Again, just for orientation, the birthdays for this piece are as follows:
Bellatrix: March 1954
Lucius: October 1954
Andromeda: August 1955
Narcissa: April 1958
Autumn, 1975
Lucius's mother had always been meddlesome, but even he could not have thought she would go so far as to set him up on a date with the little Black girl. He had been so relieved when Andromeda Black had run off with that Mudblood from their year. It was a humbling experience for the proud Blacks and his ticket out of that whole bloody family. Cygnus Black had failed to provide him with a wife, and he, Lucius, had been set free.
Or so he had thought. As it turned out, he had overlooked, or rather forgotten, that the Black family had three daughters, not two. He had underestimated his mother's tenacity. No sooner had Andromeda Black taken a Muggle surname than he was informed that he would be married to Narcissa Black upon her completion of Hogwarts, that his opinion on the matter was not necessary (not that he failed to give it), and that his great-great-grandfather's ring had been placed on her fingers.
He hadn't bothered to attend this event. It was seen as a great offense, he knew, but he had been too busy seething to care.
He hadn't been prepared for the third Black girl. Lucius had come to this café half wishing, half dreading her arrival. Though this was his first appointment (for whatever his mother thought, it was not a date) with her, he had met her on two previous occasions and known her sisters for far longer than he ever would have wished to. He really couldn't care any less for the family's high status; if you met one, you met all three, and as far as he was concerned, he would be better pitching himself off the Astronomy Tower than wedding any of the Black girls.
He was sick and tired of these bloody Black girls!
And yet…
She wasn't at all what he thought she would be. She was smart. They discussed British history in depth, and she corrected his dates on more than a couple of occasions as they went over the Muggle-wizarding wars and goblin rebellions. What was more, she could hold her own in a political debate – not that they debated much, as her opinions matched his own, but in any case, it was so very refreshing to have a companion who was his equal in intellect, knowledge, and wit. Quite against his will, he found her fascinating. She was refined, tactful, and observant. There were moments in their conversations where he found himself interested in their conversation, even enjoying himself.
And she was pretty. He didn't want to be, but he was attracted to her nevertheless: alabaster skin, golden hair, and the deepest blue eyes he could ever remember seeing. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, and it was so very tantalizing, the way they disappeared into her skirt, the way she would expose her long neck every time she tossed her hair over her shoulder. She would lift her teacup to her mouth, delicate fingers curled around the handle, and her little finger would lift; he wondered whether this was a conscious decision or simply a force of habit. After every bite of her scone, her tongue would flick across her painted lips to gather any remaining crumbs; he couldn't help but wonder if they tasted as sweet as they looked. And when their fingers met, both en route for the sugar, he thought…
Well, he rather thought he saw her blush.
In the hour or so that he had been sitting there with her, munching on scones and sipping tea, he had had to remind himself all of eight times that the witch across from him was a vile little thing, that she was sure to be willful and brash when given the chance, and that she would never, ever amount to the type of woman he would take as a wife.
No matter how enchanting, he must never forget that Narcissa was a Black.
"Narcissa?"
They looked up at the mention of her name to find a tall boy in black school robes, an emblem with an eagle on his chest peering down at her warmly, and Narcissa rose from her seat at once.
They embraced. She was smiling – not the tight-lipped, polite sort she had been giving him but the full, lips-drawn-back, eye-crinkling, radiant-faced ones. The boy (for that's what he was, just some lanky, half-grown schoolboy) focused on her completely, eyes drinking her in like she was an elixir. His eyes flickered over to where Lucius sat, and for a second his face darkened before returning to Narcissa once more. Then Lucius knew – he just knew – that whatever relationship these two had, Schoolboy was not over her.
Well, Lucius would just have to remind Schoolboy that whatever he had shared with Narcissa was history, and it would not be repeated.
"Oh, forgive me," Narcissa said, angling herself so that her shoulders were open to both wizards. "Erek, this is Lucius Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy, this is Erek Goldstein."
In that moment, Lucius really wished he had dropped the formalities right at the start of their engagement. He could not remember another time in his life in which he wanted a woman to address him by his first name so much.
Schoolboy's eyes were hard as they appraised him, and Lucius had to bite back the condescending sneer threatening to take over his features. Any other time, he wouldn't have given someone like Schoolboy a second glance, least of all the chance to unnerve him; here was a little boy who couldn't hope to compete with all Lucius Malfoy had attained and represented. It was beneath someone like Lucius! But this was Narcissa' acquaintance and he would play nice…
For now.
"Mr. Goldstein," Lucius said by way of greeting, rising to his feet and offering a hand. Schoolboy took it grudgingly, his fingers curling firmly around Lucius's hand in a tight grip. Lucius could have laughed as he squeezed the boy's hand even tighter, matching and then usurping his grip. Let the little boy play this game! Lucius would win at every round.
"Malfoy," Schoolboy said with a grimace. They unclasped hands.
"Erek is in my year at Hogwarts," Narcissa said, apparently unaware of the competition of dominance that had just begun on her behalf. "He's hoping to be accepted onto the Board of School Governors after Hogwarts and implement a more uniform, standardized curriculum. If he's accepted, he'll be the youngest governor since Frederic the Fair."
Schoolboy beamed at her praise. Foolish boy, Lucius thought. Any moment now, anyone would think he was going to start blushing and gushing like a schoolgirl. It was pathetic! And yet…a small part of Lucius couldn't help but wonder what sort of praise Narcissa awarded him, if any at all. Suddenly, he very much wanted to be within her favour.
Both Narcissa and Schoolboy were gazing at him expectantly.
Lucius forced his lips into a smile and pushed away all the snide comments racing through his mind. However satisfying it would be to wipe that off that smug expression on Schoolboy's face (with a well-aimed hex, for example), he had to remained calm, dignified, polite.
"How nice."
He could think of nothing else to say that would not offend Narcissa in the process.
"What are you doing here with Cissy, then?" Schoolboy asked, and Lucius could hear the challenge ringing in his voice loud and clear. Something ferocious snarled within him.
Cissy? Cissy? How dare he show such disrespect! She was a woman, not some doe-eyed schoolgirl! She was a lady, a respectable, noble-bred witch, not some poor half-blood scrubbing cauldron-scum for her keep! She deserved respect! She deserved reverence! She deserved adoration! She deserved-
"Miss Black is here on my invitation, Mr. Goldstein. I have been abroad recently, first on tour and then business, for most part of the year – though, not the better part." Her eyes were on him, he could feel them, and he glanced to his right to meet them. Wide blue eyes, sharp and intense, calculating his words, his mood, his intentions. He hoped she could sense his sincerity. "Miss Black agreed to meet me today so that we may enjoy the afternoon and discuss our engagement."
Lucius watched with pleasure as Schoolboy's expression whirled through surprise, disgust, anger, and then, after a glance at Narcissa's left hand to verify that there was, in fact, a ring on it, disappointment. He mumbled a congratulation that was barely audible, and Lucius reveled in it.
"Well," Schoolboy said stiffly, "I hope your business doesn't take you away the following weekend. There will be a ball in a fortnight to celebrate the autumn equinox, and Headmaster Dumbledore has already stated that he would grant special permission to older students. It would be a pity if you couldn't go."
Something in his voice made it very clear to Lucius that Schoolboy would not think it a pity at all, but this did not trouble Lucius. He was suddenly filled with an overwhelming amount of gratitude towards the old headmaster of Hogwarts. The man was still a crackpot, Muggle-loving fool, of course, but in that moment, he was the best thing that ever could have happened at Hogwarts.
"Anyone who's anyone is going," Schoolboy continued. He was looking at Narcissa now. "I'm sure you'll be there, Cissy, being top of our year and Head Girl and everything."
Lucius scowled. The idiot was grasping for straws now. Of course Narcissa was top of her class! She was surely the brightest witch in the school, and he could have told anyone that without having ever been in a classroom with her. Nevertheless, he filed this information away.
"I will be, actually. I received my permission slip last week."
"You'll save me a dance, yeah?"
It was the closest he could get to inviting her with Lucius standing right beside her. Lucius didn't care for it, but kept his expression neutral. Wizards were allowed to ask married and even witches that were already promised to another man for a dance – just not too many.
"Of course," Narcissa answered. Schoolboy smiled with equal spite and relief.
"Brilliant! Well, I really must be going now. Things to do…"
He gave his excuses, but Lucius wasn't listening. He was watching as Narcissa leaned forward and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder to balance herself as she pecked his cheek. Schoolboy's hand found her waist, holding her close, lingering there even as she stepped back. When the boy turned to Lucius, he must have said something, but Lucius couldn't hear him over the roaring in his ears and the thrashing serpent in his chest…
Lucius gripped the outstretched hand, hard, and he got a good view of Schoolboy shaking his hand as he exited the café.
He hoped he broke a few fingers.
Lucius waited until Narcissa was settled comfortably in her seat, one leg crossed over the other, before lowering himself into his own. Suddenly, this date (for that's what it was, not some informal appointment) was the best thing his meddling mother could have gifted him. It was time to take charge and woe this woman properly.
"Do you like to dance, Miss Black?" he asked in what he hoped was a collected and respectable tone of voice.
"I do, very much so."
Lucius cleared his throat. This was it.
"I wonder if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball."
She frowned at him from across the table, and his stomach sunk. Had he said something wrong? Or maybe his change in mood was too sudden – did she think him too bold? Curses, had he messed this up before it had even begun?
"Are betrothed not usually assumed to be attending an event together?" she asked. He took a second to think over his reply.
"Arranged marriages are really quite antediluvian, do you not think? A witch of your breeding and intellect should be free to accept invitations as she decides fit. Though, of course, I do hope that you will consent to going with me?" He mentally kicked himself; he had not meant for that last sentence to come out as a question!
She regarded him coolly for a moment, and Lucius wished that he could guess what she was thinking. He swallowed. Then:
"I would be happy to accompany you, Mr. Malfoy."
And then she smiled: an eye-crinkling, teeth-flashing, radiant-faced sort of smile.
"And please," she purred, reaching for her cup, "call me Narcissa."
Lucius's insides soared.
It was the most beautiful thing he had heard in his life.
This collection has been my first time writing for Lucius, and I don't know about you, but I find him so much fun to write! He's such a fool for Narcissa, no matter what he wants to think. ;)
Your thoughts are much appreciated.
