(1977, July)

Narcissa

Narcissa sighed, or as close as she could come in full wedding regalia. The corset was very tight. This was the antepenultimate fitting, and Madame Rousseau was determined that she would be perfection incarnate come Lammastide. The entire wedding, it felt, had been planned by others on her behalf. Lucius' mother and Aunt Alethea had done the bulk of the work, but Druella had decided, for the first time Narcissa could remember, to involve herself in her daughter's life, and apparently had Opinions on everything from the colors to the robes to the ritual vows.

Madam Malfoy and Aunt Alethea were difficult enough to deal with – they got along tolerably well, and similar tastes, but she was still wary of them as in-laws, and they were tentatively negotiating the beginning of that new relationship between them. Druella's presence made everything exponentially harder. She never agreed with either of them on anything, and worse, she expected Narcissa to side with her, simply because she was her daughter (never mind that this might be the first time in her life Druella had ever acted like a mother), and got stroppy when Narcissa pointed out that her suggestions were horrid or impractical. She strongly suspected that Melete Malfoy would judge her very harshly if she were to be so rude as to refuse to consider any of her mother's contributions, but she wasn't winning any points by not supporting her mother-in-law, either. Aunt Alethea apparently felt the whole situation was hilarious, and delighted in tossing little barbed comments into the fray on both sides.

Narcissa had spent every day since she returned home from Hogwarts feeling as though she was sailing between Scylla and Charybdis, and it was only a matter of time until she fell to one or the other. Even Lucius had wedding demands, though his were generally easier to accommodate, along the lines of including his favorite canapes at the buffet afterward and which musicians they ought to retain for the evening, or else had been long since agreed-upon, such as the date and holding the ceremony at Malfoy Manor, rather than one of the Black estates or in France.

Mostly, she decided, it was just irritating that it all had to be such a big production. Or maybe that it was supposed to be a production for her, but no one truly wanted her input on anything. Or maybe that even that, though no one actually cared what she thought or wanted, she still had to be involved with every decision.

It was incredibly frustrating.

Especially since Bella had gotten married at Yule, and she distinctly did not recall her older sister having to have nine robe-fittings over the course of eighteen months or arguing with Druella or Madam Lestrange over the flowers for her bouquet. She had also never mentioned having to sit with the goblins and Robert Lestrange and Pater Arcturus for days on end hammering out the final details of her marriage contract. That didn't mean it didn't happen, but if it had, she was willing to bet it had been less tedious than Narcissa's negotiations.

She didn't often regret having missed out on the Black Family Madness, but she suspected it might be very nice to have everyone jump to your every order, regardless of whether it was only out of fear that you might start deciding to practice curses on them or send Death Eaters to burn down their house.

Being the Dark Lord's favored former Apprentice might've helped, too.

She sighed again as Madame Rousseau carefully unwrapped her, layer by layer, returning her wedding robes to their stand. She wondered if perhaps she shouldn't make Lucius come to one of these things, so he knew how to get it off of her when the time came.

Which led her thoughts back to another issue which had begun to preoccupy her more and more as the big day quickly approached: despite being as horny and interested as any other Hogwarts student, Narcissa had not actually had sex yet. She had snogged a fair few boys (and a couple of girls as well), but they had all been wary of drawing down the wrath of her family if they went too far. With Bella outside of school, and Reggie in Slytherin, they had, in fact, had plenty to worry about. Even Sirius had done his part to interfere in her love life (or rather, lack thereof) until he really started to draw away from the Family. Most of the time the relationship itself hadn't gone far enough to get to that point, though, anyway, because she had a habit of only wanting the worst possible people. She hadn't wanted to be the kind of girl who was too easy, but it had, on occasion, been very tempting, if only to get a bit of experience. But everyone had known that she and Lucius were going to get married as far back as fifth year, so it was hardly surprising that they all shied away and acted like they would be cuckolding him if they actually did it.

It was going to be her wedding night in less than a month, and she found that she was suddenly reluctant. Slightly terrified, even.

It wasn't that Lucius wasn't handsome or a perfect gentleman. He was, on every occasion.

It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of sex.

She just… hadn't ever done it, before. Not with someone else. Not even at Walpurgis. And she couldn't, for some reason, imagine doing it with Lucius. Reggie, yes. Gio Zabini, yes. She had even on occasion thought about Barty Crouch and Frank Longbottom as she explored herself. But for some reason, Lucius, her actual fiancé, who was about to become her actual husband, just… wasn't attractive.

Not like that.

Her theory was that he was too refined.

Too perfect.

She couldn't imagine him actually giving in to the wildness of sex and actually enjoying it.

The fact that Malfoys 'didn't do' the whole public sex-ritual thing might have had something to do with that impression.

So she was fairly certain that she wouldn't just be able to let herself get caught up in the moment and let things happen naturally.

It would be a duty, not a pleasure.

She was, of course, willing to fulfill that duty – she wanted to be a good Lady of the House and have children someday – but she didn't know what was going to happen and how it was all going to work, and there was not a single person she could think to ask. Druella, Melete, and Alethea were all right out, because, well, Druella was Druella, and it wouldn't be appropriate to ask her future in-laws. Same for anyone male, and anyone over thirty was bound to treat her like a child, anyway, which she didn't think she could stand. She didn't have any female friends, really, and definitely none who were already married and whom she would trust with a potentially embarrassing, personal question like this. She wasn't even particularly close to any of her older female cousins – not enough that she would feel comfortable asking them about their married lives.

For the first time in years, Narcissa wished she hadn't stopped writing to Andromeda. She would have been a perfect confidant – she had presumably been married to That Mudblood for years, and it wasn't as though she could tell anyone who mattered about anything Narcissa told her. But it had been nearly five years since she'd stopped, and there really was no question of looking up her blood traitor ex-sister just for advice on how to handle her wedding night.

That just left… Bellatrix?

This was going to be, as a certain estranged cousin might put it – a shit show.

But she had to ask someone.

"Hello, Bella," she called, tapping on the door to her sister's study. "Can I talk to you?"

"What? Narcissa? Why?" Bella tossed her quill in an inkpot and looked up, her mind obviously a million miles away.

That, the younger witch decided, was probably enough acknowledgement to sit. "What are you working on?" she enquired politely.

Bella grinned. "Time travel. What did you want to talk about?"

"Time travel? But that's not possible!" Time travel – real time travel, on purpose – was a thing of story books and fae tales, not the sort of thing one's sister worked on in her spare time.

"Sure it is – watch." She checked the time as a small contraption made of glass and gold and filled with sand appeared, along with a copy of an arithmancy book which appeared to be the same as the one sitting off to Bella's left side. The older witch slid both of them toward her, and set the contraption where the book had been. "It's the same book," she smirked.

Narcissa looked at her in disbelief, then cast a few diagnostic charms at the objects. They certainly seemed to be real, not an illusion or conjured or duplicated. After about five minutes, Bella took one of them from her, pulled another contraption (the same as the first) from one of her desk drawers, checked the time again, and tapped it with her wand. Both object and book vanished. The first contraption went back into the desk drawer. "What…?"

Bella's smirk only widened. "It's been a pet project for years, but thanks to Cousin Liam's work on Fundamental Identity, we're actually making some progress now. Very exciting, don't you think?"

Narcissa nodded absently, her mind whirling with the possibilities of reliable, intentional time travel. "Yes, exciting."

"Well, I know I haven't told you about it before, and we're not ready for human trials yet, so you can't have actually appeared wanting to talk about time travel. What is it?"

"Wait – what?"

"It's not funny if I have to explain the joke. Keep up, Cissy. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, well… it seems a bit silly in comparison…"

"What's silly is you wasting my time and yours by not asking," Bella pointed out in her familiar teacher's tone.

Narcissa steeled herself and managed to blurt out, "What was your wedding night like?"

Bella actually laughed. "Nothing like yours will be, I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I assume you do plan on consummating your marriage?"

"You didn't?"

"Rodolphus is a weak, obnoxious slob who has been obsessed with me since we were children. His only redeeming qualities are his fortune and his willingness to obey my every whim. I informed him that if he ever attempted to touch me, I would remove his disgusting testicles with whatever sharp object happened to be closest."

Narcissa knew she shouldn't laugh, but the image of Bella threatening her great buffoon of a husband with a fork or a fireplace poker was quite amusing. "So why did you marry him in the first place?"

Bella shrugged. "My Lord asked me to gain control of the Lestrange fortune."

"Oh. And here I thought that was Bella Zabini's game," Narcissa teased gently.

Bella sniggered. "I'm not planning on killing Rodolphus off – he is of some use in the field, after all – just investing in certain people and businesses that Robert has been reluctant to fund after he tragically passes on."

"I… see."

"Mmm," Bella hummed. "So! Wedding night! Have you talked about it with dear Lucy?"

"Well, no – it would just be… awkward. If you haven't done it with Rodolphus, then… what was your first time with the Dark Lord like?" she asked tentatively, then added at the look Bella gave her: "Oh, come off it. Everybody knows."

Bella rolled her eyes. "I know. But what makes you think being with Malfoy would be anything like being with my Lord?"

"Sex is sex, isn't it?"

The older witch laughed. "Cissy, it was at Malfoy Manor and it started out awkwardly. Aside from that, I guarantee it was nothing like your first time will be."

"Tell me anyway," Narcissa begged.

The Death Eater gave her a long, evaluating look. Probably, Narcissa thought, deciding whether Narcissa could be trusted not to tell anyone. She could, of course. She was just curious what it was like – she wasn't sure she could believe the sort of things her year-mates had told her over the years, and reading about it, sensationalized in novels or in clinical medical texts, wasn't the same as someone actually telling about their own experience.

"It was violent," she eventually admitted. "Passionate, you might say," she continued, in an ironically dispassionate tone, which made Cissy smile. "I told him I wanted sex as my seventeenth birthday gift. He threatened to do all manner of terrible things to me, and we fought… he dislocated my wand arm and I tackled him to the ground. He cut my clothes off of me. I resisted him, mostly, but we both knew I wanted to lose. I'd been flirting after him for years, you see. And then after we finished, he made some joke about how I'd ruined his productivity for the day and we raided Abraxas' cigar stash looking for proper fags," she smirked.

"That sounds…" Narcissa was at a loss. Horrible. It sounded horrible. And it told her almost nothing about the act of sex itself. "He dislocated your arm?"

Bella shrugged. "Not a big deal."

"Didn't it hurt?"

Her sister grinned. "I didn't mind. Like I said, though, it'd be different with Lucy. He's not a sadist, nor a masochist, and if he tries to force you to be submissive, you have my permission to twist his balls and tell him that's what muggle whores are for."

"What?! Bella!"

"What?"

"I don't want my husband looking at other witches, let alone muggle whores!"

Bella rolled her eyes. "That's not the point, Cissy – just make it clear to him that you're still a Black and he can't just order you about because you're taking his name and joining his House."

"Is he, erm… likely to?"

The older witch shrugged. "Just don't let him get in the habit of demanding whatever he likes from you. If he's anything like his father was, or his uncle Scorpius, it would be very easy for him to fall into the habit of thinking he's entitled to anything he likes."

"But isn't it good, I mean… if he knows what he wants?"

"Marriage is one of those things that it's really best to start off the way you intend to go forward. Don't let him set any bad precedents, you know?" Bella's matter-of-fact tone was terribly frustrating.

"But what if… What if I don't know what I want?" Narcissa nearly wailed.

"Wait – what do you mean? Like for the marriage?"

"No, for sex!"

Bella started sniggering uncontrolledly. "Are you actually a virgin, Narcissa?"

"Yes! Somebody in this family has to act like a lady," she groused, as though her lack of experience was solely her choice. Bella did not seem any less amused by the jab at her own behavior. "Why do you think I'm so concerned about this?!"

"Oh, um… because it's Lucius, and he's a bit of a tool? Sorry, Cissy, you know what I think of him. Oh, wait, that's an idea… hang on a second." She moved to the fire, and called an address Narcissa didn't recognize. A dark face with startlingly orange eyes appeared in the green flames of the floo.

"Who the hell are you?" Bella asked, obviously startled.

The man did not look terribly offended. "Dominic Prieto."

"I'm looking for Isabella, Zabini or Charleston or Despereaux, whichever she's going by now."

As soon as Narcissa realized whom her sister had called, she felt her face flush to the roots of her hair. It was bad enough trying to talk to Bella about this, but Zee? She followed the older witch over to the floo, wondering if she should interrupt – just call the whole thing off. "Bella!" she hissed, but she was ignored.

"It's Zabini again. Whom may I say is calling?" the man asked.

"Bella Black. Tell her I'm calling in that favor she owes me."

"One moment."

His face disappeared. "Bella, no – you don't have to –" Narcissa began, but the appearance of her sister's oldest (only?) friend in the fire cut her off.

"Bella, darling! It's been ages! And is that little Cissy, too? Buongiorno, principessa!"

"Hello, Zee," Narcissa said dutifully, fighting her blush.

The Italian switched back to English and Bella after giving her an infectious grin. "Nicky says you're calling in a favor, Bee – What's up?"

"First off, why do you have a Lilin answering your floo?"

"He's only half-Lilin, and he's my sex slave. I captured him in Madrid while I was recuperating from Daniel's most untimely death," the seductress said, as though there was nothing unusual about this statement. Narcissa couldn't decide whether she was more appalled or impressed that Zee had managed to make the conversation so inappropriate in so many ways in less than thirty seconds. "Thanks for that, by the way."

Bella waved away her thanks. "Somehow I suspect there's more to that story."

Zee grinned. "Not really. He tried to take advantage of a distraught, helpless widow, so I invited him back to my place and caught him with one of the old bindings. Now he has to serve me until I get bored of him, or he manages to knock me up. He's having fun trying for the latter," she winked.

Bella laughed. "Well, you'll have to put off his next attempt for a few hours. I need you to come over and talk to Cissy for me."

"About what?"

"She's a virgin, and she's getting married in three weeks. You know better than I do how the whole normal, married-people sex thing works."

"Bella!" Narcissa buried her face in her hands, retreating to the sofa.

Zee was laughing hysterically. "Bee, are you seriously calling in a murder-favor over a sex talk?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it? Guess you'd better make it a hell of a good sex talk."

"We'll be over in five minutes – I need to find clothes." She disappeared, still laughing.

"Ta, Zee." Bella called, and closed the connection. She moved to a chair, looking very pleased with herself, and called an elf, demanding tea for four.

After several quiet minutes, during which time Bella acted as though asking her old school friend to educate her sister about married life and Narcissa resisted the impulse to object, the younger sister lost the battle: "Bella, why would you do this to me?!" she moaned.

"What?"

"Tell Zee, of all people, that I need advice on sex!"

"What's wrong with Zee?"

What wasn't wrong with Zee? "She's a nymphomaniac who kills off her husbands and is apparently shacking up with an incubus, and you want her to tell me how to be a good wife?!"

"Ah… no – I thought this was just about sex. Though I'm sure if you want, she'll tell you about being a good wife, too. Both of her husbands were perfectly satisfied with her before she killed them, you know – and she still does an excellent job of managing their lands and estates."

Narcissa took one look at her sister's entirely earnest expression and muttered under her breath, "I am surrounded by crazy people."

Apparently she wasn't quite quiet enough, because Bella smirked. "Hazard of being a Black, I'm afraid."

Bella Zabini and her demon lover stepped out of the fire before Narcissa could think of a response, giggling and flirting with each other and her sister (who held up her end surprisingly well – a side of her Cissy had never seen before). And then they swept down on her, greeting her with kisses to both cheeks and calling her passerotta and muñeca, and complimenting her on her hair and her eyes and how well she had grown up since the last time Zee had seen her (at the funeral of her first husband, almost four years prior). They congratulated her on her impending marriage, and gave her knowing looks that made heat pool between her legs, and then smirked at each other as though they knew exactly what they were doing, which made it worse.

Faced with the mortifying prospect of getting this particular talk from these particular people, Narcissa wondered whether it was possible to actually die of embarrassment. She should have stuck to books.