Chapter Seven
Transition
The rest of the week passed in pleasant companionship, so that Narcissa was disappointed when it was time to return to home.
"When will I see you again, Lucius?" she asked as they awaited their portkeys- hers to Ravensden Hall, and his to carry him back to Wiltshire.
"Christmas time, I suppose," he said in a distant tone, trying not to sound affected as he planted a feathery good-bye kiss on her cheek and handed her the envelope that would carry her home. "I could meet you in Hogsmeade for your birthday, if you would like."
"Could you?" Narcissa asked breathlessly. Her eyes, which had been inexplicably downcast, brightened considerably.
Lucius looked mildly surprised by her enthusiasm, and fought off the urge to smile. It would never do for her to think that he would answer her every beck and call. Still, he couldn't deny- to himself at least- that he thoroughly enjoyed the burst of sunshine that broke across her pretty face.
"That is…only if you're not busy," Narcissa continued quickly. She had seemed to sense his surprise and considered herself to have over stepped some unwritten mark. "I wouldn't want to be a bother. I'm sure Christmas will do just as well," she assured him, as she forced her face to assume a smile she did not feel.
Christmas was months and months away! She had only known Lucius, if it could really be called that, for all of a week, but the thought of being separated from him for such a very long time was doing strange things to her heart.
"Narcissa, I wouldn't have offered to come if I thought it would prove to be a problem," Lucius declared her carelessly. "I'm sure I can spare my wife an afternoon on her birthday." He gave her an almost paternal pat on the hand.
Narcissa felt deflated. Wasn't he even a little sorry to see her go? She supposed that she lacked his charisma- because he was certainly charismatic when he chose to be. Perhaps, if only she had been given a little longer, been a little older, she would have been able to have had as large an impact on his life as he was proving to have on hers?
Narcissa sighed sadly; she rather thought that Lucius would get back to his home and forget she even existed. She would be filed away neatly under 'w' for 'wife' and only brought out only for special occasions, her birthday (just about) being one of them apparently.
"May I write to you?" she asked suddenly, unaware of even having thought the question, let alone having instructed her tongue to form it. Narcissa wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Lucius looked so taken aback that he was actually momentary speechless.
"Your… father might not like that," he said at length. Quite sure Orion Black wouldn't like it – the arrangement had been that Lucius would leave Narcissa well alone until she left Hogwarts. He might be legally her husband, but he was not yet to have any real role in her life. And yet… what could a few letters hurt? "But-"
"Oh," Narcissa said, at precisely the same moment Lucius began to make his counterclaim. "No, of course. I'm sorry. It was a silly thing to ask."
"No it-" Lucius began hurriedly, but Narcissa was already preparing to use her portkey. Escape - her key objective.
"I'll see you in October," she said brightly, too brightly, attempting everything she could think of to prevent him from speaking and proving again what a foolish little girl she really was. She even stood on tiptoes and brushed a kiss against his cheek before clasping her portkey and vanishing.
Lucius stared, slightly dazed, at the spot his wife had been standing in just a moment beforehand. His head began to throb painfully. That was certainly not how he had wanted the week to end!
..ooOOoo..
It was less than two months after cousin Lyra's fateful wedding when Narcissa finally went to London to catch the train for school, but for all the changes that had happened in her life, it might as well have been twenty years.
She was Lucius Malfoy's wife. At least, that was what the tapestry proclaimed. Downstairs, in the shining and freshly papered entry hall, a strand of golden thread linked his name to her own, glittering proudly next to a scorched patch that all of Orion and Aunt Black's scourgifying charms couldn't wash away. If not for this tangible evidence, and the heavy diamond- Andromeda's diamond- settled on her left hand, she might have wondered if it was all a dream.
Her daily life was just as it ever was, precisely as Lucius and her father had promised, and in spite of how she had hoped this would be. Still, she couldn't help feeling a little…what? Narcissa asked herself. Disappointed? Surprised? Cheated felt closest to the truth. She hadn't heard a word from Lucius since her departure from Paris. Julius Malfoy had written to her father to protest the addition of a Japanese rock garden to the formal lawns ("Well, I suppose they think they have us now, don't they?" her father had remarked bitterly at dinner that night) and to detail Narcissa's allowance for the coming year ("A pittance!" Mrs. Black had scoffed, though it was easily fifty times what Narcissa had been allowed before). Her Aethonon was returned as soon as the stables were ready without so much as a note. Narcissa didn't even know if she could expect Lucius for her birthday or not.
Nevertheless, in spite of how wondering made each day stretch out like an eternity, 1st September finally arrived. She had been in London for the better part of the week, spending some of the "pittance" that the Malfoys had afforded her on schoolbooks, new uniforms, and robes. The Malfoys had covered her tuition for the year as well and, rather than saving the money, her father and mother presented her with a new, dragonskin and cypress travelling trunk.
Narcissa went to the station alone, no longer needing or desiring her mother and father to drop her at the train. She made it to platform 9 ¾ with plenty of time to spare, and found a compartment near the front where she settled in with a novel she had taken from the library at home.
Her solitude was short-lived, however. It was only a few minutes before a few of the other sixth year Slytherin girls hurried into her compartment and settled onto the bench beside her.
"Narcissa Black!" Olivia Ogrevy exclaimed, bursting noisily through the wood and glass door.
A second girl, Violet Sharp, stumbled in after her. "Narcissa Malfoy, you mean!"
Narcissa had always numbered the pair of them among her "friends"- though for Narcissa, that status had never held a particularly lofty meaning. It meant that she shared a dormitory with them at school, suffered their company at meals, and occasionally went off with them to a Quidditch match or into town. The trio had been inseparable as little girls, but distance had formed with time- in spite of how clearly Olivia and Violet were trying to insinuate themselves to her now.
She tried to feign attention in her book as Olivia elbowed close. "Well?" the girl asked. "How was it?"
Narcissa looked up, arching a perfect brow. "It?" she inquired.
"Paris!" Olivia said with exasperation.
"MALFOY!" Violet exclaimed, then the pair of them dissolved into twittering giggles that made Narcissa's cheeks begin to flush.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she said haughtily and turned a page of her novel.
Olivia and Violet exchanged a disbelieving look. "You don't want to tell, you mean," Miss Ogrevy snapped in annoyance. "That's not fair, Cissa."
"Yeah!" Violet, a pug-faced, dark-haired girl said squirming closer. "We want to hear everything!"
"Yes. Everything." Olivia emphasized, then the pair of them started laughing again.
Narcissa closed her book in disgust. "There really isn't anything to tell!" she insisted, but it was clear that they did not believe her.
"Was it wonderful, Narcissa?" Violet asked dreamily. "Was it embarrassing?"
"Well, you should know," the young Mrs. Malfoy retorted harshly. Charles Parkinson, Violet's (now ex) boyfriend had put it all over school that he'd had her in a broom closet the winter before- and she'd done nothing to contradict the rumours until after she'd been dumped.
"It must have been wonderful," Olivia said in a tone of great authority. "We've seen him, after all." At this, both of them gave a longing sigh.
Narcissa's first instinct was to frown- entirely displeased that they would carry on so about her husband. Then she went distracted as her mind cast back to the first morning in Paris- to the water droplets clinging to Lucius's chest when he had walked out of the bath clad only in a towel…
She wasn't aware that she was staring until Olivia and Violet started laughing again. She turned her eyes skyward, and muttered a prayer that they would find something else to talk about. Her wish was granted a moment later.
"Oi! Look!" Violet said in a breathy whisper. All three of the girls fell silent as Byron McKeenon, Ravenclaw Keeper, walked past their coach.
He was a seventh year now, a year ahead of the girls. Tall, dark blue eyed and perfectly muscled- he'd been sending the trio swoony since second year. Narcissa thought her heart would stop when he paused outside their door.
"Hullo Narcissa," he said in a casual voice, poking his head inside the compartment. "You're looking well this year," he continued shyly. "Have a good summer?"
She didn't get a chance to answer. "'Of course she had a good summer, are you thick?" Olivia snapped.
When Byron's face betrayed confusion, Violet happily supplied the rest. "She got married three weeks ago, didn't you hear? She's Narcissa Malfoy now."
He hadn't heard.
Narcissa felt her heart fall to her feet as she watched the emotions scroll across his impossibly handsome face: shock, disappointment, and then a flicker of disgust. "Oh," he puffed, clearly put out. "I hadn't. Congratulations." Then he left without saying goodbye.
Violet sighed wistfully. "I think he's sweet on you Cissa," she supplied unhelpfully. "But it's too late now."
"Maybe he'll fancy you now, Vy?" Olivia countered, cackling gleefully, not seeing the sudden look of desolation on Narcissa's face.
Narcissa felt…hollow. She didn't think that she had faced before the enormity of what had happened- the cataclysmic change. She had waited for Byron McKeenon to notice her for FOUR years. Now that he finally did, it was too late!
She would never go on a Hogsmeade visit with anyone else. Narcissa felt a pang at the realization. She would never sneak off to the Astronomy tower, or pass notes in class ever again. Her life, as she had known it, was over.
"You still fancy Charlie, don't you?" Olivia continued teasing Violet mercilessly. Ordinarily Narcissa would have put a stop to it, if only to have some peace, but she was too focused on herself. The sense of loss was suddenly overwhelming. It shouldn't really matter that she couldn't have Byron. Lucius did just as well…only she didn't have Lucius either. Olivia and Violet expected that Lucius had claimed his marital rights. Narcissa had expected him to try- only he hadn't. He didn't seem to really want her at all.
The rest of the train ride crawled past. It seemed like days later when they finally reached the castle. Then the Sorting feast lingered, and finally ended with Narcissa retiring to her dorm. She wanted peace and solitude, but it was not easy to come by. Her housemates spent hours sorting through the wonderful new clothes and baubles packed inside her trunk, and then wheedling her for information they assumed that she was too coy to provide. It was after midnight when they finally went to bed, but Narcissa remained awake. Surrounded by girls she had known almost half her life, she had never felt so alone. She wished Lucius was there. Did he even still remember that she existed?
..ooOOoo..
He wanted to see her.
Lucius rather thought the very fact that he had a desire to see his young wife was ample reason to deny the urge. He wasn't meant to fall in love with her. She was so young that lust wasn't even acceptable. He had claimed her friendship- and friends was what they were meant to remain. Distant friends, he decided prudently. In spite of his resolve, he found it difficult to rid Narcissa from his thoughts. He needed a distraction desperately.
It wasn't too long before he got his wish.
The Malfoys had always been useful to the Dark Lord. Even charismatic, visionary wizards needed money- something that the Malfoys had in spades. While they were welcome to funnel their galleons into the Pureblood cause, they were never invited to the inner circle- until Lucius wed Narcissa.
Grudgingly, Lucius supposed it made sense. If one's primary agenda was founded on the proposition that Pureblooded wizards were superior, it made sense to surround one's self with the purest of the pure. Nevertheless, it was vexing when, in consequence, Lucius found himself excluded. He felt no compunction abusing his grandfather's name- and the name of the little Irish bitch in question- with the very darkest aspirations and the blackest curse, as it was through their notorious behaviour that his bloodline could not be proved. He knew that he was pure- but that knowledge was not enough for the Dark Lord until his marriage to Miss Black.
"This alliance pleases me, young Malfoy." Lord Voldemort had said in a soft, oily voice that sent prickles up and down Lucius's spine. "You must have a chance to prove your worth."
It was barely a week after that first meeting when Lucius had received a summons- and his life had never been the same.
He had never killed before.
He knew that the Death Eaters did. He knew that it was necessary. He didn't feel that it was particularly wrong, but he had never felt the hot blood of another man running over his fingers before that first, fateful night. He had never felt fear, surging through every vein in his body before Apparating to a safe point as the Dark Mark glowed eerily in the sky above. He'd never felt the tension of waiting, ears craned, through an endless, starless night for Aurors who never arrived.
He never did manage to feel guilt.
His assignment had been to kill a Muggle family who lived in a London house. He was not informed of their crime. Truly, he doubted they had committed one, besides being born without wizarding blood. He had been given a test- kill the Muggles without using your wand- they were simply a means to that end.
He passed, of course. His young wife had been right when she had mused over Bellatrix's information months before: Lucius never played a game that he couldn't win. He didn't attempt to join Lord Voldemort's inner circle without knowing- or thinking that he knew- what that allegiance would cost. It was a gory business- but achieving power often was, and he wanted to be powerful. He wanted to quiet every tongue that had whispered "Halfblood" behind his father's back, or who had ever insinuated that Lucius's money had bought the only respectability that the Malfoys had.
He didn't think of Narcissa.
It wasn't that he didn't want to. Quite the contrary. He simply didn't want her tainted by the things he did. The memory of their week in Paris- the happy, free, joy of companionship that they had shared- was like a treasure tucked inside a box. It didn't matter how dirty and twisted the rest of his heart became. She was safe as long as he kept her tucked inside.
He killed the Muggles.
A week later, he killed another wizard and his wife.
The week after that, he received a visit from Mordecai and Rodolphus Lestrange. "Our friend requests your company for dinner." The elder Lestrange had announced while his son remained stonily silent. "Could you join us?"
"My father-"
"Was not extended an invitation," Mordecai finished almost as soon as the words had formed. "Bring your wand," he said, and then twisted and Apparated away.
That was the night he had taken the mark.
Lucius stared at it, rubbing the blackened flesh for a moment before turning his attention to the envelope in his lap.
The letter was nondescript enough: cream parchment with a green wax pressed in the shape of a pair of writhing snakes. It could have come from any Slytherin- only Lucius knew that it hadn't. He recognized the seal. It had come from the Dark Lord himself.
Inside, written in a tidy, economical script, were instructions for the night of October 9th. He was to join Rodolphus and another man. Lucius's eyes skimmed over the rest of the commands: Murder, torture…He accepted the orders calmly, already growing numb to the carnage- but then he remembered. The ninth was Narcissa's birthday. He felt the first real surge of emotion that he'd allowed himself to feel almost since they'd returned from France. He'd have to cancel their date.
It was for the best. Lucius tried to console himself with this thought. He had been looking forward to seeing her again too much. Probably, the Dark Lord had known. It was another test- and Lucius was in too deep to back out now. He could send Narcissa a rain check- or perhaps only a brief excuse? It was rapidly becoming apparent that Orion Black was right. It would be better if they were out of contact completely, at least until Narcissa finished school.
Trying to ignore the disappointment that he felt, Lucius wrote an owl. He sent it to the school, along with instructions from their jeweller to send a gift on his behalf. It would have to be enough- at least, it was all that Lucius was willing to risk.
..ooOOoo..
Narcissa considered skipping breakfast on the morning of her birthday. Clearly, she wasn't going to eat a bite. An entire week of expecting, then hoping, and finally praying for an owl from her husband had worked her nerves to a fever pitch. He'd promised to meet her in Hogwarts that day. Had he forgotten? Had he changed his mind? Both possibilities filled her with disappointment. Then she remembered that breakfast was when the owls delivered the post. She supposed that the Malfoy's eagle owl had the sense to find its way to the dungeons if it didn't discover her at the meal, but she couldn't bear to wait even the extra second more. She roused herself and went down to eat.
She could have wept in relief when the dark, sleek bird swooped out of the sky and dropped a package at her plate. The little box hit the table with a satisfying thump, and she struggled not to smile as she ripped the packaging away. The conversation around her halted abruptly as she revealed the distinctive purple box of a purchase from Cullinan & Hope – premier dealers in cursed and exceptional gems. The silence
transformed to gasps of amazement as she lifted the lid away. Inside was an exquisite necklace. Strung onto a blue velvet ribbon was a pendant the size of an egg. At its centre was a pale blue diamond. Fanning out in six directions were smaller, white diamond and platinum branches forming a delicate, glittering snowflake shape.
"Cissa its gorgeous!" Olivia breathed in awe-struck admiration.
"It's from Lucius, isn't it?" Violet added a second later.
Narcissa hadn't read the card, but she felt certain that it was. Who else would send her such an extravagant present? She had never owned anything like it. Skin glowing with pleasure, she turned to read the note.
Abruptly, her rapture faded.
"Dear Narcissa,
Please forgive the fact that I am unable to deliver your present
in person. As you sagely anticipated, I regret that business detains
me in town. I trust that you will have a pleasant birthday.
Kindest Regards,
Lucius Malfoy."
"Narcissa, is something wrong?" Olivia asked, noting her friend's abrupt change of expression. "You're looking pale."
"I think…I think that breakfast didn't agree with me," Narcissa lied, trusting her empty-headed friends not to notice that she hadn't had a bite. "I think I'd better go back to bed. Will you get my Arithmancy assignment from Professor Abacus?"
"Of course."
Narcissa barely waited for a reply before she hurried out of the great hall and threaded back down into the dungeons and her room. Breakfast wasn't what had upset her, but her stomach was truly churning. Lucius wasn't coming! Was it possible that he had never intended to come at all? If he had, what accounted for the change?
It was possible that he was truly busy. An internal voice that sounded worryingly like Andromeda lectured as Narcissa finally made it to her bed. She tried to listen as she yanked her curtains closed, but tears were already pricking at her eyes. But he said he'd be able to take the afternoon off. She reminded herself. He had said surely he could spare an afternoon for his wife? Except he hadn't, and wouldn't.
It was probably another woman.
This voice sounded like Olivia. It was just the sort of gossipy warning that her "friend" would like to give if Narcissa ever dared to confide her fears. It had taken Olivia and Vy the full first month of school to believe that Narcissa wasn't pregnant after all- they would be anxious for a new scandal.
Well, who could blame him if he'd taken a lover? He certainly wasn't attached to her. Another woman- an older woman could give him what he wanted. She doubted this new, nameless witch, would ever let him sleep in a tub!
Bitter tears were already flowing down Narcissa's cheeks, but they fell harder as her imagination embroidered the tale. No, Lucius had not been made to sleep in the tub. He had slept very comfortably in the older witch's bed (Narcissa guessed it didn't hurt for tarts- Celia Makewand didn't seem to mind any of the things she apparently did with Remington Flint in the Potions Storeroom). She had probably offered to keep him entertained for the afternoon, and Lucius had wisely chosen the most attractive way to spend the day. He had sent his silly young wife a trifle- a bauble to tie around her neck- but he probably hadn't even picked it out himself. He had probably offered it to the older witch first, but she didn't like it, and they had sent it on.
Narcissa turned her watery gaze to the necklace, still sitting in its posh purple box, looking obscenely expensive, but not seeming to glitter as bright. It occurred to Narcissa that the necklace was a lot like her: a pretty thing that had cost the Malfoy's a lot of money- kept tucked away until a party or ball merited its presence.
She knew that she was acting unreasonably. Lucius was behaving no differently than she ought, but she wept inconsolably all the same. She didn't appear for any of her classes, and was still lying in her bed when their head of house came to bring her other presents, and to inform her that she was being transferred to another room.
Apparently the Malfoys, unlike other mere mortals (or even the lofty Blacks and Rookwoods who were nevertheless compelled to share the communal dorm) required chambers of their own. Narcissa had been vaguely aware of this before. She had assumed her husband's personal bedroom was attributable to his status as head boy, but it appeared that his great grandfather (of Irish lover fame) had donated a sizable endowment to the restricted section of the Hogwart's library and, in consequence, his progeny had been extended special quarters in recognition of this gift. In less than an hour Narcissa's things had been transferred: taken from the bland but cosy chamber that she had shared with the other Slytherin Sixth Year girls and moved to a compact but elegant suite near the Common Room door.
Narcissa had not noticed the room before. This was not unusual as the entrance was hidden behind a tapestry of writhing snakes. Only someone looking for the doorway, or exploring the Common Room very thoroughly would ever know of its existence. It's ceiling was very low, and it was no more than 12 feet on any side, but it was elegantly decorated, and very warm. A personal fireplace (connected to the floo) was at the centre of the room. Along the left hand wall, there was a doorway to a private bath.
After Narcissa was installed, she was left alone again. She had lost track of time, but the clock beside the bed read that it was after six o'clock. She supposed she should go to dinner, but she still wasn't hungry yet. Instead she rearranged her things. Then, she climbed into her bed. She knew it was crazy. Lucius hadn't been here for more than five years and everything was immaculately clean, but she would have sworn that the sheets and blankets still retained the smell of his cologne. He seemed everywhere around her- but he wasn't. He wasn't even close.
..ooOOoo..
The last days of Indian Summer waned into autumn, and then autumn passed into ice and snow. Narcissa barely noticed the changes as she absorbed herself in lessons.
"I don't know why you bother," Olivia exclaimed, rolling her eyes as Narcissa professed an intention to spend yet another starry winter night closeted in her room to "read ahead for Advanced Transfigurations" and get a start on a Potion Pharmacology essay that wasn't due until after break. "It isn't as if it matters how many NEWTs you get. You'll never have to work."
Violet nodded sagely. "You're letting the best years of your life pass you by and slip away."
Narcissa's friends failed to realize that those years were already spent. She could join them on the Quidditch pitch, or in the Common Room playing exploding Snap, but she could never recapture the innocence of her youth.
Malfoy hadn't even touched her, but he had marked her in a way that she couldn't define. Byron McKennon never looked at her now. None of the boys did. It was like the rings on her finger were brands, warning other men away. It wasn't that she wanted any of them- Circe knew that all the kisses she had ever given behind the tapestries in the third floor hallway, or behind the gameskeeper's hut (And Narcissa recalled smugly that she had certainly given her share!)- had never compared to the slightest brush from Lucius Malfoy's lips, but it was the knowledge that they were beyond her grasp that stung. It seemed fitting to Narcissa that she was closeted in a personal room. She felt otherwise so completely apart from her peers.
None of it would have mattered if Lucius had only flooed, or perhaps come to visit her once. Narcissa didn't know why that should be. It wouldn't change the fact that she would remain marooned at Hogwarts still- in the school but not of it- but it mattered for reasons she couldn't fully explain. Perhaps she needed to know that her sacrifice was worth it, but reassurance never came. Night after night she studied by candlelight until her eyes refused to stay focused, and then slipped into dreamless sleep, keeping treacherous thoughts at bay only with the power of exhaustion.
She couldn't fight her thoughts forever.
All too soon, it was time for the holidays. Narcissa received a Christmas card stamped with the Malfoy seal, but Lucius hadn't signed it. Her mother informed her that he had sent word. He was spending the holidays with his mother in France, and wouldn't think of asking them to spare their little girl.
"Wasn't that thoughtful?" Mrs. Black asked. The gift she had received from the Malfoy's- a rope of exquisite Tahitian pearls- seemed to have gone far in reforming her opinion toward her son-in-law.
Narcissa was happy to be home, truly she was, but she was frustrated all the same. A pall seemed to hang over everyone. Her cousin Sirius had run away. He had refused his parent's summons to return home for Christmas and announced that he was going to live with James Potter, his friend. Another blast had marred the Tapestry near Narcissa's sister's name.
It was the primary topic of conversation at the Black's annual Christmas Ball, and Narcissa was grateful to Sirius in a way. It kept her from having to explain to friends and family why her husband was abroad. She passed the remainder of the holidays helping to plan her sister's wedding.
Narcissa noted, rather sullenly, that wedding planning couldn't possibly be as difficult as Bellatrix made it seem. If the font of the invitations was so crucially important that they should be made to endure hours of debate on the merits of serif versus sans-serif fonts, then it was truly a miracle that they had made it through Narcissa's wedding unscathed. As she recalled it, she had only jabbed her finger at the first page that held any appeal, and the parchments had arrived the following day. No one had ever mentioned the invitations again, and she didn't recall their typeface herself.
"I think you're jealous, Cissa," Bellatrix had snapped, and Narcissa had scowled at her in return. She certainly didn't envy her sister's impending marriage. She certainly wished that she had never been made to get married at all.
The holidays finally ended. Narcissa returned to Hogwarts with the presents from her family and a fur lined cloak and muff, earrings to match her birthday necklace, and an enchanted Limogès teapot from her husband who was still in France.
She assumed that he liked the volume of Egyptian curses and curse breaking, and the new cravats that she had sent, but she never heard a single word.
Gradually, Narcissa grew used to the silence. At least, after Easter break, she ceased to expect that any word from her husband would arrive. He didn't even bother to excuse his absence during the summer, although she had always expected to pass those months at home. Bellatrix's wedding was on Midsummer's Eve: an enormous affair, which Lucius also skipped (which Narcissa found inexcusable when Rodolphus Lestrange had been his own best man!). Then her sister was gone as well, and she planned to pass the summer days alone with books.
Her quiet routine was shattered a few weeks later by a small announcement in the Daily Prophet. In the "Births" section on page fifteen it appeared : "To Mr. Theodore Tonks and Mrs. Andromeda (Black) Tonks, a daughter, Nymphadora Thumbilina Tonks, 7 pounds 4 oz.". That very afternoon, the name had emerged on the tapestry beneath the char. It was blasted off immediately, of course, but it sent her mother swooning again. Narcissa spent the rest of the summer soothing her alternately furious and desolate mum. She was relieved when September arrived again.
There was nothing from Malfoy Manor until her allowance appeared. She had received an increase ("A bonus for good behaviour?" she thought bitterly), wishes from Julius for a pleasant semester, and nothing more.
This year, when Christmas came, Lucius was not in France, but he did not make a visit to her house.
"They've been busy," Orion said, casting a worried glance across the table with her mother. "It's…the cause," he said warily, and Narcissa knew better than to ask any more.
Of course, she suspected that Lucius was involved with the Death Eaters. She didn't suppose that her father would ever let her marry someone who didn't share the "right ideas", no matter how badly they needed the money, but it had never occurred to her that he was actively supporting Lord Voldemort's campaign. The thought made her nervous. The wizarding world was at war. She didn't want Lucius caught in the front lines.
Every morning the paper brought new words on the casualties of the war- of suspected plots and suspected members. Every day after her father's mention of Lucius's association, Narcissa began to scan the Prophet religiously for some clue of what was going on.
She was terrified by what she read. Not a day seemed to pass without a new murder or torture, or some new threat. She appreciated that it was necessary- but she was frightened all the same. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the attack. Of course, Muggle-lovers and half-bloods could expect trouble. But there were wizarding folk being targeted as well. Some of Narcissa's friends in Slytherin had lost fathers, mothers, brothers…
And then it all hit home.
If Narcissa had been disturbed by the knowledge that Lucius was a Death Eater, the proof of her father's own involvement was an even harsher shock. She had no reason to be surprised. Orion Black had always been one of the pillars of the Knights of Walpurgis. Anyone of the "right sort of people" knew that this was another term for Voldemort's cabal, but she had never pictured her father- the gentle man whose hands had once rocked her to sleep, and whose wand had healed her skinned knees- actually carrying out their deeds. She wished that she had never known, but Fate did not agree.
It was after midnight on Christmas morning, but Narcissa was not asleep. She supposed, if she had been a child, she might have been lying awake for Father Christmas, but the truth was, she was fighting her thoughts. She was wondering where Lucius was, and if he were happy and safe- if he even remembered her or thought about her anymore- when she heard the front door open and close, and then footsteps in the hall.
The back of her neck prickled as silence refilled the house. Whoever had entered was being deliberately silent- and they certainly hadn't knocked on the door or called the elves! Narcissa slipped out of bed, drawing her dressing gown around her shoulders and then fumbling for her wand. She held it like a sword as she inched her way toward the door.
No burglar could ever enter Ravensden Hall. The wards that protected it were too powerful and too complete. She supposed it could be Bellatrix, or Rodolphus who had entered- they could come and go without setting off alarms- but she knew that they were both abroad. That left only those with malicious intent- and Narcissa didn't have to wonder too long whom they might be.
Her father had done something wrong.
Narcissa was struck with thought like a heavy blow against her chest. She had always worried about her father's prominence among the Death Eaters. She'd always thought it was a mistake. He was too Visible, too obviously a target, and too vulnerable if things went wrong. Were they about to pay for that miscalculation?
Panic began to spread through her veins like an icy frost, but she tried to fight it off. She repeated the spells that she had learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts and tried to calm her nerves, stepping silently toward the door.
Only one person was in the house. At least, when she strained her ears, she heard only one set of footsteps, and one echo of breathing in the hall. The person moved toward the staircase, squeaking quietly closer with every step.
Narcissa felt like she would faint as she crouched behind her door. She tightened her grip on her wand until her knuckles were tight. "Stupify…" she puffed out with every breath, though she doubted that the spell would be enough to do more against a full fledged Death Eater than give her time to rouse the house. "Stupify… Stupify…."
She peered through the doorway. In the Narrow crack that was open she saw a long black robe and the ghostly pallor of a plain white mask.
Narcissa's heart seemed to stop.
Then, a jolt of courage touched her spine. She jumped to her feet, adrenaline surging as she jumped forward with her wand.
"STUPIFY!" she screamed, sending a bolt of light whizzing through the hall. The figure started, drawing its own wand…and ducked away.
Narcissa crumpled as she realized her volley had missed. There was a steaming hole in the wall where her spell had hit, but the Death Eater had not been touched. Its wand was raised. Amazingly, it didn't strike.
Barely believing her luck, Narcissa lifted her wand again. Her throat was so dry she wondered if she would be able to speak, but she never got a chance to try.
"Petal, don't!" the figure said. She nearly dropped her wand in surprise as the mask was stripped away.
It was her father.
"Orion?"
Narcissa's mother had been roused by the spell. She ran through the house, her long blonde hair flying free of its braid as she rushed toward her husband. She put her hand over her mouth and gasped. Only then did Narcissa notice that he was covered in blood.
"Daddy?" she asked in a quavering tone, but he was ignoring her in favour of her mother.
"Is it…it isn't…?" Mrs. Black asked, her body beginning to shake.
Orion seemed to understand the question. "Yes," he nodded. "It's over. It's done."
Narcissa didn't understand what they were saying, and didn't know why her mother had to be carried back to bed. The next morning, however, it was obvious.
"Pureblood Heir Murdered!" The Christmas Morning Prophet blared. "Regulus Black, Suspected Death Eater, found dead."
Christmas was cancelled.
Narcissa spent the day in her room, barely able to think. Her cousin was dead. It seemed likely that her father had killed him- or at least been part of the plan. Voldemort had touched even the Blacks. Was anything safe anymore?
The very last of her innocence was stripped away, and she didn't know where to turn. Her mother and aunt were in the parlour, wrapped up between themselves, alternately screaming and crying and not knowing what or how to feel. Her father was locked in his study. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had not arrived, which meant that Narcissa was left alone.
She wanted Lucius- needed Lucius. She didn't even know why she still wanted him- why she still trusted him when he had forsaken her for so long, but he had promised to be her friend, and she needed a friend so desperately now!
"Come to me!" She had never been much of a legilimens, but she prayed for skill, sending the thought out with all her might to wherever her husband might be. "Come to me, Lucius." She broadcast. "Come to me. Save me. Hold me." But it was for naught.
Regulus was buried the next day, in a little grave apart from the rest, and she returned to school still alone.
Spring term brought with it the NEWT exams, and Narcissa passed every test. She smirked at the shock on the faces of her friends- they had only ever thought of her as a silly blonde. Still, it was to be expected, she had done nothing but study for the past two years. At least she had something to show for it.
No one had mentioned what would happen now that her schooling was through. Narcissa had always understood that she would go to Malfoy Manor, but the topic had not been broached, and Lucius had still failed to send a letter or note. The suspense was as maddening as it had ever been, but at least it didn't hurt as much as it had before.
Narcissa had changed in the last two years, mentally as well as physically. Her body was different, of course, but that barely drew her notice. No one looked at her anymore- but she was very conscious of the change in her mind. She had grown inward. She was no longer the uncertain little girl who had married Lucius Malfoy too years ago. She was more introspective now- but so much stronger than she had been before.
She didn't cry when she brought her bags to the station and bade farewell to some of her friends for the very last time.
"You will write to me, Cissa?" squealed Violet Sharp, who had recaptured her Charlie and would be Violet Parkinson before summer's end.
Narcissa was noncommittal. "Perhaps," was all she would say.
Most of the graduates were taking Portkeys, or Apparating back to their homes, but Narcissa hadn't yet sat for her licence, and decided to take the train. She miniaturized her numerous belongings, and packed them into her trunk, sitting in a compartment alone for the whole long way back to town.
King's Cross Station was noisy and bustling with life. Narcissa waited for the younger children to step off the train before she wrestled her own trunk off the shelf and ported it onto the platform where she scanned the crowd for someone she knew, a little depressed, but rather unsurprised, when she saw no one there to greet her.
Of course, she hadn't expected Lucius to be there to meet her, which was not to say that a tiny, traitorous sliver of her heart had not secretly longer for it, but his absence was hardly unusual. Narcissa wondered bitterly if she would even recognise her husband when she did finally see him! That fateful day could not be too much further away, surely?
Her parents however, she had expected to see. They hadn't troubled themselves with taking her to the station at the beginning of the school term or picking her up at its end for a couple of years, but this was her last year, the last time any of their children would ever be getting off the Hogswart Express. She knew things were not as they had been before her cousin's death- before his murder- but they could have made a littleeffort!
Narcissa scowled angrily. Well, if no one could be bothered to come and meet her, then she didn't know if she could be bothered to go home! (At least not for a few more hours at any rate.) She carried her trunk over to the stationmaster's office and asked him to arrange for it to be sent back to Ravensden Hall ahead of her. The portly stationmaster didn't look too pleased about this request, but once Narcissa dropped her surname he became only too happy to help.
Less than half an hour after stepping off the train Narcissa was wandering down Diagon Alley looking in the shop windows. It had been a while since she had needed to buy anything new, but the lack of necessity was no longer a reason to deny herself pretty new things. Narcissa wandered to her favourite boutique and peeked into the windows. She decided that she wasn't in the right mood to shop, but neither did she want to go home.
She chose instead to stroll into a little café, one that her mother had often taken she and her sisters to during shopping trips when they were growing up. Narcissa ordered a cream tea and settled herself into a cosy booth. She poured herself a cup of milky tea, and smothered a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam, taking her time to eat one of her favourite childhood foods. It actually made her feel a little better and by the time she finished she felt ready to face her parents.
The public floo was the fastest method of transport, so Narcissa bought a pinch of power, stepped into the public grate with a clear 'Ravensden Hall' and a few moments later, after a hot, queasy journey, tumbled out of the fireplace and into the entrance hall of her home. She righted herself quickly, brushed some off the soot of her clothes and decided that she really did need to prepare to sit for her Apparating license. It was the most convenient way to travel by far.
"Narcissa! There you are!" exclaimed her father, who had heard the floo and come to investigate.
If he was so eager to see her, he could have met her at the station, Narcissa thought crossly, but she didn't say anything more than: "Hello Daddy. It's nice to be home."
"You should have been home hours ago! Anything might have happened to you," Orion Black sighed, his face looked oddly strained. He always looked strained nowadays though, so Narcissa didn't think too much of it, except to feel a little appalled with herself for going out of her way to deliberately cause her father more trouble.
"I'm sorry," she apologised, more because it was what her father wanted to hear than because it was something she really felt she ought to say. "It took longer than I expected to say goodbye to my friends, we stayed in London together for a little while," she said easily. Her father would prefer the lie to the truth.
He nodded, seeming to accept this excuse. "Well, you're here now, petal. They haven't been waiting that long," he forced a smile.
"They haven't?" Narcissa frowned, not understanding whom her father meant.
"No, and it might do them some good to be forced to wait once in a while," Orion actually chuckled. "If I didn't know better I'd say you planned this, Cissa. However, I'd better take in now before Lucius comes out to find you himself."
"Lucius is here?" Narcissa choked.
"Yes, and has been for the past few hours, along with his father." Orion didn't look especially pleased about this state of affairs. "They want to discuss what's going to happen with regard to your- ah marriage now that you've left school." Narcissa looked suddenly furious, but her father mistook the cause of her anger. "I know petal, I don't know why they couldn't have waited a little longer myself."
"It's not that- it's just-" He's ignored me for two entire years, and now he thinks he can simply waltz back into my life again? "-I'll need to change first," she said aloud. Her father looked uneasy.
"I'm not sure-" he began, but Narcissa had already started walking towards the staircase.
"I'll be down when I'm ready," she announced coolly. "I'm sure Lucius can wait a little while longer. He's never been in any great hurry to see me before today," she added, rather loudly. Her father frowned crossly, but she had already started to climb the stairs before he could reprimand her for her uncivil outburst.
It hardly took a moment for Narcissa to slip out of her comfortable travelling robes and into an icy blue dress that highlighted her eyes and very nicely accentuated her new womanly figure. The silky fabric hugged her tiny waist, full breasts and shapely hips. Violet had picked it out for her on a shopping trip that they had shared to London - declaring that she would knock the socks off any man within fifty feet of her when she wore it. Narcissa had been rather dubious of this claim – given that the rings weighing down her left hand seemed to make her entirely invisible to the opposite sex – but it was a very pretty colour, and the sales assistant had commented that it could have been made just for her when she tried it on.
Her hair and makeup took a similarly short time to fix, but Narcissa lingered in her room for as long as possible. Not because she was especially nervous, although she was trying to ignore the strange skipping beat of her heart and the damp, shakiness of her hands, but because she wanted Lucius to know how it felt to be left waiting and forgotten about, even if it was only the smallest taste of what she had suffered over the past two years.
Finally, when she could contrive no further reason for lingering in her room, she sauntered out into the corridor and slowly made her way downstairs to the drawing room, or at least she tried to walk slowly, but the closer she got the faster her feet seemed to move – perhaps Lucius had really had just reasons for staying away? Perhaps he would explain it all? Perhaps things would be just as they had been during that one week in Paris?
By the time Narcissa's hand reached for the door handle a delightful blush had crept into her cheeks and an excited brightness lit her eyes. She pushed open the door to the drawing room, hearing the murmur of low voices coming from inside, and momentarily faltered, when four pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.
"Ah Narcissa, come in and join us." Orion Black was a looking even more stressed than before, Narcissa suspected, with a tiny twinge of guilt that this was her fault for dallying.
She smiled warmly at both her parents before turning to nod her head respectfully in Mr Malfoy's direction. Her father-in-law answered with a rather smug smirk, and only after that did she let her eyes seek out Lucius. She had caught a glimpse of him in her periphery the moment that she had entered the drawing room, but pride had refused to let her eyes linger on his face until at least a few moments had past.
"Afternoon, Narcissa," he breathed. "You look..."
Her stomach somersaulted.
She must have imagined the hitch in his breath, Narcissa told herself firmly, as she struggling to remember that she was furious with him. He was different. He had altered somehow. She had never thought of Lucius as boyish, but seeing him now, after the passing of two years, he seemed so much more like a man. He was taller, she was certain of it, and broader across the chest, but it was not so much the little changes in his physical attributes as it was the alteration in his face that made him look older. There were lines and shadows where there hadn't been any before, and his eyes- his eyes which had always shimmered like bright silver, were now hard, cold slate.
"Good afternoon," she whispered uncertainly. "I-" but she couldn't think of anything to say.
"Well, are we going to stay standing forever?" Julius commented tersely; the three gentlemen had risen when Narcissa entered the room.
Lucius shot his father an annoyed glanced, as, with a very fetching blush, Narcissa sat down in a Louis XV period chair across from her parents. His eyes remained on her as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and then laid her hands in her lap. She looked up, her features arranging themselves into a little confused frown when she caught him staring.
How could he not stare? Lucius wondered raggedly. He had expected her to be pretty. She always had been, and he had prepared himself to encounter the transformation of this innocent prettiness into feminine beauty, but he had not been prepare for Narcissa to take his breath away.
She looked divine, sitting across the room from him, golden hair crowning her head like a halo. Lucius shifted uncomfortable in his chair. He wanted to ravish her, he wanted to spoil, but… he didn't want to ruin her. He took a long, deep breath to cool the passion Narcissa had artlessly ignited, and reminded himself of his promise to her. He had sworn not to force her into anything she wasn't ready for. She was stillterribly young.
But not too young, not now, purred a hedonistic little voice inside Lucius's head, and Lucifer, did she looked ready.
"- don't you agree, Lucius?" His father's voice sliced though his thoughts. Lucius hadn't a clue what he was talking about. Julius Malfoy scowled in annoyance. "I said, that it is high time Narcissa begins living in the Manor, and assumes the full mantle of responsibilities that come with the privilege of being your wife."
"Narcissa is not ready to take on the management of a household as large as yours, Mr Malfoy," Mrs Black began imploringly, Lucius assumed that he was the Mr Malfoy in question, given that it was him she was staring at.
"Perhaps," Narcissa interjected softly, dangerously silkily, "I would not be so regrettably lacking in experience if I had been permitted to visit your house, to see how everything is run, at some time the last two years, Mr Malfoy?"
There was no doubt as to who was the Mr Malfoy in question this time.
Lucius frowned. If she knew some of the things that had taken place in the Manor over the course of her absence, she would be thanking him for protecting her! This woman was clearly not the shy young girl who had left him in Paris two years earlier, he reasoned slowly.
"You'll see it soon enough," he drawled. His voice was cold and crisp, but he saw the flicker of interest that Narcissa wasn't quite quick enough to hide and felt himself soften.
"Will I?" she asked, edging a little forward in her chair. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and Lucius could feel himself beginning to be undone. "When do you think?"
"No time like the present," he said with a roguish smile.
"Now wait a moment, Lucius!" Orion said quickly. "This is what we're all here to discuss. You can't take her just away like that!"
Lucius sighed irritably. He had waited two whole years to claim his wife. He didn't see that he needed to wait any longer. However, even without her father's apparent objection, Narcissa's surprise at his remark was visible, and more than a little undermining. Lucius frowned. He had left her alone for two years, allowing Narcissa to live out her life as if he didn't exist. He was damned if it was going to continue doing so!
"Narcissa," he said standing, unable to keep a slight growl from his voice. "May I speak with you-" her impossibly blue eyes widened as he pulled her to her feet in spite of their parents watching eyes "-alone."
Narcissa extracted her arm. "I can't imagine what Mr. Malfoy has to say to me that he can't say here," she answered coolly and started to turn away, but he quickly caught her elbow again and prevented her escape.
Truthfully, Lucius could imagine very few things fighting to be voiced that he could say in the presence of their parents. "Indulge me," he growled.
Narcissa stiffened as warring impulses surged through her. She was hot with anger- How dare Lucius, after so much time, expect her to cater to his whims? But she was also shivering with awareness of his presence- of the strength in his fingers, and the masculine rumble of his voice.
"No," she puffed boldly, but then her eyes grew wide as she braced herself for her husband's response.
Mrs. Black gasped at her daughter's insolence, and Orion raised his voice. "Narcissa!"
Lucius, however, appeared unperturbed. "You'll have to excuse my wife," he said in strained tones. "I believe that she's overtired. Perhaps my dear it would be best to continue our visit with your parents another day."
Narcissa blinked in confusion, but the look turned to panic when she realized she was being carted toward the floo.
"But I only just got home!" she squealed in protest, hating the little-girl whine in her voice, but powerless to prevent it.
"You only just got here." Lucius corrected sternly. "You'll feel better after you've had some rest."
"But-!" Narcissa started, but further objection died on her lips as she looked from face to face and failed to find a sympathetic eyes. Lucius was cold, Julius was sneering, and Mr. and Mrs. Black looked decidedly embarrassed about their youngest child's behaviour.
"We'll…see you soon, my dear." Mrs. Black said uncomfortably as Lucius herded Narcissa into the floo. "
Malfoy Manor!" he said in a commanding tone. Green flames licked at Narcissa slippers, and the last glimpse of her childhood home, finally faded away.
TO BE CONTINUED
Thank you for your continued feedback. It is important to us to know what works and what doesn't so that we can write a better story, and you will have something (hopefully!) fun to read! We look forward to hearing from you – A. & K.