Chapter 7

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Fenwick." Narcissa shook his hand, careful to keep her face blank as she met his eyes.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mrs Malfoy." He replied. Again he was looking at her with that searching, critical gaze. He had dark brown eyes set in a remarkably handsome face. He held her gaze for a second until Narcissa pulled away, unsure what to make of this man. There had been something strange about his appearance at the party. She had not been introduced to him then, which was odd, as she had thought she had seen all the guests arrive. Come to think of it, she didn't think she remembered him from the dinner either. Lucius interrupted her train of thoughts.

"Narcissa, Mr Fenwick wishes to begin painting at once. He has asked me that we change into whichever of our robes we would like to be painted in."

Narcissa nodded and looked at Benjy Fenwick. "Of course, Mr Fenwick. May I offer you some refreshment while you wait?"

"No, thank you, Mrs Malfoy, I shall simply begin setting up my canvas."

"Of course," said Lucius. "If you need any assistance the elves are at your service." He flicked his wand and with a snap Dosky appeared, wincing and cradling an arm that looked twisted out of joint. Benjy Fenwick raised his eyebrows slightly.

"You are too kind, Mr Malfoy." A touch of irony was just noticeable in his voice. Narcissa felt a twinge of shame in her husband, a feeling she rarely felt as Lucius was so respected among the society they kept at the Malfoy manor.

"Come, Narcissa." Lucius commanded, and Narcissa followed him out of the room, making herself look straight ahead and not glance back at Mr Fenwick.

Narcissa's personal house elf, Dot, had already laid out the robes Narcissa was to wear in the portrait. They were black, with green edging. Always one for tradition, Narcissa thought, it was so like Lucius to choose colours that matched both the Malfoy family crest and the Slytherin colours at Hogwarts that they had both worn. Narcissa's robes were rather like an evening gown in appearance. Tight fitting to the waist, making Narcissa gasp slightly as Dot laced up the back for her. The robes had a regal look about them, thought Narcissa as she assessed herself in the mirror. Her face remained cold and unsmiling as she applied her makeup with her wand, while Dot did up her long blonde hair in twists and curls. In less than ten minutes Narcissa was ready, and walked to the top of the stair case. Lucius was already waiting for her at the bottom. He looked up at her and Narcissa noticed that he sucked in his breath when he saw her. Something in Narcissa was grimly pleased that she still had some influence over her husband's feelings. He watched her walk down the stairs, her head held high, her whole poise speaking of elegance.

Lucius' robes matched Narcissa's in colour but had a high, imposing collar which made him look even haughtier and more proud than usual. He stepped up to his wife and drew her to him so that their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes as he ran his hands down her body, tracing the curves of her breasts, waist and hips. Dressed in the corseted robes, Lucius' hands almost reached right around Narcissa's waist.

"You are beautiful, Narcissa." He said, as he opened his eyes. Narcissa remained unresponsive, not reacting to his touch at all.

"Mr Fenwick will be waiting, Lucius."

Lucius seemed slightly irritated by the mention of the artist. "Yes, of course." He said, shortly.

Narcissa glided past him and walked towards the parlour door, but then hung back and let Lucius go in first. She felt suddenly shy of the artist. Shaking herself slightly Narcissa reminded herself to remain composed and poised, and walked in too, her chin held high. She did not even look at Benjy Fenwick, but glided over to where Lucius was standing and took her place next to him. Only then did she allow herself a glance at the artist, and was inwardly outraged to see that he was smirking slightly. Narcissa felt oddly exposed by his behaviour. She was so conditioned to believe that people would be slightly awed by her presence that to find one who seemed to be slightly mocking of the Malfoys shook her more than she would have expected.

Benjy Fenwick finished adjusting his easel and walked over to them. "With your permission I would like to arrange you for the painting." Lucius nodded his assent. "Excellent." Said the artist. He seemed to consider for a minute, his deep eyes taking in their stance, their faces. "Mrs Malfoy would you step slightly nearer your husband?" Narcissa obediently moved. "And Mr Malfoy, if you would turn slightly so you are facing Mrs Malfoy a little more?" Lucius shifted his position, and Benjy frowned. "Mrs Malfoy would you do the same?" He considered. "No, it is not natural. Go back to how you were."

He spent some time instructing them, adjusting an angle here, an arm there, stepping back every now and then to assess the whole. He spoke to them as he worked. "You understand, once the painting is finished, your paintings will be free to move around of course. The reason I am having to arrange you so carefully is so that the painting will capture… your very essence." He had particular trouble with Narcissa. "Turn your body to face Mr Malfoy, please, yes." He stepped back. "Could you try looking in this direction? – no, no, that doesn't work. Try over here. And bring your arm round slightly? No, like this," and he reached out to move her arm. At his touch Narcissa gasped ever so slightly, and Lucius frowned. Benjy ignored him, and reached up and with a gentle touch on Narcissa's chin moved her face around to look towards the front, away from Lucius. She caught the artist's gaze, almost by accident as she had previously been working to avoid it, and their eyes locked. Narcissa's face remained porcelain and expressionless but she read in Benji Fenwick's eyes first deep curiosity and then something that resembled shock. He looked quickly away, removing his hand from her face.

"That will do." He said, and moved back towards his canvas. "I estimate I will need three sittings from you, in order to complete the painting. I hope this suits you?" He spoke to Lucius, not looking at Narcissa at all.

"Yes, yes, we are quite happy with that arrangement." Lucius replied carelessly.

"Good. Then I shall begin."

Narcissa felt deeply uncomfortable as Mr Fenwick started his work. Why had he looked at her like that? So deeply, it was as if he saw everything… and yet… She noticed that Benjy Fenwick was looking at her as he moved his wand with great precision over his canvas. She felt naked in front of him, defenceless. Why had he seemed so shocked, of all things?

Narcissa did not know how long she and Lucius were stood before the artist during that first sitting. All her thoughts were fixed on the man in front of her as he worked. What he had seen in her Narcissa was afraid to think about. Something about this man pulled her, drew her in. She was angry with herself for even caring what he thought.

At last Benjy stood back and sighed. "That will be all for today, Mr and Mrs Malfoy."

Lucius nodded, then stepped forwards towards the canvas. Benjy tapped it smartly with his wand and it instantly shrank in size and folded itself up so that it resembled a small envelope. "I shall only show you the finished painting, Mr Malfoy." He said as he pocketed it. Lucius frowned.

"Very well. We shall see you soon, I hope, Mr Fenwick." He turned around. "Narcissa, I have some business to attend to. I shall see you at dinner." He strode out of the room without a backward glance, his cloak billowing behind him, his boots echoing loudly on the stone hall floor.

Narcissa was trying desperately to gain some composure. The sound of her husband's boots was fading, and she felt very alone and exposed with the artist. He was looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Narcissa found she could not meet his eye. She wanted to speak to him, but was terrified to do so. He took a step towards her, then seemed to change his mind and instead picked up his cloak and turned towards the door. He was nearly at it when Narcissa blurted out "What was it?" He stopped, but did not turn around. Narcissa, shocked at her own outburst, felt her heart beating fast. "What… what did you see?" she whispered.

Benjy turned around slowly, his dark eyes fixing Narcissa's face once more. She could not bare it, but she could not tear herself away. He walked towards her. He seemed to know exactly what she had been asking. "I saw in your face, Mrs Malfoy, emotions that I… did not expect." Narcissa felt herself almost trembling. She was usually so composed, so calm, so cold, yet here she was completely weak in front of this man. She mustered all her strength and made herself stand a little taller. She was a Black, and a Malfoy, and she was not going to be intimidated.

"Indeed. For – forgive my asking. I had merely been curious." 'Curious' was a wild understatement, thought Narcissa. Benjy Fenwick took a step nearer Mrs Malfoy.

"Why do you do it?" He asked. "Why do you closet yourself in so much? You never show yourself to the world." He seemed almost sad at this point, and Narcissa turned away and walked to the large windows overlooking the grounds. How dare he ask her such a question! Narcissa was shocked, and yet… how did he even know? Nobody knew what Narcissa felt.

She could almost feel his eyes watching her. After a minute he spoke again.

"I am sorry, Mrs Malfoy, that I had formed so wrong an opinion of you." Narcissa did not turn around. She did not trust herself to speak. "I had thought you cold and proud. Like most people think of you." He stopped for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "I knew that you did not show people the real you, but I had no idea that your life is so full of… of sadness."

Gazing out at the sunny grounds she felt a tear fall down her cheek.

"I am sorry." He repeated. A minute later Narcissa heard the swish of his cloak and the light falls of his feet as he departed.