"My tastes are simple: I am easily satisfied with the best."
Narcissa almost snorted at that. Who did this man think he was; Lucius Malfoy? She'd had enough of that in her first marriage, thank you very much.
"That is certainly uncomplicated," she said with a polite smile, and the wizard winked at her. It was pathetic, how sure he was of his charm.
"Oh, is that the time?" she exclaimed, feigning surprise as she rose. "I do apologize – I have a pressing appointment…" she trailed off, but needn't have bothered. The man seemed to genuinely believe her. She let loose a vexed sigh only after she had swept out the door. Merlin keep her from shallow men with delusions of grandeur!
There had been many men courting her favor since her husband's death. Men from the Ministry, mostly, who were ambitious enough to pursue the "ice queen" in the hopes of gaining access to the Malfoy money and power.
Striding down Diagon Alley, Narcissa stifled another vexed sigh. Perhaps she should simply start turning them down out of hand; she was quite sick of being polite, and had no intentions of marrying again. She wouldn't be averse to some male companionship – one could hardly call it an affair when her husband was dead – but she'd always been attracted to intelligence, and couldn't bear the thought of some sycophant or Lucius wannabe in her bed. She'd been lucky to have her marriage arranged to Lucius Malfoy, really: he had been intelligent, capable, and handsome, but even snootier than she knew herself to be. She was sick of it. The posturing, the smooth lies, the better-than-thou opinion… Surely there was a sensible man out there?
Smoothing the frown off her face, Narcissa apparated home.
OoOoO
For the following month she remained at home, sending polite letters back to would-be suitors, turning down anyone who came calling, and generally simply spending time alone. It was such a relief to spend time alone on her own terms, instead of having to host tea parties, dinner parties, or even just spend meals with Lucius whenever he was home. Her house elf, Mimsy, was perfectly capable of purchasing groceries and cooking meals, and only once Narcissa realized the only company she'd had for a month was a house elf did she venture outside.
It was remarkable, how few friends one could have. There wasn't a single person who had lasted through both wars, the peace in between, and the time following the war. Oh, there were plenty who had come flocking to Malfoy Manor for parties and balls during peace, but that was purely political and Narcissa knew it. She didn't care for it anymore.
So she went to Diagon Alley alone, with no destination in mind but a need to be around other humans for a few stolen hours. Draco was doing his Charms apprenticeship and living with his master, as was right, otherwise she might have been able to spend some time with her son.
Wandering down Diagon Alley, she window shopped and picked up the occasional purchase – heaven knew she didn't need anything, but there was a certain pleasure in the simple act of purchasing something, and she wasn't exactly lacking funds.
In the apothecary she had an interesting encounter. She wouldn't have expected to run into a Weasley there, of all places, and even less to be spoken to by one.
"Mrs. Malfoy," he greeted her, bowing slightly. "You're looking well. My condolences for your loss."
She blinked once, but it was a comment she was used to by now, and her thanks were reflex. It was practically unheard of for a Weasley and a Malfoy to speak civilly – an enmity her late husband had been all too happy to keep alive.
"I never had the chance before, so I'd like to thank you now for saving Harry's life during the final battle," the man said, surprising her even further.
She couldn't hide her surprise at that. "Is that what he's been saying?"
The man frowned. "Of course. He said that without you, he would have died in that forest, and we all know that would have been the end of us all. We know that you took a huge risk, and we're very grateful."
Narcissa was lost for words. It was true that the members of the Order of the Phoenix had been surprisingly civil to her, after the war, even in a way that they weren't towards Lucius, but she hadn't realized that Potter gave her such a pivotal role in the battle. He knew as well as she that all she'd been after was the safety of her son, but the way this Weasley spoke, it sounded as though Potter spoke of her lie as a selfless action to bring down the Dark Lord. It was… surprisingly gratifying, if she was honest with herself.
"Oh, my apologies," the redhead interrupted her thoughts. "I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Charlie Weasley." He held out his hand, and when she placed her hand in his he surprised her again by shaking it instead of bending to kiss it. It was different, and she knew Lucius would have hated it – and for that alone, she decided to accept it as a perfectly respectful greeting. She felt the odd urge to put aside everything she'd had to be as Lucius's wife, and smiled as she shook Charlie Weasley's hand.
"Narcissa Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you."
OoOoO
She smiled at Charlie Weasley again when they ran into each other in Flourish & Blott's a week later, and raised her eyebrows when she saw him once again the following week.
"Have you given up your post in Romania?"
He laughed.
"I have a license for international apparition," he grinned at her. "I come here most days after work. The reserve doesn't have much to offer in terms of human companionship." And there was something inviting in his smile, something coaxing her to linger and try to figure out this honest, straight-forward man. She'd never had one in her life before, and it was refreshing.
"Oh!" he said suddenly, grinning so infectiously that she found herself smiling back. "I read a quote the other day that reminded me of you."
"Oh?" her lips twitched as she raised her eyebrows. "I don't suppose it was flattering, otherwise you wouldn't grin so."
He laughed at that. "I found it quite flattering, actually. The quote was: 'Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip'. You might not like the originator, though, since Winston Churchill was a non-magical."
He seemed to lose some of his pleasure with that thought, and Narcissa found herself strangely wanting to deny it. She briefly touched his arm. If anyone saw that gesture, the gossip would be unbearable, but she couldn't help herself.
"Well, I think it's a fabulous saying, and I'm quite pleased that it reminded you of me. As for the originator's origins… let me simply say that I am not above changing my opinions. I find myself remarkably… willing to let go of my previous convictions, now that my circumstances have changed." That was as close as she would get to declaring wanting a different life now that Lucius was gone, and the young man seemed to understand her perfectly, if his broad smile was anything to go by.
"Brilliant." His grin took on a different flavor, though Narcissa couldn't interpret the change. "But we really must stop leaving our meetings up to chance. Are you free for dinner sometime this week?"
She blinked. That was unexpected. The political ramifications darted briefly through her head before she shook them off and smiled. "Thursday." She was free all the time, these days, but there was no need to be quite so obvious about it.
"Perfect. I'll send you an owl once I have a reservation somewhere," he laughed. "How does 6 PM sound?"
"Perfect." How refreshing, that he didn't plan on picking her up at home. Her former 'friends' would have a fit if they knew. Her smile widened, and she turned, flicking her hair. "Till Thursday, then," she said over her shoulder, not caring who might hear.
OoOoO
It was a wonderful dinner.
Charlie was kind, intelligent, open, and with the most marvelous laugh Narcissa had had directed at her in years. She arrived back at the manor feeling quite lightheaded after the evening, and wondering whether he was interested romantically in her, or purely sexually. She assumed that he wasn't simply after her friendship – and, to be honest, rather hoped that he wasn't. He was so marvelously uncomplicated, and deliciously muscled. She'd always rather admired Lucius's physique, and it had never been a hardship to sleep with him, but Charlie left her entertaining rather… heated thoughts. She wasn't submissive by any stretch of the imagination, but the thought of those muscled arms clutching her tightly in the heat of the moment was delectable.
She sent him an owl the next day suggesting a time and place for the following week. She was done playing the passive role traditional wizarding society told her to play. Judging by his prompt and enthusiastic response, Charlie didn't mind in the least.
OoOoO
"Would you like a tour of the dragon sanctuary?" Charlie asked over their next dinner, and Narcissa blinked. She really had to stop being surprised at the straight-forward manner of this man.
"I would be delighted," she answered honestly. She was rather frightened of dragons, truth be told, but supposed that there must be safety measures in place to ensure the visitors' safety.
Charlie beamed. "Would tomorrow be too soon? There's something I think you might like," he said, leaning forward.
"Not at all. Where shall I meet you?"
"I'll pick you up, if that's alright – it'll save you quite some hassle, since it's not the easiest place to reach. I can side-along apparate you directly there."
Narcissa nodded. "What time shall I expect you? I can open the Floo for you around the time; that should be simplest. 'Malfoy Manor' will take you to the right place."
"How about 9 AM?" When she nodded, he asked, "Do you live alone in the manor?"
She tipped her head slightly, wondering whether he was thinking, as she was, that there would be no need for silencing or privacy charms in that case. "Yes, apart from Mimsy. My house elf."
He hummed. "And your son?"
"Living with Master Zauber as he pursues his Charms mastery."
"Ah, I see." He hesitated. "Isn't it lonely? It must be a large house for one person."
"I'm used to it," she shrugged lightly, aware that she hadn't quite answered the question. He seemed to understand regardless.
"What about when your husband was around?"
Narcissa couldn't stifle a quiet snort, averting her gaze. "It was an arranged marriage. There was never much affection between us. He spent his days in the Ministry or his study – or elsewhere," her expression tightened, remembering Death Eater meetings and other Dark activities. "I spent my days entertaining, raising Draco, minding the house… Once Draco left for school, I had much time for myself. And entertaining guests is not companionship. I have no more patience left for my so-called 'friends'."
She fell silent, staring off to the side. It was some time before a hand touched hers, and she looked up in surprise.
"Have you considered letting someone new into your life?"
His expression was careful, and there was no misinterpreting the depth of his gaze.
Narcissa looked at him for several moments, searching for the right words.
"I was courted by many men following the death of my husband," she said finally, "and I couldn't stand a single one. I am fed up with the shallow politics my late husband adored so, and I cannot continue living a meaningless life." She took a breath. "Yes, I would be happy for companionship – but I will no longer settle for something superficial. I do not mean that I expect a proper courtship, and a second marriage. I am simply not willing to settle for less than sincerity, respect, and passion." She held his gaze squarely, and watched a smile dawn on his face.
"I think I can do that."
She relaxed. "Yes, I think so too."
OoOoO
She'd asked him what he was looking for in a woman, of course, and was glad to hear him mirroring her sentiments. It was gratifying that he added intelligence to his list, since she knew there were plenty who thought her vapid, and a thrill went through her when he kissed her hand at the end of the evening. Part of her wanted him to be far more forward and accompany her home, while the other part of her loved the deliberate respect with which he approached a relationship with her. She was increasingly sure that he was after more than just a warm body in his bed. He probably got enough offers, with his rugged good looks, to not need to go after a woman old enough to be his mother.
Speaking of his mother… that was likely to be interesting if they did begin a serious relationship. Narcissa knew that the Weasleys were a close-knit family, and Charlie obviously loved his mother – though she thought him sure enough of himself to stand up to Molly Weasley if he had a different opinion from her. Besides, if Harry Potter really did commend her in such glowing terms, even Molly Weasley was unlikely to have much to object with her son's choice.
Narcissa shrugged to herself. Que será, será. Time would tell.
OoOoO
The next day at exactly 9 AM, Charlie Weasley flooed into Malfoy Manor. No doubt a historic moment – particularly since Narcissa took one look at him and wanted to kiss him senseless. The man was dressed in dragon hide from neck to toe, and it was sinful.
Charlie greeted her brightly, then hesitated. "Is everything alright?"
Narcissa wondered what her facial expression was, and hid her face for a moment. "Yes." She cleared her throat, meeting his eyes again. "Yes, everything is perfectly fine." He looked a bit worried, and she breathed deeply, feeling her face flush at the smell of dragon hide mixing with the normal smells she'd come to associate with Charlie Weasley. "You look very handsome."
He blushed, but grinned. "I'll have to remember that you like my work uniform." Extending a crooked arm to her, he asked, "Ready to go?"
She linked her arm through his, and off they went.
The reception they received upon arrival was unexpected – it seemed that most of Charlie's colleagues had gathered to see whom he wanted to give a private tour to, and the man had to live with some good-natured ribbing from his colleagues. Apparently he'd never brought a lady friend to the sanctuary before, and Narcissa was surprised and pleased that none of his colleagues seemed to recognize her, either by appearance or by name. It seemed the Malfoy name wasn't as well-known outside Britain as Lucius would have claimed.
His colleagues all wore the same dragon hide uniform as he did, and Narcissa admired their physiques. The women looked just as attractive in the outfits as the men, and obviously had the muscles to go with the job. She was almost tempted to take up work here if it meant that kind of build.
The woman she'd been eyeing winked at her, and Narcissa realized she'd been staring. Knowing she was blushing again, she apologized, and one of the male colleagues started teasing Charlie that Amia would steal his woman from him if he wasn't careful. Amia simply grinned, and Charlie huffed at them all, grabbed Narcissa's hand and walked away.
Once they'd gotten a short ways away, he cast a worried look at her. "You weren't-"
"I was wondering whether to work here," Narcissa interrupted him, looking around casually. "Your female colleagues have beautiful physiques."
"Oh!" Charlie fell silent, still walking hand in hand with her. "Well. I don't know whether you want to go through the years of training necessary to work here, but I can show you some exercises, if you'd like?"
She smiled at him. "That would be lovely." No need for him to fear on that account, after all. "What was it you wanted to show me?"
As easily as that, Charlie laid his worries aside and gave her a smile. "We have a nesting mother here – a Shortsnout – and the specialists say that her eggs are likely to hatch today. I didn't think you'd have had the chance to watch a hatching before." His voice held a question, and Narcissa reacted appropriately.
"No, I have never had the privilege." A smile lit up her face. "How exciting! How many eggs are there?"
"Six," Charlie answered proudly. "We'll tour some other parts of the sanctuary first – hatchings tend to happen when it's warmer, sometime after noon. Sound good?"
"Very," she squeezed his hand.
OoOoO
It was a first for Narcissa, to stroll around holding a man's hand. Lucius had never been one for informality, so if they'd had physical contact outside the house it was only in the form of linked arms, and she'd been engaged to Lucius at such a young age that she'd never dated anyone else. Charlie even revealed that he'd packed them lunch, and they ate in the shade of a tree not far from the Shortsnout clutch, waiting to see the hatching. It was new, too, for Narcissa to sit on the ground – she hadn't done so since her days at Hogwarts. She found she liked the novelty.
Suddenly Charlie straightened. "Look – I think something's happening."
Narcissa craned her neck, watching avidly as the mother dragon moved away from the eggs, extending her neck down to watch her eggs closely. She nudged one, rocking it gently, then another one. A third egg rocked on its own, and Narcissa held her breath. It rocked again, more strongly, and fell on its side, knocking over a different egg. Abruptly Narcissa got to her feet, needing to see better what was happening, and as more of the eggs started wobbling erratically Charlie's arm came around her.
"They're trying to break through the shell," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm, and a slight shiver went through her. "Watch – the one on the left seems to be getting more confident."
He was right: out of all the eggs, the leftmost one was rocking the most violently, jerking around on the grass. Suddenly a large crack appeared, and Narcissa gasped when a snout poked its way through the shell.
"Yes! Almost there!" Charlie cheered the hatchling on in a whisper, and it worked on its shell, more and more cracks appearing, until with a shrill cry the dragon fractured the shell into many pieces, standing free of it with its wings extended.
"Yes!" both spectators cheered, thrilled at the triumphant emergence of the first hatchling.
It cawed and wobbled its way over to its mother, who touched its snout to its firstborn, crooning at it. One after another the other dragons forced their way out of their shells – only one egg stayed still throughout.
"There's almost always one," Charlie told her quietly. "Six eggs was a great lay, and that five hatched is fantastic. Shortsnouts only lay eggs every ten years, give or take three years."
Narcissa beamed at him, acutely aware of how close his face was to hers. "That was amazing!"
He squeezed her shoulders, his eyes warm. "It really is, every time. It's magical."
"Yes, absolutely." She turned towards him, snaking one arm back around his waist and placing the other hand on his chest. "Thank you for bringing me to see this." She felt happiness throughout her body and laughed with the joy of it. "I think you're really quite wonderful."
That said, she tilted her head and kissed him, and Charlie Weasley kissed her back.
A/N: Oh, have I had this story idea on my list for a long time! I'm so glad to have written it. I do have another snippet to post, and have to decide first whether to write anything between this point and the other snippet. Anything you'd like to see?
A lot has changed in the past few years, so it's been forever since I posted something. It feels great to do so now, and I do hope I'll get around to more soon. My list of ideas is nearly 20.000 words long! Plenty of fodder there. I hope you've all been well, and look out for yourselves. Thanks for reading!