The next time they met in person it was also at a party, in a garden, alone in the soft twilight with the scent of flowers all around and a long, curling flower in her pale hair. And they kissed and caressed in the shadows, caring not at all for the social dictums that should have stopped them from daring such familiarity; they were Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, after all, and they would do as they pleased.
And what they pleased, right now, was to snog each other senseless.
They had to talk, as well; there were things that needed to be discussed that were best brought up in person, and that had ostensibly been the reason why they had sauntered off into the garden together for privacy—although neither one of them had doubted that the talking would become secondary once they'd reached seclusion—and they did that, too, once they were done with the first part; now sitting next to one another on the wide rim of a fountain, the both of them flushed and breathless with entwined fingers and disheveled robes, talking quietly.
"We'll marry once you're out of school," Lucius decreed, and Narcissa nodded in complete agreement.
"One more year," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder. He tangled his fingers in the half-collapsed twist that no longer held her hair up; the style hadn't stood up to their enthusiastic greetings. She would have to remember to pin it back properly before they returned to the ball, or people would talk dreadfully.
"And your father?" Narcissa asked, more curious than worried. Lucius had said that he would deal with Abraxas somehow, and she never doubted him.
Lucius shrugged, unconcerned. "What can he do?" he asked carelessly. "Ground me?" He chuckled scornfully, and Narcissa giggled with him.
It was true; Lucius was over seventeen, and Abraxas's only power now lay in making empty threats of cutting off or disowning his only son, and neither Lucius nor Narcissa were worried about that. Such a drastic course of action Abraxas Malfoy wouldn't dare embark upon, not without good reason.
And Lucius choosing to marry a perfectly pure-blooded young lady from the Noble House of Black, well that was pretty much the antithesis of a "good reason" so far as their circles of society were concerned.
Children were disowned for betrayal of ideals, for scandal, for blatant defiance, for blood crimes; for following in the footsteps of Andromeda Black. They were never, ever cut off for making such a perfect, enviable match as the one Lucius intended. For Abraxas to make any sort of retaliatory protest or punishment over such a thing, that would invite public ridicule upon the family and besides, Lucius was his only heir. Without him, the Malfoy line would end.
And Abraxas could never allow that to happen.
"What about your parents," Lucius asked, "do you think they'd insist upon talking things over with my father once I approached them?"
Narcissa thought a moment. "Probably," she admitted. "I can't imagine that they'd be easily convinced to keep such an exciting matter to themselves, not without all sorts of tedious explanations." She rolled her eyes. "They've been insufferable enough with their hints and questions over how much time we're spending together."
Lucius smirked. "A bit less than thrilled that their youngest is behaving so…potentially recklessly?"
Narcissa shrugged. "Well," she said, "if you were anyone other than who you are, and if they weren't still trying to bow and scrape their way back into your family's good graces, they probably would have objected already, but as it is they don't dare."
"Good," said Lucius, grinning. He tilted her chin up to steal another kiss and it was several minutes before they spoke again.
"I suppose they'll simply have to be surprised, then," Lucius said slyly.
"Who?" Narcissa asked, still somewhat breathless.
"Your parents," he replied.
Narcissa stared at him a moment, then giggled. "You mean we'll simply inform them that we've decided to wed? No engagement, no warning, no time for adjustment?"
Lucius shrugged. "Well," he said mildly, "I'm sure it will take at least a few weeks to make all the arrangements for the ceremony. They can adjust to it during the preparations."
Narcissa laughed. "You really are horrible," she said, grinning.
Lucius returned the smile. "And you adore me for it," he told her, not for the first time. It was true; she really did.
It was much, much later and considerably darker when they resumed their interrupted discourse, Narcissa pinning her hair back up in preparation for returning to the ball. Lucius helpfully held the ribbons for her while she fussed with her tangled locks. She'd already retied the strip of green silk around his long ponytail, although he was unaware that she'd chosen a far more frilly, frivolous knot for his bow than the one he'd arrived wearing. She thought it looked dashing.
"You know I'm not my sister," Narcissa said quietly.
"I should hope not," said Lucius, one eyebrow arched smartly.
Narcissa slapped him lightly on the arm. "I meant Bellatrix!" she said tartly.
"So did I," replied Lucius; his voice was mild, but his gray eyes danced merrily.
Narcissa's blue ones rolled in exasperation. She stabbed the final pins into her hairdo and examined her reflection appraisingly in the small mirror she'd pulled out. Good enough, she decided, and turned back to her companion. "Well," she continued huffily, "you should know that I have no intention of getting involved in…politics," she said discreetly, "they way that Bella has."
"You don't object that I am, I hope?" Lucius asked quickly. Then the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smirk. "Only it may be a bit late for me to back out now," he added with a proud glance down at his left arm.
"No, of course not!" Narcissa replied. She rested her fingers lightly on Lucius's sleeve, knowing full-well what lay hidden beneath the soft fabric. Bella had shown hers off often enough.
Narcissa thought privately that it was an ugly design, but she still considered it to be a mark of honor that one was granted the right to bear such a thing, aesthetic or not. "I just wanted you to be aware that I don't wish to get involved in all that fuss myself. I've no problem supporting your efforts, mind; I'm used to that from Bella, and I've no disputes with anything I've heard so far. It's just more difficulty and effort than I've any interest in committing myself to, directly."
Lucius covered her hand with his own. "To be honest, darling," he said, "I'm actually relieved that you aren't planning on endangering yourself like that."
Narcissa frowned. "Lucius Malfoy," she said sharply, "I am perfectly capable of—"
"Of course you are!" he interrupted hurriedly. "I apologize if I implied otherwise, I certainly didn't intend to. I know you can handle yourself, dearest, and quite well." He grinned. "I still remember those birds you set on Yaxley two years ago."
Narcissa sniffed. "Well," she said primly, "he was being terribly annoying."
"Oh, he deserved all of it I'm sure," Lucius replied cheerfully, utterly unconcerned with his comrade's distress. "You may have noted that I was one of the many watchers applauding you."
Narcissa smiled. "Well. I'm flattered you noticed," she said coyly.
Lucius nodded, his eyes very bright. "I always noticed you," he said softly, and Narcissa flushed. "So I'm well aware of your capabilities, darling," he continued in a more normal tone of voice, "and I certainly don't mean to slight them." He shrugged. "I just know that I wouldn't be able to keep from worrying dreadfully if ever I suspected you were up to something risky, no matter how qualified I know you are, so frankly I'm just glad that I won't have to."
"And what's to stop me worrying about you?" Narcissa asked quietly.
"Well, I'll simply have to promise that I'll always come home safe," Lucius said, the warm, mischievous twinkle in his gray eyes taking the edge off his bluster. "That way you'll have my word about it, so you needn't worry a bit." He smiled and gently stroked her cheek, continuing quietly, "besides, how could I help but always return, if I had this to come home to?"
Narcissa blushed and lowered her eyes demurely. She wasn't much reassured but she was certainly appropriately flattered. She allowed Lucius to raise her hand to his lips, and she giggled at how serious he looked. He pulled her to her feet and they linked arms, sauntering slowly down the garden path and back towards the light and bustle of the ballroom. Their talk turned to lighter subjects and neither commented on the fact that they both kept a tight hold on one another throughout the long, gentle summer evening.