And here is some Lucissa goodness at least! The chapter is named after the Gotye song. Enjoy!
She paced in the foyer, heels clicking and heart drumming. Narcissa could hear the angry swishing of her skirts and she worried she might crease her beautiful dress, but the concern could not counteract her restlessness.
"For Morgana's sake, Narcissa!" Whirling around, she saw her mother hurrying towards her. "Compose yourself immediately! This frantic attitude is most unbecoming."
"Yes, Mother," she mumbled. Druella eyed her quizzically.
"Are you nervous?"
Cissy swallowed. "Well… I suppose so, yes." She had no desire to confess the actual reason.
"There is no need," Druella said firmly. "This is your second ball – the first went wonderfully, and so shall all the ones that will follow. Do not let the Malfoys impress you – they know how to put on a show, which makes them equals to the lot of us, at the very best. We are Blacks, Narcissa."
"Yes, Mother." She took a deep breath and released it slowly from her lungs.
"Look at that…" Narcissa glanced up at the sound of her father's voice, and met his approving gaze. She had a small smile and walked forward to offer him her cheek. He lay a small, surprised kiss there. Special occasions.
"Now, if Bellatrix would hurry," Druella sighed. "We should arrive all together, and at a proper time…"
As though to emphasize her words, the flames whooshed green in the hearth, and Bellatrix stepped out, followed by her husband. Narcissa's eyes scanned her sister's dress swiftly; it was close-fitting, off the shoulder, and flowed beautifully. She had actually bothered fixing her hair too. Bella strode forwards to embrace her mother and sister briefly, and Cissy had a small smile at the picture they must make – Druella in regal blue, Bellatrix in silver and herself in amaranth. Three shades of the same innate elegance.
"Being here makes the whole ball ordeal seem almost less tedious," Bella commented as Rodolphus, in turn, greeted his in-laws.
"Then perhaps you ought to come more often," their father replied as he approached to kiss his eldest daughter's forehead. Bellatrix's eyebrows shot up, nearly reaching the place his lips had touched. None of Cygnus' daughters were very accustomed to small, affectionate physical touches, and Cissy wondered whether she had been the one to prompt his gesture.
"It's all in the comparison. I can't imagine anything worse than being stuck with Lavinia Lestrange all evening," Bellatrix added airily, getting past the astonishment.
Druella frowned. "You are a Lestrange now, Bella, as much as a Black," she reminded. "Rodolphus, do not accommodate her too much."
"I don't really mind," Rodolphus answered, "but I will keep an eye on her all the same." His eyes were currently passing from Black to Black, and Cissy sensed them lingering on her. It felt odd, as though he were trying to read something in them.
"I suppose it has become your business now," Druella sighed.
Rodolphus had a short laugh. "It has." Cissy glanced at him. He stared back with circled blue eyes until she had to look away.
"Weren't we supposed to be on schedule?" Bellatrix inquired mockingly. Druella pursed her lips in response and took a pinch of Floo powder before stepping into the hearth.
"Can't fathom why the Malfoys would want everybody to come by Floo," Bella commented as their mother disappeared. "My, Cissy, don't you look fidgety." Narcissa started and made an effort to keep still. If even her sister was noticing, well – that was no good news.
"They would have their guests blinded by light and luxury from the first second," Cygnus responded dryly. "Ashes in one's eye help."
Bellatrix laughed and Cissy forced a smile as their father added before he left: "It's very Malfoy."
Her fingers shook a little and she was careful not to drop the box of powder. It would only last a few seconds, she told herself, her hair was too perfectly fixed to suffer any damage – and she advanced into a tiny hurricane, roughly swept away by the inferno. She shut her eyes tightly, and cried her destination through her teeth.
Arrival blinded her indeed. The drawing room at Malfoy Manor was full of lights and laughing, conversing people; there was music in the background somewhere – coming from the ballroom, surely. Narcissa took a deep breath and tried to locate her parents, first. Her mother was in a small group with Lucius, and her father was shaking Abraxas Malfoy's hand, polite yet tense.
The flames roared low behind her and she felt Bella's arm slipping through hers, pulling her forwards. "Merry evening, sister."
She turned her head to meet her sibling's black eyes. "I will never learn to make sense of your moods, it seems," she whispered. "Salazar knows I try."
Bella tugged on her limb with a small smile. "Stop trying. You get silly ideas and you're already frantic enough tonight. You need a drink, Cissy, dearest."
"I am not frantic!"
She gasped a little as she suddenly found herself face to face with Lucius Malfoy. She had no idea whether her voice had carried, on her last sentence, more than she intended it to, and she felt a burning blush flooding her face.
"Good evening, Narcissa, Bellatrix," Lucius said smoothly, not seeming to notice her embarrassment, though he had to be pretending. His eyes lingered on the two of them. "You both look delightful tonight."
"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," Bella drawled, saving Cissy the trouble of having to speak herself.
"Rodolphus." The men nodded to one another.
"Don't give yourself any trouble, we don't need introductions, nor to be walked around the room. We will get some drinks, good evening to you," Bellatrix told Lucius before she towed Cissy away. Too shocked to react on time, the girl could only open her mouth, and then close it.
"What did you do that for?" she hissed as they neared the buffet.
"Oh, don't you start lecturing me on politeness, Cissy. You don't need to worry about the host. You can manage navigating through a ball on your own all right, and I am sure we didn't hurt his feelings. What you need right now is a drink." Picking up two glasses, she handed one to Narcissa. It was cool and filled to the brim with a clear, white liquid.
"What if I wanted to talk to him?" Cissy retorted, though a bit less angrily. Bellatrix turned to stare at her; her eyebrows shot up.
"Oh," she replied. "I see. Well, you said you were definitely over your little crush on Lucius Malfoy."
"I don't have a crush on him," she protested, humiliated. "We became friends. He's very pleasant."
"Yes, you might have mentioned that," Bellatrix commented distantly. She drank half of her glass, a silvery liquid Narcissa suspected must have been quite strong. She blinked a little as she lowered it.
"So may I go and talk to the people I appreciate, or were you planning to babysit me a little bit longer?" Cissy asked acidly.
Bella glared. "Merlin, how unbearable can you get? I'd never seen you in such a state over a ball before, and I couldn't very well figure it was because you were desperate to cling to Lucius Malfoy's sleeve. But yes, you can go, don't mind me."
"I was not in a state," Cissy hissed. "And it's not like you've been to my first ball."
"Oh, just go away then." Bellatrix downed her cocktail. Narcissa hurried away, easily slipping through the crowd.
She breathed deeply, hoping her face did not betray how flustered she was, and unthinkingly looked around for Lucius. Of course, he still stood by the hearth, greeting guests as they arrived, the perfect host; Abraxas and Circe were also busy making everybody feel welcome. Cygnus had disappeared somewhere and Druella was conversing animatedly with a group of ladies. Narcissa resigned herself to socializing for a little while. Although Bellatrix had ruined her mood, she still ought not to forget her duties.
Cissy glided her way through the party, chatting and sipping on her drink, her fingernails drumming broken little rhythms against the stem of the glass. She found herself tormented by two conflicting urges: half of her was drawn towards the music, longed to be held in a pair of firm arms and to twirl effortlessly, until she felt dizzy and breathless – yet she could not leave the ballroom, simply walk away as if nothing held her there. It was Lucius she wanted as her partner, very naturally, so naturally that she only truly realized it upon trying to picture another young man in his place. They had never danced before; of course they had to.
However, Lucius was the host and he could not go until every guest had arrived and been properly greeted. Narcissa hovered, anxiety nagging at her nerves. She was feeling raw, exposed; surely the regular glances she threw at the young Mr Malfoy were all too conspicuous – everyone would notice, whisper, gossip would spread and it would be so terribly embarrassing. Here she stood, unable to forget about him and go about her business, sighing and peering like a stupid little girl.
Her glass was empty and she mechanically went to fetch another. The liquid was warming her up and also gave her countenance. She was starting to find the lighting way too bright; everything glittered, everybody's smiles appeared toothy and their eyes too keen, seeing right through her. Narcissa chewed on her lip, her gaze leaping across the room. Her father and sister had disappeared; only Druella remained, thankfully too engrossed in conversation to notice her youngest girl's dismay. The glass shook a little between Cissy's fingers. She needed a breath of fresh air.
She still remembered the lovely gardens, though she would never have dared to wander there uninvited – not again. She only glanced once, through the window, before eventually leaving the drawing room. Voices drifted from a smaller lounge, then from what must have been a study, down the hall. The ballroom was on an upper floor, looking down across the domain. It was wide and beautiful, less blindingly lit, full of dancing couples. A young gentleman invited her almost right away, and Narcissa abandoned her drink to glide along with him, heels barely brushing the parquet.
She talked very little, merely murmuring responses whenever it proved strictly necessary. Her partner was a Bulstrode, she had forgotten the exact name. He appeared a bit flustered by her obvious lack of interest. When the song ended, he briefly bowed his head and strode away from her.
Just as she was making her way to the edge of the dance floor again, fingers brushed her shoulder lightly. There he was, as she spun around gasping. Lucius Malfoy smiled at her, his piercing grey eyes alight. She felt her heartbeat quicken painfully and desperately sought for a calm and witty word of greeting. None was to be found.
"Sorry I startled you," he spoke. "Shall we dance?"
She nodded once, a swift, shaky bob of her head.
His hand found her arm and she let herself be guided back to the dance floor. His hold was firm around her waist; they began twirling, just like she had imagined. There were a thousand things her mind could not have conceived on its own, things she now perceived, sensed and saw. There was their sheer proximity, Lucius' face just inches from her own, the shape of his lips as he smiled and the sheen of his smooth blond hair. There was his chest against hers, hard and defined, so solid. She guessed she could have leant against him, rested her cheek there, just above his heart. Not in public, of course.
"You are so quiet," he murmured. She avoided his gaze. "Narcissa."
"Mmm-mmm." With a small, panicked jolt, she realized that she was being dreadfully impolite. She behaved as though he would easily accept her behaviour, understand – as though it were all right, to let him see just how troubled she was. But there was no obvious bond between the two of them, no consensual secrecy. He could have walked away, right this instant, and told the world about Narcissa Black's blatantly displayed vulnerability.
"Do forgive me," she stammered. "I had things on my mind… I am feeling – slightly tired. This is a lovely evening, though. Delightful."
"Indeed," he said briefly. Cissy peered up at him, worried. He was staring off into the distance, thoughtful.
"Narcissa," he spoke again as the song came to an end and they parted. "I must attend to my guests, as you well know. I would quite like to take a walk with you, however. Could you meet me downstairs at eleven?"
Her heart traitorously skipped a beat. Narcissa nodded rapidly. "All right," she uttered through numb lips.
"Very good." He had a sudden smirk. "I would not mean to appear rude, but in the meantime, beware of our cocktails… Some are stronger than they appear, dreadfully so for a tired head." He kissed her hand swiftly, and strode off. Narcissa lingered for a minute, unsure of whether she should be flattered or slightly offended by his concern.
She had no more desire to dance. She felt a bit strange, actually, as though detached from reality; the voices, the dresses and the music all appeared so faraway, utterly irrelevant. It was a little less than two hours to eleven. Narcissa wandered through the ballroom, looking out across the grounds, or around at the people surrounding her.
Couples twirled and twirled, little groups moved lazily, parting and then coming back together, ladies chattered and sipped their drinks and gentlemen smiled, coolly nodding their heads. Each of them had their own place, their part to play. Then she spotted Bellatrix, sitting a ways away. She was the only woman in a group of men, leaned forwards as she spoke, and they all seemed to be listening. Rodolphus was there; he sat beside his wife, and from that distance Cissy could not tell the expression on his face.
She looked away again. For some reason the small scene was making her tense, on edge. After all, it meant nothing but Bellatrix's usual disregard of convention and ladylike behaviour. She was long used to that. Still; there was something in the way her sister seemed to whisper earnestly – and her husband's rigid bearing. Something she'd felt coming for ages, somehow, never willing to actually face it, never knowing where it began, never guessing where it might end.
Narcissa leaned her shoulder against a wall. Her heart was beating too fast. She wanted very badly to see Lucius, and yet feared that it might be the undoing of what little control she had left.
"Narcissa."
Cissy jumped, with a strangled gasp. Her father stood before her, tall and collected. He gave her a small smile. "I thought you would be dancing."
"Oh, I did, but I'm a little tired now," she responded quickly.
"Too tired for a waltz with your old father?"
She rested a hand on his arm, shaking her head lightly.
Cygnus Black was a good dancer, leading her gently but firmly as they glided across the room. "I should leave you to your suitors," he remarked. "Your mother would very much object to my behaviour."
"Mmm-mmm." Through half-shut eyes and from her father's arms, the blur of passing individuals appeared less important and less unnerving. She leaned into him carefully, dimly wondering where the proximity was coming from. "You are all about your daughters tonight," she whispered.
"And how lovely they are too." Jestingly, he brushed his fingers against her hair. "You very much deserve the attention."
"Will you dance with Bella too?"
He shrugged. "I have a feeling that she is otherwise occupied."
Cissy followed her father's gaze. The little grouping hadn't moved. "She could make time for us."
"No doubt." But his tone had turned bleak and Narcissa tensed slightly again.
"Do you know something I don't?" she dared ask.
He dismissed her with a light laugh. "Many things, I should hope."
"I'm worried about her."
His expression darkened. "I think you would do best to keep out of this, Narcissa."
She allowed her eyes to drift shut once more. Another song began and her father kept her on the dance floor for a little while longer, before he eventually let her go.
A group of young people happened to be sitting quite close to the chair Cygnus led her to; soon they greeted her, and she was effortlessly included her in their conversation. Virgil Greengrass was there, along with Cadmus Selwyn and a few other familiar faces. Alcyone Nott did appear shortly after Narcissa, but she seemed to focus entirely upon the male elements of the gathering. Cissy couldn't help but notice that Selwyn didn't give the impression that he was paying a tremendous lot of attention to his long-time girlfriend, but she did not dwell on the matter, doing her best instead to look witty and lively despite remaining on the sidelines of the conversation.
The lull of voices and girlish laughter helped empty her mind, drown out every other thought. Time slipped by more effortlessly; soon it was ten o'clock, then half to eleven. Narcissa rose gracefully, excused herself and glided to the door in a daze, her heart hammering, louder and louder. On the threshold, she turned and threw one last look over the ballroom. She suddenly spotted the small gathering of men among which Bella had sat earlier. It looked slightly smaller now, and neither of the Lestranges were to be seen. Her father also seemed to have departed. She shook her head and rushed to the lower floor.
Just as she stepped down the last stair, Narcissa noticed her mother leaving the drawing room. A flash of anxiety crossed Druella Black's features when she spotted her youngest daughter, but she swiftly composed herself and strode up to Cissy, linking arms with her.
"At least you are here," she murmured, weariness finding her tone.
"Is something the matter, Mother?" Narcissa replied in equally hushed tones. Druella sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Nothing of importance. Your father left."
Cissy felt an odd, wild spasm to her heart. She turned sharply, facing her mother and blocking the latter's path. "What – where? Why?"
Druella blinked and shook her head fast, looking shocked. "No, no, Narcissa, it is nothing. He was tired and went home, that is all. But he left me here, and Bellatrix had the nerve to depart even earlier, her husband at her heels. I should not even hope for her to behave in a proper manner anymore, but it is still taxing, and bad for your image as well as the family's – her two families'."
Having finished her rant, she took another deep breath, exhaling slowly. Cissy squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel a headache building. Pieces were stirring in her head, struggling to add up, painfully. She could not think straight. Bella and her husband, Bella in groups of men, Bella never being available. The dark circles under her eyes, the new fire in her voice, the random, overwhelming bouts of aggressiveness. Her father's worries. The restrained wrath in his tightly set jaw when he had stared across the room at Bella's friends. Andromeda's angry, anguished whispers, years ago…
"She's getting in trouble." Her own voice sounded hoarse and faraway to her ears. "What's going on? Who are these people she's hanging out with?"
Druella blinked. "Oh, well… She does seem to be awfully forgetting her place, if she was ever truly aware of it – but you should not worry too much, Narcissa. Surely she will grow out of it. And as long as your own behaviour remains flawless, this can hardly affect you very much." She patted her daughter's arm.
Cissy shook her head slowly, numbly. She could sense something was very wrong, had been sensing it for months, though it was easier to deny it. But Bella was gone Merlin knew where, and there was no way her little sister could reach her tonight.
"Narcissa." Druella was starting to sound quite worried. "Dear, I think we are blocking the way." With a little jolt, Cissy stepped forwards into the hall, thankfully empty.
"We should go back upstairs," Druella continued. "We will be staying until midnight at least, and if anybody asks, your father was suddenly very tired and Rodolphus had an urgent matter calling him away."
"Yes, Mother." As she glanced at her thin, white gold watch, she remembered Lucius and her head shot up. "Actually, I was thinking I might get back to the drawing room for the end of the evening. The music is giving me a slight headache and I wouldn't want it to impair my mood."
Druella hesitated. "All right. It could be better indeed to have one Black in each important room if we do not want to make it seem that half of the family has run off. I will see you in a few hours, then, my dear." She kissed her daughter's forehead briefly before rushing up the stairs.
Narcissa took a slow, deep breath. She was ahead of time. Though she had not been following Lucius' movements after they had parted, he was probably still in the ballroom, dancing with an abundanceof lovely young girls, and it would not do for him to leave too early. Maybe he had fallen under the charm of some pretty, smooth-spoken heiress and would forget to come at all. Nobody else would know – whyever would he have to keep his word? Cissy considered waiting in the drawing room instead, but leaving it again afterwards would look odd – suspicious, even, after her family's behaviour tonight. But she was Narcissa Black. She couldn't remain standing in a hallway waiting for a boy, were he a Malfoy. It was unbecoming. He wouldn't even come – surely he wouldn't.
Cissy walked to the drawing room, but she stopped with her hand on the doorknob. At that moment, she heard voices and laughter, coming down the stairs towards her. She fled, farther into the foyer, searching for some darkness near the entrance, but everything was clearly lit. Thoughtlessly, she touched the doors and they swung open. She was pulled in, swallowed by the slightly cooler air and the night sky.
Cissy staggered and sat down on the last step. Once again, she breathed deeply, hands flat on her lap. This was probably best. She could pretend she had been feeling faint, too hot. No, admitting to feeling faint was no good idea. But it was lovely out there. She could smell the flowers from where she sat. She could see the wide, velvety expanse of the night sky. She preferred closing her eyes, letting a light wind wash over her face, time wash over her.
When she heard the footsteps, her heart leapt up into her throat. She twisted around, and there he stood, towering above her.
"I could not find you anywhere," he said softly. "I hadn't realized you would be outside already."
Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She tried to smile. He was staring down at her, the moonlight glinting faintly in his hair. He would think her so odd again.
"Your gardens are really delightful," she eventually tried.
"They are my mother's." He extended a hand. "Would you still like a walk?"
His palm felt warm as he helped her up. She paused, uncertain, and climbed the two steps to stand at his level. Lucius did not release her fingers; he simply pulled her along, out into the darkness.
The night was quiet and deep, stretching starless overhead. They wandered slowly together, still holding hands. Words evaded Narcissa, but he did not seem to mind. She could hear the soft sound of their even breathing, and a low chanting of water in the distance. He led her on a small path to the side of the drive, until they neared the fountain.
"It's lovely," she spoke, finding her voice slightly raw, her throat tight. Lucius let go of her and she reached out unthinkingly, palms brushing the marble edge. Then she turned towards him, leaning her back against the cool stone. He stood closer than she recalled. His breath was nearly brushing her cheek.
He dipped his head towards hers and her eyelids fluttered shut at his approach. Their lips met briefly, unsettlingly warm. Cissy stretched her neck a little, her whole body reaching upwards, closer to him. She made to stand on her tiptoes and stumbled a little in her high heels; her hand clutched his forearm. His laugh echoed, low and rich, nearly against her skin. In a bout of recklessness, she kissed his open mouth and turned his amusement into something fiercer, darker somehow. His arm was at her waist again. He drew her tightly to him, and she could feel, resonating against her ribcage, the drumming of his heart.
They parted, breathless.
Narcissa leaned against the fountain again, and shut her eyes. The smell of his cologne subdued that of the flowers. Everything was full of Lucius, as though he were the centre of gravity that kept earth and sky in place. It frightened her, just like the ghostly, delicate touch of his fingers to her cheek, her ear, her hair. Everything was so silent outside, but the roaring of blood in her temples made it impossible to think.
"Won't you look at me?" he asked.
Docilely, she did. Tall, pale, determined and beautiful, he stood before her like something from another world. The night and the water behind her and the fire in his light eyes made everything so eerie, dreamlike. He took another step closer and she had a small gasp.
"Narcissa?" he called in a low voice.
Shaking a little, she nodded, and lost herself to his kiss.