That night they were all settled in the common room, blithely occupying the best location by the fire as they felt was their right. Rodolphus was stretched insolently across a couch that could have comfortably seated four people, and Bella sat nearby, absently lighting the tails of the mice she was meant to be transfiguring into full-length novels on fire and watching them scurry about. Lucius was settled into the high-back chair he claimed as his own and Francesca sat in a squishy armchair pulled up beside his. As usual, she chattered about something Lucius could not even begin to make himself care about, and his attention wandered.
Snape was off by himself with a thick potions textbook, reading intently. Mulciber and Avery were playing Exploding Snap. And then there was Narcissa.
She was sitting rather out of the way, working or an essay. Her quill scratched across the parchment in bursts, and then she would paused, fidgeting as she thought about what to write next. It was the squirming that undid him: the rocking of her hips on the chair, the way she nibbled her lip, crossing and uncrossing her legs, pushing a hand through her hair...
"Can I help you with anything?" He leaned over, his breath warm on her neck. "You seem distracted."
"Oh, it's no good!" she exclaimed, tossing her quill down. "I can't focus on anything," she confessed, staring up at him. "I just feel so hot and bothered... It's stifling in this common room."
"Well," his eyes raked her unabashedly. "You are dressed rather heavily."
"You know what?" She rose slowly, gaze never leaving his. "You're quite right," she breathed, and let her outer robe drop from her shoulders. Biting her full lower lip, she began to unbutton her blouse, taking her time with each one, pushing the button through its hole with obscene care. All the while, her eyes never left his.
"That's better," she said softly as the shirt fell to the floor. "That takes care of the hot. But what about the bothered?"
Her hands were light as they skimmed across his chest, and she stood on her toes to brush her lips against his neck. "You want to help me with that?"
He nodded mutely and sank into the seat she'd just vacated. Grinning, Narcissa sank into his lap, and he feeling of her body against him, her slim thighs draped over either side of his hips, was almost too much. She let her head fall back, her long gold hair almost brushing his knees, as he moved his hands up her waist; she gave a shiver of delight and leaned into his touch. With a wicked glint in his eye, he reached around her to find the discarded quill, and began to sweep the feather teasingly across her throat, over her delicate collarbones and down to the swell of her breasts-
"Lucius." He looked down with a start. Francesca was kneeling by his feet and holding his hand, staring up at him imploringly. "Darling, we need to talk."
Lucius hated talks. "What is it?"
She glanced around, ascertaining that no one nearby was listening. "I love you," she began unsteadily.
"I love you too," Lucius replied automatically, having learned that this usually got the best response. Francesca shook her head, looking anguished.
"I know you do, Lucius. But I also know... I know you're something of a free spirit. For the years we've been together, I've never fooled myself into thinking that I could possess you, or forever take your mind from other women. Actually, you've been with me alone longer than I ever would have expected when we first started dating."
"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," he said slowly, eyeing her warily.
"What I'm trying to say is..." She exhaled sharply, and squeezed his hand just a bit tighter. "I've known for days now that it was someone; I just couldn't figure out who. But I hate that you look through me when we're making love, that you never hear a word I say because you're so distracted by... by... Narcissa Black."
He sat up straight in his chair, giving her an abrupt glare and looking around to see who else might have heard. "You be quiet," he snapped. "I have no interest in-"
"Lucius, I know you better than anyone else in the world! Of course I've seen you staring at her; if she passes by to closely, it's as if you've gone mute and deaf... She's pretty, I can see why you like her."
"Which I suppose leave us in a bit of a situation, doesn't it?" he asked dryly. Her eyes widened, and she clutched his fingers tighter still.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Lucius!" she whispered fervently. "It doesn't have to! The issue will come up once we're married, too, and I promise you, I can be the very picture of discretion. Of course, things are more difficult since we're in school, but once we're out and married, I swear I'll never get in your way. Look, I know you love me Lucius, I know you still think I'm beautiful and desirable, but I also understand that these things happen. Go do whatever it is that you need to with the little Black girl. I know that you'll still love me, and when you're done, I won't hold it against you."
Lucius stared at her in disbelief. This had to be a joke, or a trap, but Francesca wasn't this good of an actress. It was tradition amongst Pureblooded men to have mistresses or lovers other than their wives, but he doubted it was usually as plain-spoken as this. But then, he wasn't married to Francesca yet; perhaps she needed the terms to be clearly defined.
"Really?" he demanded. If she meant this, it would solve all his problems. He could seduce Narcissa without having to worry about Francesca hanging about, and he'd do so thoroughly enough that even Bellatrix wouldn't suspect any falsehoods. And then, after he'd had Narcissa to his heart's content -he felt a tightening in the muscles of his groin at the mere thought- he would come back to Francesca, and his life would be his again, no longer ruled by inexplicable fantasies about Narcissa Black.
Lucius cupped Francesca's cheek in his hand tenderly for a moment, and gave her a brief kiss that was far more affectionate than any he'd given her recently.
"Thank you," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. "You will make a perfect wife," he assured her. Then he stood up, and headed over to where Narcissa sat, not looking back to see the tears in Francesca's eyes.
"Narcissa?"
She gave a little start of surprise when he appeared at her elbow, but replied calmly. "Hello, Lucius."
"I'd like to talk to you for a moment," he announced, jamming his hands firmly into his pockets. "Perhaps we should go for a walk?"
For a moment, he worried she would say no. But she placed her quill on the table and stood up, primly smoothing out her skirt and nodding. "Alright, then."
The corridor was much quieter than the common room, and they walked in silence for several moments before Lucius announced, "You're a very good Prefect, Narcissa."
"Er... Thank you?"
"I felt it would be better to talk with you out here, because it's not strictly official what I wanted to tell you."
She waited.
"As Head Boy, I consider it a duty to keep an eye out for younger students I feel would be capable in a position of leadership once I leave. Now, I understand you are only in your fifth year, but I've already spoken to Slughorn, and he quite agrees that you would make an ideal Head Girl in two years time. He said he'll speak to Dumbledore on your behalf."
He eyes widened, and her face broke out into a dazzling grin.
"Oh... did you really?"
He nodded, the guilt in the pit of his stomach worth seeing that smile. She laughed and clapped her hands twice in delight, and Lucius knew he would lie a thousand times over for this reaction. In fact, the current Heads had no say at all in their successors, but she didn't know that. And by the time she realized he'd been untruthful, he would have a flourishing career in the Ministry, and possibly a wife.
"Thank you," she exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"
He had been right in guessing that she was studious and took pride in her work, and she was every bit as thrilled as he'd anticipated. "Now," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "it would probably be best for you not to mention this to anyone. You understand."
She bobbed her head in agreement, gaze still sparkling. "Of course. Not a word." Again, she beamed up at him. "I truly appreciate it."
He took several moments to blissfully absorb her happiness, but after a moment, she asked, "Was there anything else?"
He meant to say no. His plan was to take things slowly, to let her come to trust him in her own time lest he frighten her off. Instead, he blurted out, "Come to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"