Lucius wished that he had things to do over again. The intensity of their touch had taken him by surprise and he feared that he hadn't made his best effort. It felt strangely imperative to ensure that his own kisses spoiled her for life. Perhaps they could revisit that course of study the following morning? Surely, Lucius could think of a great many things that Narcissa ought to be prepared for.
This pleasant thought carried Malfoy through the evening, but his plans were dashed. After an early morning hunting expedition with Rodolphus, he returned to find the ballroom empty.
"Where's Narcissa?" He asked, bounding into the smoking room and catching Rodolphus and the future Mrs. Lestrange in a torrid embrace.
Extracting herself begrudgingly, Bellatrix made a face. "I'd imagine she's still floating six feet above the ground."
Lucius continued to look confused. Taking pity on him, Rodolphus interpreted. "I think she's still in the drawing room, trying to work out where to put Rookwood's flowers.
Malfoy stiffened immediately, and was rather grateful for that innate reaction, as it prevented him from bolting to the door. "He sent her flowers, did he?" He asked in what he hoped was a neutral tone. There was a wormy, twisting feeling in his stomach which he feared might be a twinge of jealousy. It was an entirely alien sensation. He had never been jealous before. People were meant to be jealous of him!
Forcing himself to appear casual, Lucius picked up the paper and made a move to settle into a chair, but Rodolphus clearing his throat reminded him that Narcissa's flowers was the last thing on the future Lestrange's minds, so he was forced to excuse himself.
Lucius walked back down the hall, trying not to be obvious as he headed toward the front of the house. It didn't take effort to spy Rookwood's flowers. The rosewood table beneath the chandelier, usually ornamented by a tasteful arrangement of orchids in a Chinese vase, was now groaning under the weight of the most gaudily overblown profusion of blossoms he'd ever seen.
Gladiolas. He sniffed contemptuously, thinking that if Rookwood was out to court a girl he ought to at least do it properly. Lucius would have sent roses- not the hothouse kind, the wild, bramble ones that were the colour of Narcissa's cheeks.
He determined to owl the florist directly after breakfast, but he wanted to find Narcissa first. He felt the need to see for himself what effect, if any, this offering had had on Narcissa's crush. He reminded himself that she was still a very young girl and rather unaccustomed to the attention of men. No doubt she had been flattered. He himself was somewhat surprised at the length that Rookwood had gone to- given that the man had more or less said the day before that his interest in Narcissa was shallow at best. It wouldn't do for her to get her heart broken by misinterpreting the gift. Lucius needed to clear things up- to warn her of the guiles that men used. Perhaps afterwards they could move on to their more interesting studies.
Anxious to begin, Lucius hurried through the halls, but he froze as he entered the morning room.
"Oh, Lucius! Look who's come!"
Narcissa was sitting at the table, daintily buttering a scone and looking as if she'd just rolled out of bed. Her hair was once again wild, and her face was devoid of paint, but her skin had a bright, vibrant glow. She was swathed in something which might have been a dressing gown, but in any event was unfit for receiving guests. Rookwood appeared somewhat discomfited to discover that his swan had reverted to duckling form. He was perched on the edge of his chair, looking as if he wanted an excuse to go.
"What are you doing here?" He growled at Rookwood as he slid into a seat of his own, pointedly choosing the chair between Narcissa and the other man. He briefly dropped his scowl to give Miss Black a radiant smile. "You're looking lovely as ever this morning." He said sweetly. Without being asked, he reached forward to pour himself a cup of tea.
"I was in the neighbourhood." Rookwood mumbled his posture stiffening as he rose to Malfoy's bait. "I decided to stop by the house."
"Augustus brought me flowers!" Narcissa interjected, eyes glittering. "They're in the hallway, did you see?"
"I saw." Lucius said stiffly, doubly annoyed when the other man caught the disgust in his tone. "A rather awkwardly large arrangement. Did you steal them from a funeral on the way here?" He simply couldn't resist.
"Lucius!" Narcissa's tone was reproachful and he instantly regretted the remark. It was ridiculous to behave so churlishly, but he simply couldn't help himself. "Mr. Rookwood was being kind!"
"Unlikely." Lucius retorted in a voice too low for her to hear. He gave the other man a jaw-clenched smile. "Weren't you on your way to work?"
"Yes, actually." Augustus said in a self-important tone. "But I'm going to France on business this afternoon and thought I'd better stop by and get the post."
"I'll run and fetch it!" Narcissa said quickly, and then popped out of her chair.
As soon as she was gone, Rookwood turned on Lucius, eyes blazing. "I'll thank you to kindly keep your nose out of my business." He hissed angrily.
Lucius arched an aristocratic brow. "Rookwood, what on Earth do you mean?"
"Miss Black." Rookwood said tightly. "You didn't care about her at all until she started paying attention to me. You can go back to jerking along Cat Baker or whomever-"
"Kitty Slater." Lucius corrected wondering if Rookwood could remember any woman's name and pleased to see that this only made Rookwood angrier.
"Kitty Slater or whatever other woman you're dallying with this week and leave this one to me. Narcissa could be very helpful to my career and-"
"Your career?" The veneer of politeness slipped from Lucius's face as he rose from the chair, stalking forward. "Don't presume to know about my interest in Narcissa, Rookwood, and don't think that I'm going to let you-"
"Let me?" Now Rookwood was taunting. "I don't know that its up to you to let me do anything." He said smugly. "It's me that Narcissa's always wanted."
"So sure of that, are you?"
"Yes." Rookwood slipped something out of his pocket and Lucius frowned in confusion. It looked like a diary. "Bellatrix can be a very ally at times." Rookwood said, his voice sickly sweet. "Did you know, Malfoy, that Narcissa hates roses?"
Lucius gasped as he was finally able to make out the writing on the spine: The Journal of Narcissa Avalon Black. It was a diary- Narcissa's diary! Bellatrix must have handed it over to Rookwood!
He didn't want to believe that it was true, but Augustus flipped through the pages until he came to one and stopped. "Here it is 'Rodolphus has sent Bellatrix flowers again. I'd be jealous if they weren't stuffy old roses again…'" His grin widened. "Oh, and this reminds me that I really must thank you for the lessons you are giving her- perhaps you should concentrate a bit more on grooming?"
It was a particularly low barb and Lucius's expression blackened.
He stopped on the last page, "I think that I can manage the other tutoring."
"You won't get away with this!" Lucius declared, still shocked that Bellatrix would have handed over the book. No doubt she thought that she was being helpful, but it was despicable to think that Rookwood would use it to pull all of Narcissa's strings- and he didn't really care about her at all!
"We'll see about that." Was all the other man said, and Lucius finally snapped. "Who's going to stop me, 'that wretched Malfoy boy?'" He made a particular point of emphasizing the final word as he parroted out of the diary.
"Yes." Lucius answered quietly, and would have said more if Narcissa hadn't chosen that precise moment to re-enter the room.
She was still far enough away for Rookwood to issue a final taunt: "Very well, Malfoy." He sneered, "May the best man win."
..ooOOoo..
"May the best man win."
Narcissa didn't know what Rookwood was talking about could feel the tension in the room as she returned with a pile of parchments that had arrived from her father the evening before. Lucius was scowling, and she assumed that he was annoyed that she hadn't bothered to do anything with her hair. In her defence, she hadn't expected Rookwood so early, and had been utterly dumbfounded when he arrived with a bouquet of flowers. Still, it was obvious that Lucius was working very hard to make things work between she and Rookwood and it must look ungrateful for her to squander his lessons. In the future, she would make sure to summon the elf as soon as she was out of bed. It didn't take too long, after all. It was just a matter of habit.
Narcissa had laid awake much of the night before turning things over in her mind, and she was happy to note that things seemed much clearer to her now that the morning had come. It was utterly ridiculous to throw herself at Malfoy. He was clearly out of her league. True their family backgrounds were similar, and it wasn't at all out of the realm of possibility for him to take up with her sister Bellatrix, but Bellatrix and Narcissa were two very different girls. Bella (and even Andromeda before she went away) was elegant and poised. She was witty and vibrant- the sort of girl that men hovered around like moths about a flame. Narcissa was simply…
"Daydreaming again?" Lucius's expression was still brooding and Narcissa gave herself a mental kick.
"Oh, excuse me. I was…thinking about what gown I'm going to wear to dinner tonight." She lied, but hoped that it sounded like something a witty, vibrant girl would say (witty and vibrant enough for Rookwood at least).
Lucius gave her an odd sort of look, and then he took her arm. "I'm sorry to leave you, Mr. Rookwood, but I think that Bellatrix was looking for us earlier." He announced.
Narcissa bowed her head. Obviously she was making a mess of things and Lucius meant to extract her as soon as possible. "Yes, of course." She mumbled meekly and started scuffling toward the door.
She gasped when Rookwood caught her arm and spun her around to face him. His own features were twisted into something almost like a grimace, and so she was utterly unprepared for what happened next.
For one awful moment, Narcissa truly believed that he was going to bite her. That, at least, seemed far more likely than what he actually did do: planted a kiss squarely in the middle of her lips. It only lasted a moment. Blessedly, unlike Remington Flint he had the intelligence not to squash his tongue between her teeth, but she still felt as though she had just been shot. Blinking, she stumbled back, squarely into Malfoy's chest, so close to falling that he had to tighten his arms around her waist to keep her standing upright.
"Adieu, Miss Black." Rookwood said with a tilt of his head. Then he swept out of the room.
There was silence as Rookwood's footsteps echoed down the hall, finally capped by the squeal of the door swinging open and book as it clamoured shut. When she finally got the courage to turn round, Narcissa was unsurprised to find that Lucius looked absolutely thunderous.
"Oh, I made a muddle of that, didn't I?" She tried to joke, but Malfoy would have none of it. He was still staring grimly, and the fingers grasping her waist were digging into her ribs like pinchers.
A part of her wanted to linger, not minding the pain. It was, at least, contact with Lucius. She forced the thought away. This was precisely the sort of silliness that she had warned herself against. Gathering her resolve, she pulled herself out of Malfoy's arms. "I don't suppose that Bellatrix and Rodolphus really wanted us?" She asked shrewdly.
He shook his head.
"Well then, I think I'd best go back upstairs to change. Rookwood might come back."
"Yes. He's developed a habit of popping by." Lucius said. She thought he ought to be happy- his lessons were paying off!- but he was still too cross to smile.
"Are we going to have a lesson?"
Narcissa was almost afraid to ask and wasn't surprised when he answered: "Not right now."
"Later then?" She couldn't squelch the hope that fluttered in her chest or the euphoria when he nodded "Yes"
"It occurs to me." He said slowly, "That if you're meant to dine with Rookwood on Friday, we'll need to accelerate the course."
"Oh?" Narcissa hadn't expected him to move forward. She assumed that they would concentrate on remediation, as she had so clearly failed to retain what he had taught her before.
"I was thinking about yesterday…" He drawled. She hoped he couldn't see the flush on her cheeks as her thoughts drifted back to the kissing lessons. Practice had certainly been different than reality, she thought grimly, refusing to classify the smooch that Rookwood had offered in the same league.
"Oh?" She tried to sound unconcerned.
"Yes…I think that we may have hit on a valuable teaching technique."
Kissing? She hoped that he was talking about kissing.
"Practical experience. Its better to show you what I mean than tell you. Besides, I can't know where you need help unless I've seen it for myself."
She tilted her head, hiding her confusion as Lucius went on.
"Perhaps we ought to attempt a trial run?"
"Of?"
"The date." He said dismissively, as though this ought to have been obvious. "Where is it that Rookwood is taking you?"
"To Alchemy in London." She responded. "He said to wear something smart."
"And do you have anything smart to wear?" Malfoy cannily guessed that she did not.
When Narcissa only stared mutely, he continued. "Well, I suppose we ought to go shopping anyhow. You'll need a gown from the ball- and don't tell me that you'll wear something of Bella's!"
That actually hadn't been what she'd meant to say at all. She did want a new gown, but she'd squandered most of the allowance her father had left her on some rather expensive potions agreements.
She was distracted again as she let her mind drift back to the potion.
Malfoy had "Most Potente Potions" in his possession now, so she hadn't been able to work on the project for days, but the treacle and lacewing syrup she'd been concocting had almost boiled down. That meant that it was only three more days until she'd be ready to add the final touch. She ought to be euphoric. Now, however, she was having second thoughts. Wouldn't it be better to try things Malfoy's way? It seemed to be working well enough. She'd rather be loved on her own terms than through a trick. Besides, she was beginning to doubt that Rookwood was worth a term in Azkaban if she got caught.
Not like Lucius.
She was almost used to the desire to box herself about the ears- the way she felt whenever she acknowledged that, in spite of believing for almost six years that Rookwood was the epitome of male perfection, he was nothing next to the Malfoy heir. She didn't dare let herself even think the dark idea that her mind had brushed against: of using the potion on Malfoy himself.
It probably wouldn't work anyhow. She assured herself. Even if it did, people would instantly suspect. Malfoy would receive an antidote and she'd be sent to prison left to rot with the Dementors and the thought of how he hated her churning in her mind for the next fourteen years…
"Narcissa?"
She'd drifted again. She had no idea what he'd been saying at all, and had to admit as much when he asked her if she agreed.
"I said that we could go into town Thursday morning and you could see about a dress. My mother's stylist has a salon on the High Street. She could sort something with your hair, and there's a boutique across the way. I promised my mother I'd meet her for some last minute shopping but I could drop you and then we could meet later for our…practice date."
He emphasized the word "Practice" which Narcissa thought was only sensible, all things considered. No doubt he had a fleet of silly girls tossing their knickers at him and wanted to keep things between them in the clear.
That was one of the things that she liked about Malfoy: his foresight. He always had his mind clearly on a goal and wouldn't be swayed. She could learn from his example.
"Yes, I'd like that." She said trying to mimic his tone. "Well, I suppose that's settled then…I suppose that's all you need me for today?"
"Almost." He said.
"Oh?"
"Don't keep your eyes open when you kiss." He said calmly.
"Did I-?" But the rest of her words were muffled when Malfoy's mouth sealed over her own.
Practical experience, she reminded herself for her last conscious thought before her senses were overwhelmed. In spite of knowing what Lucius was about, it almost felt like he meant it. It was a desperate struggle- likened to keeping her head above water when she was learning how to swim. The temptation to let go- to quit fighting and simply sink into the warm, silky pool of pleasure he had created was almost too powerful to resist.
This time, he didn't make the mistake of before. He didn't hold the kiss so long that she lost her breath. His lips alternated their caress, peppering busses along her chin and neck, but always returning to her mouth before she had a chance to protest or pull away.
The kiss was more forceful than the last time, and instead of simply touching her with his lips, one of his palms curved around her waist. His hand slid up and down her ribs, its thumb almost-but-not-quite brushing her breast while the other laid heavily on the bend of her waist. He held her lower body against his, the fabric of their clothing barely a barrier as he backed their bodies against the door.
The wood made a quiet thud as her bottom pressed against it, but even when there was no place left to go, Malfoy didn't stop his forward motion. His hips tipped forward and she felt something long and hard press into her stomach. She didn't even know what it was, but it sent a shock racing through her body and, with it, a jolt of pleasure so strong that she reflexively pulled away.
Her body was trembling as she sank down the door, the only avenue of escape from the circle of Malfoy's arms.
"Narcissa, I…" He tugged her back to standing, but took a step away. His expression was now one of concern.
"Don't say it, Lucius." She said quickly, feeling very foolish for her panic and wanting to head his apology off. She was unsuccessful, however.
"I shouldn't have done that." Lucius said anyhow in a voice so heartbreakingly sincere that she wanted to curl under a rock and die. It was bad enough if he was sorry to have frightened her- but to regret that he had ever done it at all!
Narcissa could feel tears welling up in her eyes and so she spun away. Dodging Lucius's hands, she whipped around the door and into the hall. "Until Tomorrow, Lucius." She muttered, and then raced up the steps back to her room.
Once inside with the door safely latched she rummaged under the mattress for her diary, needing someone to talk to, even if it was an empty book. It wasn't there! She was certain that she had tucked it under her mattress the night before, but now it was gone.
Bellatrix.
She felt sick as she sank to the ground, and started to wonder if it was even possible for the day to be more of an emotional roller coaster. She'd barely eaten breakfast and she'd already had to deal with Rookwood's flowers, Lucius's kiss, and now the missing book!
Luckily, Narcissa had weapons of her own to wield against her big sister to get the diary back. She was still glad, however, that she hadn't put her thoughts about Lucius down in words. She could only imagine what Bellatrix would do- probably run right to him so that they could both laugh at her foolishness- not that he wasn't laughing right now.
"I shouldn't have done that." He had said. Narcissa felt another knife of pain in her stomach, but another, unnameable sensation as well as she thought back to the kiss. He had felt so strong holding her, so certain. When he'd moved against her, she felt a keening that she didn't understand. It was as if a fuse had been lit inside her body, burning toward an inevitable explosion. She didn't understand it- though she suspected that it might have something to do with why Bellatrix and Rodolphus spent so much time sneaking off to the Orangery, or why Remington Flint (before she bit him) had been so keen to get his hands up her dress.
Feeling unsettled, she dragged herself to the bath. Then, after she had soaked a while in the tub, she called the elf to arrange her hair.
Bellatrix was the only person home for lunch. She announced, in a tone of annoyance, that Rodolphus and Malfoy had gone into town to meet their friends, so Narcissa was spent to while away the rest of the day by herself, going to the lab and half-heartedly stirring the lacewing syrup and then taking a walk on Ravensden's grounds.
Eventually, after a light dinner taken in the smoking room with her sister, she retired to her room and fell asleep reading a book.
Narcissa was jolted awake sometime past midnight. The candle at her bedside had burned low. Gutting and sputtering on her bedside table, it cast only the dimmest of light and was no match for the moonlight that streamed through her window or the fire crackling in her hearth.
She wasn't certain at first what had awoken her, and groped automatically for her wand. "Who's there?" She called into the darkness.
There was no answer at first, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach as a large, dark form enclosed in a swirling black cape moved toward her bed. For a moment she thought it was a vampire, but then the figure stepped into the light and she released her breath.
"Malfoy." She said in a tone of clear relief. "What are you doing in here?"
She couldn't make out his expression in the dimness, but his tone was sheepish when he replied, "I was going to leave you a note."
"A note?"
"To remind you about tomorrow. We have an appointment."
"I didn't think you'd want to, after…" Her body was hot with embarrassment again as she remembered. "Well…"
"Of course I want to!" Lucius said quickly. "If you still trust me, that is."
"Trust you?" Narcissa had no idea what he was going on about, but she didn't question it. She was too relieved to learn that, even if he was sorry that he had kissed her, Lucius still wanted to be her friend. "Of course."
"Excellent." Lucius stiffened and stuffed something under his cloak.
Flowers. Narcissa thought wistfully as she caught a whiff of their perfume. He and Rodolphus must have been visiting girls in town. No wonder Bellatrix was mad.
"I'll collect you at breakfast then? Don't bother doing anything fancy with your hair. Madame Ursaline will sort it out at her salon."
Narcissa nodded her head. Then, after Lucius had gone, she snuggled down into her blankets and returned to pleasant dreams.
True to his word, Malfoy was waiting when Narcissa appeared the following morning for her meal. She was about to take a seat when Lucius stopped her. "Unless you're starving," He began, "there's a place near the salon that has an excellent breakfast spread."
"That would be nice." Narcissa agreed at first. Then she patted her head self-consciously. As Malfoy had instructed, she hadn't done a thing with her hair- she hadn't even combed it! At least she was wearing presentable, if baggy robes.
Lucius hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. "I suppose you're right. Some other time?" Narcissa hoped her disappointment didn't show. She doubted very much that she would ever be able to call the raincheck in.
Feeling less hungry than before, she nibbled a piece of toast and a piece of orange. Then, after washing it down with milky tea, she rose again to her feet.
Narcissa hadn't passed her Apparation license yet, so they were forced to take the floo- a fact that Malfoy seemed to find exceedingly annoying. He grumbled all the way to the hearth. Only when Narcissa suggested that he Apparate ahead and meet her there did he cease his comments.
Luckily, it wasn't far to London, and Narcissa's robes were charmed against ash. In any rate, the grate at Madame Ursaline's salon was immaculate, so she didn't even have to dust her robes when she stepped out.
"You must be Lucius?" A plump, stern looking woman bustled forward, speaking to Lucius, but concentrating on the girl. Without preamble she poked Narcissa in the back, correcting her posture, and then began raking her stubby fingers through Narcissa's hair.
Miss Black wasn't quite sure how to respond. True she wasn't the most poised and glamorous of girls- but it was also true that she was a girl and not a horse. It hardly seemed fair that she should be poked and prodded like a Pegasus at a county fair!
"The meeting is when?" Madame Ursaline was still speaking to the Malfoy heir, who must have told her already about Rookwood's date because he answered "Tomorrow night".
The woman dipped her chin and snapped a finger for an assistant. They chattered quickly in French before she returned her gaze to Lucius. "I don't think that it will be hard. She has potential, this little one."
"Yes."
In spite of how spectacularly badly Narcissa's hopes had burned her the day before, she couldn't suppress a little surge of joy at the notion that Lucius thought she had "potential" too.
He circled around Narcissa, gauging the beautifiwitch's expression carefully. "Will it take long?"
"Until at least this afternoon."
"She has to go shopping too."
"Kiri will bring some gowns to the salon." Narcissa winced. She had forgotten that she didn't have any money. How was she even going to pay for the salon? She was about to voice an excuse when her attention was distracted by an incredible sight: the tubby old woman was shooing Lucius toward the door! "Just leave things entirely in my hands. You won't regret it."
"I'll be back this afternoon." Lucius promised. He gave Narcissa a reassuring smile. "I can't wait to see it. Six O'clock. Don't be late."
Narcissa flashed a smile in his direction when she was reminded of how their lessons had begun only one short week before. "I won't." She promised. "Malfoy's never wait."
Lucius brushed a kiss on her cheek. Then, with a nod to Madame Ursaline, he disappeared outside the door.
Narcissa felt suddenly very alone. Madame Ursaline and her assistants were still sizing her up like a cut of beef, and she felt completely alien in the salon.
All around, sinks and chairs were full of gorgeous young and not-so-young witches being styled into perfection. How could Narcissa ever hope to compete?
"Have you ever thought about changing the colour?"
Madame Ursaline's voice pulled Narcissa's mind away from her worries. "Not really." She replied, wincing slightly as the older witch yanked hard on the back of her hair.
"We'll need to decide on something before we send to Kiri's for the dress…Auburn perhaps?"
The reminder of the dress made Narcissa remember: she had no way to pay for any of this! She started to say, "I think I left my handbag at home-" But Madame Ursaline cut her off.
"You shouldn't need it here. Besides, that's on the list."
"List?"
"The list of things Malfoy said you were meant to buy."
Narcissa swallowed at the long strip of parchment that unrolled in the other woman's hand.
"That's…er…just it." Narcissa said anxiously. "My purse-"
"Oh, goodness dear! You don't need money! Malfoy's put it all on his account. You don't need to worry about a thing."
"But-" Narcissa stammered in protest.
"No buts, dear." Ursaline commanded. "We have to get busy. You're meant to be at the optician's by two."
This new bit of information took Narcissa off guard. An optician? How much planning- and expense- had this involved?
"Yes dear. For your correction charms." She smiled indulgently at her charge. "Now go ahead and sit back." She withdrew her wand and tapped it once on the seat. "Just relax…this won't hurt a bit."
A/N: Thanks again for the comments. They really make writing fun!
Mary: Allegiance isn't posted anywhere anymore. After weathering some fairly scathing reviews, we decided to trash it or at least keep it tucked away for a bit until we got the energy to rework it. Sorry! :(