Hogsmeade and Bubblehead Charms

23 February 1970

"So what are your doing for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Rabastan, we're sixth years. Haven't Honeydukes and Zonko's started boring you yet?" Lucius rolled his eyes at his friend's question. Besides, it was only Tuesday, and he didn't really feel like starting a conversation this late at night. When he was in the Slytherin dormitories it was because he wanted to sleep, not because he wanted to chit-chat.

"Of course Zonkos's is old, I didn't mean that." Now it was Rabastan Lestrange's turn to roll his eyes. "I meant who are you taking as a date?"

Lucius gave an annoyed sighed and buried his head in his pillow. Really, he just wanted to sleep. Couldn't Rabastan shut his trap for once? "You know very well I'm not taking anyone," his muffled response came.

"You need to get over your fear of rejection, mate," he stated matter-of-factly.

The door to the dormitory opened and both Slytherin boys looked up to see Amycus Carrow enter and shuffle towards his bed and trunk. "I've told you before, I'm not afraid of rejection," Lucius exasperatedly continued his conversation with Rabastan. Carrow glanced over his shoulder in their direction at the words, and inwardly Lucius felt a wave of repulsion. Must Carrow eavesdrop on their conversation so blatantly? Carrow was already the outsider of the sixth-year Slytherin boys; he may have been pure of blood, but he was no pureblood. He did not have the wealth, the culture, necessary to be a pureblood. He was from the lower classes, and everything he did—from the way he dressed, to the way he carried himself—caused him to be a world, almost a species, apart from all of the pureblood Slytherins.

Rabastan continued without so much as a glance towards the outsider. "You know, my brother heard from Bella herself that Narcisssa Black is interested in you. You should ask her to Hogsmeade."

"Bella?"

"No, you sod. Narcissa."

Lucius rolled over and gave his friend a steady, annoyed glance that was interrupted only by his reflexive glancing at the dormitory door as it opened. Macnair strode into the room and took out a set of nightclothes from his trunk without giving any obvious signs of eavesdropping on Lucius and Rabastan's conversation. "I'm not interested in Narcissa Black," Lucius exasperatedly told his friend. Really, he did want to try and fall asleep soon, and he probably could have slept through the commotion of the opening and closing door if Rabastan wasn't still talking. But he had a feeling Rabastan wasn't going to drop the conversation.

"You'll become interested in her, I promise. I mean, she's a Black, you can't do much better in terms of wealth and blood. Besides," he added almost as an afterthought, "If you two end up wedding then we'll brothers, what with Rodolphus married to Bella."

Lucius gave a snort of a laugh. "If that's your motivation, I'm sure there are already plenty of ways in which we're related. And what if I take her to Hogsmeade and I don't start liking her? I don't even know what one does on a date." Out of the corner of his eye he could see Macnair changing into his night clothes. Most boys changed discretely in the washroom, but not Macnair. Then again, it wasn't exactly as though Macnair had anything to be ashamed of. Years of being one of the Slytherin Team's Beaters had given him a lean figure. Not grotesquely bulging with muscles like some sort of obsessive body builder, but a lean, cut, figure, with well-defined biceps and pectorals that looked as though they were chiseled from marble. That was it—he looked like an ancient Greek statue. No, he looked more like a Greek God, with a near-sheen to his handsomely, breath-takingly well-built body.

"Earth to Lucius. Hey, are you listening?"

"Pardon?" Lucius jerked out of his reverie to hear his friend Rabastan speaking.

"Mate, have you really never been on a date?"

"I don't know why you care so much, but no, I haven't," Lucius gave an annoyed sigh.

"Why?" Rabastan disbelievingly uttered. "You're a Malfoy. You could have half of the girls in the school at your feet if you wanted."

He gave a smirk. That was true. He was a Malfoy. Power, blood and money had a way of bringing you a long way in this world. "I promise to you, the second I am interested in a girl I will ask her to Hogsmeade, alright?" He did not even find it necessary to include the adjective "pureblood"; he knew he could never be interested in anyone except a pureblood.

"See, this is your fear or rejection rearing its ugly head again. I refuse to believe that a sixteen year-old boy has never been interested in a girl. Tell you what, ask Narcissa Black to Hogsmeade, and I'll get off your back. I promise you that you'll be happier once you just suck it up and ask a girl out on date."

"Fine. I'll ask her. Now will you let me sleep?"

"Certainly."

Lucius sighed, happy to have the conversation resolved and glanced up from his pillow again. He could practically feel Carrow staring at him. Was Carrow planning on feeding Hogwart's rumor mill? He didn't seem the type, but one never knew with those that hadn't had a proper, respectable upbringing. They could be quite unpredictable.

27 February 1971

Lucius nervously shuffled his feet and twirled the conjured flower between his fingers. If he had to wait much longer for Narcissa, the flower was going to be in shreds before she arrived to receive it. Then again, he had arrived at the front of the castle—their designated meeting place—almost fifteen minutes early. One of the manners his father had instilled in him was to always be early—five minutes early at least, and the earlier the better, and he was sure Narcissa has been similarly instructed growing up. Therefore, he would be left waiting a maximum of ten minutes. Therefore, he had only been waiting less than ten minutes, even it seemed to stretch infinitely longer than that.

Several minutes spent twirling the flower between his fingers later, Narcissa Black finally arrived and graciously accepted the slightly battered flower from Lucius's hands. Lucius, in an attempt to impress her, greeted her with the words, "Narcissa, you look absolutely lovely today. Undoubtedly the object of affection for half of the school population, and an object of envy for the other half."

The corners of Narcissa's mouth turned up into a smile as she thanked him. It struck Lucius that he probably should have checked that she was in at least some state of appearance where such a compliment would be accepted as genuine. He quickly glanced at her: semi-formal robes, high quality of course, and traces of make-up on her face. Yes, she had put specific effort into her appearance; no wonder his compliment had gone over well.

"Mademoiselle?" Lucius offered his arm and together they walked towards Hogsmeade.

24 May 1971

"Considering how lukewarm you were about your first date with Narcissa, you two are quite the couple now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lucius asked Rabastan among the pre-class chatter that filled their Charms classroom.

The chatter soon diminished when Professor Flitwick's tiny voice came from the front of the classroom. "Now class, quiet up! Class? Class, please!" the last sound of chattering finally dissipated, giving him the (mostly) undivided attention of his students. "We're going to start by continuing practicing the bubble-head charms we started last session. And, ah, I want to inject some variety into our practice session, so your new partners are listed up here."

Lucius and Rabastan both scanned the list before exchanging displeased looks. "I'm paired with a Mudblood," Rabastan spat, disgust etched into his features. "He's probably going to curse my head off in his attempt to cast the bubblehead charm. Oh, wait, he probably doesn't have enough magic to curse my head off. At least I'll be safe, I suppose, just tethered to a woefully inadequate partner."

"Next to that, me being paired with Carrow seems downright pleasant," Lucius replied, his eyes fixed on the line that read Malfoy/Carrow.

"Let's at least sit next to each other," he grumbled, elbowing his way through the small crowd of students gathered around the partner list. "Our partners can find us."

"So what did you mean?" Lucius questioned, still wary and annoyed by Rabastan's previous comment.

Rabastan blinked. "Sit. Next. To. Each. Other. You see how you're at the desk next to mine? That's generally referred to as 'sitting next to each other.' People do it with their friends. Or, in the soon-to-be case, with their Mudbloods of partners."

"Not that," Lucius rolled his eyes. Had his friend already forgotten what they were previously talking about? "Why are you surprised that Narcissa and I are a couple? You didn't think that I would be able to keep a Black?"

Rabastan gave him a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look. "Lucius, I never doubted you'd be able to keep Black. You have the three requirements for a perfect relationship with her: the upbringing, the blood and the money. I just meant that I find it amusing that you and her are inseparable now when I remember when you came back from your first date. Said you didn't understand what the big fuss about dating was," he gave a laugh as though this was the most ridiculous idea he had heard in a long time.

His ego assuaged, Lucius felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a small grin. Upbringing, blood, and money. Yes, he and Narcissa had all three of those. "Well, Narcissa's very affectionate," Lucius replied in a disinterested, dismissive sort of way, as though that was a sufficient response. Yes, he remembered telling Rabastan he didn't understand how obsessed people were with dating. Had thought but not spoken aloud that he didn't understand the obsession with kissing, either. It had been—was still nothing more than skin on skin, and he didn't understand why people would write poems about such a thing, obsess about how to obtain them, and even go the extent of imbibing alcohol in order to increase their probability of receiving one. It wouldn't have been proper for him to tell anyone this, though, not even his friend. He vaguely wondered if everyone felt this way. Really, what was all of the fuss about?

"Malfoy, as lovely as it is hearing about your girlfriend, I'm here to practice charms, not be updated on the ongoings of Hogwarts' social network," Carrow sniffled in a whiny sort of way.

Lucius's brow creased with a flash of annoyance at Carrow's impudence before he heard Rabastan loudly complain, "Did my Mudblood get lost on the way to our seats? Bloody hell, he must know what I look like. How could he not know who I am? I'm a Lestrange." Maybe having Carrow as his partner wasn't so bad after all; after all, at least he was pure of blood.

"As you wish, Carrow. If you would grant me the honor of starting," Lucius gave a silky smile. An inadequate bubble charm could unintentionally deplete the air surrounding the person's head, and he would much rather be on the dealing than the receiving end of that. "Bulle dair," he lazily waved his wand.

Lucius's eyes flitted about the features of Carrow's face, checking for any sign of a shortage of air. It struck him that he had never really looked at Carrow; he had automatically assumed Carrow would have troll-like features, as though one's appearance was directly correlated to one's net worth. Most likely he would not be the school heart-throb any time soon, but his defined cheekbones, the liquid pools of ebony that were his eyes and his tossled dark hair all made him have a certain aura of attractiveness about him.

Wait, attractive?

No. Not attractive. Men could not be attractive. Narcissa. Yes, Narcissa was attractive.

Besides, even if Carrow had an—er—well, not poorly constructed face (yes, that was a sufficiently neutral way to describe the boy sitting across from him) he certainly could not be considered attractive with the rather squat figure he cut. No, he wasn't like, say, Macnair at all. Macnair the near Greek-God with his well defined Beater muscles. He vaguely wondered if Macnair ever took his shirt off during Quidditch practices.

Er. No. Not wondering. He was not wondering that at all. What was he supposed to be thinking about? Ah, yes, Carrow. No, not Carrow. Charms. The charm he had cast on Carrow! That was it. Carrow was not obviously turning red (or purple) yet, nor had he made any gestured death threats to Lucius, so it would seem that he still had enough air to breath. A moment later Carrow's dark eyes narrowed and the corners of his pinkish lips tensed slightly, so with a second gesture of his wand, Lucius wordlessly removed the bubblehead charm. "Well?" he drawled, as though he could not care less what Carrow thought of his charm.

"A bit more air near the end would have been nice," Carrow stated, slightly pursing his lips from annoyance. Without waiting for a reply, or an invitation to continue, Lucius saw his view of the world become slightly distorted by the presence of a bubble surrounding his head and felt the air surrounding his head be replaced by a stale-tasting version. Now it was Carrow who scrutinized Lucius's face, his dark eyes hesitating on Lucius's icy blue ones before lingering on the other details of the Malfoy's face. Air. Undoubtedly Carrow was analyzing if Lucius had enough air.

…

A/N: So when drafting this story it occurred to me that I could develop all of the events and characters more gradually and turn into a longer story. Buuut, seeing as I just finished a 100,000 word story (under my other account), I kind of feel like writing something relatively short. In other words, expect this story is going to move quickly. Another quick note: this falls under tat1312's Rare Pairings challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum.