Chapter 5
Narcissa awoke to a pounding in her head and a low buzzing in her ears. She rolled over onto her side, reached for the curtains on her bed to shut out the bright, unwelcome morning sunlight, but frowned when she grasped only air. Slowly returning to consciousness, she noticed that the mattress beneath her felt odd. It was softer she was accustomed to and the coverlet felt like silk, rather than the heavy, timeworn quilt that she snuggled under at night. Anxiously, she opened her eyes, and then her breath caught in her throat.
She had no memory of the room that she was in. Unlike her cosy, untidy chamber at home, this room was vast and immaculate. Light, airy silk fabric decorated the walls and covered the bed where she slept. The material felt cool and slick against her skin- a sensation which gave Narcissa an additional cause for panic. She was completely naked beneath the sheets.
Heart throbbing, Narcissa skimmed her hands over her body, goosebumps rising in their wake. There wasn't any sign that anything had happened, but she couldn't recall a thing about the night before!
Dragging the sheet around her shoulders, she slid nervously out of bed and peeked into the hall, trying to locate some clue of where she was- and who had brought her there. There was a flash of movement beside her and she quickly spun around. A woman was standing next to her, bundled into a sheet just as Narcissa was, staring open mouthed.
She screamed, and then felt foolish a moment later when she realized that she was only looking at her reflection. She didn't recognize herself.
Flushing furiously, Narcissa lifted a hand to her hair. The styling charm that had been cast on it was a good one- her curls were still nearly perfect and the makeup on her face hadn't smeared or faded. It was easy to see what she initially thought she was someone else.
Narcissa started to walk toward the mirror, but a wave of nausea stopped her in her tracks. She felt stiff and altogether wretched. Was she sick? Was that why someone had brought her here?She was close to an answer. Her subconscious was dangling the truth in front of her like a carrot before a horse but she couldn't quite seize it yet. Waiting for her stomach to settle, she sat back on the edge of the bed and continued her study of the room. She noticed that there was something on the bedside table. It was a large bouquet of snow coloured blossoms- gardenias by their scent- with a card tucked between their stems. A second note was folded and sitting next to them. She reached for the card in the flowers first.
"My dearest Miss Black," The note began in a spare, heavy hand that she recognized as Rookwood's. She felt a flutter of panic. She hadn't spent the night with Augustus- had she? She felt as if she would be sick again. Luckily, the rest of the note assuaged her fears, "One blossom for every hour until we meet again."
Narcissa released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. But if she hadn't come here with Rookwood, then...
Lucius.
Like a wave breaking over a rock, realization crashed, drenching her in a renewed sensation of dread. The memories returned swiftly, each more mortifying than the last. He had taken her on a "practice" date and offered her a glass of wine. She'd drunk too much. Narcissa began to shake as she remembered: You're very handsome, Mr. Malfoy.
If only that were the worst of it! Narcissa's skin burned as she recalled the other things that she had said- that she had offered. Of course, Lucius had been too much of a gentleman to resist- not that he would ever debase himself by even touching her!
Narcissa's awareness of her own nakedness was renewed and she slumped slowly back onto the bed. Malfoy had been trying to take care of her, and she had acted like...like...
Like Andromeda. A voice in her head taunted, tormenting her with the knowledge that Lucius probably thought the pair of them were just the same- that she'd be cavorting with Muggles and Mudbloods next! She didn't think that she had ever been so ashamed.
When she finally worked up the energy to open her eyes again, she spied the folded note sitting next to the flowers by her bed. Steeling herself, she opened it.
As she expected, it was from Lucius. She didn't think that she had ever seen his writing before, but it seemed to fit his personality. Economical but elegant, he had written only six short lines:
I hope that you are well and will be able to enjoy your date with Rookwood tonight. I've instructed the elves to prepare a hangover potion. Ring for it when you are ready. I regret that I shall be unable to see you home. Business may detain me in London for some time. One of the elves will have a portkey to Ravensden.
Regards,
Lucius Malfoy.
He didn't even want to be in the same house with her! This realization hurt more than all the rest combined. She knew that she had been foolish to even dream that Malfoy might be interested in her as a woman, but now she had squandered his friendship as well.
She threw herself back onto the mattress, wishing that she had a time turner to go back and make it all go away. What could she do? There was nothing. Lucius thought her a hopeless tart- and who could blame him? She hadn't done one sensible thing since he first stepped foot in her home!
This had to end.
Narcissa clenched her eyes, refusing to give way to tears. She still had Rookwood, didn't she? She had liked him once. Besides, he was as much as she could rationally hope for. She wasn't the sort of women that men were meant to love. Perhaps it would be easier to simply settle for comfort now? Compared to Lucius, it was easy to see that Augustus was rather ridiculous and not nearly as handsome as she had first imagined, but she had something that he wanted: favour with her father, and money, and a name. He seemed to be learning to overlook her lack of beauty and poise. Besides, maybe if it was abundantly clear that she was finished being a silly girl- that she didn't harbour any delusions that Lucius might really fancy her- she'd find a way for them to talk again? It didn't have to be much. She knew that it couldn't be, but she would miss him if they never spoke again. They had been acquainted for such a short time, but she already felt that he understood her like no one else.
Yes, it was really the only way.
Narcissa exhaled slowly and tried to concoct a plan. Surely she had spent enough years mooning after Rookwood to convincingly portray a woman in love! She would make sure that Lucius never doubted it again- that she never gave him cause to suspect that she had cared- still cared- for someone other than Augustus.
She would begin by applying what she had learned.
Resolutely crawling back out of the bed, Narcissa stood in front of the mirror and inspected herself again. She didn't have a terrible body. She really hadn't paid much attention before, but the shop owner who had brought over her robes had plenty of complimentary things to say about her bosom and little waist. She would do well to showcase them. What colour was it that Rookwood liked? She found the bag of robes that she had bought the day before, deminaturized it and started sorting through her purchases.
Lucius likes me in blue. She thought, remembering with a pang the playful conversation they had had during their very first lesson the week before. She pushed all the blue dresses to the side. Rookwood probably liked silver, or another dark colour- something staid and stately.
Fishing to the bottom of the bag, Narcissa found the robes she had been thinking of: bias-cut velvet in Slytherin Green. The front was cut in a deep V that emphasized her neck and had long sleeves and a close-cut skirt that added to the appearance of elegance. She had matching jewelry as well- How Malfoy was going to regret it when he discovered how much she'd spent! In spite of what he'd said, she had to find a way to repay him as soon as she could- a faux-emerald necklace and dangling earrings.
After putting on her garments and inspecting the effect in the mirror, she refreshed the styling and makeup charms as she'd been taught by Madam Ursaline the day before. Then she gathered her belongings and headed to the door.
The hangover potion wasn't necessary: adrenaline had done wonders for clearing her head, but she did summon an elf for the portkey. It took her almost instantly back to Ravensden Hall- where she met a rather stunned Rodolphus on the stairs.
"Hello, then?" He said, not recognizing her at first.
Narcissa sighed sadly, "It's only me."
"Where have you...? What have you...?" He stammered in disbelief, his mind and his mouth missing gears.
Before Narcissa could answer, Bellatrix had appeared as well. "By Zeus's thunder!" She exclaimed. "Good Gods Cissa! What on Earth have you done?""Is it terrible?" Narcissa shuffled her feet, feeling even more pathetic in the presence of her perfect sister.
"Yes." Bellatrix spat at the same time Rodolphus gave an emphatic:
"No!"
Ignoring the black gaze he had earned from his soon-to-be fiancé, Rodolphus spoke quickly. "You look sensational Narcissa. I had no idea!"
She supposed that he had meant it as a compliment, but she only heard what he didn't say: that she hadn't been pretty before, that she'd been boring, plain, barely magical at all Narcissa before Lucius came into her life.
"Why are you crying?" He said awkwardly.
Narcissa savagely dabbed away the drop of moisture pooling in the corner of her eye.
"I'm not crying!" She replied.
"Of course she isn't crying." Bellatrix, still pouting, had curled her arm possessively around Rodolphus's waist. "Why would she cry? Today's her big day."
"Big day?" Lestrange still looked quizzical.
"Her date with Rookwood, of course." Bellatrix said in a snide tone. "The God on Earth is going to be here at seven o'clock to spirit her away."
Narcissa stiffened, but then remembered that she was meant to a woman thoroughly smitten, so she giggled girlishly. "I can't wait." She tittered.
Bellatrix looked sceptical and arched a brow. "Well, in any event, I hope that you can manage things here alone. Rodolphus is taking me out for a special dinner too."
"Oh?" Narcissa met her sister's eyes, some of her annoyance melting when she saw the hopeful glimmer there.
"He said there was something that we needed to discuss." She said pointedly and looked as if she was fighting to swallow a smile while Rodolphus shuffled his feet nervously. "You will be back in time to keep Lucius entertained, won't you?"
"Actually, that won't be necessary."
Narcissa had opened her mouth to beg off when Rodolphus spared her the effort. "Malfoy sent me an owl this morning. He said that something had come up in town and...er...he won't be able to make it back."
"What came up?" Bellatrix frowned, looking directly at her sister. "You were with him last night, weren't you, Cissa?"
"Er...last night." She blanched, wondering how much her sister knew.
Happily, not a lot, as she revealed when she continued, "Yes. He must have brought you home past midnight because I didn't hear you sneak in."
"We were...er..." Narcissa chewed her lip, hoping that the pinking charm wasn't getting on her teeth, "held up in London because...we...had....forgotten my shopping bags and had to go back."
"The shops were opened at midnight?" Rodolphus looked unconvinced.
"For the Blacks they are." Bellatrix said in a sniff, unintentionally sparing her little sister a reply. "...and for the Lestranges." At this, both Bella and Rodolphus fell into dreamy smiles, so Narcissa took this as her cue to escape. She continued up the stairs and made her way into her room.
The perfect, unmussed bed that she hadn't slept in the night before loomed before her reproachfully. She had to struggle against the childish urge to mess it up just to rid her of the reminder of where she had last fallen asleep.
It was hours yet until she could conceivably begin preparing for her date, so she tried to distract herself with a book. The first one was a mistake, "Cursed Heart", a Mills & Goon that she had stolen from Andromeda's room. The last thing she wanted to read about now was Caspian Sorcier's "throbbing wand of passion," and so she tossed it aside and reached for something else.
"Lovestruck. Brew and Spell Your Way to Romantic Enchantment." Was the next volume down. Narcissa rolled her eyes. She had purchased the book at Flourish & Blotts two years earlier when her fascination with Rookwood was just reaching its fanatical zenith. Back then, she'd been looking for any way to turn his head. To her disappointment, the book was filled with glamours and simple beautifying potions. She shouldn't have been surprised. One could hardly expect the recipe for an illegal love potion to be readily for sale in Wizarding London's High Street. To find that, she'd had to dig deeper...
Narcissa sat up quickly. That was it! The love potion!
She glanced at the calendar beside her bed. She had completely forgotten the lacewing syrup. She'd charmed the cauldron to stop boiling when the potion was complete. No doubt it was underneath her father's study waiting for her now. All that was left was a lock of her beloved's hair...but whose?
Not Lucius! She told herself forcefully. He wouldn't thank her if he found out and he'd probably be expecting such a silly trick after what had happened the night before. It had to be Rookwood. She'd get the hair tonight, and then slip him the potion at the ball. If she drank a little of it herself, it would all be over. He'd be in love with her, and she'd be in love with him. It was simple. People fell in love at balls all the time- most importantly, Lucius Malfoy would be out of her mind for good.
Heart in her throat, Narcissa slipped down the back staircase and sneaked into her father's room. She had to admit, being constantly ignored had its advantages. Orion Black hadn't even noticed his youngest daughter curled up on a pillow in the corner of his library a year ago when he had pulled out the third volume of the "The Illustrated Encyclodpedia of Tasseomancy", tapped it with his wand, and descended into his secret lab below. Three days later, while he was at his office, Narcissa had first dared to enter the sanctum. It had felt like her first visit to Honeydukes. Orion's lab was stocked with a great many substances she couldn't find at school or purchase on the streets, although she was always careful not to be too noticeable about what she took. Even better was his library. Ranged around a shelf (the covers cleverly disguised as harmless books on Ancient Runes and Quidditch Strategy) had been even more of a goldmine. She finally found the instructions she needed to make Rookwood hers for life- and she was determined to finish what she had started.
After checking that the syrup was complete, Narcissa got out the other ingredients that she needed. The instructions that she was following were from Most Potente Potions- which Lucius Malfoy still had, but she thought that she remembered them well enough to finish what was left.
It took a surprisingly long time. There was bicorn horn to grind, beetle eyes to pluck and separate and mix into a paste, fresh-picked rosethorns to add and, finally twenty drops of Narcissa's own blood- one each for the number of years that she wanted the charm to last. By the time that she had the final potion on to boil, it was after time for tea.Slightly panicked, Narcissa cleaned up her mess, and then rushed back upstairs to her room. She had already selected her gown, but there wasn't time for a bath. She swept her wand over her body, and then called the elf that Lucius had given her to fix her hair and help her into her dress.
By the time that the doorbell rang, Narcissa looked perfect. Even she had to admit to herself that she looked good- not that she still didn't find it hard to believe that the girl in the mirror was really her.
She let one of the elves open the door and, as she had heard her sister advise once long ago when she was only half-listening, let him wait in the foyer a few moments before she started drifting down the stairs.
"Good evening Mi-"Rookwood's voice trailed off, eyes bulging as she drifted down the final flight. Narcissa held her lips in a firm line, but wanted to frown- he looked disconcertingly like the utterly vapid Wilton Goyle when he wore that look on his face.
"Have I kept you waiting, Mr. Rookwood?" She asked when she finally reached the foyer. She knew that she had. Malfoy's never wait. Her mind taunted, but she ignored it, grateful that the little voice would soon be silenced forever.
"It was my pleasure." Rookwood answered, blinking and composing himself. He offered her his arm, "And I insist that you call me Augustus, Miss Black."
She thought it was rather soon to be losing the formalities- though, come to think of it, she had always let Lucius use her given name- and she didn't want to reciprocate, but manners dictated that she did. "Then you must call me Narcissa." She replied.
"Of course, Narcissa." She hated how he said it. "Nah-ceesa." Swallowing the "r" and needlessly elongating the vowels.
Narcissa's thoughts would have lingered on the annoyance, but she reminded herself that this was counterproductive. She was going to be spending the rest of her life with Rookwood. She ought to be concentrating on the things that she did like.
It took a surprisingly long time to remember what those things were. He's intelligent...She reminded herself, thinking of how her father was always praising some or another legal opinion that Rookwood had pulled together cutting through the facts of an ambiguous case. He's from a good family. The Rookwoods weren't rich, but their bloodlines were impeccable. If something were to happen to his older brother, he'd stand to inherit his fair amount. He's busy. She initially began to approve that fact that the long hours he spent at the office would give her plenty of time to indulge in her own interest in potion brewing and writing but then she reminded herself that this wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Rookwood grabbed her cloak from the house-elf and slipping it onto her shoulders. This at least earned a smile. She'd always thought it sounded extremely elegant when a man helped a woman into her cloak. She'd written in her diary about it just a few days earlier...
The thought of the missing journal made her frown, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as Rookwood was already rushing her out the door. "Have you eaten much today?" He asked.
"No." She replied truthfully. She hadn't been in a state for breakfast and after coming home she'd been too intent on her task to eat.
"Excellent." Rookwood said in a smug voice, "You're in for a treat."
They took an enchanted Taxi into London and then walked from the Leaky Cauldron into Diagon Alley. Unlike the Slipper, Alchemy was squashed in the basement of a wizarding painting gallery in the trendy, but less-affluent East end of the street. They were very near to Knockturn Alley, and it was getting late, so Narcissa didn't mind the possessive way that Rookwood was holding her arm. He led her down the steps into the vestibule of the restaurant.
Unlike at the Slipper, it was clear that the maitre d' had no idea who they were. He peered at the list with his spectacles, frowning until he finally found the name. "Ah...yes." He looked quizzically from Narcissa to Augustus and then shrugged. "If you'd follow me, Mr. Rookwood...Madame."
Mademoiselle. For some reason, Narcissa felt like correcting him, but she didn't. She kept her lips forced into a tight smile as they meandered through the dimly lit tables to the back of the room.
In credit to Rookwood, it was not a shabby place. She recognized several faces as they wandered through: Kevin Moran, rookie Quidditch player for the Belfast Banshees was there with a girl who sang on Wizarding Wireless. Gilderoy Lockhart, who'd just written a bestselling Defense Against the Dark Arts book that Narcissa was dying to get her hands on was also there, surrounded by a bevy of male and female admirers. There were a few other people she'd seen on chocolate frog cards but, by the time they reached their own table in the very rear of the restaurant half-way hidden behind a plant, they were back to the hoi-polloi.
Nevertheless, the maitre d' made a careful ceremony of presenting their menus, and then handing the wine-list to Rookwood. He looked rather grim as he consulted it. Narcissa didn't wonder why when she saw the prices.
"I'd rather not have any wine." She said, only partly to be kind. After the night before, her stomach was revolting at even the thought of a sip of champagne.
"Don't be ridiculous." Rookwood scoffed, slapping the menu down. As Narcissa feared, when the sommelier appeared, he pointed arbitrarily at a bottle of red near the top of the list.
"What are you going to eat?" he asked before Narcissa was ready. She was trying to guess how much money he would have left after the wine.
"I don't care." She said with a sigh and put the menu down. "Why don't you order for me?"
Rookwood grunted his approval of this idea and gave a smug nod. When the waiter returned, he selected matching meals of mid-list pork and an appetizer of mixed-green salad.
They were dancing in the middle of the restaurant, and Narcissa looked toward the couples wistfully, remembering the night before. She wished that the whole evening could have been like the dance that she and Lucius had shared: fun, easy and effortless.
"Ridiculous." At first Narcissa thought her date had somehow heard her thoughts, but then she saw him follow her gaze onto the floor. "I don't know why people feel the need to make such a spectacle of themselves. Any savage can dance."
He's read that in a book somewhere. Narcissa thought, and tried to assuage herself with the thought that, at least, Rookwood was literate, but she couldn't bite back the declaration. "I love to dance."
"Well," Augustus said as though he were employing an extreme degree of patience. "You're very young."
Narcissa supposed that this meant she should be cured of such foolish whimsy with the passage of years, but that struck her as rather sad. She didn't want to forget how to take joy in simple things, even if it was more elegant and mature...but she ought to. Rookwood was just the sort of man that she was meant to be with- the sort of man that everyone expected her to marry: someone who was solid and respectable and could keep her feet on the ground. That wasn't a bad thing. It was good to be sensible. She needed the balance. It had always appealed to her before and she was certain, after she had grown calmer about the night before, that she would feel that way again.
She continued soothing herself until their wine arrived. The server made an extreme show of presenting the bottle and then the cork. Rookwood was an enthusiastic participant in the routine, theatrically exaggerating every sniff and slosh of his glass before pronouncing in a solemn tone: "Oaky, with a hint of smoke. Light berry finish. Excellent polish." And a half-dozen other things that Narcissa doubted very much had anything to do with the wine but were meant to sound impressive. He poured himself a glass, and then filled her own.
"I'd like to propose a toast." Rookwood said gathering the goblet in his hand.
Narcissa's heart lifted, hoping that he was about to say something romantic. She curled her fingers around the glass's stem.
"To us." He said intently.
"Us?" Narcissa frowned at the wine. It seemed a bit soon to be declaring themselves a couple. "It's only our first date."
"Ah, Narcissa." He set his glass back on the table and reached forward to take one of her hands. He held her tiny palm in one hand and stroked it with the other. "Of course I've known how you feel about me."
"You have?" She wasn't certain how to feel about this announcement. If he'd known all along, why hadn't he done anything about it before now? Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, she tried to change the topic.
"I believe this wine is Italian." She began, cannibalizing a conversation that had worked the night before. "I do so love Italy in the summer months. Tell me, Mr. Rookwood. Do you travel much?"
"Not if I can help it." He said, taking a long draught of his wine. "Luckily, your father takes most of the trips."
"You don't enjoy it?" She asked, astonished.
"Of course not!" he replied. "It's a wretched business: packing, unpacking, floo powder and hotel meals." He scrunched his nose. "I don't know how other people abide it. The City's well enough for me- with perhaps the occasional holiday on Jersey or maybe Skye. I don't know why everyone's so wild to go abroad. Anything worth having is right here in Britian."
"But don't you think it broadens the mind?" She pressed, unwilling to surrender so easily this time.
Augustus snorted, "People always speak of broadening one's mind as though it is always an improvement. Some people's minds can become overbroadened. They lose focus on what's important. Your sister for example..." Narcissa stiffened. Her fingers curled dangerously around the knife that she was using to butter her bread.
"Your father told me that he caught her reading a bunch of Muggle poetry."
"Sonnets from the Portuguese." Narcissa remembered sharing the book with their sister. Andromeda had gotten it from a shop on Portabello Road when she was meeting her friends in town. They thought it was terribly romantic that the author, and her husband had romanced each other by letters and then eloped. The drawings inside were disappointingly still, but were still quite lovely, and the poems had struck both girls as exceedingly romantic. "I don't see anything wrong with that."
"My point exactly."
"Your point?" Narcissa failed to see what he was getting at.
Rookwood gave another long-suffering sigh. "Yes, well it isn't a very far jump from Muggle love poems to Muggle-loving is it? Andromeda proved that."
Narcissa sat her fist heavily on the table, silverware clanking so that the couples around them turned to look. "How clumsy of me." She muttered, and stared darkly onto her plate.
"I say, Narcissa." Rookwood said, "Is something wrong?"
"I didn't sleep well." She replied. It was more or less the truth. She prayed that was the reason that everything that Rookwood did or said was getting on her nerves. She didn't want to think that he really was as pompous and awful as he seemed.
"Why not?" he asked.
Narcissa didn't really want to answer. Instead, she pushed back from the table and stood. "I need to find the ladies' room." She announced, and then spun around. Without giving the gentleman a chance to stop her, she rushed back through the restaurant. As she walked, her gaze drifted around the room.
The Quidditch players were still drinking. The Wizarding Wireless star was laughing and petting her date. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting inappropriately close to Roy Sigfried and...
Narcissa's blood ran cold: Lucius Malfoy was sitting at the prime table by the window with the one of the most ravishing brunette witches she'd ever seen!
..ooOOoo..
"And so I said to him 'You're absolutely raving if you think I'd ever agree to that! Take it away!' Can you believe it, Lucius? Can you?....Lucius?"
Lucius blinked and turned back toward his date, trying to remember what on earth the woman had been talking about. It was probably something to do with Athenons or Abraxians or some other variety of Pegasus that Lucius lacked the patience to keep straight.
"You haven't listened to a thing I've said." The words were more amused than reproachful, and Lucius was grateful. He'd known Kitty Slater since nursery school and she was one of the few women of his acquaintance who could always be counted upon to be sensible- unless she was speaking of her horses. "Who is she?" She asked with a smile, taking Lucius utterly by surprise.
"What?" he gasped.
"Who is she?" Kitty said again, giggling. She looked past Malfoy. "She must be in here somewhere. You've been staring around all night."
Lucius frowned. He knew that Kitty's interest in him didn't go beyond remaining friends, but it was disconcerting how easily she'd seen through his mask. She was right, he had been stalling at placing an order for the better part of an hour waiting for Narcissa and Rookwood to arrive.
He knew that he shouldn't be there- Narcissa wouldn't appreciate his intrusion on her evening and, besides, he was only torturing himself by hanging around, but he really couldn't imagine anything worse than the hours he had passed since leaving her the night before. He'd replayed the "practice date", and its aftermath in his mind for hours unable to sleep or even think. He forced himself to leave the flat before Narcissa awoke, and then drifted aimlessly to his father's office to play at working for a while. Kitty's owl announcing that she was in town early and asking if he'd meet for dinner had been a blessed relief.
His suggestion that they dine at Alchemy had surprised them both. It was just the sort of place he hated: crowded, trendy and more about being seen than impeccable food and elegant service. She had consented to come, but had been wearing a suspicious smirk half the night that Lucius finally understood.
"Well." Kitty kicked him under the table in a not-so-subtle reminder that he hadn't answered her question. "I assume that she has a name?"
"Narcissa Black." He answered slowly, and watched her eyebrow arch.
"Really?" She sipped her wine with rather more care and restraint than Miss Black had the night before. "You're branching out."
Lucius felt his hackles rise, "And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?"
"She's a bit different from your usual type."
"I don't have a type!"
Kitty wisely chose not to dispute him but merely pressed on. "She's Bellatrix Black's little sister, isn't she? Quiet little thing? Was she at Hogwarts while we were there?"
It bothered Lucius that he didn't know the answer to the question. Surely she must have been? Had he overlooked her like everyone else? The vague memory that she'd gone to Beauxbatons flooded his system with relief. "No." He announced, "She was in France."
"What's she doing here?" Kitty asked.
"She's on a date." Was the miserable reply.
"Oh, dear." Kitty returned, taking another drink.
"It's a long story."
"Well," She grinned and tipped her head toward the still unused menus, "it would appear we're going to be all night."
Lucius smiled weakly. "I don't even really know where to begin I-" but suddenly his voice died off, as his eyes seized on the very woman that he was talking about.
Lucius didn't mean to stare, but his eyes didn't seem to be under his own control. He drank in her form like it was water soaking into sand. She was exquisite. Every time he saw her, she took his breath away again. He didn't care for the colour of her robes- a deep green- but the cut suited her perfectly.
Kitty gave him a puzzled glance, but she finally traced the face, "Well done, Malfoy!" She laughed. "I see that I made a mistake."
Lucius was too distracted to pay his companion any notice until she stood up out of her seat. "I think I need to use the ladie's" She said mischievously.
It took him a moment to figure out what she was about. "No you don't!" He exclaimed fiercely, but it was too late, Kitty was already beyond his reach. Unless he wanted to chase after her- and he didn't put it past her at all to make a scene – he would simply have to wait.
..ooOOoo..
Narcissa stared into the mirror blindly, still barely recognizing her reflection. She had no idea how long she had been standing in the ladies lounge. She had a tube of lipstick out, and had made a pretence of dabbing it on her lips, but she was running out of excuses to linger.
What was the matter with her? Narcissa tortured herself with the question, even though she didn't really want an answer. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Rookwood. True he didn't share her view on as many topics as she had always imagined, and he had been somewhat insensitive about Andromeda's defection , but it was nothing beyond the ordinary. He had been a perfect gentleman on their date so far, and he had made a lot of effort- and gone to considerable expense- to ensure that she had a lovely time. She wanted to enjoy herself. Only two week earlier she would have been in heaven. Now she could barely muster the energy to smile!
Strange as it seemed, she felt as if the girl staring back at her really was someone else. It wasn't just the way she looked, she felt different on the inside too. She was more sure of herself and what she wanted- and that no longer seemed to include Rookwood. So much had changed over the past two weeks! Her lips twisted into a dark smile. It was as if her life was divided into two eras: before and after Lucius.
There was really no sense pretending that she didn't want him. She sighed heavily and, heedless of what it was doing to her glamour charms, splashed some water on her face. Maybe it would be better to simply talk to him? If she explained why she had acted the way she did, but assured him she knew it was ridiculous, maybe that would make things alright?
No. She sighed, dismissing the idea. That would never work. She would only underscore how naïve and unsophisticated she was.
Narcissa sighed heavily and permitted herself a short, yet guilty indulgence to think of him for a while. He looked so perfect sitting in the middle of the restaurant, so completely in command of the room. Even the famous witches and wizards were looking his way as she passed their tables on the way to the ladies. She shivered as she remembered the electric shock that she felt when she met his eyes- and then the wretched, plummeting sensation a second later when she spied the witch at his table. What she wouldn't do to be that girl: confident and serenely beautiful. She was clearly the kind of woman that Lucius was meant to with.
"Excuse me, but aren't you Narcissa Black?"
At the sound of her voice, she spun around, and then did a double take. It was as if she had conjured the woman out of her mind! The very girl who had been sitting at Lucius's table was standing behind her at the mirror.
"Er...yes." Narcissa said slowly. She put her lipstick to her mouth again. Her lips were already sporting several layers of dusky pink, but she didn't want her rival- now when did I start thinking of her like that- to know that she had simply been staring off into space.
"I thought so." The girl sidled up beside her. "I'm Kitty Slater...You're friends with Lucius. He's talked about you."
Narcissa's stomach twisted. How much did this girl know? She felt sick at the image that passed through her head: Lucius and this pretty stranger laughing at how pathetic she'd been. No doubt the girl was here to tell her off for even attempting to entice a man so clearly out of her league. To Narcissa's astonishment, however, when she looked up the girl had a pleasant smile on her face. "You're very pretty." She said bluntly.
Narcissa blushed. "Uh...thank you." Good manners took over where conscious thought began to fail. "Are you having a nice evening out?"
The woman shrugged. "I've had better. This restaurant is overrated." She waved her hand in a lazy circle, but then gave Narcissa a conspiratorial smile, "With any luck though, we'll have an early night."
Narcissa didn't know how she managed to keep on smiling. It seemed more than obvious what the woman was implying, that she and Malfoy—Narcissa squashed her eyes shut, trying to blot the image out of her mind. "Yes...er...good luck with that." She said hollowly. "I really ought to get back to my date."
"Oh. Right." The girl frowned and made a waving motion with her arm. Narcissa thought she saw the flash of gemstones on her left hand. "You came with Rookwood didn't you?"
"You know him?"
"From school. He's better looking than I remembered."
Narcissa's spine stiffened. It was bad enough that the girl had captivated Malfoy- now she seemed to be implying a move on Rookwood!
"Do you like him?" Kitty asked.
"Augustus?"
"Of course." Miss Slater's lips spread into a warm smile that, nevertheless, made Narcissa feel foolish.
"I thought I was in love with him for the past six years." She answered truthfully.
"Six years?" Kitty arched a brow. "It seems like you would know if you were in love with someone by then."
"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Narcissa said mostly to herself.
"You ought to come out with us later."
"What?" Narcissa gasped, honestly confused. Was Kitty trying to rub her possession of Lucius in the other girls face? Was she legitimately trying to be friendly? It sounded like the latter, but Narcissa still wasn't sure.
"We're going to Enchantment later." She said, the name of the posh club tripping easily off her lip. "We're on the list for the club room. Why don't you 't." Narcissa stammered. In the first place, she couldn't imagine Augustus there. In the second, spending the night watching Lucius hang off another woman was not her idea of fun. "Mr. Rookwood has to go back to his office in the morning. He can't stay out late."
Kitty frowned. "Too bad." She sighed. "Lucius is a wonderful dancer."In spite of feeling intimidated, Narcissa narrowed her eyes and answered, "I know that!" She'd been dancing with him herself only the night before.
"Do you?" Kitty was grinning again. "Well then ditch Rookwood and come with us. No one wants to be a third wheel!"
"I beg your pardon?" Narcissa felt again as if she had somewhere lost the thread of the conversation.
"Malfoy." Miss Slater supplied. "My fiance is supposed to meet us there. I'd feel awful just having him sit around by himself."
"Your...fiancé?" Narcissa swallowed hard, pleased and yet disconcerted by this unexpected turn of events.
"He's flooing in as soon as he finished some meetings. You'd love Michael!" She grasped the blonde girl's hand as if they were old friends. "Come!"
It was almost painfully appealing. If Narcissa had any excuse, any pretence to give herself other than her fatal attraction to Malfoy, she would have seized it, but there was none. "I'd love to..." Narcissa gasped. "...but I really can't."
Kitty sighed heavily. "Some other time then."
Narcissa nodded politely, and then swept back out of the room to her table. Their food had come while she was gone, but Augustus hadn't started eating. "I thought maybe you'd run away." He said with the faintest twinge of nervousness. She was pleased to discover that she found this rather endearing.
"I ran into a..." What would she consider Miss Slater? "Schoolmate of Lucius's." She finished at last. "We were talking."
"Lucius Malfoy?" Rookwood frowned and set down his knife and fork, which he was using now that Narcissa had finally returned.
"Of course. You saw him the other day at my house."
"Is he still staying there?"
She thought of what Rodolphus had said and frowned. "I'm not sure."
"I hope he's not."
"Why?" Narcissa was baffled with this pronouncement."
"I don't like to think of you left alone with...someone like Malfoy."
"Someone like Malfoy? What do you mean?"
Augustus reached across the table and took her hands, his face the very picture of concern. "Oh my dear girl, don't you know?"
Narcissa narrowed her eyes and listened as Rookwood set forth a litany of charges against the Malfoy heir, everything from involvement in the darkest arts (which Narcissa did not count as a failing), to the seduction and debauchment of young girls (not beyond the realm of possibility, though she couldn't believe the girls in question, should the exist, were unwilling victims). "Not at all the sort of scoundrel that a woman like you ought to be seen around."
"And what sort of man should I be seen around?" Narcissa asked tightly. She could feel the frown hovering behind her lips, but she struggled to contain it.
"Someone more suited to your temperament and position in society."
"I hardly think the Malfoys beneath the notice of the Blacks." It was on the tip of her tongue to add something tart about the same not being necessarily true of Rookwoods, but she managed to contain herself, conscious that any defence that she offered on Lucius's behalf could expose her secret to light.
"No. I suppose he's quite the friend of your brother-in-law-to-be." Augustus snarled.
"How do you know about that?" It was the second time that evening that Rookwood seemed to have been able to read her mind.
He appeared momentarily flustered, but quickly recovered, "Your father."
Narcissa chewed her lip. It was possible. She suspected that Rodolphus had spoken to Mr. Black before the latter's departure to places abroad regarding his intentions toward the Middle Black, but she had never known her father to discuss his personal life with inferiors before.
"What's your interest in Malfoy?" She said carefully.
"In Malfoy?" Once again he looked momentarily wary. He tried to hide the look as he took another sip of wine. "It's my interest in you, of course dearest." She flinched at the term of endearment.
"And what, precisely, is that?"
"What?"
"You never gave me the time of day before last week." She said, once again parroting Malfoy's turn of phrase. "I might have been in peril from any number of men before."
"Narcissa." Rookwood laughed lightly. "I think we know that wasn't the case."
"And why was that?" She felt strangely empowered as she waited for him to say it: that he'd never noticed her until her appearance had changed, but what he said took her completely by surprise.
"It took Malfoy's little lessons to bring you to the notice of men, didn't it?"
The taunt stung, but more jarring was the blasé way in which her spoke of her tutelage. "How do you know about that?" She hissed- and don't say that you heard it from my father!"
"Know about what?" Rookwood feigned innocence.
"The lessons!"
"Lessons?" She was unconvinced by his attempt to appear surprised, "I was merely employing a figure of speech. Good Godric Narcissa, do you mean to tell me that you actually got instruction in how to act around men. How utterly-" He reached forward to stroke her cheek, but she evaded the touch.
Narcissa stood abruptly. "I want you to take me home!" She announced, loudly enough that some of the other diners near their table turned their heads.
"Don't be ridiculous." Rookwood pointedly stabbed a roast potato and popped it in his mouth. "You haven't eaten a bite."
"I'm not hungry." Narcissa countered, "And I want you to take me now."
"Listen, girl..." Rookwood's tone was warning, "After the money that I paid-"
"I don't care what you paid!" She was past the point of caring that she was making a spectacle of herself. Several nearby tables had hushed now to overhear the row. "I'm leaving now."
"I'm not taking you."
"Fine." Narcissa flung her napkin into the chair and spun around. She could feel tears on the rims of her eyes. She felt hurt and very confused. She still didn't have an answer to her question. How did Augustus know about the lessons? Was he really telling the truth? Was it just a lucky guess?
No. Her mind insisted. There was too much that didn't make sense. Her thoughts were whirling as she stalked out of the restaurant and back to the lobby to hail purchase floopowder or see about hiring a portkey home. Behind her, she heard Rookwood calling for the check and then demanding once more that she return. He'd be on her heels soon. She walked faster.
By the time she swept back into the entry tears were glittering on her cheek. "Is anything the matter, Madame?" The Maitre d' looked up from his reservation book and gave her a worried glance.
"No. I'm just...not feeling well, I'd..." She started to ask him where she could obtain transport home, but realized in her haste that she'd forgotten her handbag. She didn't have two sickles to rub together, much less purchase a portkey back to Ravensden.
"Narcissa! Narcissa Black!"
Hearing Rookwood approach, she bolted for the door. "I'd just like to get some air." She blurted to the astonished maitre d', and then hurried into the night.
She hadn't collected her cloak either and it was utterly freezing outside. She crossed her arms around her shoulders and started to walk aimlessly into the night. Unfortunately, in unfamiliar heeled shoes, she was slower than Rookwood. He caught up with her on the first street corner.
"Stop this!" He hissed, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her against the wall.
"Stop what?"
"Behaving like a little girl."
"I'll act however I please." She hissed back and tried to leave but he held her firmly in place, shaking her once so that her head knocked lightly against the bricks behind her.
"No, Narcissa. You will not. No woman that I date is going to make a public spectacle of herself in this manner!"
"Woman that you date?" Narcissa would have laughed if not for the sensation that she was trapped inside a private nightmare. Surely he was jesting! The look on his face, however, was resolutely serious. "I'm not going anywhere with you again. Thank you for dinner, Mr. Rookwood, it was...enlightening."
"What is it that you want?"
"I don't want anything."
He made a dismissive grunt. "You've been in love with me since you were twelve years old." He said in a condescending sneer. "Don't even pretend that you're going to walk away now because Malfoy's poured some honey in your ear."
"I'm not going to listen to this." She tried to slide down the wall, but was stopped when Augustus's hands slid under her jaw and he lifted her chin to his lips.
The kiss that he gave her was nothing like the chaste, gentlemanly kiss that he had offered at her house a few days before. It was hot and demanding and nearly overwhelming- so shocking that she forgot to give him the same treatment that she had offered to Remington Flint. When he finally pulled away, she was shaking.
"Don't try to pretend you didn't want that."
"I don't!" She panted desperately. She didn't! Did she? She was confused. She had tried all night to recapture her lost adoration for Rookwood, but that objective was rapidly fading. It might be true that Augustus was the best that she could hope for- so perhaps she'd be better off alone!
She bucked wildly and finally managed to wriggle free. Rookwood let her leave, but his voice carried after her. "Did Malfoy ever kiss you like that?" She blanched as she remembered the lessons. Lucius had kissed her with the same intensity, it was true- but otherwise nothing was the same. Malfoy's lips on her own had been heaven: warm and light and drugging, while Augustus merely made her feel slimy and hollow.
"That isn't very fair. I knew I shouldn't have put it past Malfoy to cheat."
"Cheat?" She hated that she had let him under her skin, but she found her curiosity where Malfoy was concerned to be irresistible.
"On our little wager. It would appear that Lucius has won."
"Wager?" She said breathlessly.
"Yes." The arrogant smile was back on Rookwood's face as he stepped toward her again. "He said that he could turn you against me. He said that he could make you choose him."
"Choose him?" Narcissa felt weak at the knees.
"The other morning, when I brought your flowers. We were quarreling. He said that he could tempt you away...He asked me to make a bet."
"A bet?"
"May the best man win."
Even as he spoke the words, Narcissa recalled overhearing them as she drifted out into the hall. She hadn't known what the men were discussing. Had it really been about her?"
"Why would he do that?" She rasped.
"Cruel amusement, I would guess." Augustus was all the way beside her now. He'd brought her cloak and handbag from the restaurant and he gave them back. "He found your diary at your house and thought he could have a spot of fun."
"My diary!" Narcissa swayed as realization settled into sense. No wonder Lucius had arranged the dinner and let her push him so far the evening before- she was nothing but a game.
"Yes. He was bragging about it. I hope there wasn't anything in there that you wouldn't want him to see." Rookwood's voice was all concern, though Narcissa didn't believe it. He had been in on the game too, hadn't he?
No man would ever really want her for herself. She had been a fool to believe anything else. "Goodbye, Mr. Rookwood." Narcissa said firmly. "I'll send father's parchment by post."
Not giving a damn about the prohibitions against underage wizarding, she rummaged in her handbag for her wand. She didn't really care if she got splinched, she thought as she lifted her wand to Apparate. She simply wanted to be home. She wanted the nightmare to be over. She wanted things to be back like they always had been before.
Happily, Narcissa arrived home in one piece. She appeared on the front lawns of the Black's manor and it was only a short walk to the front door.
She dismissed the elf who let her in and started stalking up the stairs, her mind still whirring with activity. Some of the pain of Rookwood's explanation had faded, but was replaced with a searing anger.
How dare Lucius use her like that! She had admitted herself that she was not the calibre of woman that Malfoy would ever desire, but neither was she fit to be trifled with like a Muggle or an elf! She was a Black- and Malfoy would do well to remember that. She could make him fall in love with her if she wanted- consequences be damned!
Narcissa's mind cast to the potion again, and she felt her fury waiver. In spite of his motivations, he had succeeded in attracting her to a point that, even in her rage, she found it hard to wish him completely out of her life. She had enjoyed the lessons immensely- particularly those on kissing...which didn't mean she was above enjoying a spot of revenge. Surely she could simply frighten him? Embarrass him? Expose him and turn his game back upon itself? Malfoy didn't know that he had been found out and would probably want to continue. Well, Narcissa thought, smugly, he was about to learn a thing or two of his own!
NOTE: Rookwood's "Any savage can dance" quote is, of course, from Pride & Prejudice. In spite of his objections to reading Browning (Andromeda's "Muggle Poetry"), one must assume that Jane Austen either earns a special exception, or was secretly a witch.