14 years old - The Black family home
Bellatrix was soon to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, following the tradition of the old society in an arranged marriage. Her older sister had seemed fine with the proceedings, having become more involved in the pure blood cause over the last few years. She disclosed little about it, but Narcissa could tell that she was happy to be entering into a marriage with someone as devoted to her beliefs as she was. When her father had told her that she was also betrothed, Narcissa felt her face fall.
Lucius Malfoy was to marry her once they left Hogwarts. Another pure blood marriage to satisfy the society.
Tucked away at the top of the first floor staircase, Narcissa sat huddled up, her knees to her chest. The crying had been going on for a good twenty minutes, her light make up running slightly underneath her eyes. No one bothered to follow her, and she was sure she heard her mother call her a pathetic child as she left the room after the announcement. It had just startled her — Narcissa had grown up assuming that she might be able to love someone, but that was shattered that evening. A good marriage was all she was destined for. Not love, not choice, but an arranged marriage with no out. It had been so quick that she barely had time to breathe.
Footsteps creaked on the old staircase, causing Narcissa to briefly look up. A boy her age — Lucius — was coming towards her. The young woman sniffed in and wiped her eye on the sleeve of her robes, hoping some of her tears would be hidden.
"They've stopped discussing you," he said, coming to sit beside her. Lucius brushed back his platinum blond hair, looking awkwardly over to his future wife. For the both of them, it was unnerving. This was obviously foreign territory, so she didn't expect all that much. The young man cleared his throat and looked down at his own dress robes, "I understand your worry. One day we're classmates, the next we're being told we're getting married."
Narcissa looked over to him and nodded, a small smile creeping onto her face. "It wasn't about you. Just… I thought I might be able to find someone I loved to marry," she explained. It was not her intention to offend him by any means. Lucius was a Slytherin in her year, so they had interacted for years now. It was just a big shift. An upheaval even.
Lucius nodded and reached over to wipe her eyes, "Everyone does this. We're not special," he told her, watching as she nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't be sure that love won't come into things eventually," he added quietly.
"Right," she said with a soft smile. Lucius stood and offered his hand to her. They defended the stairs together, and Narcissa suddenly felt that the arrangement might not be the end of the world.
16 years old - Slytherin Common Room
As soon as Narcissa stormed in in tears, the dungeons cleared out, save for Lucius. He immediately took her into his arms, rubbing her back as she let out a chilling sob. He had no idea what could be going on with her to make her this upset, but he knew it was bad. Narcissa was polished and hid her feelings well, a trait which was valued in their world. His hands ran over her back as he began soaking the shoulder of his robe with her tears.
"What's wrong, 'Cissa?" he asked quietly, stroking over her hair. Lucius tangled his finger in her loose blonde locks, hoping she might calm down for just a moment so they could talk. "Talk to me, I can help," he assured.
Narcissa pulled her head away and looked up at her boyfriend, eyes still red and flooded with tears. "It's Andromeda," she said quietly. "She's running away with that mudblood Ted Tonks! Ruining everything — betraying our family!" she exclaimed, tears starting back up again as she thought about what was happening to her. "It's not fair! She's… She's my sister, how could she do this?" she asked, curling back up to Lucius.
The young man nodded and pulled her down to a sofa in the common room, holding her close as she cried again. Narcissa buried her face in his chest, now wetting the shirt he was wearing. "Don't worry about her. She's a blood traitor, she doesn't deserve the energy. She doesn't deserve a sister like you," he told her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
Looking up, Narcissa frowned and sniffed in, "She's my sister, I can't just— How am I supposed to just forget that? When she tells my family they're going to curse her out of the house, but… she's my best friend I can't just abandon her!" The young woman sat up straight and wiped her eyes, "What she's doing is so wrong. I mean, all our parents ever talk about it maintaining the bloodline and Andromeda is completely betraying that! But she wouldn't do that for no reason. He can't just be some fling, she must love him." Saying the words made her shudder. The idea of loving a mudblood was despicable to her. It wasn't what good daughters of the ancient and noble houses did by any stretch of the imagination. She'd be regarded no better than the Prewett girl for so frivolously giving up on her status to marry someone with such strong associations to muggles.
"It's wrong," Lucius insisted, passing over a handkerchief for Narcissa to wipe her eyes with, "but I know you love her. Maybe she'll come to her senses and realise what she's doing, but until then you mustn't worry yourself. You didn't do this to her, that filthy Hufflepuff is the one leading her astray."
Narcissa nodded and shuffled closer to Lucius, tucking herself into the crook of his arm. She knew the devastation of Andromeda's betrayal wouldn't leave her, but it could be soothed knowing she had Lucius there to comfort her.
19 years old - The gardens of Malfoy Manor
Emotion was unbecoming of a pureblood woman. Narcissa sniffed in quietly as she linked arms with her new husband, wiping away each tear as it came. They had both wanted some time away from his parents, so decided to take a walk in the extensive grounds of the home they had been given by his parents. Narcissa hadn't envisioned that Lucius would end up detailing his exploits with the Death Eaters. He was a new recruit, joining the ranks of dark magic with her sister and her husband. Narcissa had never expressed an interest in it — she believed in blood purity, but not to the extent that she could abandon her duties in her home to fight for the Dark Lord.
Lucius was so liberal in telling her of the torture others were inflicting on muggleborns and even half-bloods. Her mind drifted to Andromeda briefly; her husband a mudblood, her one year old daughter a half blood. Her kind and caring sister would be devastated if this was happening to her family. It would kill her to know that her own sister or one of her sisters' spouses was carrying out such deeds. That had been when the tears started. They were unexpected, and Narcissa in no way wanted them to be mistaken for sympathy to the victims. Status meant a lot to her, it was instilled in her since birth by everyone around her.
Her husband glanced over at her, raising his eyebrows at her tears, "Don't overreact, they deserve it for defiling the wizarding world." His eyes then focused away from her, guiding his wife towards another part of the never-ending landscape. "If this about that disgusting sister of yours, then stop it this instant. She brought this danger onto herself," he added.
No, she didn't, Narcissa thought to herself. Andromeda didn't deserve that pain, but she feared that one day Lucius would let it slip that someone had picked up Ted Tonks. It wouldn't be as easy to hide her emotion if it was reality. "It's not her," she lied, looking around at the greenery surrounding them, "I just prefer not to hear about you using such awful curses."
23 years old - Malfoy Manor
After the miscarriage, Narcissa had barely left their bedroom. The travel back from St Mungo's was the last time she had walked through the main halls of the grandiose building. The idea of calling herself the lady of the manor felt fraudulent now. She couldn't manage the one duty expected of her. Give him an heir. Merge two pure blood lines. Become a mother.
Her days now were spent crying for the child she lost, ignoring the elves and Lucius whenever they came near her. The grief just felt too consuming. It was impossible to stop the tears once they began, and all week she had been struggling with composing herself long enough to get out of bed. Every attempt ended in failure. Her hair had knots through it now, and she felt unclean, but she could not bring herself to wash off the past few days. It was like forgetting, and she wasn't ready to do that just yet.
If Lucius heard her cry for too long, he often abandoned his tasks at home to sit with her. They stayed in silence, excluding the noise of Narcissa's cries, but it was reassuring. At least he could stand to be near her. If he thought she had failed him, he did well to conceal it. His hand lingered near her back, but she only ever moved to stop him. It felt as though she wasn't worthy of being touched.
As he walked in on the Thursday afternoon, Lucius was instantly by her side, hoping to end her cries. It pained him to see her so broken, but he himself couldn't stand it anymore. They had lost a child — a tragedy by anyone's standards — and it was affecting both of them. "Cissa, darling, you need to get up," he said quietly, fingers going to the ends of her hair. Instantly, she swiped his hand away, turning further over on her side. The pillow muffled her crying somewhat, but Lucius was growing frustrated of it. The halls echoed with her sadness.
"For goodness sake, talk to me!" he urged, placing his hand on his wife's shoulder. Lucius pulled her over slightly, only to be fought off by Narcissa. She rolled back, kicking her legs a little in the hopes he might back off.
The young woman sniffed and shook her head, "Leave me alone. I don't want to speak to you. Now is not the right time, I'm still hurting."
Lucius instantly rose from the bed, pacing in his brief anger, "You aren't the only one who's hurting, Narcissa! Merlin, you think I'm fine? We lost a baby, I'm not fine and I want to discuss that with my wife!"
"I don't want to discuss it," Narcissa replied, quiet and still shaking with her sobs. "Just get out, Lucius! Leave me be!"
Lucius run a hand over his eyes, "I will. I'll leave." The man left the bedroom, slamming the heavy door. Narcissa flinched and turned to her side again, glad that she could, once again, be isolated.
25 years old - St. Mungo's Hospital
Draco has terribly strong lungs. The instant he came into the world, his cries pierced the room's atmosphere. Narcissa cradled the screaming infant, tears falling rapidly from her own eyes as his little limbs kicked and jerked. He was perfect; pale skinned and fair haired just like his parents. Narcissa couldn't bring herself to calm down as the mediwitch took her newborn son to be checked over.
Emotion overwhelmed her as he was lifted from her arms, and Narcissa began to cry harder. Even she was unsure if the tears were born of joy or sadness. A junior mediwitch headed out of the room, instructed to bring Lucius back to the room. A few tissues were handed in the way of the new mother, but they did little to mop up the heavy tears rolling from her eyes. When Lucius burst in, it was the first thing he noticed. That was the only prompting he needed to rush to her side.
"Cissa, don't," he said with a smile, kissing her forehead. "You know I can't stand it when you cry," he told her, clearing away the used tissues from around her. Though not a job usually associated with a man of his status, Lucius was happy to do it. Narcissa meant the world to him — had done for almost a decade — so he never hesitated to help her if she needed it. Lucius pushed back her hair and kissed her again, hoping it might calm his wife down slightly. "Well done," he praised, sitting on the chair someone had pushed closer to the bed for him. Over her, he could see his newborn son being weighed and measured. He mentally noted the number of tiny fingers and toes he could see (enough, he assured himself — some just weren't clear), bursting with pride. His son had arrived safely.
The mediwitch returned with a clean and wrapped baby, smiling brightly, "Indeed. He's perfectly healthy, a good size." Narcissa took him, her eyes still watering slightly as her perfect little boy came back into vision. Her finger stroked over his plump little cheek, tears subsiding. His little arms wriggled still, rubbing over his features. This little thing was all hers. It almost didn't make sense. He was the only grandchild her parents recognised (Andromeda had a little girl, but that didn't repair any relationships) and he was hers. Theirs.
Lucius leaned closer and pulled the blanket back slightly to get a better view. His son — Draco, as they had decided on — was everything he had wished for. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you," he said quietly, kissing his wife's lips afterwards.
"Thank you," Narcissa said, sniffing in again. Her eyes were puffy and red, but she didn't care. They had their son. Their worlds had changed. Nothing else in the world mattered.