Thanks to boxter, angelle, and Amrei for their reviews!
Also, thanks to Amrei for putting me on your alerts; and yes, it does seem that even Malfoys are wrong now and then.
Thanks to all my other readers, for reading. )
Read, review, and enjoy!
The two enjoyed the tea quietly, swinging their legs back and forth. There wasn't much sound aside from the clinking of spoons on porcelain and the quiet crunching of biscuits. They were in the east parlor, a room normally used for the spring or summer. Through the wider windows, they could clearly see Charcoal outside, curled up sleeping.
"He's pretty," Lucius offered, breaking the silence.
"Yes, he is," she smiled affectionately. The two lapsed into silence once more, leaving Lucius utterly frustrated with the complete lack of conversational ease. Less than an hour ago, he'd been quite an adept conversationist. After his disturbing realization of Narcissa's gender, he could barely think of a word to say.
"So, what'd your parents think of my gifts?"
She shrugged. "They loved them, of course. Very impressed and all. Said you were so sweet and thoughtful and all that stuff. But, they were also rather impressed with Evan Rosier's gift, as you saw."
He sneered. "Evan Rosier is five years older than you; don't you think that's a little odd?"
"Of course I do," she shrugged. "But my parents don't. They keep saying 'Oh, five years is nothing in the long run!' I don't really care for him, though. Pleione and I are so close, it would be rather weird."
"Yeah…," he trailed off, grabbing an almond biscotti and dipping it in his tea. "I suppose." He quickly suppressed the strong satisfaction that was welling up in him, taking a particularly vicious bite from the cookie.
"But, let's not talk about that. It really gets me annoyed." She said, brow furrowed, adding a bit more honey to her tea.
"Why?" Lucius cocked an eyebrow.
"Because," she frowned. "It's my primary exhibition. In three years time, I'll have my secondary, and in another three, it'll be my cotillion. Then I'll be pushed off to god knows who to date, and if I say no when he proposes, it'll be some horrible shame. So really, in six years or so, I'll be engaged to be married. Awful. Awful, awful, awful!"
He nodded. "I can see how that would be sort of upsetting."
Narcissa nodded adamantly. "It's terrible!"
"Well," he said tentatively. "Six years is a long way away. If you don't think about it, you'll have more fun, and when it comes around, it won't be as bad, 'cause you'll have had fun. Besides, maybe the guy won't be so bad."
Narcissa looked absolutely scandalized. "L-long way away? Not so bad?!" she sputtered, her face reddening slightly in anger. "Lucius, do you have any idea? Any at all?! Six years can fly by! Six years is the blink of an eye, especially when you never want it to end! Six years spent trying to forget won't fix anything!"
"Well I was just saying-"
"And not so bad? Are you stupid?! Half those boys at my exhibition were either losers who would never get me or brutes that kill animals for fun and think of women as their property! Do you honestly think that if I was married to Yaxley, he wouldn't beat me? Or Mulciber?"
He shrunk back from her anger, sinking slowly below the table. "no…"
"Exactly," she exhaled sharply, calming slightly. They sat in silence for several minutes, and Lucius regarded her carefully, as if she was ready to explode. Slowly, she returned to her normal color, and sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you or anything…"
"S'okay," he muttered, now thoroughly over it and sucking on a sugar cube.
"It's just that it's scary and unfair, and everything about it is wrong," she sulked. Lucius nodded in agreement, regarding her from over the edge of his teacup.
"Well, either way, six years isn't as quick as you make it out to be." The clock promptly struck six.
"Well, did this seem like six hours?" She smirked.
"No," he frowned. "But still-"
"Time is time," she grinned. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Probably not. I didn't ask my father about it or anything," he shrugged, putting his tea down and hopping off his chair, while Narcissa did the same.
"So I'll walk you the foyer, then, because it's about time for us to eat."
The two made their way to the flooing foyer, and Narcissa bade him goodbye.
The next day, Lucius discovered Narcissa had been quite right about that whole 'time' dilemma.
This morning, it had seemed like he had all the time in the world to get ready for the annual Winter Gala. But suddenly it was less than an hour 'till he and his family had to arrive at Black Manor, and Lucius wasn't even dressed!
Now normally his mother would've henpecked him into being ready, but she hadn't been feeling too well as of late. She'd caught some sort of virus last week, and still hadn't gotten over it, so to be lively for the Gala, she'd spent most of the day sleeping or trying to keep some kind of food down. His father had spent most of the morning and the early afternoon traveling to apothecaries to try and find a remedy for his wife, and was now readying himself.
So, Lucius had been left to his own devices, and what had he gotten?
Well, for starters, there were two ruined dress robes, some scuffed shoes, a pair of ripped trousers, and a smoldering shirt he'd left in his bathtub. And that wasn't even the worst of it.
Now, he'd resorted to having the house elves ready him, and while it was embarrassing, they were certainly more efficient at it than he was. He was already appropriately scrubbed, his hair combed, his hands clean, and his robes impeccable, and they were just putting the clasps on his cuffs and tying his shoes when there was a knock on the door.
"Lucius? Are you ready dear? It's time to go," his mother called from the hallway.
"Coming!" He shook the house elves off and hurried out as they disappeared with a quiet pop.
"You look nice, sweetie," his mother smiled at him affectionately, smoothing out some would-be wrinkles on his black robes with a wave of her wand. Lucius had to admit, whatever his father had picked up for her, she seemed loads better. The luster had returned to her hair, the color had come back to her cheeks, and seemed much less tired. She did, however, still look rather thin in her emerald gown.
"You do too, mum," he said quietly.
"Well, are we ready, Morgana?" Abraxas asked. She smiled, eyes twinkling, as she mockingly surveyed her husband and child.
"Well, I suppose you're up to par," she laughed and pecked her husband on the cheek. "Let's go. Grab my hand, Lucius."
He complied, and closed his eyes during the cross-dimensional sensation that was apparition.
With a pop, the family appeared in the apparition foyer of the Black Manor, and was greeted warmly by Proteus Black, his wife Walburga, and their two sons. Abraxas smiled warmly at the man, giving him a firm handshake. Only the manner in which his other hand twitched slightly betrayed his unease. It hadn't escaped Lucius or Morgana's notice. Proteus Black was quite well known to be a man of few words, but the words he did speak were either necessary to avoid offending his company, or heavy with meaning. One always had to consider the implications of his words, both because of his wisdom, and because it was a well-kept secret that Proteus was gifted with the sight.
"Proteus! Such a pleasure to see you! And you as well, Walburga," he kissed the woman's hand lightly, as was expected. The two boys both bowed to the Malfoys, though the elder looked rather sullen about doing so.
"You as well, Abraxas."
"Walburga, Proteus, lovely to see you," Morgana offered her hand to be kissed by Proteus and raised by Walburga, which she did with an air of sullenness (as doing so was a concession of lower status).
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Black," Lucius bowed. "Hello Sirius, Reggie." Sirius eyed him with a look of anger mixed with distaste, but Reggie smiled in the innocent manner that five year-olds do and waved.
"I'm not 'posed to hug people," he whispered. "'Cause mummy said its not 'propriate. But I missed you when you was at school." The youngest Malfoy couldn't help but smile. Regulus was always such a sweet, easy child.
"Missed you too, Reggie. I'll see you inside, alright?" The boy nodded happily, and Lucius followed his family into the ballroom.
"I never liked talking to Proteus," he heard his father mutter from ahead. "Too smart for his own good. Too gifted. It feels like he's looking right through you!"
"Relax, it's not as if he's out to get you. His gifts might unnerve you, but he's a good man. He's a friend, Abraxas."
"I know that; all I'm saying is that he's much too gifted in the sight for his own good. Did you know he made prophecies about-"
Then their talk grew too quiet for Lucius to eavesdrop on, which left him rather deflated. Just as it was getting interesting. The doors swung open and ushered the family into a huge ballroom that overwhelmed every sense.
First, sight- The room was huge, big enough to comfortably fit several hundred dancers at once, with walls that stretched on into eternity, before hitting a magnificent ceiling, depicting the full Black Family tree, dating back to the first known Viking raid in 787, complete with portraits. The whole thing was done in precious stones and metals. Tendrils of gold curl down the walls to turn up into magnificent arms to hold several crystal chandeliers all round the room (because obscuring the vision of their lineage would be unthinkable). Dancers and minglers swirl about, chatting and cavorting in every fabric, every color, every gem that existed.
Sound- Voices, everywhere, but most notable is a choir of sirens who sing for the opening. Behind them, a full orchestra is preparing to take the stage for the dance, instruments clunking and chairs scraping as they do so. People are laughing, talking. Glasses clink in toasts and money changes hands to pay for debts as well as friendships. Gossip hisses in whispers between guests. Rendezvous are arranged. This is, after all, a social event.
Smell and taste seem to go together- Perfume of various odors mingles in the air sweetly, the dulcet tones hanging over the crowd in a floating cloud. The strong, smooth smell of liquor permeates the air, but even the liquor does note take precedence to the delicate senses of the nose. Food, food everywhere. Buttery pastries, artfully arranged vegetables, seared meats, rich chocolates and creams! In the corner is an eight-foot high fruit sculpture, made to look like a Christmas tree! There's an ice sculpture of Grindlewald, and a huge cake that is a model of the Palace of Versailles, complete with sculpted buttercream hedges, koi ponds, and mazes! Everything is miraculous!
Touch- everything is so amazing, to the eye, to the nose, to the mouth, that it seems like one is hallucinating, and while one sees, one touches. Everything is so alive, so lovely, so beautiful, so vivid! Vivid like the stars against a black sky, vivid like fresh snow, vivid like a masterpiece, vivid like Narcissa Black!
"Good evening, Lucius. I hope you're enjoying yourself?"