Drabble Request Thread; for thelightningstrike, James and Narcissa, "I can't keep loving you."
Trust
It starts when James is at St. Mungo's with Lily—"Nothing to worry about, dear, just false labor." Lily's resting, so James wanders the halls.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" A woman's scream; James runs.
"Out! Are you the father?"
He doesn't speak, staring past the Healer at the blonde woman on the bed. Her mouth is open in a now-silent scream.
"Then you can stay, but keep out of our way!" the Healer takes his silence for assent.
Mute, James moves to the woman's side. Her fingers grip his hand with surprising strength.
Hours later, he's as exhausted as she is. It was a hard labor.
"My baby," she croons. The boy's chin is rather too sharp, and he has a few strands of almost-white hair.
"He's beautiful," James lies, and is rewarded when she smiles.
"He's my Draco," she sings, "Draco Malfoy."
Malfoy? James stares at her in shock. "Where's his father?" he manages to get out.
She looks down, quickly. "Business."
The kind that involves killing innocent people? James knows Lucius Malfoy by reputation. He doesn't deserve this blonde angel. Doesn't deserve such a wonderful family.
But for the first time, James thinks maybe Death Eaters are human, too.
--
He doesn't see her again for a couple of months. Harry is born. Lily stays home more now.
It's after a successful mission. He and Sirius are celebrating at the pub. Sirius has a girl on either arm.
James is bored.
There's a flash of gold—she's not drinking, just staring at the countertop.
James feels proprietary toward her, after helping her have a baby and all, and he's by her side before he realizes he's moved.
"Narcissa," he breathes.
--
She tastes like vanilla and sin and cold metal—her fingers twine in his untamable hair and she stands on tiptoe to reach him—she really is a tiny thing, his hands could span her waist—
"Godric, you are so beautiful," he moans into her golden hair when she moves against him—
--
"When can I see you again?" he asks.
"When're you free?" she counters. The candlelight darkens her eyes.
"Well, I have—something—tomorrow night," he thinks aloud.
"Where? Maybe I could meet you. After."
"Okay—Hog's Head, eleven-ish. Should be finished."
"Hogwarts business?"
Noncommittal shrug. Good-bye kiss.
--
Weeks pass. Sirius laughs, like always, and James feels a sliver of guilt. She's Sirius's cousin, after all. And he never hides anything from his best friend.
Lily looks frazzled, taking care of Harry constantly, still no word from Dumbledore, but he's been hearing things, whispers about You-Know-Who and children—
"I can't keep loving you," he tells Narcissa finally.
She runs her fingers through his hair and her tongue over his lips, and he forgets the rest of his prepared speech—her name the only thing echoing in his thoughts—
--
Narcissa smirks behind her hair. James is proving very useful, and if he chooses to think her golden crown a halo, who is she to enlighten him?