For the purpose of this story I've made Regulus Black Sirius older brother. I hope you find that okay. This chapter is a little short, my apologies.


He wore black robes; the collar was decorated with silver snakes, tangled around each other like old cords. He had kept his hair the length she had given him her approval for a week earlier.

She regretted accepting his invitation. It had been silly, and she could not for her life explain why she had said yes in the first place. Her younger cousin, Regulus, to whom she often opened up for, had told her that she had felt an attraction. He had said that there was something between her and Malfoy that was caused by something else than common sense.

Narcissa was not attracted to Lucius Malfoy, she could not say that he wasn't nice to look at, but there was no attraction. His arrogance towards her, Narcissa Black of the Ancient and most Noble house of Black, had ruined every chance of her ever feeling attracted to him.

She had a family tree just as impressive as his, but somehow the name of Malfoy weighed heavier than Black, at least in Mr. Malfoy's ears. It bothered her. Coming from the largest Pureblood wizarding-family in Britain, she if anyone deserved some admiration!

"You look stunning"

His words sounded forced and untruthful. She smiled stiffly as they linked arms, silently walking off to the party.

She wasn't stunning. Neither was she very pretty. She had tried, not much, but a little. She had let her hair out, curled it. Normally it was straight and in either a braid or a ponytail. Her friend Lysandra had put on a pink gloss onto her lips; pinched her cheeks to make her look like her blushingly lovely sister Andromeda. But she didn't look like her; she looked more like her younger and less pretty sister. This, in fact, was true.

By the time they reached Professor Slughorn's office she looked up at his face. He didn't meet her eyes until a few seconds later. He waited for her to say something. She didn't.

Greetings, laughter and a scent of clove surrounded them. The light was dull and was probably meant to be a cosy setting, but standing next to Lucius Malfoy took away any hint of cosiness in the world. After a ten-minutes-long silence, she left Lucius' side, finding some friends from her own year to entertain her instead.

He didn't do the same, and that puzzled her. Lucius Malfoy was incredibly popular, not only in Slytherin House, but in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff (especially Hufflepuff, she had overheard the girls in that house as they discussed plenty of inappropriate "fantasies" they had of him) as well. She could spot several people who'd gladly spend the evening in his company. But instead of joking around with Rabastan Lestrange and Goyle, he stood awkwardly alone in a corner. He looked… tormented. His eyebrows were wrinkled, holding a glass of fire-whiskey in one hand, and another grabbing his upper forearm.

"Don't you think?"

Narcissa looked around, remembered where she was and smiled to her friend.

"Yes, yes of course I do"

She had no idea what she just agreed on. Her eyes went looking for Malfoy again, finding him in the same spot as before.

"Pardon me, would you mind?" She asked, nodding towards her lonely date. Her friends giggled, but Regulus just shook his head, taking a sip from his butterbeer. She knew what he was thinking.

She excused herself with a smile and walked towards Malfoy. He did not see her, he was too busy looking out into the blue. When she got closer, she noticed his eyes being rather dizzy. This was the second time she saw him in a state where his body and facial expression were stone cold, but his eyes were telling a story.

"Enjoying the party so far?" He still didn't look at her, and she wasn't sure if he actually asked her or someone else. Narcissa looked around, trying to see someone else, someone more interesting, but saw no one.

"Not really. It doesn't quite live up to my standards of a party"

"Mine neither. But I knew that. It makes me sick, you know"

Narcissa looked up at him, confused by his words. It wasn't that bad. The food could be better, so could the decorations, but it most certainly didn't make her sick.

"Purebloods, Halfbloods and Mudbloods, mixed together like way too salty dough!" She couldn't help but smile.

"Dough? Is that how you'd explain integration to a five-year-old, or what?"

"Nevermind" He hissed, and Narcissa just shook her head.

"But I agree. I find it rather disturbing" She finally admitted.

The school had gone worse over the years, and it actually offended her how they let those students in. They had no idea what they were doing, and then they showed up in school as though they had been inside the magical community all their lives. They did not see the beauty of magic, they thought that they could learn how to practise it, but the truth was that it always came from within. It was the same as writing. Everyone can learn to write if someone would hand him or her a quill and parchment, but not everyone could make the words dance in front of them.

Magic had to come from the heart, a heart with tradition, a heart that beat out the purest of blood.

"It's insulting! I like Professor Slughorn, but I don't understand what he was thinking when he invited Mudbloods to the party!" Something was on fire in Malfoy's voice.

His passion impressed her, actually. It was nothing compared to Bella, but then, Bella was a bit mental.

"I didn't know you were into politics, Malfoy?" Oh, she did know. But she had no idea that he cared as much as she did. All of a sudden, his eyes met hers, and she was stuck in the cloudy heaven of his iris.

"I'm forced into it, when scum like those" Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been spotted by Lucius Malfoy "are allowed in the same room as myself!"

"I find those people to be the worst. I think they're just as bad as the Mudbloods, even worse, actually" She responded, took the drink from his hands and took a sip from it herself. It was too strong for her to like it. "The Mudbloods are rude and don't deserve their place, but the traitors… They should know better, don't you think? They've been raised with the same blood as we have, and yet they don't see segregation as an absolute must. I find it awful, I'm not sure if I'd even call them wizards"

Lucius Malfoy stared at her, actually looking impressed. He smirked, and she suddenly felt how her cheeks blushed. Lysandra didn't have to pinch them, after all, they did their job perfectly well all by themselves.

"I-" He started, as they got interrupted by a not-so-very familiar voice.

"Oh look how they're making evil-plans in the corner! Hey, Malfoy, if you've got a problem with me, the least you can do is to tell me to my face!"

The Prewett brothers, red-haired, dressed in rags and mud-grey eyes, were now facing them.

"Don't step so close to me, please, I wouldn't want for my dress to get dirty" Narcissa sputtered.

"Wow Malfoy, you've actually got yourself a girlfriend as pathetic as yourself!"

Narcissa, prepared to start a fight, found herself to be slightly shocked when Lucius took a step forward, grabbing Fabian Prewett's collar. Narcissa saw how he reached for his wand, and acted quickly. Grabbing Lucius by his left arm, she pulled him away from the blood traitor's daring face.

"Come on, Lucius, let's leave," She murmured, dragging him towards the door.

Behind them, she could hear Slughorn's miserable voice saying;

"Oh dear"

And the Prewell brothers laughing, yelling ugly words after them. She truly hated Gryffindors. They were all like that, boosting and mean. Pathetic, really.

Once out in the corridors, Lucius speeded up his pace, and all of a sudden she was several feet behind him. Her long, figure-shaped dress proved itself very unhandy as she tried to run after him.

"Malfoy! Malfoy, wait!" She cried after him, trying to come anywhere near his speed. "Lucius!"

He stopped at once. Narcissa walked towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder and trying to meet his eyes with her own.

"Hey, what's going on? What are you-" She said; her voice short-winded by her attempts to catch up with him.

"Let me go!" He roared, "You wouldn't understand, you're just-"

"-A silly little girl" She filled him in, letting go of his arm as she nodded. He had told her that before "So may be it, but that doesn't necessarily have to mean that I won't understand! I could try"

She tried to give him a little smile, tried to encourage him, but expected nothing good in return. She prepared herself for the worst, being being a victim of violence, perhaps. Narcissa actually waited for him to slap her. She didn't know why, but she wasn't afraid of the pain and neither was she scared of him. She just waited.

But instead of violence, the only thing that came out of Lucius Malfoy was silent tears. They streamed down his face. She hadn't seen that coming. His face had turned slightly pink and he chipped for air. Narcissa did not know it, but this was the only time she'd see him cry for the next 80 years.

"Please, leave me be, I need to be alone right now" He whispered, trying to keep his tears inside, just like Narcissa had been taught to do. Purebloods shouldn't show their feelings; it was a sign of weakness. She reached out for him again, put her arms around his waist and held him; her head leaned against his neck. She wanted to comfort him. She wanted him to feel better even if she didn't know how to do it or why she had the instinct that she had to. "She's dying, you know."

He finally gave in to the tears. Narcissa swallowed. She had had no idea what he was talking about. Stroking his back, she nodded slowly. Not saying anything, just letting him feel her body against his, let it speak for her instead.

They spent the night together. Not the physical way Regulus assumed the next day. They had been hiding down in the dungeons, she had reached for his hand, and he had let her hold it. He had talked, a lot and about everything. He had told her about his mother, how the healers had decided to prioritize a young Mudblood girl when they both reached St. Mungo's at the same time. The Mudblood would survive, but Lucius' mother was dying. He told her about his father, how he always expected Lucius to be the best, and how he therefore had started doubting in his own abilities, since the pressure increased. He told her about the Lord, the defender of their heritage. How he wanted to start a revolution. Lucius told her how he had joined this man; apparently her sister had done the same thing.

The Lord was impressed with Lucius and his talents in the dark arts, so he had rewarded him. Lucius showed her his mark, told her how he was proud, but a bit afraid of the revolution. He wanted it come, but feared for his life being taken as the price for a better world. He did not want to sacrifice his life, he said, because he dreamt of a world of purity. If he wouldn't be there to see it, he thought of it as unfair.

She had listened all night long. He had stopped crying and she had stopped feeling awkward.

"I understand" She had told him after hours. He had looked up at her, given her his first genuine smile and said:

"I think you do"