Thank you to raven-maiden for beta'ing and thank you to YOU for waiting. I'm working on some original fiction projects during 2021, so if you'd like to keep updated on any of that, you can follow me on Twitter at JulieWrites8 and Tumblr at LovesBitca8.
She'd been alone for hours when the door creaked. Light footsteps tapped across the wood, and the mattress dipped.
"Don't cry, Narcissa."
Narcissa buried her face into Bella's pillow and sobbed, inhaling her sister's scent. Andromeda sighed and began running a hand through her hair, just like their mother did.
"It's not fair." She sniffled. "Why can't she be schooled at home? The Fawleys are tutored at home."
"Mariah Fawley is ill, you know that—"
"They shouldn't have let her go!" Narcissa jerked upright and clutched her sister's sleeve. "She'll be so alone!"
"I'm sure she's making plenty of friends," Andromeda said, looking down at her hands. "She promised she'd write once the Sorting was over."
"She won't." Narcissa's voice wobbled. "She didn't even say goodbye to me this morning."
"She was just excited. We'll join her soon enough. I'll get my letter in two years, and you'll get yours—"
"In four! Four years I have to wait!" She swiped at her eyes, feeling her heart shatter all over again. "You're going to leave me, too. I'll be all alone here—"
Andromeda shushed her as she wept, wiping her tears away with a handkerchief. "It's not so bad. Being alone." She smiled softly when Narcissa finally met her eyes. "And you'll have mother and father all to yourself for two whole years."
Narcissa nodded, and when Andromeda scooted closer, she let her head drop to her shoulder. She reached out to tangle her fingers in the long chain that hung around Andromeda's neck — a thick jade pendant their grandmother had given her.
"I don't ever want to be alone," Narcissa whispered.
"You won't be." Andromeda clutched her fingers. "You'll always have me."
The train to London had seemed to take lifetimes. By the time it rolled into King's Cross, Narcissa had managed to bury thoughts of one sister, focusing only on the other. But Bella hadn't been there when she'd gotten off the train.
Narcissa had moved quickly through the crowds, careful to avoid any blond heads as she darted for her mother and father. Her parents had kissed her cheeks and inquired about her O.W.L.s. But neither had mentioned Bella, leaving Narcissa with no idea of what was keeping her sister so busy that she couldn't bother to greet her or answer any of her letters.
Bella wasn't at dinner that night, either. A slow, sinking feeling in Narcissa's gut told her that Bella knew — that Lucius had told her they'd kissed. But as she stared at the two vacant chairs across from her, her father cleared his throat and excused Bella's absence. She was at Grimmauld Place, he explained, where Aunt Walburga held gatherings once a week. Bella hadn't missed a single one in months.
Narcissa tried not to feel put out as she retired for the evening, wondering who at Aunt Walburga's was more important than her. But then she wondered if Lucius was there, and her mind drifted to the way his lips had slanted over hers, and the strength of his arm around her back.
When she finally burrowed under the covers that night, it occurred to her that it might be better that Bella wasn't home yet. Her head was still turned around, and she needed time to put this stupid infatuation to rest.
She spent the next two days burying herself in books, letters, and time with her parents. It wasn't until Sunday morning that she woke to a voice screeching, "What in Merlin's name are you doing in here?"
Narcissa bolted upright, trying to get her bearings. It took her a moment to remember she'd slept in Andromeda's bed the past two nights, staring at the ceiling and wondering where she was. But now Bella was standing in the doorway, her brows arched and her hands on her hips.
Narcissa's breath hitched, and she threw back the covers and ran to her. Bella caught her in a hug, and Narcissa squeezed her tightly, murmuring, "I missed you," into her shoulder.
"I'm sorry I wasn't home. And I know I've been terrible about writing, too— but oh, Narcissa!" Bella grabbed her arms. "I have so much to tell you. You must come with me to Walburga's next week. There's so many people I want to introduce you to."
Narcissa's heart lifted. "Really? Like who?"
Bella shut the door, and her cheeks were flushed when she spun around. "There's a man, Narcissa. He joins our parties and says the most brilliant things about our rights as witches and wizards. How they've been stolen from us, and how we can take them back."
Something in the words sent shivers down Narcissa's spine. "Oh. I think I've heard some whispers at Hogwarts about that—"
Bella scoffed. "Child's play. All talk and no action, like Father and his friends. He is different." Her gaze burned with a fierceness Narcissa hadn't seen in some time. "You have to hear him, Cissy. He has ideas on how to put Muggles in their proper place. How to retake what is ours by right, and by blood."
A coldness prickled through Narcissa's skin. Shaking her head, she forced a smile. "Careful, Bella. I'm sure this man is wonderful, but don't forget that you're engaged."
Bella's face hardened, and she stared at Narcissa like she was sap stuck to her shoe.
"Not everything is about matches and weddings, Cissy," she hissed, and Narcissa felt it slash across her. "I'm a pure-blood, a Black, and a woman, in that order. When I'm a wife, it will be the last item on the list."
"Bella—"
"You see, he understands my potential." She stepped into her, and Narcissa nearly shrank back. "Marriage and procreation are necessary evils, not something to simper over like our mother and her silly friends."
"I'm sorry." Narcissa's face burned with shock, and shame. "I didn't mean to insult you. I'm sure you know more about these things than I do. I was confused."
There was a tense silence. Then Bella sighed, her features relaxing. "It's alright. You don't know any better. But speaking of weddings"— her nose wrinkled—"I need you today."
The air rushed from Narcissa's lungs. "What for?"
"We've been invited to Malfoy Manor this morning. Didn't Mother tell you?"
"I—I have things to do actually. I really can't—"
"Come off it, Cissy. If I have to go, so do you."
"Why?" Narcissa's anger surged before she could bite her tongue. "It's your wedding, not mine. If you hate all this planning and preening then I fail to see how I could make it more tolerable."
Bella lifted a cool brow at her, and Narcissa faltered.
"I'm sorry." She smoothed her nightgown. "I just think you should spend more time alone with Lucius if you're to be married. He might surprise you."
Snorting, Bella turned toward Andromeda's mirror and wound a curl around her finger. "I doubt it. I suppose he's clever enough, but the Malfoys lack vision and conviction. I don't know if time will make him more interesting to me."
He's remarkably interesting, Narcissa thought. Her anger began thrumming again, and she was grateful Bella was too busy with her reflection to dip into her with sharp claws.
"This isn't the first time I've heard you dismiss him, Bella. I know you're not eager to get married, but you don't have to choose someone who you think has little chance of ever making you happy." She took a slow breath. "Mother mentioned you've been spending an awful lot of time at the Lestrange's—"
Bella laughed, and with a final jerk of a curl, she prowled to her. "You don't understand at all, do you? Whether it's Lucius or Rodolphus or Evan Rosier makes no difference to me." Her gaze was cold and disapproving. "I have my eye on much bigger things, Cissy. You'll see."
Narcissa blinked at her, trying to wrap her mind around it. Marriage, raising children, growing old together — all without affection. She opened her mouth to ask what "bigger things" she meant, but Bella was already striding to the door.
"We leave for Malfoy Manor in an hour."
"Bella, wait."
Her sister stopped in the doorway.
"Did Andromeda say anything to you? About running away?"
The room was silent, and still. And then—
"Never speak that name to me again." Bella's voice was pure poison. Narcissa flinched from the rage in it.
Abruptly, her face cooled again. "I'm going to speak to Mother and Father about having this room remodeled. It quite disgusts me, knowing the filth that used to live here." She turned to leave. "One hour, Cissy."
The door clicked, and Narcissa's heart crumbled to dust. She waited until Bella's footsteps faded before she let herself sink on the bed, her vision blurring.
Being in her childhood home was like living with a ghost no one would acknowledge.
Her parents hadn't said a word about Andromeda since she'd returned. And on her first night, she'd felt her mother float through her mind at dinner, whispering a reprimand into her consciousness every time her thoughts strayed to her sister.
Two weeks ago, when Narcissa had joined her father and mother in the Headmaster's office for a meeting with Dumbledore and the Slytherin Head of House, they'd offered her father Andromeda's trunk of possessions. He'd told them to burn it. But Narcissa had stayed, ignoring the pity in Dumbledore's eyes when she asked if she could take a look.
She'd found nothing of importance except for the jade necklace her sister had never taken off. She'd put it on that day, slipping it under her blouse to rest over her heart.
Narcissa sat on the bed for a few minutes longer, trying to reconcile the memory of her sister with this empty room. It was only a shell of her — a hollow reminder, like the ache in her chest.
She supposed she could part with that shell, if she had to. After all, Andromeda had chosen to leave her. She still had one sister left.
Narcissa's fingers drifted beneath her nightgown, where the jade necklace lay against her collarbone. She unclasped it and dropped it in her lap, staring at it for a few moments before balling it into a fist. She returned to her own room to prepare for their visit, trying to ignore the flutter of dread and anticipation in her stomach.
An hour later, the four of them were Apparating to the hill. Her mother was dressed as elegantly as ever, but her face was ashen. She hadn't left the house for two weeks. Bella was ignoring her, and Narcissa tried not to focus only how badly it stung when she wouldn't meet her gaze.
The Manor was just as imposing as the last time she'd visited. The windows on the top floor all seemed to bore into her like eyes, judging her. Their walk down the gravel drive was much more somber this time, with Andromeda's absence and their mother's grief hovering over them like a dark cloud.
Abraxas met them in the entry hall, and Narcissa caught sight of Lucius's mother for the first time — a thin, stern-faced woman who was pale and bony. She looked supremely displeased to be entertaining guests.
Narcissa kept her hands folded in front of her, her eyes concentrated on the floor, until — like a Summoning Charm — her gaze lifted to the marble staircase, where Lucius was rushing down to join them.
"Apologies," he said with a smile.
Her stomach flipped over, her sadness a distant memory as she took him in. His hair was wet from his bath, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
She had to press her eyes closed as memories shot up — his groan against her mouth, the soft press of his lips that made her desperate, squirming. The rough pads of his fingers on her jaw as he held her like crystal.
"Lucy. Good to see you."
Her sister's voice jarred her into her body. She refocused, watching as Lucius shook hands with her father, kissed her mother's knuckles, and pressed another kiss to Bella's cheek.
Narcissa swallowed, her throat dry as sand, and just as she lifted her hand in greeting, Lucius turned his eyes on her, stepped in close, and brushed his lips over her cheek. A soft sweep of his mouth, just a hair's breadth from her lips. His hand rose to her waist, just inches lower than etiquette allowed. His scent was warm and spicy, and his breath was crisp as he whispered, "Cissa," before pulling away.
It was over in less than a second. And without even a glance back at her, he turned to her father, leaving her wondering if she'd imagined it.
But her skin was on fire. Her cheek burned, and her waist tingled from the soft press of his fingertips.
She licked her lips and lowered her eyes.
"Cygnus," Lucius was saying. "My parents and I are so very sorry to hear about Andromeda."
A silence fell over the entry hall. Her mother seemed unsteady on her feet.
"Very kind of you, Lucius"—her father nodded to him—"and we thank you for your earlier condolences. But we hope this visit can be free of such matters. We're eager to put the incident behind us, as I'm sure you understand."
"We do," said Abraxas, with a curt nod. "Shall we take tea?" The group murmured its assent, and Lucius's mother stepped forward. "I think my wife would prefer to take her tea with you in private, Druella. I believe she wanted to discuss the guest list."
"Of course," said her mother, with a thin smile.
Narcissa tried to follow her mother, but Bella tugged her back, tucking their arms together. And Narcissa almost felt giddy that she was acknowledging her again.
They followed Abraxas to the drawing room, and Narcissa was quick to claim a seat next to her sister on the couch. Abraxas, Cygnus, and Lucius took armchairs.
The tea service was brought out, and Narcissa looked for Mippy, finding her by the drink cart. The girl elf gave her a toothy smile before disappearing.
"How were your O.W.L.s, Narcissa?"
She spun back. Grey eyes were locked on her over the rim of a teacup. A pale brow lifted.
"Fine, thank you, Lucius." She flicked her fingertips and her spoon set to stirring. "Exceeds Expectations in several subjects. And your N.E.W.T.s?"
"I also exceeded expectations." His eyes lowered to her lips before flicking away.
Her palms felt clammy, and she shifted to watch Abraxas settle his teacup.
"Lucius," he said. "I fear your fiancée and her sister will be bored to tears if they listen to us drone on about business. Would you care to escort them to the sitting room in the east wing?"
Lucius moved to stand, but Bella interrupted.
"No, thank you."
Her father's head snapped to her. Bella ignored it.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay."
Lucius stilled; Narcissa stopped breathing. Bella simply picked a piece of lint off her dress.
"I'm old enough to hear whatever 'business' must be worked out. So is Cissy. She'll be engaged in another year or two, at most. Just look at her."
"Bellatrix." Her father's eyes flashed.
"It's quite alright, Cygnus," said Abraxas smoothly. "She is welcome to stay."
There was a long silence before he spoke again. "Thank you for joining us today, Cygnus. August is arriving sooner than I expected, and given recent circumstances, I thought it best for us to talk over the upcoming nuptials."
"Of course," said her father stiffly. "What did you wish to discuss?"
Abraxas Malfoy crossed one leg over the other, and leveled his eyes at her father. "It seems too soon — after Andromeda."
Narcissa's heartbeat ticked in her ears. Lucius's face was impassive, watching her father.
"I'm not quite sure I follow."
"Lucius thought — and I agree — that the timing of this… is less than favorable."
"What's not favorable about it?" Her father's words were clipped.
"The Black family just suffered a terrible blow. This will follow you, Cygnus. No burning off the family tree will change that." Abraxas inclined his head, as if waiting for her father to argue. He didn't. "I'd like to make sure this union isn't tainted."
"How so?" Bella snapped. "We abhor her actions—" Their father raised a finger to silence her.
"It may look, Bella," Abraxas said softly, "as if the Malfoys were marrying into a family of blood-traitors. Now I know that's not true. Lucius knows that's not true. But all the same." He sipped his tea. "People talk."
Narcissa watched her sister draw air through her nostrils. She glanced at her father, fearing his reaction.
"What do you suggest?" he said, a hard press to his mouth.
Abraxas leaned back in his chair. "I'd like to propose delaying the wedding. By a year."
Bella jiggled her leg, and Narcissa could feel the irritation rising off her. She knew her sister was in no rush to be a wife, but the one thing she seemed to detest more than marriage was wedding planning. A delay would only draw it out.
Their father cleared his throat. "I think that is reasonable. We have quite a stain to remove."
"I'm glad we are in agreement." Abraxas straightened. "Now, Lucius believes time is all that is necessary to remedy this situation. Personally, I believe more action would be prudent."
Panic spiked in Narcissa's blood. Just how much were they at the mercy of the Malfoy family?
She looked to her father, and found his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed.
"We're aware of the gatherings at the Black residence in London," said Abraxas. "Lucius has attended once or twice, and I understand Bellatrix is regularly in attendance."
Bella's breath left her in a hiss.
"Now, I'm not implying that either of us agree with everything being discussed in those circles, Cygnus. But it wouldn't hurt to make yourself known there. One might consider it a fitting reaction to this unfortunate incident."
A muscle in her father's cheek ticked. "I can see the merits, yes."
Lucius shifted in his armchair.
"I'm happy to attend," her father continued. "But I warn you that my wife has no interest. Narcissa, of course, is too young."
Abraxas waved his hand. "Your attendance alone would affirm your commitment to your family's values. There's also the matter of Bellatrix, who has been attending unchaperoned."
Bella gasped. "I beg your—"
"I'd be careful of what you're implying, Abraxas," her father said. His nostrils flared. "Walburga is my sister."
"Even so. It's improper, given how many visitors are in attendance." Abraxas set his teacup down with a clink, brooding no room for argument. He clasped his hands before placing both on his knees. "So. Shall we discuss new dates?"
Narcissa seemed to float out of her body as the men talked and Bella fumed. Her family's future was at risk. The engagement would be extended, and her suffering drawn out for another year.
It was almost too much to bear.
Mrs. Malfoy and her mother joined them after a time, and neither blinked when Abraxas informed them of the new wedding date. Bella looked furious at her mother's lack of reaction, but Abraxas simply stood and offered them a tour of the gardens.
Narcissa followed at a distance. She didn't miss Bella's sneer when she took Lucius's offered arm. Or how quickly she stopped to fuss with her shoe, dropping his arm at the earliest opportunity.
They wove through the grounds as Abraxas delivered an unending supply of history. As he stopped to show them the tree that had survived some battle in 1643, Narcissa turned to gaze at the pond and the gazebo. The white peacocks were bathing on the shore, and the sun gleamed over the grass.
It wasn't until she felt a shadow appear at her side that she realized she was alone with him. Her eyes flickered to the rest of the party as they followed Abraxas around a hedge.
"We should join them," she said.
"Hm. We should."
He made no move to do so.
Narcissa felt each pump of blood through her veins. She refused to look up at him, focusing on the treetops above the gazebo instead.
"What a terribly clever way to postpone your nuptials, Lucius." She struggled for composure, but the words were clawing to get out. "Using my family's tragedy in such a way is nothing short of diabolical—"
"I don't know what you mean, Miss Black. I was simply suggesting an idea to keep every party satisfied."
Narcissa huffed, watching her father and sister's heads bob next to Abraxas's over the hedges. The moment they disappeared from view, Lucius's fingers brushed against hers.
Yanking her hand away, she stepped to the other side of the old tree. She could breathe easier when his scent wasn't suffocating her.
"You said that Andromeda's choices wouldn't affect your intention to marry Bella."
"I promised I would never abandon you. There's a difference."
"Enough." She curled her hands into fists. "You're purposefully twisting the conversation to suit your agenda—"
"Perhaps you can't correctly recall anything that happened before you kissed me"—Narcissa gasped and spun to him—"which, of course, I understand—"
"Don't ever speak of that again—"
"I can't stop thinking about your mouth." His eyes were hot on hers, even from the small distance she'd created between them.
Blinking, Narcissa stumbled to peer at the hedges.
"Or your fingers on my collar."
She whipped around, and found his gaze molten on her.
"Lucius."
"Or the sounds you make when—"
She stormed over and shoved him, his back falling against the tree trunk. "What is wrong with you?"
"Do you?" he asked, perfectly calm. "Think about it?"
"No!" Narcissa shook her head, chest heaving. "Not at all. I've quite forgotten it."
"Hm." He tilted his head and regarded her shrewdly. She was lost in the grey when he stepped forward, bringing their bodies close in a slow movement. "I can remind you."
Her lips parted on a silent gasp, and his eyes dropped to them without hesitation.
"It can't happen again," she managed. "I told you."
Gently, his hand lifted her jaw, as if she were the most delicate thing he'd ever held. She felt faint with longing for him, every inch of her body sighing from his touch, his scent.
"Cissa." His whisper was like oil across her skin.
Her eyes were closing, her heart fluttering like a bird's wings against its cage.
The sound of voices. Her name called.
Lucius stepped away swiftly as she drew a shuddering breath and shouted, "I'm here!"
Pasting on a bright smile, Narcissa rejoined the party without a backwards glance.
When they said their goodbyes, his lips passed over her cheek again. She stared daggers at him, but the desire coiling in her simply rattled its tail.
Narcissa followed the guard down the long corridor. The starched grey robes scratched her skin, and she ached for a soak in her bath.
Just a little while longer.
He led her into a small waiting room with fireplaces for arrivals and departures. "Here," he said gruffly, pointing at the far counter, and left without another word.
With careful steps, Narcissa approached the Azkaban officer shuffling through paperwork behind the grate. "Name," he demanded.
"Narcissa Malfoy."
He glanced up, his eyes running over her as his lip curled, like she was covered in mud. He grabbed for a file and stamped it twice. "Need your signature here."
She took the quill and signed in crisp movements. He slid a bag of her clothes to her — the ones she'd worn on the day of their arrest, gloves and all — and passed over a small pouch. She eyed it warily before accepting.
It wasn't until she opened it that she remembered the jewelry that had been taken from her on the day of their arrest. Her earrings and Andromeda's necklace fell into her palm, followed by the Malfoy diamond. Her breath grew shallow as she stared down at it, watching it glitter in the low light.
"That thing gave us some trouble when you checked in," the officer said. "I'm sure you heard."
She cleared her throat. "Yes. I tried to tell the officer to be careful with it. It's cursed."
"Well, you weren't clear enough. He was in St. Mungo's for three weeks, you know." His eyes tightened as he glared at her, like she'd personally cursed him.
Narcissa inclined her head demurely. "I would like to write to him and apologize, if at all possible."
The officer assessed her for a moment before grumbling and jotting down a name. She thanked him when he slid the scrap of parchment over. He passed over her wand next, along with a practiced speech about the conditions of her probation, and when she could expect a Floo call from the D.M.L.E.
"I hope to visit my son as soon as possible. Can I file that request here?"
The guard scowled at her. "I'll have it owled to you."
She pressed her lips into a smile and thanked him, focusing on the cypress humming between her fingertips. Another guard showed her to the Floo, and she squared her shoulders as she stepped through, calling out for Malfoy Manor.
The hiss of the dying fireplace echoed through the entry hall. The Ministry had required her to sign paperwork releasing them of liability for the Manor's condition — for damages caused during search and seizure, and general disrepair.
The smoke lifted, and Narcissa steeled herself. She turned in a circle, wincing in anticipation of seeing damage to centuries old wallpaper, stolen paintings, cracked marble—
But everything was just as she'd left it. Narcissa gaped up at the chandelier, finding the crystals sparkling clean. She ran a finger over the fireplace mantle. Not a speck of dust to be found.
Narcissa moved toward the staircase, gripping her wand. The Wizengamot had ordered the release of all their elves, but the estate looked as though no one had ever left.
"Mistress!"
Narcissa jolted, spinning to find wide and teary green eyes on her. "Mippy?"
"Mistress is home!"
Mippy flung herself at her. Narcissa's bags dropped at the impact, her legs nearly buckling as the elf clutched at her, weeping into her robes. Her chest panged with something long-forgotten, and she hugged Mippy tightly before gently extricating herself.
She knelt down. "Mippy, what are you doing here?"
The elf sniffed. "Mippy never left. They come for Remmy and Plumb and Hix, but Mippy hid. Mippy didn't want to go."
Narcissa sighed, her shoulders sagging. "You can't stay, dear. The Ministry won't allow the Malfoys to keep indentured servants any longer." She reached for her dropped bag, picking up the clothes that had fallen. "I've missed you terribly, but I can't say I disagree with the decision."
Looking up, she found Mippy staring at the glove she held, ready to drop it back into the bag. She pointed a waxy finger at it.
"Mippy doesn't have to be a servant. Mippy can be a friend."
A warmth filled Narcissa's heart, and she found herself smiling in a way she hadn't since before the dank cell of Azkaban. She extended the glove to her, and almost chuckled as she watched Mippy's eyes grow wide. The elf snatched it and put it on, reaching her arm out like one might admire a ring.
Her gaze snapped up to her. "Dinner? Mippy can make soup!"
She disappeared with a crack! Narcissa brushed her lashes, grabbed her belongings, and made her way upstairs.
She opened the door to her bedroom slowly, half-expecting to see Lucius at his writing desk with a loose smile. After changing out of her Azkaban uniform, she threw it into the fire and watched it burn. Lucius's side of the closet smelled like him still, and she fought the urge to bury her face in his clothing. She changed into her own familiar robes before returning to her vanity.
Carefully, she replaced the earrings. She laid Andromeda's necklace out, fiddling with the chain.
Her diamond ring lay on the polished wood, glittering and expectant. Narcissa softly placed it into an ornate ring box.
She didn't need a reminder on her finger that she was alone. She'd chosen her husband, but he'd chosen power.
She would have to get used to being Lady Malfoy by herself.
Snapping the box closed, Narcissa turned and headed downstairs to help Mippy in the kitchens.
My dearest, Narcissa,
I believe your first Hogsmeade trip of the school year is this weekend. I will be doing some business there and would love the opportunity to see my soon-to-be-sister.
Perhaps I could take you to lunch at Puddifoot's to celebrate your birthday.
Yours,
Lucius Malfoy
Narcissa's vision swam as she stared down at the letter, her pulse in her fingertips. She had to yank it close to her chest when Siobhan tried to look over her shoulder.
Lunch with Lucius. Alone.
She swallowed and quickly reached for her pumpkin juice.
She hadn't seen him since the day in the Manor, when he'd tried to kiss her again. Warmth curled in her belly at the memory.
Closing her eyes, she crumpled the letter beneath the table.
It was too dangerous.
She would have to stay home from Hogsmeade. That was the only answer.
It was fine, really. Bella still wasn't answering her letters. The whispers that had used to follow her in the corridors had faded, but had been replaced by whispers about politics, and war. Every night in the Slytherin Common Room, students murmured about disappearances, and a man called 'The Dark Lord.' Narcissa cared for none of it.
She was getting more practice at being alone.
Her fingers pressed between her breasts, where a jade necklace rested against her skin.
"The chairs will be set up on the shore there." Monique, the witch overseeing the wedding preparations, pointed with a practiced smile. "And the couple will be in the gazebo with the officiant."
Narcissa stood on the sloping shore with her mother, watching a peacock unfurl his plumes. She'd refused to make eye contact with Lucius all afternoon. But as Monique began to paint a picture — Bella in a white gown she hated, Lucius in smart grey robes as they exchanged rings — Narcissa's stomach started to churn.
The ceremony was in a month. She'd been introduced to several pure-blood boys over the past year. But none of them made her pulse skip, or head dizzy. None of them could hold their own across a chessboard, besting her while losing the match.
She memorized Lucius in the rare moments he wasn't looking in her direction. He was more handsome than she'd ever seen him — not even the slump of his usually proud shoulders or the distant look in his eyes could convince her otherwise. He was taller, if possible. His chest wider, his arms stronger.
"And then the Maid of Honor…"
Narcissa turned her lips in a smile and followed Monique to her position on the gazebo stairs — behind her sister, facing Lucius. She trained her gaze over his shoulder, ignoring the somber way he tried to meet her eye.
Bella sighed heavily. "When will this be over? Lucius and I are expected at the Lestrange estate this evening."
Narcissa played with the bracelet around her wrist. In the past year, gatherings at Walburga's had turned into dinner parties at the Avery estate, and now the Lestrange house. She'd barely seen Bella that summer, spending most of the time at Siobhan's. Anything to escape Bella's persistent invitations to these "gatherings." And Lucius.
She knew little about his activities over the past year. By choice. She'd ignored every letter, skipped every Hogsmeade trip, and avoided every Quidditch match. It had been necessary, but she still felt like she'd been living half a life this year.
And from the look of him, so had he. His skin was dull, and his eyes not nearly as bright. He turned on a charming grin every time Monique addressed him, but the moment she turned away, his lips would flatten, and his eyes would seek Narcissa out.
"And as you descend from the gazebo — Lucius? Lucius, dear, please take your bride's hand — we'll walk this way across the lawn…"
Bella arched a heavy brow at Lucius's offered hand, but accepted it without complaint. Narcissa watched them move over the grass as Monique narrated the order of procession to both sets of parents. She had to turn away from the sight of Bella looping her arm through Lucius's elbow. The group followed Monique to the ballroom to go over the reception, and Narcissa stepped up into the gazebo, turning her eyes on the pond.
She tried to focus on what her visits to the Manor would be like in the future. How she could bear the family dinners, or dinner parties on the grounds. If Andromeda were here, at least she could—
Narcissa blinked, stopping the thought. Her stomach sank as she rested a hand on the bannister, drinking in the pond and the peacocks at the shore. She hoped it wouldn't be the last time she'd be able to appreciate the beauty of these grounds.
A step behind her on the gazebo stairs, and she spun to see Lucius staring at her, rotating a ring around his finger.
Her body trembled from being so near him again. Her palms felt sweaty, and her skin too tight.
She lifted her chin with a confidence she didn't have. "Do they need me?"
"We're quite done, actually. Bella excused herself to attend the Lestrange gathering."
Narcissa hummed, squeezing the bannister. "And you aren't going to accompany her?"
Lucius took the last stair up, arriving on the platform and watching her with a haunted gaze. "You never answered my letters."
"There was no point." She took a slow breath. "You are marrying into my family. There is no reason for us to correspond or meet in private—"
"No reason, no." He laughed lightly. "Reason has nothing to do with it."
She had no reply to that.
He turned his eyes toward the sun, watching as it lowered to the treetops. Narcissa tore her eyes away from the way it lit up his hair, like an angel's crown. Her hands were shaking, and she quickly smoothed out her dress.
"I should find my parents so we can be off."
She crossed to the stairs, the only exit behind him, but he didn't move. Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze to his.
"Just tell me, please," he said quietly, "if you hesitated even a second before destroying my letters. Was there a moment's indecision?"
His eyes bored into her, and she barricaded her mind, shutting the doorways to those delicately folded notes with the elegant scrawl of her name at the top.
"Why would that matter?"
"Give me a scrap of something to hold onto, Cissa." He moved closer, and she held her ground. "Anything to dull the pain of seeing you for the next hundred years at holidays and family events."
He lifted his hand, but his fingers curled before he reached for her. Her throat clicked, and he must have seen something in her face, because he stood taller and stepped forward.
"Don't—" She twisted away, pacing to the far side of the gazebo. "Stop it. I can't breathe when you stand so close to me."
"And I can't when you're far from me." His voice floated to her on the wind. She squeezed her eyes closed, wishing away his perfect words. "This past year has been agony without you—"
"What do you want from me?" She whipped around, and found him less than an arm's length away. "What good will this do? I won't be your mistress, Lucius. I won't sully myself just to satisfy you in ways my sister cannot."
"There is an option you're not considering." He studied her face slowly, as if committing each line to memory. "I don't want you as my mistress."
She stared at him. And then her lungs caught. "That isn't an option. The match has been made, the date has been set—"
"Well, the date we could keep—"
"And what about Bella? You would discard her? Toss her away, and subject her to gossip and disgrace?"
"You know better, Cissa." His voice was low. "It would surprise no one. Things have shifted between us. Most in our circles consider Bellatrix and I an unconventional match. Our interests have grown apart for some time—"
"Is that so? The last I checked, you both attend the same gatherings and worship the same 'Dark Lord'—"
"I support him only as long as it serves the interest of my family. Both our families."
Narcissa's head spun. She blinked at him, her tongue useless in her mouth.
"Rodolphus Lestrange is in love with her. He has been since school," he said coolly. "She wouldn't face any disgrace. It could be very clean, actually."
Narcissa dug her fingers into her palms. "This is preposterous."
"Politically, they're far more aligned than she and I—"
"You can't just swap us out, Lucius—"
"And you'd rather condemn three people to misery? Four, counting Lestrange?"
"My father would never allow it."
It had been the wrong thing to say. Her mouth opened wordlessly as something sparked in his eyes. A glimmer that had been absent all day.
"Would you? Allow it?"
"That's—that's not what I—"
"If there was a way"—he stepped into her—"If your father agreed, if your sister agreed—"
"Lucius, don't. They'll never—" She choked on the words as she spun away, struggling to draw air. But he only closed in.
She could feel the heat from his chest between her shoulders as his hand ghosted across her arm, trailing just above her skin. Her lip caught between her teeth, and she wanted to cry from the rightness of it all. How perfect it felt for him to hold her.
"This is madness."
"Is it?" His breath caressed her ear. "Narcissa, I've thought of no one but you for years. Marrying your sister won't put an end to this. It will just burn brighter until we're both consumed."
Her eyes moved quickly over the sunset, searching for something to hold onto. But her world was already spinning, his words seeping beneath her skin and whispering in her bloodstream.
It might be impossible, but they had to try. She had nothing to lose. She'd lost both of her sisters, but she might have him — this one chance at happiness.
His lips pressed under her ear, and her body felt like it was floating in thick, luscious water.
Slowly, she turned to him, letting her gaze drift over his face.
"I read every letter." She struggled to keep her voice even. "I memorized them before I burned them. I couldn't bear having a piece of you if I couldn't have all of you."
His eyes were dark, and his knuckles brushed her cheeks.
Her heart was fluttering so fast she thought she might have been running for lifetimes before finally standing still. Perhaps she had.
"You may have all of me, Narcissa Black. I'm offering it to you."
"You can't promise that yet—"
"I can."
She laughed even as a tear escaped, shaking her head. "True gentlemen offer on one knee, Lucius Malfoy."
"I have never claimed to be a true gentleman." He smiled down at her, radiant.
"Pity, because I have no interest in—"
He descended, slipping down to one knee before her as he caught her hand. She couldn't tear her eyes from him as he brought her knuckles to his mouth, brushing them softly with his lips.
"I can promise you easy things, like wealth and comfort," he said. "But the harder things — loyalty, equality, and adoration — those are the things I want to give you. I want you to take them from me."
Narcissa's vision blurred as she nodded. "Yes. If there's a way out of this—"
He stood, cutting her off with his lips, his hand in her hair and his arm around her waist. She gasped into his mouth, and he slanted her head to the side. Her fingers curled against his elbows.
Lucius's tongue was teasing her lips open before she'd taken a second to ground herself, and then he was in her mouth, her head, her heart. He groaned when she dared to press her tongue forward, and then his arms were crushing her to him, caging her to his chest. She should have felt trapped, but she'd never felt more free.
The years of heartache and solitude melted away as the sun dipped low over the Manor. She didn't have to walk through this life alone.
She found Bella in her bedroom that evening, just before midnight. Narcissa stood in the doorway, watching her remove the ring from her finger, and the pins from her hair.
"Are you going to stare at me all night, Cissy?"
Narcissa's pulse began to race. "How are the Lestranges?"
"Fine, I suppose. I hardly noticed them there." Bella swiveled around. "Don't tell me you're finally interested in coming next week."
"I was curious about Rodolphus," Narcissa rushed out. "The eldest. What—what do you think of him?"
Shrugging, Bella turned back to the mirror. "He's tolerable, I suppose. Not the smartest, but he's devoted enough."
Narcissa stepped inside, and Bella's dark eyes flicked to her. "Why do you ask?"
Closing her eyes, she breathed through her nostrils. There was no easy way to do this. "I have something to confess to you." Her lips felt dry and cracked, and she wet them. "I have feelings for Lucius."
Bella snorted before removing another pin. "Of course you do. I've seen the way you look at him."
Narcissa legs wobbled, as if she'd been shoved. She leaned against the doorframe to steady herself. "Oh."
Bella spun to her with bright eyes. "Cissy, please don't tell me you've come to ask me to give him up, like a spare dress I could pass down to you." She smirked, clucking her tongue as she retrieved her brush from her nightstand.
"I… not exactly, no." Narcissa's head pounded. "Bella, I never would have come to you if I thought you had feelings for him. Or if he didn't have feelings for me, too. But you don't care for him. And he does — for me." Bella arched a brow, and Narcissa gathered all of her mother's composure to continue. "We love each other, and I've come to have a conversation with you about what we can do."
"Hmm." Bella sat before her vanity again, fussing with her hair before meeting Narcissa's eyes in the mirror. "Well, you're right that I don't care for him much. I suppose you can have him."
Narcissa gaped at her. "Truly?"
"If you want each other, then have at it. I don't have much use for him in that way." She began brushing out her curls, grimacing through a snag. "But I insist you inform your own husband of the arrangement, whenever he comes into existence. You'd have to explain any fistfights or murder attempts to Father."
Placing a hand on the nearest surface, Narcissa braced herself. "That's not what I'm suggesting, Bella. Lucius doesn't make you happy, and he never will." She drew a shaky inhale. "And I'm asking if, as a sister, you'd be open to pursuing a more suitable match. For all three of our sakes."
Bella's lips tightened as she continued brushing, but gave no other indication that she'd heard her.
"I've spoken to Lucius, and he is ready to speak to Father. He's also ready to speak to Rodolphus Lestrange, who he says is quite taken with you. But I wouldn't feel right without your blessing. And if I'm wrong, and if you do care for Lucius, then..." Narcissa couldn't bring herself to continue.
Bella gazed at her hairbrush, ripping the black curls from its teeth. "You're in love with him," she said, almost to no one.
"Yes."
"You want nothing more than to marry him."
"Yes. I know you don't care much for marriage, but there has to be someone who might stand a better chance of securing your—"
"Oh yes, Narcissa," Bella whispered. "Do think of me and what I want in all of this."
Narcissa held her breath, watching her sister's reflection. "Bella, please. If I'm wrong, tell me. I don't want to hurt you, or make you angry—"
"Angry?" Bella slammed down the hairbrush. "I'm disgusted by you. Letting yourself be so taken with a man that you forget who you are. What you are. All just so you can become his property."
There was a wound in her chest that seemed to gnaw open. "Bella. I love him. I want to be his partner—"
Bella spun in her chair. "You don't need a partner. I am your partner. You are a Black. A pure-blood. I don't care if you've fallen in love with my fiancé, Cissy. I care that he's made you weak."
Narcissa scarcely moved as she stared at her sister. Her mouth opened, and snapped closed. "Your partner? I've barely seen you in the last two years. You never visit, you never write—"
"Because I've been busy. Everything I do is for us. For this family. If you ever bothered to attend any of our meetings—"
"Don't hold your breath." Narcissa flinched the moment the words escaped. "I'm sorry, Bella. I love you, but I won't allow you to impose your choices on me. Whatever path you're pursuing is your own. I know what I want, and I can only ask you to respect that."
Bella stared at her with ice in her eyes, then turned back to her vanity. "Take him. I don't care. Talk to father, set up the engagement with the Lestranges. But don't expect me to celebrate the death of Narcissa Black. Because that's exactly what it will be. A funeral for the person you could have become."
"That's quite enough."
"It's true." She met her eyes in the mirror. "Mother made you weak. I should have stepped in sooner. I won't make that mistake again."
Narcissa lifted her chin. "Love isn't weakness, Bella."
Bella's face was impassive as she began rubbing lotion on her arms. "It is. You'll see. One day, you'll see."
She didn't look at Narcissa again.
.
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A/N: Only one chapter left! No update schedule at this time.