Narcissa awoke that morning in a hot sweat. She groaned, dragging herself out of bed with self-force. As she did so, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror - and wasn't suprised to see she had big, dark circles under her eyes, and a rather pale expression. Picking up a fluffy dressing gown that had been draped at the end of her bed, she put it on before padding out of her room. She descended down the winding staircase, and saw Lucius in the hall. He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised and a small smirk creeping onto his face. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he said in an arrogant manner. She ignored him, and wandered into the dining room, slumping on a velvet-covered chair. Everything about this place was so posh, so imposing. A loud crack next to her indicated Dobby the house elf had arrived, whimpering slightly. "Mistress," he said in his squeaky voice, his eyes as round as tennis balls, "An owl has come for you, miss. Master Malfoy says, he says it's from your cousin, miss." Narcissa sat a little straighter, looking curiously at Dobby. "Thanks, Dobby ... where's Fluffy? The owl," she added, when Dobby looked confused. He clapped enthusastically and pointed at the windowsill, were Fluffy was sitting, looking quite composed as he ruffled his feathers. Pushing her chair back, Narcissa strode over to the owl and undid Sirius's reply quickly, before settling back in her chair and reading what he had written.

Dear Cissy, he had written in his untidy scrawl,

I can't even begin to explain how wrong you are blaming yourself. It's not your fault, it's no-ones. It's just one of those things that goes wrong, and no one's at fault. NO-ONE. I miss you too, even though it's only been over a day. We're not bothering to pursue our education; what's the point? We've already got excellent careers ahead of us. Can you spot the sarcasam? I can. Last night I looked at the stars and, as soppy as it sounds, I thought of you.
Can we meet? You and I. And pretty-boy-Lucius, if he insists.


Love, Padfoot.

She scanned the letter quickly, and as she was wondering how to reply, Lucius entered, carrying food on a silver tray. "Not getting your servant to do it?" snapped Narcissa, quickly putting her letter in her pocket. He smirked, sitting down and buttering himself some toast. "Now now, Cissy ... you don't want me to think you're not only a grump in the mornings - but at the breakfast table, too? My my ..." She glared at him, feigning deafness as she sat opposite him. He placed the toast he had been buttering on her plate, but she just stared at it.
"You know, you actually have to motivate yourself for it to be consumed," he pointed out stiffly.
She was about to throw the plate at his head, but remembered Sirius's reply. So, calming herself, she smiled sweetly at him and picked up the toast, eating it delicatley. He smirked, pleased, and opened the Daily Prophet. "Huh ... another murder."
"Is it Voldemort?" enquired Narcissa coyly, finishing her toast whole. He glanced at her.
"Yeah ... he didn't like this unlucky one." He indicated to the newspaper article.
"Ever noticed how the people Voldemort doesn't like end up dead?" she grabbed Lucius's toast and began to eat it at top speed, suprised at how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten properly for ages, and this food was pretty scrumptious. He chuckled, leaning forward in his seat and pressing his fingertips together, surveying her through cloudy eyes, his faint eyebrows raised as if in mockery. "Well - that's usually the case. And - people who aren't ... faithful to The Dark Lord also end up dead. But this man - Godfrey Pearl, had valuable information - refused to relay it and so ..." he mimed slitting at his throat, "Then it is only natural for him to end up dead."
"What kind of stupid name is Godfrey Pearl," muttered Narcissa, taking a swig of Pumpkin Juice. Lucius looked suprised at her bluntness, a flicker of worry tracing his face for a brief moment.
"Uh ... yeah. Anyway, what'd your letter say?" he asked, changing the subject swiftly.
"Sirius just wants to meet up."
"I see." he murmured, his grip around his clear goblet tightening.
"Can I?" She glanced at him hopefully. His eyes narrowed, and a sense of forboding flooded through him.
"Here? I don't want that ... thing, in my house. But you can go meet him in Diagon Alley, if you want."
"Why the hell would I want to meet him there?" she snapped, kicking her chair back in agitation. Her anger only seemed to amuse Lucius, who chose his words very carefully, before saying them in a toneless voice, "I doubt The Dark Lord would suspect you meeting him there."
Narcissa had to restrain herself from pouring Pumpkin Juice over his head. "Fine, fine. In that case, do you mind if I send him a response?"
He merely grinned.

After Narcissa had sent her a reply to Sirius, she wandered around the manor house aimlessly, after showering and dressing. It was so boring here ... suddenly, something caught her eye. The newest type of Nimbus; she wasn't even sure if had been released yet. Trust Lucius ... she grabbed it and ran out into the vast fields which couldn't even be considered as an orchard or garden, and mounting the broom, she zoomed off around the sky. It felt exhilirating to have the wind in her hair and the warm sun on her face. She hovered down carefully, noticing Lucius watch her. His expression was anger with a dash of admiration.
"That broom wasn't meant to be used ..." he said weakly. She shrugged at him, touching down perfectly.
"Should of locked it up then, shouldn't you?" she snapped, clambering off the broom. "Can I have it?"
"No," he snapped, snatching the broom off you and storming back into the manor. Narcissa sighed and wandered down by the lake, sitting at the edge. She was suddenly reminded of only a few weeks ago when she had been soaking up the sun with her best friends, wagging a few boring subjects to just hang out. This lake wasn't as magically inclined as the Hogwarts lake she was so used to. Granted, it did sparkle and shine, but the atmosphere was different - cold, almost. Shuddering, she bowed her head as she became lost in her memories.
She must of fell asleep, because when she came around, someone was shaking her awake. She blinked a few times, letting everything come into focus. Lucius pulled her to her feet. "Narcissa - come inside. It's lunch time."
Obediently, she followed him, her hands in her pockets. She hoped "it" wasn't obvious. Lucius gave her some sandwiches and a drink on a tray, before ushering her to her bedroom, as if understanding she needed some time on her own. He wasn't so bad ... but the majority of the time he was a git. She snorted to herself, munching a sandwich without further thought. In an attempt to de-bore herself, she turned on the radio, grabbed a book, and attempted to settle down.

A little later on, the window seemed to whisper to Narcissa. Then stones were thrown at it, causing her suspicions to arise. She heard Lucius open the front door, stifling a yawn. "You know, Black, most people tend to knock on a door before entering."
"I didn't know your stupid security password," grumbled a voice she recongized. Narcissa crept out of her room, and glanced down from the balcony. She saw Sirius at the doorway, being blocked by Lucius.
Lucius's lip curled. "I thought you were intelligent. The password is pure-blood, Black, something you're familar with, yet ah, how you befoul the family inheritance ..." Sirius had to contain his anger, and smiled falsely at Lucius. "So, where is my dear cousin?"
"In her room," sniped Lucius, his eyes swimming with great dislike at Sirius, "Go see her, if you wish."
"Wow, thank you, your highness," said Sirius sarcastically, bowing. With that, he pushed past Lucius and wandered up the winding staircase, his footsteps drawing closer and closer. Narcissa rushed back into her bedroom, but he saw her. "Hey! So you were watching that little dispute, then?"
She grinned. "It's good to see you too, dear cousin."
He took her hand and let her lead him to the bedroom she now occupied.
"Huh, nice room," he said, flopping down on the bed. This was followed by an awkward pause, so clearing her throat, Narcissa sat down next to him. He looked at her, his blue eyes shining. "So ... how are you coping?"
"Okay," she replied truthfully, "But I'd rather be with you ... all of you."
He smiled faintly. "So this is the end."
"Not completely."
"Narcissa - be realistic. When you get ... married to him, we'll hardly ever see each other. This is why I said we can never truely be together." He looked alarmed as tears filled up in her eyes."Narcissa, don't cry ..."
"I - I don't want any of this," she said, forcing her tears away."But I guess I have to accept it. We tried to run away from it all and look were it got us." She sniffed, and looked back at him directly. "Can we still, write ...?"
"Yes, of course," he replied firmly. He stood up. "I better get going." She stood up too, and gave him a final hug, burying her head in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to him comfortingly. He kissed her forehead affectionatley. "Narcissa ... don't forget us."
"Never," she whispered. And with a faint smile, and a look of concern in her cousin's eyes, he left.