Chapter Twenty-three:
Narcissa sat down at breakfast quietly, slowly sipping her orange juice. At the far end of the table Kerri was laughing with a group of plastic looking sixth year girls. She stared with a pointed anger at Narcissa, laughing overly loud at some lame joke a guy had made in attempts to woo the girls' attention.
"See? I don't need you anymore." That's what Kerri's eyes said as she begin to flirt with the guy. She scooped a dollop of whipping cream from her plate and sensually licked it off, grinning at the guy. His smile was wide and triumphant.
Narcissa rolled her eyes. How pathetic could Kerri get? Just because they had told a little lie to keep everyone out of trouble didn't mean that she had to go out and make a total skank of herself. Sometimes the female mind didn't make sense, even to Narcissa.
A hand tenderly caressed her shoulder. Narcissa flinched and shrugged the hand away. "Don't touch me," she muttered.
Lucius slid into the seat next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. "What's the matter honey?" he asked sweetly, yet Narcissa heard the metallic edge in his voice.
"You're so gorgeous, Narcissa." He reached over her shoulder and fondled her dead body. "But all beauty must die." Lucius' grip tightened around her dead throat and Narcissa began to gasp.
"I told you not to touch me," Narcissa said fearfully pushing his arm off her shoulder. "I don't want to be touched." She could see that gleam of violence in his beautiful icy eyes.
Lucius looked hurt. He placed his hands on the table and stared at Narcissa. "Do you want to talk about it?" his calm voice asked.
"No!" Narcissa cried, standing up quickly. She held her arms up, ready to push Lucius away if he tried to touch her again. "I just want to left alone."
By now she was causing a scene but she didn't care. She couldn't stand the feel of his touch. Not after yesterday, not after the dream.
"What are you doing, Narcissa?" he demanded, looking around self-consciously. "Sit down and eat your breakfast. You're acting like a fool." He flashed his trademark smile to everyone and turned back to Narcissa. His mouth opened but what he said next was drowned out by a high pitched scream from the entrance hall.
The room fell quiet. Everyone's eyes turned fearfully towards the entrance wondering what had happened.
A young Ravenclaw girl tore into the hall screeching and crying. A grim procession of professor's passed behind her, heading up towards the hospital wing. A stretcher floated in their midst, the body covered by a white, blood stained blanket.
Everyone gasped and got out of their seats rushing towards the entrance hall. But Albus Dumbledore stepped in their way, holding up his frail, white hands.
"Please, will you all sit back down," he commanded without raising his voice. Everyone obediently fell back into their seats. Narcissa stared at the Headmaster, wondering what had happened. She also wondered whether Lucius had something to do with it. But a glance down the table told her that Tommy was still alive, with only a few minor bruises, but definitely not dead.
"Thank-you," Dumbledore continued, aware that he had everyone's complete attention. Which is a very rare thing indeed. So much so that he smiled slightly despite the tragic circumstances. "It is my deep regret to inform you that a student was attacked in the locker room this morning. We don't know, as of now, exactly what attacked him but for precautions no one is to leave the castle without a teacher escort. If you have a class outside you will wait for your teacher in the entrance hall."
"Who died?" shouted a voice, asking the question that was on everyone's mind.
Dumbledore stared at the person for a good second before answering. "Luke O'Halloran," he said, with a great amount of remorse in his voice. Cries filled the hall from those closest to him.
Narcissa quickly scanned her brain to make sure Lucius had never met this boy. She needn't bothered. The look on Lucius face was more than answer enough. He didn't look sad, but he didn't have that look of grim satisfaction Narcissa had seen yesterday.
"A memorial ceremony will take place here, at eight o'clock. All those who wish to attend are welcome." With that Dumbledore bowed his head and walked away.
Muttered whispers and loud sobs filled the air. Many Ravenclaws dashed out of the room, hands buried in their arms. Lucius was laughing to himself. "What a bunch of pansies."
Narcissa sniffed disapprovingly, just as her mother does, and got up, throwing her head back. Lucius stared at her with a mixture of confusion and frustration. Women! They made good fun but boy were they difficult to crack.
As angrily as she could Narcissa stomped away not meeting anyone's gaze. Inside she felt sad and confused. Why was Lucius like this? Why did she care so much? Was he really that dangerous?
In the entrance hall she bumped into Lestrange. "How's Bellatrix?" she asked, looking into his dark face, which looked ashamed at the mention of her sister's name. "What happened." This was more of an order than a question.
Lestrange wrung his hands nervously, looking quickly at the floor. "I mixed up her potion last night with werewolf blood. I didn't mean to but it happened. It messed with her psyche a bit and she was just coming around when a bunch of professor's came in with a dead body. So I was booted out."
"Mess up her psyche how?"
"Well Pomfrey is theorising that Bellatrix spent the night thinking she was a wild animal. But I promise you I didn't do it on purpose." He flinched, as was his habit lately.
Narcissa giggled. "You've been hanging out with Bellatrix for far too long. And I don't blame you. These things happen. What I wonder is why did Madam Pomfrey have a vial of werewolves blood so accessible to anyone?"
"Actually," muttered a dark voice. Severus Snape came to Narcissa's side. "Werewolves blood is used in several rather complex healing potions. It is quite common in most healers' store. It is rather rare and expensive but luckily for you Pomfrey has, shall we say, a very close supplier."
"Well that was insightful, Severus," Lestrange said. "Unfortunately it is still early and I have not had my cup of coffee. Therefore the span of my mind is Fire bad. Tree pretty."
Snape rolled his eyes and turned to Narcissa. "So why are you getting all snarky with Lucius? He's sent me to find out and I won't get a moment's peace till he has his answer."
Narcissa felt her spine tingle at the mention of Lucius' name. She wished it didn't but she really was afraid of him. "Tell him it's that time of month," she instructed Snape, knowing that Lucius always avoided her when she had her period. "And what do you mean by a close supplier?" She wanted to change the subject.
Snape grinned, and shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't know. I've been told to forget what I saw. But I can tell you that her supplier is closer than you think. Now I must go and pass on your message." He seemed as eager to get off the werewolf blood subject, as Narcissa was to get off the Lucius subject.
"See ya, Sevvy," she said, waving as he disappeared into the Great Hall. A girl rushed out blubbering. She was in Ravenclaw so Narcissa supposed it was about the dead guy.
As much as she hated to admit it, Lucius was right about them being pansies. Death was one of those things you had to accept. It didn't change anything to stand around and cry for two days. Besides most of these people were probably crying because they felt sad that they had never noticed him, or been nice to him.
That's the way the human brain worked. Major crisis and it instantly goes into "it's all about me" mode.
Lestrange's stomach growled softly and he grinned sheepishly at Narcissa. "I should probably get something to eat. See ya around." He waved to her and sauntered into the Great Hall.
Narcissa considered using an anti-depressant charm but she remembered how it hadn't seemed to work yesterday. And she had used it five times. So instead she adjusted her book bag and sat down on the stone floor. Her first class was Care of Magical Creatures and she had to wait for the professor in case the big bad creature attempted to attack her.
Which she assumed would be very unlikely seeing as she was a Black and nothing would dare touch her.
So to pass the time she pulled out her sketchbook and began to draw a picture of Bellatrix acting like a wild animal, wondering what Snape had meant when he said the werewolf blood supplier was closer than she thought. It was obvious that one of the students was a werewolf, the question was: Which one?
