Chapter Ten: Narcissa
The air was cold. That was, perhaps, the first thing he noticed on entering the parlor. Compared to the rest of the house, it should have been refreshing.
It wasn't.
Voldemort stood next to the fireplace, his long fingers trailing over the brickwork. Chloris and Tyrus were seated on one side of the room and looked up as Severus entered. Though Mrs. Malfoy had been wearing a thin robe earlier in the day, she now wore a heavy cloak over it. Snape wished that he would have had a similar idea.
His eye caught Lucius' form, standing on the other side of the chaise lounge, furthest away from Voldemort. And there was a girl, blonde and silent, seated poised as a sculpture, at the Dark Lord's side. Behind her was a pair that could only be her parents. They had the same angular face, the same pinched expression, and the same blue-blooded beauty.
They all had the same fragile delicateness that could only come from years of inbreeding.
Voldemort looked up as the door closed. "Ah, young Severus. So glad to have you finally grace us with your presence."
He fumbled for words. "Forgive me, my... my Lord. I did not realize..."
"Enough of your excuses," he snapped in return, cutting off his answer with a hard glare. He motioned for Snape to sit and the boy lowered himself into the nearest chair, wondering what sort of meeting this was. There were no masks, no circle of obedient Death Eaters. There were only the two households, the Dark Lord, and himself.
Strange that even after a summer of living with the Malfoys, he still did not consider himself as one of them. Surely they had made every effort to include him, both into their house and, in Lucius' case, into his bed.
And yet... he still felt like a stranger intruding on temporary hospitality. Perhaps he was homesick.
Yes. Homesick. That was it. That was all. It would pass.
Voldemort's voice purred over those gathered. "Again, thank you for providing the means for our little meeting here." He raised a glass of brandy towards Lucius' mother. "Chloris... as always, you are a most excellent hostess." She inclined her head, a coy smile darting across her face. "I would like to formally introduce to all of you the Evremonde family." Gesturing towards each in turn, he recited their names. "Asriel." A tall, gaunt man with short-cropped blonde hair and a blonde pencil mustache. "Katalia." The mother, just as tall and even slimmer than her male counterpart, but not without a distinctly feminine figure. Her blonde hair fell to her waist, the top half pulled into an elaborate updo.
"And Narcissa." The girl. She was a near mirror image of her mother, minus a goodly amount of years. Her nose had the same snobbish point, her eyebrows the same suggestive curve, her lips the same pale fullness. She had already inherited her mother's curves.
He supposed that she was beautiful. He could never tell with girls, it seemed. But by a quick glance at Lucius, he was rather certain that he thought she was beautiful. His stomach suddenly twisted with nausea and hatred towards the intruders.
Narcissa was looking back at Lucius with clear blue eyes, not bothering to hide her examination of him. Of course, the Malfoy boy was doing the same. He supposed that made it all right, then.
"I think," began Voldemort, gaining once again the attention of the room, "that it would be mean much to The Cause for there to be an alliance between two such powerful, influential... pure-blooded families." He smiled at Lucius, a facial contortion enough to make one shiver, and took Narcissa by her slim hand. With it, he helped raise her to her feet. "Come, boy."
Lucius crossed to stand before the Dark Lord, his face downcast. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Your parents have taught you well of our ways, have they not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And so you will surely know your duty to The Cause."
"Whatever you will, my Lord."
"Good," he hissed. "As you know, Muggle blood has tainted the once-pure bloodstream of wizards. Precious few know what a pureblood is. It would most... please me... if you would prove that you know."
Lucius eyes darted up, glancing at Narcissa briefly before returning to the floor. "My Lord?"
"Lie with a wife, Lucius. Produce a child... the offspring of two pure-blooded families." He offered Narcissa's hand, and after a moment, the blonde-haired boy accepted it and kissed her knuckles. "Her parents, as well as yours, have already consented to the joining."
He ran his tongue slowly over his lips. "It would be my... pleasure, my Lord, to do as you wish."
A twisted smile spread over Voldemort's face. "Excellent." He stepped back, as if to observe his handiwork. "Then it is a betrothal."
* * *
Somehow, Snape had forced himself through the rest of that ridiculous night, to seeing Voldemort's green eyes mockingly laugh at him every time they met over the dinner table. He even succumbed to a moonlit walk through the gardens with the newly engaged couple, only at Lucius' attempt at urging him.
It hadn't been much of an attempt, now that he thought of it.
But he would have rather choked on his own knife rather than let them walk alone... together.
So now he was doomed to walking a few paces behind them, his sharp gaze noticing every time their hands happened to brush against each others'. Hadn't they used to do that while walking through the Hogwarts' corridors? Hadn't Lucius been his not two hours ago? How much had changed.
He tried to focus on the way he would end his History of Magic essay, but the only thing he could think of was how much he hated Narcissa's accent.
His hand had twitched over his wand when the girl had turned to him to ask with a giggle, if he 'did no like ze girls.'
He had responded stiffly with, "no, he did not fancy them much, thank you," though the words had come out jumbled between his clenched teeth.
A few minutes more, a few more exchanged glances, and Lucius had stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Snape. "Sev..." he started, looking rather distracted, "would you mind going back to the house for a minute? Tell Mum that I don't much feel like dessert."
For a moment, he seriously considered refusing. He would tell Lucius to go deliver his own bloody messages; he wouldn't hurt his betrothed too badly by the time he got back. Only a few Crucio's. Nothing serious.
But then Lucius had gotten the gall to lay his hand affectionately on Snape's shoulder and squeeze it lightly. "Come on, Sev, please?" he asked in that sing-songy, pleading voice of his... the voice that he hadn't been able to refuse in well over two years.
He had stared back, his eyes inky black, and wondered when he had gotten so weak. Then he had nodded once and turned away, without a backward glance, towards the house.
A soft giggle followed him, drawing a flush to his cheeks. But he hurried on, determined to deliver the message, convincing himself that the pair would still be there when he returned. Lucius would thank him and press a kiss to his cheek. He would take his hand and lead the way through the gardens, with Narcissa being the one to trail behind this time.
But when he returned, both were gone.
END CHAPTER TEN
Author's Note: Apologies for the short chapter, but I just wanted to throw in the kink in the plot there before moving on. There are still several chapters left... but not that many. *dun Dun DUN* Hope you've enjoyed it thus far!
The air was cold. That was, perhaps, the first thing he noticed on entering the parlor. Compared to the rest of the house, it should have been refreshing.
It wasn't.
Voldemort stood next to the fireplace, his long fingers trailing over the brickwork. Chloris and Tyrus were seated on one side of the room and looked up as Severus entered. Though Mrs. Malfoy had been wearing a thin robe earlier in the day, she now wore a heavy cloak over it. Snape wished that he would have had a similar idea.
His eye caught Lucius' form, standing on the other side of the chaise lounge, furthest away from Voldemort. And there was a girl, blonde and silent, seated poised as a sculpture, at the Dark Lord's side. Behind her was a pair that could only be her parents. They had the same angular face, the same pinched expression, and the same blue-blooded beauty.
They all had the same fragile delicateness that could only come from years of inbreeding.
Voldemort looked up as the door closed. "Ah, young Severus. So glad to have you finally grace us with your presence."
He fumbled for words. "Forgive me, my... my Lord. I did not realize..."
"Enough of your excuses," he snapped in return, cutting off his answer with a hard glare. He motioned for Snape to sit and the boy lowered himself into the nearest chair, wondering what sort of meeting this was. There were no masks, no circle of obedient Death Eaters. There were only the two households, the Dark Lord, and himself.
Strange that even after a summer of living with the Malfoys, he still did not consider himself as one of them. Surely they had made every effort to include him, both into their house and, in Lucius' case, into his bed.
And yet... he still felt like a stranger intruding on temporary hospitality. Perhaps he was homesick.
Yes. Homesick. That was it. That was all. It would pass.
Voldemort's voice purred over those gathered. "Again, thank you for providing the means for our little meeting here." He raised a glass of brandy towards Lucius' mother. "Chloris... as always, you are a most excellent hostess." She inclined her head, a coy smile darting across her face. "I would like to formally introduce to all of you the Evremonde family." Gesturing towards each in turn, he recited their names. "Asriel." A tall, gaunt man with short-cropped blonde hair and a blonde pencil mustache. "Katalia." The mother, just as tall and even slimmer than her male counterpart, but not without a distinctly feminine figure. Her blonde hair fell to her waist, the top half pulled into an elaborate updo.
"And Narcissa." The girl. She was a near mirror image of her mother, minus a goodly amount of years. Her nose had the same snobbish point, her eyebrows the same suggestive curve, her lips the same pale fullness. She had already inherited her mother's curves.
He supposed that she was beautiful. He could never tell with girls, it seemed. But by a quick glance at Lucius, he was rather certain that he thought she was beautiful. His stomach suddenly twisted with nausea and hatred towards the intruders.
Narcissa was looking back at Lucius with clear blue eyes, not bothering to hide her examination of him. Of course, the Malfoy boy was doing the same. He supposed that made it all right, then.
"I think," began Voldemort, gaining once again the attention of the room, "that it would be mean much to The Cause for there to be an alliance between two such powerful, influential... pure-blooded families." He smiled at Lucius, a facial contortion enough to make one shiver, and took Narcissa by her slim hand. With it, he helped raise her to her feet. "Come, boy."
Lucius crossed to stand before the Dark Lord, his face downcast. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Your parents have taught you well of our ways, have they not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And so you will surely know your duty to The Cause."
"Whatever you will, my Lord."
"Good," he hissed. "As you know, Muggle blood has tainted the once-pure bloodstream of wizards. Precious few know what a pureblood is. It would most... please me... if you would prove that you know."
Lucius eyes darted up, glancing at Narcissa briefly before returning to the floor. "My Lord?"
"Lie with a wife, Lucius. Produce a child... the offspring of two pure-blooded families." He offered Narcissa's hand, and after a moment, the blonde-haired boy accepted it and kissed her knuckles. "Her parents, as well as yours, have already consented to the joining."
He ran his tongue slowly over his lips. "It would be my... pleasure, my Lord, to do as you wish."
A twisted smile spread over Voldemort's face. "Excellent." He stepped back, as if to observe his handiwork. "Then it is a betrothal."
* * *
Somehow, Snape had forced himself through the rest of that ridiculous night, to seeing Voldemort's green eyes mockingly laugh at him every time they met over the dinner table. He even succumbed to a moonlit walk through the gardens with the newly engaged couple, only at Lucius' attempt at urging him.
It hadn't been much of an attempt, now that he thought of it.
But he would have rather choked on his own knife rather than let them walk alone... together.
So now he was doomed to walking a few paces behind them, his sharp gaze noticing every time their hands happened to brush against each others'. Hadn't they used to do that while walking through the Hogwarts' corridors? Hadn't Lucius been his not two hours ago? How much had changed.
He tried to focus on the way he would end his History of Magic essay, but the only thing he could think of was how much he hated Narcissa's accent.
His hand had twitched over his wand when the girl had turned to him to ask with a giggle, if he 'did no like ze girls.'
He had responded stiffly with, "no, he did not fancy them much, thank you," though the words had come out jumbled between his clenched teeth.
A few minutes more, a few more exchanged glances, and Lucius had stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Snape. "Sev..." he started, looking rather distracted, "would you mind going back to the house for a minute? Tell Mum that I don't much feel like dessert."
For a moment, he seriously considered refusing. He would tell Lucius to go deliver his own bloody messages; he wouldn't hurt his betrothed too badly by the time he got back. Only a few Crucio's. Nothing serious.
But then Lucius had gotten the gall to lay his hand affectionately on Snape's shoulder and squeeze it lightly. "Come on, Sev, please?" he asked in that sing-songy, pleading voice of his... the voice that he hadn't been able to refuse in well over two years.
He had stared back, his eyes inky black, and wondered when he had gotten so weak. Then he had nodded once and turned away, without a backward glance, towards the house.
A soft giggle followed him, drawing a flush to his cheeks. But he hurried on, determined to deliver the message, convincing himself that the pair would still be there when he returned. Lucius would thank him and press a kiss to his cheek. He would take his hand and lead the way through the gardens, with Narcissa being the one to trail behind this time.
But when he returned, both were gone.
END CHAPTER TEN
Author's Note: Apologies for the short chapter, but I just wanted to throw in the kink in the plot there before moving on. There are still several chapters left... but not that many. *dun Dun DUN* Hope you've enjoyed it thus far!