You can't choose who you fall in love with, it just happens. Whether your parents like them or not.
Josette Marie Malfoy was both Irish and French, a very strange combination to say the least. She had the Irish harshness and the French poise, the Irish accent and French manner. She could snap with some sarcastic comment and make it seem as polite and demure as possible. Her fiery red hair stood out in the sea of blonde but her cold grey eyes held the Malfoy authority. She was the perfect blend of fire and ice, capable of being snobbish, cold and hard and at the same time she could be warm, coarse and inviting. Josette Marie Malfoy was the opposite woman and the best mother in the world.
It was her idea to put me into French lessons. I couldn't understand why. For, she never spoke French, father never spoke French. Why did I have to learn French?
"Mother, why do I have to learn French? Can't I just speak like you do?" I asked. She ruffled my hair and chuckled.
"You're right past learnin' to speak like me, child. You've got your father's dreadful pooh-pooh accent, I'm afraid."
"Pooh-pooh?"
"Aye, pooh-pooh. Just like the rest of yer father's family. All 'Dahling!' and 'Oh, I do declare!'" She waltzed about the room, imitating my aunts and uncles. Or, as she called it, pooh- poohing about. I laughed and watched. This was the side of my mother I loved. The fiery side, the real side.
My father leaned against the door and watched her. "Pooh-poohing again, are we?" He chuckled.
She turned around, dramatically. "But of course, dahling!" She began to snort and giggle, until she was out of control.
Father rolled his eyes, trying his best not to laugh. "You're a mad woman, Josie." He shook his head.
She collapsed onto the couch and pulled me onto her lap. "Och, aye. I'm mad. But yer stuck with me, I'm afraid."
Father smiled, his cold eyes warming. "Poor me."
Mother smiled too. "Aye, poor you."
They stayed like that for a long time, just gazing at each other. She was my father's world, the only one who could bring out the best in him. I had never seen him look at another human being the way he looked at my mother. Late at night, I would sneak out of bed and onto the balcony outside my window. I would look at the stars and wonder, would I ever find someone to look at me that way? Would I ever find someone like my mother? Someone to bring out the best in me?
Mother shook her head. "Ah! Is that the time? Come on Lucy, pick up yer feet!"
I quickly jumped of the couch and grabbed hold of my mother's hand. Father smiled and patted my head.
"You two have fun. And Josie, do stay out of trouble." He raised an eyebrow and cast my mother a stern look.
"Och, stop your cryin' Abraxas! I'm perfectly able to stand up for myself." She rolled her eyes as she put on her gloves.
Father sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That's what I'm afraid of…All I'm saying is don't lose your temper…"
Mother's head snapped up and she glared at my father. "You watch yer mouth now."
Father sighed, defeated. "Alright, Josie. Alright."
Mother smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She turned to me. "All ready then?"
"Yes, mother." I smiled.
She nodded, squeezed my hand and we aparated away.
I was never allowed to look at people on the street. My mother would tell me, "Don't look back. Hold yer head high. They're below us, ignore them." So, I did as she told me to. It was always strange, seeing people on the street. Not many people looked like mother or father, or anyone I knew. They wore strange clothes, and had strange devices in their shops. I never understood what was so bad about them, it was just that they were below me and I wasn't supposed to look at them. They had a name, the people on the street. Muggles, mother had called them. Father made it clear that he didn't like muggles.
When I asked why mother had said, "They're different, that's why." I didn't understand how they were different. They just were. I wish now that my parents had different views, that they weren't the way they were. Maybe things would have been better for me. I guess it's easy for me to blame them for the things I did, the choices I made. It's easier to spread the blame then just take it. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Once we got to the wizarding part of town we came upon a grand old Victorian house. I looked up at my mother.
"Is this the place, mother?"
She looked down and smiled at me. "Aye, this is the place."
A tall, dark woman came out to greet us, a warm and welcoming air about her. "Ah! Madame Malfoy! It iz a pleazure to see you again!" She spoke with a heavy French accent.
Mother smiled. "Likewise." She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "This is my son, Lucius." She nudged me forward. "Go on, say hello."
The woman knelt down to my height and shook my hand. "It iz a pleazure to meet you Lucius, I'm Madame Monet." Her chocolate eyes warmed as she smiled.
"Hallu." I smiled back. I quite liked this woman.
She stood back up to face my mother. "I can assure you he's in good hands here! The lesson should be over by three, will you be picking him up?"
Mother nodded. "Yes, how much for this lesson?"
"Twelve galleons."
Mother handed over the money and looked back down to me. "You be a good boy, mind yer manners. Ken?"
"Yes, mother." I said. Mother smiled politely and bid us farewell.
Madame Monet turned to face me. "Come along. We need to get started!" I took her hand as she led me into the house. It was not as grand as Malfoy Manor, well; nothing's as grand as Malfoy Manor. It was cozy, with a large library that seemed to go on for miles. It smelled of old books and coffee.
"How old are you, Lucius?" Madame Monet asked.
"Seven."
"Ah! Zat iz prime time to learn a new language!" She sat me down at a table in the middle of the library.
"Tell me, why did you choose..." She stopped mid-sentence and looked over my head. "Narcissa dear! Your mother iz not here yet?" I looked behind me. There was a young girl, no older then I, standing by the door. She looked at me with round blue eyes the color of the sky on a warm spring day. I felt my throat begin to tighten.
"No, Madame." Her voice was quiet and sweet, though with a hint of sadness. She tilted her head, looking at me again. "Who is he?"
"Thiz iz Lucius, he'z taking lessonz az well." She smiled. "Well, I guess we can get started. Narcissa, come and sit! You can help Lucius along!"
Narcissa smiled at Madame Monet and sat next to me, she smelled of vanilla. As Madame Monet babbled about verbs and words and whatever else comes along with a language, I began to like French lessons. Madame Monet was wonderful, learning the new language was fun, not to mention Narcissa was here.
"How about you two work on that assignment on your own a bit, Narcissa help Lucius." Madame Monet left the room muttering something about irresponsible parents being three hours late.
As we worked I finally plucked up the courage to talk to Narcissa. "How long have you been taking lessons?"
She didn't look up from her work, her long platinum hair covering her face. "For a year."
There was a long silence. "How come your mother's late?"
Narcissa stopped writing. "She forgets about me sometimes. A lot of people do." The last part she whispered.
I wondered how anyone would forget about her, I knew I wouldn't. "I won't forget about you." She looked up from her work and smiled at me. And that was how our friendship was born.
We spent the next hour reading and talking while Madame Monet watched us from behind her desk. Narcissa got down a book of French phrases. As I was looking through, one phrase caught my eye.
French: Car Je suis dingue de toi, belle demoiselle.
English: I'm so crazy about you, beautiful woman.
I smirked and looked over to Narcissa. "Car Je suis dingue de toi, belle demoiselle!" She glared at me as I laughed at her obvious embarrassment.
"Fermez la bouche gross pamplemousse!" she shoved me lightly and started to snigger.
"What's that mean?" I had the feeling that it was something awful.
"Look it up!" she was about to fall out of her chair.
I took the book and flipped through the pages until I found it.
French: Fermez la bouche gross pamplemousse!
English: Shut-up fat grapefruit!
Before long I was laughing as hard as Narcissa. We just sat there, laughing at our private joke, both in our own little world.
"Narcissa." A sharp voice cut through the room like a knife. We both stopped and looked up. Narcissa stopped smiling immediately and looked down.
"Mother." Her voice was cold and monotone. She had changed in a matter of seconds, no longer the sweet or giggling girl, Narcissa had turned to ice.
"Look up at me. It is most unbecoming for a young lady to look down upon her elders." This woman was tall and slim, with dark curly hair and equally dark eyes. If I had known then what I know now, I would have never let Narcissa go home with that woman.
"Yes mother." Narcissa sat rigidly still, her chin held high.
"Get your things, go on make haste. We are late enough as it is." She waved Narcissa off.
Madame Monet walked up to Narcissa's mother, a scowl on her face. "How nice of you to arrive, Mrs. Black. Tell me, what iz your excuse this time?" She snapped.
"I merely lost track of time, Miss. Monet." Mrs. Black stated in a bored tone.
"You are nearly five hourz late!" Madame growled.
"You will not use that tone with me Miss. Monet. I am of higher class and deserve your allegiance."
"Thiz iz ze last time I will stand for this, Mrs. Black! She iz your child! How can you just simply forget about her?" Madame Monet was shouting now.
"What is goin' on here?" Mother entered the room, a concerned look on her face.
"Mrs. Malfoy." Mrs. Black sneered.
"Mrs. Black." Mother scowled at the dark haired woman. Narcissa entered the room again.
"Come, Narcissa." Mrs. Black barked. She grabbed Narcissa's hand and sent a cold glare towards my mother before turning to leave. Narcissa sent me a sad glance before she left the room with her mother.
Mother gave a curt nod to Madame Monet before we left as well. She walked fast, holding onto my hand tightly, not saying a word. Quickly, she aparated us home.
We stood in the foyer, silent. Mother sighed and looked down at me.
"I don't want you talkin' to that Narcissa Black. You hear me?"
"Why, mother?"
"Because I said so!" She snapped. I was taken aback. She hardly ever used that tone with me. My eyes filled with tears.
"Och…I'm sorry." She knelt down and brushed the tears off my cheeks. "Lucius, you'll learn that there are people in this world that are not our friends. Your father and Mr. Black used to be very good friends until Mr. Black did something very bad and…and…Just don't talk to her."
More tears rolled down my face. "But…She's my friend, mother."
"She's a Black. Yer not to be friends with a Black, yer father would never forgive you."
I sniffled. "Yes mother…"
She smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Good boy, now go on and clean up. Dinner should be ready soon."
I nodded and went up to my room, with full intentions of talking to Narcissa Black again. For, I had found someone who brought out the best in me and I wasn't about to let her go.
-I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks to LuciusNarcissa for reviewing! PLEASE REVIEW!-