A / N : Pandora, if anyone is wondering, is indeed the mother of Blaise, the Zabini in Draco's era. I'm not sure if you would call her an OC, because she is mentioned in the books. She apparently had seven husbands, all of whom died mysteriously, leaving her in possession of an obscene amount of gold. I see her as resembling a human Venus fly-trap, and I called her Pandora, because with a story like that, she sounds like trouble. Something her name ought to reflect!

The idea to put Narcissa in a different colour came from a PMing conversation I had after chapter two with xDoubleIndemnity. Which got me thinking, and indirectly inspired this little scene. Thanks Elaine!

Chapter title is from the song by Alphabeat. Reviews are always welcome. Enjoy!

Fascination

"Well well! If it isn't Lucius Malfoy! Tell me, when did you finish your NEWTs?"

Lucius turned around slowly, drink in hand. His questioner was the hostess of this particular party, Pandora Zabini. A tall black woman with sharp cheekbones and thick, glossy hair, she was immaculately put together and swathed in a haze of perfume which would have been enough to rob a man of his senses even without the accompanying good looks. Lucius, however, was quite immune to her charms, having spent four years in the company of Bellatrix Black. Women didn't get much more dangerous than her.

"I finished my NEWTs four years ago," he said smoothly, "as you well know. I dont know why you invited me."

Only Pandora would throw a party to celebrate others in her social circle finishing their exams. Lucius had never been sure if this tendency of hers was borne of selflessness or a simple desire to party at any given opportunity. She laughed.

"Oh come now," she said poutingly. "You know as well as I do that a party is only as amusing as the guests in attendence. Avery? Mulciber? That Parkinson girl? Dull, dull, dull. No. I invited you, darling, because I knew that if you came, your little Cissy would come too. And she's such a darling."

Lucius choked. "My little who?" he managed at last.

Pandora slapped him on the arm. It stung. "Cissy. You know. The Black girl. Tiny blonde thing. She dances like a dream."

Lucius frowned. "Yes, I know who she is," he said irritably. "But I have no idea why you would call her mine."

Pandora giggled. "Don't play coy with me," she breathed, leaning in close. "A little birdy told me-" she smiled - "that you finally noticed the only girl for you has been under your nose all this time."

Lucius scowled. "What was the name of this bird?"

"What does that matter?" Pandora widened her eyes in faux-innocence.

"Because I might like to wring its neck."

Pandora laughed again, a throaty sound. Then she leaned in close once more and whispered, "I wouldn't bother with all that, if I were you. Poison is so much cleaner." Her smile widened even further, and Lucius was suddenly struck by how shark-like it seemed.

"Tell me," he said slowly, "is this your fourth husband?"

Pandora pulled back from him and laughed again, throwing her head back in carefree abandon. "Lucius, darling! Please! He's my fifth."

She winked, and Lucius swallowed. "Of course," he murmered. "Your fifth. How forgetful of me . . ."

Thankfully, he was distracted at that moment by the entrance of another beautiful young woman. This one, however, was fair haired and infinitely more innocent than Pandora. Narcissa. She spotted him almost instantly and smiled. Before Lucius really knew what was happening, the muscles of his face were moving too, in something that he would have called a smile, though it didn't bear any resemblence to the expression he usually gave that name to. It seemed to split his entire face in two, and disturbingly, he couldn't seem to make it a little more restrained. At least, not while simultaneously staring at Narcissa. And then she pushed through the crowd, and he saw, for the first time, what she was wearing. He choked.

He heard, dimly, Pandora's voice in his ear.

"Doesn't she look divine?" she said with a gloating laugh. "Now Lucius, darling, do play nice. Don't forget to compliment her. You really have no idea how long I've been trying to get her out of those pastels . . . . Cissy!"

She broke off, flinging her arms around Narcissa's neck. The younger girl smiled, tolerating it, but over Pandora's shoulder, she rolled her eyes at Lucius. He tried to smile back. He really did. But he seemd to have lost all control over his face now, and he could only hope that his shock wasn't reflected in his expression. She was wearing red. Blood red. The colour was one he had honestly never imagined on her, though seeing it now, he couldn't think why. The porcelein white of her skin, the yellow of her hair . . . and the colour. The red. There were words, he knew, for that colour, and there were words in his head (lots of them, in fact) for Narcissa. But somehow, he couldn't put the two together. So he simply stared at her, stunned into silence, as Pandora babbled on and on, her words dancing just beyond his comprehension.

"So as I was saying to darling Lucius, a party just isn't a party without the right guests. And that means a Black girl! I would say a Black boy, but Orion's eldest is turning out quite the blood traitor-in training, and little Regulus is too young to have any fun. Bellatrix is the life of any party, of course, but getting her there . . . . I might as well whistle down the wind. She always seems to have something else to do. But not you! No, you're my darling, really. Such a perfect little thing . . . oh! If it isn't the latest Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet!" She frowned. "I don't recall inviting him. And he's such a dreadful snoop . . . do excuse me. Have fun! Enjoy yourselves!" She pushed Narcissa in Lucius' general direction, looking immensely pleased with herself, and departed, along with her accompanying aura of perfume. Strangely, this didn't make it any easier to breathe. It took Lucius a moment to realize Narcissa was talking.

" . . . for the flowers," she said shyly. "They were lovely."

She waited, expecting a response. But yet again, the necessary words wouldn't leave his throat. If he had to speak, Lucius had the feeling a faintly strangled sound was all that would emerge. Narcissa frowned.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

"Mmm." He swallowed the rest of his drink in one. He had the funny feeling he was going to need the extra fortitude.

Narcissa blushed, smoothing the silk of her dress with a small, self-conscious smile. "You don't like it, do you?" she said nervously. "I told her it didn't suit me, but then she said I was really the whole reason she was having the party, and I didn't want to be rude . . ."

She trailed off unhappily. Lucius frowned, carefully setting down his drink. Christopher Avery had just entered the room, that obnoxious Parkinson girl twined around his arm. Narcissa's mother stood on the other side of the room, beady eyes fixed upon her daughter. Pandora had one hand seductively on the arm of a journalist, half-focused on her easy flattery but with one eye nonetheless upon Narcissa. Most of the room, in fact, was watching them. There really couldn't be a worse time to do this. But then again, would there ever be a better time? People, in Lucius' experience, tended to gossip either way. It might be better to give them something to talk about.

So he pulled Narcissa close, touching his thumb gently to the red gloss on her lips. Just for an instant.

"Actually," he murmered, "I was wondering what you were trying to do to me."

He smiled at her confusion, and then he pulled her even closer, so that they were much too close for anyone to mistake the moment for friendship. Heads had begun to turn towards them, curious eyes searching them out, but he didn't care. He didn't care about Avery, or Pandora, or Druella Black. In that moment, he didn't care about anything. He didn't care if the whole room was watching. He didn't care if they would be a source of gossip for weeks on end after this. For all he cared, Pandora's journalist friend could put it on the front page of the Prophet.

He stopped caring, and kissed Narcissa.