Chapter 5

Wedding Day

All too soon, it was morning again. Then, before Narcissa knew it, it was the day of the wedding. She hadn't seen Lucius since he delivered her pony- though she barely had time to miss him in the frantic bustle of her days. The morning after Lucius's visit, when she awoke, there was a notice in the Prophet where the Gossip Column used to be, informing that the usual correspondent was taking an unexplained leave of absence. Further mentions in the Prophet were confined a formal wedding announcement.

When her parents announced the "Larger wedding", Narcissa envisioned a guest list at around 100- the bare minimum number of family and close associates they could invite, but the actual list of names on her mother's parchment would reach from end to end of the Manor if it was completely unrolled. Her parents had spared no expense- which was to say, they hadn't worried themselves with any sort of restraint in spending the Malfoy's money. The downstairs was in chaos as painters and builders and furniture makers tromped in and out, levitating this and that as they restored the house to its former glory.

The ceremony moved out of the rose garden, and into the side lawn which, to Narcissa's horror, her parents had new rose hedges installed. They paid the Department of Weather Augury and Modification an absolutely exorbitant sum to ensure that rainclouds forcast for the wedding morning drifted toward Wales instead. Narcissa herself had become secondary to the event. She had always heard that a bride was meant to be a princess on her wedding day, but no one paid her a bit of notice when the fine, sunny (as paid for) morning dawned. So it was that, hungry, but too nervous to eat, she found herself wandering the grounds of Ravensden while the rest of the family made final preparations for her to wed.

Narcissa avoided the rose garden and whole surrounding area for fear of being trampled underfoot, choosing instead to walk up the gentle hill towards the wooded copse, so that she might sit down upon the old oak tree's swing and collect her thoughts.

However, collecting her thoughts proved to be a practically impossible task. Narcissa couldn't concentrate on anything for longer than a few seconds. And when she did manage to form a conscious thought it was laughable. She spent a good five minutes panicking about a book
she hadn't read for Divination, only to remember that she wasn't even taking Divination that year!

It was too much, too fast, too soon. Narcissa rested her elbows on her knees, held her head in her hands and scrunched her eyes shut. She couldn't do this; she wasn't old enough, strong enough, brave enough. She wanted to curl up into a tiny little ball and hide in a dark, safe hole where no one would ever find her. She didn't want to be Mrs Narcissa Malfoy! She wanted to stay Miss Narcissa Black, a normal teenager with normal teenage worries. Was that so much ask? She demanded of the world at large, opening her eyes and when she heard a soft cooing, and finding that there was a little pale grey dove standing on the ground in front of her.

Narcissa stared at it blankly for a moment, and then groaned. Her parents hadn't ordered doves for the wedding had they? This one might have escaped. She watched glumly as the bird fluttered towards the oak waiting for it to take flight, but instead it hopped out of sight
behind the tree trunk.

Narcissa stared back down at her lap, and began to worry that she would trip while walking down the aisle and fall flat on her face in front of every single important witch and wizard in the country, but a soft whooshing sound caught her attention and she twisted on the swing- and then shrieked. Where the little dove had disappeared behind the oak stood a woman.

The swing slipped from beneath Narcissa as she started in surprise, flinging her inelegantly onto the floor before swinging back to hit her against shoulder blades a moment later.

"Oh my!" The woman exclaimed, a gloved hand covering her mouth anxiously. "That looked awfully painful, are you all right?"

"Yes," Narcissa spluttered leaping to her feet, blushing furiously as she tried to brush twigs and leaves off her dress. "Yes, thank you, I'm-I'm-"

The woman, the animagus, smiled down at her. "You are Narcissa Black." She was actually not very much taller than Narcissa herself, her figure though lovely, was very petite, but something in the way she held herself seemed to give her added stature.

"I'm- yes, I'm Narcissa," Narcissa stammered, at a complete lost for words.

"Splendid," the older woman said and extended her hand. "I'm Evangaline Malfoy."

Narcissa blinked and stared for a few moments, before remembering to take the hand and shake it. "Excuse me," she said, flushing. "I don't know where I've put my manners."

"Probably tucked them away to make room for courage," the older woman said in a wry tone and with a strange smirk on her face so that Narcissa didn't know if she was meant to agree or disagree or simply laugh. In the end, she did neither, but merely stared at her feet uncomfortably.

"I'm very pleased that you could make it for the wedding," Narcissa said when the silence threatened to become too overwhelming.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it," Evangeline replied, and continued to regard Narcissa with her cool grey gaze that was somehow achingly familiar.

"Have you seen Mr. Malfoy this morning?" Narcissa asked.

The other blonde arched a perfect brow, "My husband?"

"Your son." Narcissa bit her tongue, realizing now her error in referring to her fiancé so formally, "Lucius, I mean."

"Ah." Evangeline's lips twisted upwards on the edges, "I've seen him." She remarked in a way that hinted at things unsaid, but she didn't give Narcissa a chance to offer a further query. "And now I've come to see you."

Miss Black offered a little smile, quite certain that her poor nerves- already half frazzled in anticipation of what was to come that afternoon- would not last through the interview. Mrs. Malfoy had done nothing untoward, but the sense of scrutiny that she exuded was enough to make Narcissa bite her lip.

"Turn round," the older woman said, flicking her wand to conjure a neat little chair which she deposited herself upon in a graceful sweep. Her tone did not admit refusals, and Narcissa did as she was told.

"Ah yes," came Evangeline's verdict, "Malfoy money does buy very pretty things."

Although she resented the insinuation in the remark, Narcissa realized that she could not deny it. Were she to protest her person not for sale, the fresh-rooted rose garden, and freshly papered drawing rooms of Ravensden Hall would belie the truth. The Malfoys had bought her- she only feared she would not prove worth the price.

"Oh, come darling- don't look so glum." Mrs. Malfoy reached up from her perch to pat Narcissa's hand- a gesture more unnerving than sympathetic, "You're the very newest toy! Lucius's lovely little doll..."

"I'm no one's plaything!" Narcissa snapped, surprising herself with the sudden outburst which tripped out of her mouth before it even had time to fully form in her mind. She was mortified, of course, and started to say so, when Evangaline cut in with laughter.

"No, no. Dear. Don't ruin it with an apology!" the lady said, to Narcissa's utter astonishment. "How utterly delightful! What a fool Julius is. You're so much more promising than your sister!"

The bulk of the comments meant nothing to Narcissa, but the remark of her own sibling drew her attention. "You knew Andromeda?" she asked.

"Of course." Evangaline smoothed down her robes- fashioned from a smooth, shiny silk the same colour as her animagus form. "She wrote to me in France- some sentimental nonsense applauding my courage for 'fleeing a loveless marriage' and begging sympathy."

Narcissa's cheeks burned. It sounded very much like something Andromeda might have written, though she could guess from Mrs. Malfoy's haughty tone how the letter was received. "You weren't sympathetic," she modulated her voice carefully so that they were somewhere between a statement and a question.

"Of course not- idiot girl!" Narcissa hoped that the 'idiot' in question was her sister and not herself. "I have three million galleons a year and no one to answer to but myself. Julius has his

precious son and no one to nag him about his obnoxious habits- by my reckoning, our marriage was a wild success!"

Narcissa feared her mouth was hanging open- a belief that was shortly confirmed by Mrs. Malfoy's frown. "I do believe you're shocked. Well, I confess I'm disappointed, Miss Black," she said with a weary sigh. "But if you want to go breaking your heart, Malfoy men are fine rocks

to dash against."

"Lucius isn't breaking my heart!" the girl said quickly- too quickly to judge by the narrowing of Mrs. Malfoy's eyes. "I understand that it's only business."

"Do you?" Evangaline asked. "Good. Then there's still hope." She stood from the chair and smoothed down her skirts again, taking her time as she moved the short distance to here Narcissa was standing and cupping the girl's chin in her two gloved palms. "I tell you 'congratulations' and I mean it- you're the luckiest girl in the world. Beautiful. Envied. Lucius will give you anything you ask for- except his heart. Never ask for it, Narcissa," she counseled

gravely, and then held her gaze for a long, silent moment as if to impress this advice into her young daughter-in-law's mind.

"Well..." she dropped her hands abruptly, breaking the connection between them, "You should be getting back to the house. You'll need to get ready soon. I'm glad we had this 'little chat'. If you ever need to ask anything-"

"There is one thing." Narcissa spoke quickly, her tongue once again outrunning her conscious thought.

"Oh?" Evangaline inclined her head, indicating her willingness to entertain the query.

Narcissa swallowed before she spoke. "If you were so happy, why did you go away?"

Evangaline's lips twisted into a sighing sort of smile. "Did I say that I was happy?" Then, without waiting for Narcissa to reply there was a puff of silver smoke, and a small grey bird soared away into the sky.

..ooOOoo..

"Narcissa Black! Where in the name of the Gods have you been?"

Narcissa jumped, as she was pounced upon by her frantic mother the second she crossed the threshold of Ravensden Hall. She had walked in a slow daze back to the house after her unexpected meeting with Evangaline Malfoy. The woman who was very soon to be her mother-in-law, Narcissa wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

"I just went out for a breath of fresh are, mama. You didn't seem to-"

"You can breathe all the fresh air you like after the wedding ceremony," Mrs Black declared, pushing her daughter towards the staircase. Now that the day had actually arrived, and there was no way that it could possibly be avoided, she seemed determined to make sure it went as smoothing as wizardingly possible, undoubtedly terrified of a repeat of her niece Lyra's wedding. "Which, I might add, we are never going to be ready for at this rate!" she said, panicking and barking a few orders at a couple of very worn out looking elves.

"Mama, it will be fine," Narcissa assured her mother, surprising even herself by the calmness of her tone. She sighed glumly, well once the worst was known what was the use in worrying? She was resigned to her fate.

"We haven't even started fixing your hair, your makeup, your dress-"

Narcissa tuned out as her mother marched her upstairs where she had a whole entourage ready to begin working on the bride.

Bellatrix caught them at the top of the staircase prepared to help; her hair and makeup were already perfectly fixed, although she was still wrapped in a dressing gown and hadn't dressed yet.

"Well now, Cissa," she sighed, catching the lost, resigned look on her baby sister's face, "this is your wedding not your funeral. Do you think you could manage a smile?"

"Bellatrix you are not helping matters!" Mrs Black snapped, pushing past her other daughter.

Narcissa didn't say a word, couldn't say a word, all she could think about was what had become of the last woman to be a Malfoy bride, her parting words and the chilling warning that she had given: Lucius will give you anything you ask for- except his heart. Never ask for it.

..ooOOoo..

"She's back!"

Sirius Black burst into the smoking room of Ravensden hall to relay his message, sounding almost disappointed as he reported the news.

Sitting by the window near Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy pretended not to notice, thereby keeping the relief from showing on his face. He told himself that principal part of any interest in whether his fiancé appeared at the ceremony to become his bride was a matter of pride. Being stood up by one Miss Black was galling- but losing another would simply be intolerable. He did, however, own to a small degree of partiality toward Miss Narcissa- in a harmless, affectionate way. She was a brave, intelligent little thing after all- highly admirable qualities for a wife. She had given him her word that she would not attempt to flee the wedding and –rare indeed for a Malfoy- he had trusted her.

Therefore, although no sigh escaped his lips, or release of tension manifested itself in his handsome features, Lucius felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Narcissa Black had returned. Even now she was being primped and painted and laced into a frilly dress in preparation to become his wife.

Lost in his musing, Lucius didn't notice as Rodolphus tried to hand him a glass of wine.

"Starting to get nervous, eh Malfoy?" he asked, looking a little surprised.

Recalled to attention, Lucius made a show of rolling his eyes, accepting the wineglass and taking a long swig. "Don't be ridiculous," he fired back. "There isn't anything to be nervous about."

"Only binding yourself irrevocably to one woman for the rest of your life." This time Lestrange sounded surly. He had been rebuffed in his attempts to convince Lucius to join him for "one last hurrah" the night before.

"For Salazar's sake, Rodolphus, I'm marrying the girl, not sewing her to my arm." Malfoy's hurrahed whenever they pleased- as demonstrated by his wretched father and the giggly redhead that he was currently "showing about the lawn".

Lucius stood and stretched, walking toward the window so that he could see the grounds. A little crowd was already beginning to gather amongst the roses.

"Are you ready to go down yet?" Lestrange asked, consulting his watch. "We only have twenty more minutes."

"You go ahead," Lucius said, waving his friend away, "I need to go back to my room."

"Making a break for it, Malfoy?" Sirius, (who had parlayed his role as errand boy into an excuse to linger in the smoking room with the men) asked with a wild grin.

His father gave him an arch look, to which the boy responded, "Well, I can hope, can't I?" but then wisely slipped back out of the room.

"I'll see you outside then," Rodolphus said with a shrug. "I want to find Bella anyhow."

Lucius followed his friend as far as the hallway, but then they parted ways. He had just reached the third floor landing when he saw Orion Black.

His soon-to-be father-in-law was pacing back and forth along the passageway, seemingly unaware of Lucius's arrival until good-manners, and the realization he couldn't pass unseen, forced the younger man to clear his throat and speak.

"Mr Black?" he drawled evenly. "Is something wrong?"

Orion Black stopped pacing for long enough to turn and glower at Lucius. "You're either stupid or impertinent Malfoy, and as I know that you are one of the cleverest wizards of your age, I shall assume the latter."

Lucius raised one cold eyebrow, and wondered if the ink had even dried on the cheque his father had signed that morning for a crate load of brand new tea towels - cashmere and embroidered with the Black family crest - for the Ravensden house elves. ("As if any of the wedding

guests would even see a house elf!" Julius had complained furiously, as he scored his signature onto the cheque with such force that he broke the nib of his quill.) Their money was good enough to squander, but their company was not good enough to tolerate. There was something intolerably haughty about the Blacks. Lucius suppose he should make allowances, the man was about to lose his daughter after all, if not in exactly the usual manner, then at least enough to chaff.

"You're worried about Narcissa," Lucius supplied, for once omitting the 'Miss'.

Orion finally stood still, his eyes flashed angrily. "I am worried about you Lucius," he snapped. "If you hurt my daughter, in any way, it will be the last thing you ever do. I won't care who you are, or whose family you belong to, or the size of your bank balance. I will simply kill you," he finished, his tone completely serious and deadly.

"I believe you think you would," Lucius nodded icily, staring back at the other wizard unblinkingly. "I also believe you would not be successful." Orion looked ready to reach for his wand and curse him on the spot, so Lucius added: "But I have absolutely no intention of hurting your daughter. She will have everything she needs- anything money can buy. She will want for nothing."

Orion shook his head sadly. "That won't be enough, but I believe you, when you say you think it will," he smirked sarcastically.

Lucius's eyes flashed dangerously. Who was Orion Black- a man who had squandered more money in the last week than he had probably seen in the five years beforehand- to lecture him about what money could buy? He would have said something to this effect, if not for the interrupting pop of a house-elf's arrival.

"Mistress bid me tell the Masters that they is ready," it squeaked self-importantly, then dropped to its knees, wrinkling the snowy cashmere.

"We ought to go then," Orion said, pausing and then waiting for Lucius to follow. Malfoy enjoyed the flash of worry in the older man's eyes as Lucius kept him waiting a moment too long- but he finally fell into step behind him and followed him outside of the house.

An enormous crowd was gathered in the Ravensden rose gardens. There had to be four hundred people, at least. He picked out some of the faces he knew: the Rosiers, the McNairs, the Batleys...even his mother had returned from France. Standing next to his father (who seemed to be paying Mrs. Malfoy more mind than the chit that had come as his date), she caught his eye and offered a small but approving smile. Every witch and wizard whose name appeared on the Avalon register, and plenty whose names did not were wedged into chairs arranged in neat white rows facing the little gazebo where Lucius had first met his future bride. Strewn with flowers, a little make-shift altar had been erected inside, and this is where Lucius went to stand.

Rodolphus Lestrange, who had been selected as Lucius's best man, was already standing near to the front. As soon as the men took their places a hush fell over the crowd.

Lucius had told his friend the truth- he wasn't nervous. However, becoming the sudden focus of attention made him feel uneasy and exposed. Happily, he did not hold the spotlight long. At a nod from Mrs. Black, an unseen orchestra began to play, and Bellatrix Black stepped out of her house clad in a scarlet dress. Lucius's eyes flicked over her coolly, and then he returned his attention to the crowd, continuing to identify friends and associates, but his gaze returned to the house when everyone stood.

Lucius sucked in his breath.

He was well aware of the cliché of grooms struck dumb by the sight of their brides, and disinclined to embody it- but he couldn't help it. Perhaps he had been taken unawares. Smugly certain that his lack of any serious attachment to Narcissa would immunize him to the sight, he hadn't taken any preparations to harden himself against it. It was a miscalculation of the highest degree.

It wasn't enough to say that she was beautiful. Bellatrix was beautiful. The flowers were beautiful. Narcissa was...Lucius struggled, but couldn't find a word to adequately capture her description. She was wearing a very simple white dress and had completely dispensed with a veil. Orange blossoms were in her hair, and were mingled with forget-me-nots in the bouquet she carried in her arms.

Lucius couldn't pry his eyes away. They remained locked on her image, drinking thirstily the sight of her lush, suspiciously curvy body and the golden ringlets of her upswept hair.

She looked older than usual- probably a clever combination of makeup and charms meant to prevent the company from asking awkward questions, but he was very fond of the effect. Perhaps even more pleasing than the girl's appearance was the way that she carried herself down the aisle. She had to feel the eyes on her skin- had to be feeling afraid and anxious and possibly angry as well, but she didn't show it. Shoulder's back, chin lifted, she perfectly executed their ruse. He could almost believe it himself: that Narcissa was a lovestruck girl who actually wanted to be walking toward him. Then, their eyes met, and he knew.

He knew that he was stealing from her every dream that she had ever dared to dream, crushing every hope and longing that she had ever cheerfully indulged in. He was taking everything, and giving nothing half so precious in return.

Lucius had never cared for the feeling of others, never worried about trampling them underfoot, but when Narcissa Black finally reached him at the altar, staring up at him with eyes so sad and blue, and old beyond their years, he knew... that he was wrong, that the wedding was wrong, that he could not punish Narcissa for the sins of her sister, but the realization had come too late, he could not free her now, he could not save her from himself.

..ooOOoo..

Narcissa was certain that she would remember nothing of her wedding ceremony save one moment. The very last moment. The Druid had just pronounced them man and wife, Narcissa had stared in a daze, wondering how that had come to pass so very quickly. She didn't feel any different. Surely she should feel changed somehow? And then she did feel it... because Lucius's lips had just touched her own. In a kiss so light and sweet it couldn't possible be real.

His mouth was on hers for only a second. It was a perfunctory display, done for their audience and nothing more. Narcissa didn't believe for one moment that Lucius would ever genuinely want to kiss her, but she felt a tug, a glorious warmth spread to the very tips of her fingers and toes nevertheless. And for that tiny spasm of time she had felt like a real bride instead of an actress in play.

Lucius had kept her glued to his side for longer than she had expected after the ceremony was over. Her mother had insisted on a very light open-air buffet, to show off the newly tended (and planted) gardens, followed later by a formal meal, to show off Ravensden's redecorated interior. But although Narcissa was in Lucius's constant presence she did not have an opportunity to speak with him privately.

In a way, she was glad; she had no idea what she would say to Lucius. Her husband. The words had strangely little effect upon Narcissa. They hadn't yet been ascribed a tangible meaning. No doubt Lucius would leave soon enough, and be out of her life almost entirely for the next two years. Narcissa couldn't explain why the thought of being left alone, or more particularly - left alone by Lucius - didn't make her feel more cheerful.

However, Narcissa's mind was forced to stop its wandering as it was abruptly recalled to the present when by her father's slightly raised voice. Narcissa sighed; she hadn't even realised he was speaking to Lucius. She seemed to be seeing everything through a thick mist, and frankly she couldn't wait for it to clear!

"You're not taking her anywhere, Malfoy." Orion Black was growling trying to keep his voice low.

"Do be sensible, Mr Black," Lucius drawled calmly. "It was you who decided to invite the entire Wizarding population of the Western hemisphere to this wedding. If you had kept this a low-key affair, as originally planned, we could have avoided it, but surely you understand that Narcissa and I must now go away on honeymoon?"

"You gave me your word, Malfoy." Orion countered in a low, shaking voice.

"I said that I wouldn't touch her until she's out of school." Lucius answered quite reasonably, "I haven't and I won't. Beyond that, our affairs are not your concern."

"She's my daughter!" Mr. Black countered, a twinge of desperation tangible in his voice.

"She's my wife." Lucius retorted and then, with an authority that sent a shiver down her spine announced, "We leave for Paris this evening. Please inform your staff to have Mrs. Malfoy's belongings ready. Now, if you will excuse me, I've left our guests too long."

Narcissa slipped into a curtained alcove until Lucius had passed, and then she went toward her father. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

"We" leave for Paris - surely she wasn't included in the 'we'? She paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at her and wondering at his odd behaviour. She had always been close with Orion Black. Acquaintances of her family often remarked on it-and expected that he would treat her with contempt: final evidence of his failure to produce a son and heir- but nothing was further from the truth. She had been her father's pet, coddled and spoiled as much as his means would stretch and, though his behavior of the last week might not have shown it devastated at the prospect of losing his little girl.

Unobserved, Narcissa took note of the deep lines of worry on his face, and the dejected slump of his back. Apparently desperation and adrenaline had carried him through the preceding days, because now that the blow was struck, all of his energy seemed to have left. He was deflated like an empty shell, and Narcissa felt another piece of her already fractured heart begin to break.

"Daddy?" Narcissa called quietly before stepping into the room.

He turned, made a brave effort to smile, and reached for her. "Narcissa," he answered brightly. "There you are. I was hoping I'd get to see you before....well- nevermind that now." He stepped forward and took both of her hands, holding them lightly as if they were about to step into a waltz, and looks his daughter up and down. "You look exquisite, petal," he said with a bittersweet sigh, "Such a little lady. I was proud of you."

"Thank you daddy," she replied, twirling around for him again, and then moving forward to give him a long, crushing hug.

"Make Mr. Malfoy be good to you, Cissa," he said in a hoarse tone, struggling to master his emotions.

"I will daddy," she replied, although she admitted to herself she wasn't sure this was possible- Mr. Malfoy did not strike her as the sort of man who was "made" to do anything.

She lingered in his embrace, not speaking for a while, but finally drew away. She wanted to ask him about Paris, and what Mr. Malfoy had meant, but couldn't work up the courage to admit that she'd been spying. "I suppose I should get back to the party."

"Yes," Mr. Black said, patting out the wrinkles in his robes. He sounded nervous when he continued, "Actually, before you do..." he hesitated, "You need to see your mother for a minute upstairs in your room."

"Can't it wait until after our guests leave, daddy?" she asked, subtly urging him to tell her what else was going on. He didn't mention anything about France, however.

"No, actually. It's...well, your mother will explain." From his looks, Mr. Black was heartily glad of this fact. "There's...er...something that she needs to explain to you."

"Of course, daddy," Narcissa answered warily. "I'll go up now?"

"Good, petal," Orion said, "I'll have the elves find her and send her up. Take care of yourself, petal. I love you."

"I love you too," Narcissa answered, but her blue eyes were narrowing in confusion. Her father was talking as if she was going away- he said that wouldn't happen for years and years! Surely he would have told her if there was something she should know...or was that for her mother to say? "I'll see you later?" she asked with a little bit of panic seeping into her voice.

"Of course, petal," Orion answered. Then he kissed her cheek and sent her on her way.

Narcissa climbed the stairs to her bedchamber in a state of agitation. Why was her father acting so strangely? True he had technically just married off his youngest daughter, but wasn't he the one who had assured her himself that nothing was going to change? She replayed their earlier conversations in her mind, reassuring herself that this was the case- she wasn't meant to move to the Malfoy's until after she was finished with school...Malfoy's mother lived in France. Perhaps they were going to visit her? Narcissa had barely had the chance to see her at the wedding. Yes, that must be it. The term "honeymoon" was just a turn of phase. Lucius was going to take her to see his French relatives, and then he would bring her home. The explanation soothed her nerves. Nevertheless, he heart nearly stopped when she opened the door to her room and found the floor littered with boxes and trunks.

She was still staring at the luggage when the door behind her eased open.

"Narcissa?" It was her mother's voice.

The young bride swung around. "Mama? What- what's going on?" she demanded.

Mrs. Black stepped forward and patted her hand in a soothing gesture. "I needed to speak with you, Narcissa," she said quietly. "There's...been something of a change in plans...

"What kind of change in plans?" Narcissa asked quickly, a clutch of panic seizing her.

"Why don't you come and sit down with me on the bed, Narcissa?" Mrs Black asked. Her voice sounded a little strained. She led her daughter across the room, still holding her hand. "It seems Mr Malfoy wants to take you to Paris," she said, forcing a brittle smile, as if in an attempt to seem pleased about the news.

Narcissa nodded woefully, she had already pieced together as much. "But we won't be gone long?" she asked nervously.

"No," Mrs Black assured her slowly, dragging the tiny word out for as long as possible. "No, you won't be gone long, but- um- well-" she stammered to an inelegant halt, before blurting: "I thought I should prepare you for spending time alone with your new husband."

"But, I've been alone with Mr Malfoy before," Narcissa murmured hesitantly, not quite understanding her mother, and certainly not understanding the way she nearly leapt off the bed looking absolutely scandalised, but when she noticed the look of complete pure innocence on her daughter's face Mrs Black calmed down a fraction, and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"I meant a more- a more personal kind of alone, Narcissa dear," she said awkwardly. Narcissa frowned, but then her eyebrows raised so high that they were almost lost in her hairline. "Mr Malfoy has promised not to- not to behave inappropriately towards you," Mrs Black
continued, struggling to find words she deemed suitably inoffensive. "But he is a man, and men you know, are not like us."

Narcissa was nearly the same shade of red as her sister's bridesmaid dress. She was very tempted to blurt out that she knew men were different, the girls at school were hardly coy about such things, but then she would have to explain to her mother how she knew, and Narcissa thought it might be slightly less painful to listen to her mother's little talk.

"You see, men are driven by more- by more primal urges, and once they are in a state of- um, ugh..."

Narcissa quickly decided it would be more painful to listen to her mother's talk.

"Mama," she said softly, "I know what happens between a man and a woman."

"You do?" Mrs Black first looked shocked, and then rather relieved; she didn't for a second image Narcissa had firsthand knowledge. "Well, I must say that's a relief," she almost mustered a smile.
"Now, when the time comes, try not to be afraid. I'm sure Mr Malfoy will keep his word, you are so young after all, but I-"

"Afraid?" Narcissa whispered with a little start. She hadn't been afraid. She was nervous and more than a little curious, perhaps, but never afraid. Everyone she had heard talking about the intimacies of marriage seemed to speak of it as a pleasurable activity.

"It shouldn't hurt too terribly badly, Cissa. Not if you're quite calm and relaxed." Her mother squeezed her hand reassuringly, but then added with a harsh little snort: "I'm sure Mr Malfoy will have plenty of experience and know just what to do." She flushed afterwards, and gave a little cough. "Well, shall we finish packing?"

Narcissa nodded, but her stomach felt like it was somewhere in her feet. Rather than set her mind at ease, as was what she assumed her mother had been trying to do, Mrs Black had only succeeded in working Narcissa up into a state of nervous agitation. It was going to hurt? And from what her mother had said, Lucius was liable to snap and pounce on her at any given second! Well, she simply wouldn't give him the chance, Narcissa swore, she'd make sure she kept him at a safe distance!