the study. The door was yanked open, firelight spilling out into the corridor. She paused, her breath catching in her throat as she pushed herself closer against the wall, hoping to avoid being caught eavesdropping.
'Do you know how this looks?' Cygnus pleaded.
'Begone!' There was a dull thud, as if books had tumbled to the floor.
'Abraxas,' her father pleaded once more. 'Old friend...'
'Get out I say!' There was the sharp sound of breaking glass. Narcissa peered around the doorframe. Abraxas was stood behind his desk, his face red and his fists clenched. Glass glittered on the floor near her father as firewhiskey began to soak into a threadbare rug from the smashed decanter. Cygnus stood facing his once-friend, wand in his hand. He had deflected the whiskey-missile with a spell.
'It is broken between us,' Cygnus growled. She had never seen her father so consumed by any emotion, let alone the anger and hatred which laced his words. Her father turned and left the room. Narcissa quickly pressed her back against the wall, hoping she might blend with the shadows. Cygnus did not look her way, instead striding angrily in the opposite direction and towards the main entrance of the Manor. The door slammed closed, making her jump.
Shaken, Narcissa continued her journey along the corridor. She turned to move through the empty dining-room, the wooden floorboards creaking under her step as she slipped through a hidden doorway at the far side of the room. As she had hoped, it led to the kitchens and a back-entrance, with none of the house-elves attempting to stop her passage. She escaped into the grounds with relief, the cold air lapping at her exposed arms. The wet grass was a welcome comfort under her feet, bringing some sense of familiarity to the situation she had now found herself in.
Her desperation to break the engagement had hurt more than just her.
Not knowing where else to turn, yet wishing to avoid her parents for the moment, Narcissa walked along the far side of the grounds to the tree-line. Retracing the path she took with Lucius, she followed the torturous route through the woods to the Malfoy mausoleum.
Once she reached the white, stone structure, she fell to her knees, eyes focussed on the engraved words - 'Malfoy'.
The eerie silence of the woods was broken by the sound of metal on metal. The door to the crypt slowly swung open on its hinges. Surprised, Narcissa pushed herself up into a standing position.
Allesandria Zabini stood in the doorway, her look stern. The Malfoy mistress was clad in emerald and gold robes, her dark hair pulled back to the crown of her head in a bun, which was held in place by a small gold tiara. She looked more regal than ever. Her hands twisted in the fabric of her robes and she stepped slowly but confidently down the steps to the forest floor, her eyes locked onto Narcissa.
'Your plan worked better than you'd hoped,' Allesandria mused, the blood-red lips curling up into a cruel smirk. Narcissa was silent as Allesandria walked in a circle around her, examining her like a lion examines its prey. Allesandria's fingers ran across the back of Narcissa's shoulders, a mocking gesture. 'Lucius is particularly pleased with the outcome.'
'He is?'
'Why, of course.' Allesandria tilted her head and paused in front of Narcissa. Her golden gaze seemed to burn Narcissa's skin, making her shiver underneath her nightdress.
'What were you doing in there?' She ventured, fighting against her instinct to run. The cruel smirk changed to a mocking smile.
'It's nothing for you to worry about. Shouldn't you be leaving?'
Allesandria's look no longer suggested hatred but confirmed it, every pretence of kindness fading. She laughed, the sound rebounding from the stone crypt and the adjacent trees, its pitch increasing, hurting Narcissa's ears. Narcissa turned and ran through the trees, bare feet stinging as they came into contact with rocks and twigs, but she ignored the pain. Her gut was screaming for her to get away from Allesandria and the Manor and never look back.