The Power of a Rose
People had been sifting through the room for what seemed like hours, coming to him, shaking his hand, and offering condolences that he knew they didn't mean. Black lengths of fabric hung from the wall, a great empty silver casket sat filled with white roses before the fireplace, and his mother sat numb beside him. He couldn't be so sure why his mother had cried; he hadn't ever expressed love for her in all the time Lucius had been able to recall. He looked down at the elaborate black satin robes his mother purchased for the funeral; a masterpiece lined with silver thread, and shuddered. He felt no obligation to be here; he hated his father, he shouldn't be so decorated for his celebration of death.
He stood, needing to regain the feeling in his long legs, and his mother looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks. He patted her shoulder and walked to the back windows, pulling back a pane of heavy black fabric. The December snow was piling up grandly over the manor grounds. He could see the entrance to the family tomb, a work of hand-carved stone where so-called mourners were coming and going. It was a great deal lighter than the darkened room alluded, but the gray sky looked down menacingly to the snow-covered earth. He sighed, glaring at the landscape when he felt the strange feeling that he needed to turn. Sure enough, when he looked to the drawing room door, Narcissa Black was coming through with her mother.
She looked incredible. Her golden hair was pulled up on top of her head and her cheeks were kissed with rose from the cold outside. She wore black robes, not as fancy as his, but beautifully fitting to her figure. Her lips were a deep red; a color he may have said was too mature for her on any day but this day. He needed someone beautiful and mature like Narcissa to pull him back from all of the phoniness of these visitors and back into the world he much preferred to visit. Her eyes caught his with a sad smile and he strode immediately to her.
"Lucius, I'm so sorry for your loss," She said, hugging him warmly, "It was so sudden."
"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault," He didn't dare kiss her right then, as her mother wouldn't be likely to approve, but took her hand instead, "Would you mind stepping outside with me? I need some air."
"Oh, not at all," She looked at her mother who nodded in approval. Lucius kissed his mother on the cheek and noted to her that he would be right back. He took Narcissa through a side door and down a hallway and into the brisk winter air.
"I couldn't believe it when I got your letter," She said, breaking away from her and strolling to the railing of the balcony to give him a little space.
"The mediwizards couldn't believe it. Dragon Pox isn't usually as acute as his case. I suppose it was the alcoholism that quickened the process… acted as a catalyst," He trailed off, his voice becoming quieter, "I can't say I'm… displeased."
He hadn't said this in words yet and it caught Narcissa a trifle off guard as well. He looked at her and shrugged, "I hated him, Narcissa. He never treated me like a son… I never made him proud, never received any sort of recognition from him, and he hated me as well."
"How could any parent ever hate you, Lucius?" Narcissa walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his shoulder, "You are an excellent son; your mother is so full of love and pride when she looks at you. Your father was lucky to have had you as a son even if he didn't realize it."
Lucius kissed Narcissa's head and circled his arms around her as well, not caring who saw them or if they approved or not. She looked up at him, inviting him to kiss her normally and he took the invitation. As they broke apart, he looked into her cerulean gaze and a ghost of a smile played at his lips in silent relief. Narcissa reached into the folds of her robes and retrieved a long stemmed rose the color of her perfect lips, a fierce crimson. With a single kiss, a single glimpse of deepest blue, and a red, red rose she had fixed what the million broken emotions inside of him had shattered.
