"Mort… Mort, darling, can you help me translate this Rune? I can't find it anywhere in the book…"
"Narcissa, love, you know I got a 'P' in Ancient Runes… Bloody useless subject," he grumbled as an afterthought. Narcissa grinned.
"I know. I just love making you say it, since I have an 'O'." She leaned across the table to kiss him. "So, what will you be up to today?"
"Quidditch. Malfoy's already called for the first practice- but I doubt we'll even get to fly today. Probably go over all the scheduling and strategies for the season- we've got the same exact team as last year and we won every game. But of course, nothing as insignificant as that would convince Malfoy to give us a bit of slack. Dictator that one is, I tell you."
"Well," she brushed her lips against his cheek again. "Have fun."
"…And the Ravenclaws have lost half their team to graduates, and will have a disadvantage of training new members. Hufflepuff-"
"Honestly Malfoy, the Hufflepuffs are useless duffers, we don't need to worry about-"
"Enough, Yaxley. You're fortunate that some people are more concerned about the team than you are. As I was saying, Hufflepuff has a captain who has been playing seeker since her second year- she'll be likely the have taken note of some of our more memorable tactics, so we need to organize several new ploys. Gryffindor, however, is our biggest concern. There's no denying that, while mainly young, the team is well put-together, and since the first game of the season is between them and Ravenclaw, I expect all of you to be present and aware at the match. That means-" He pointed to Walden McNair, one of the beaters. "I don't want you sneaking off into the Dark Forest on another one of your ridiculous Acromantula hunts."
"It was one game I missed Malfoy, and it was Hufflepuff versus Ra-"
He was ignored as Lucius turned his attention to Giles Mulciber, the second beater. "You, I don't want you do harass any more first years when you should be paying attention. Wilkes," He addressed Carlisle Wilkes, his keeper. "I don't know what you were thinking, taking a dip in the Lake-"
"Won't happen again, Malfoy!"
"Rookwood, you, as the youngest and the seeker, ought to be present even more than the rest of us. Travers, stay out of detention this year; I think we've established that McGonagall does not appreciate dung bombs in her desk, and Yaxley," he turned his cold, grey eyes to Rodtimer at last. "Do try to keep your attention on the game and not Miss Black."
"My personally affairs are none of your business, and besides, I've been to every game ever played-"
"And there's a fair amount I'd be willing to wager that you weren't paying attention to fifty percent of those matches." He pressed on before another interruption could occur. "We will be practicing twenty five hours a week, every day. I want to see you on the field from seven to nine each evening Monday to Friday, and from ten until two on Saturday and Sunday. This schedule will increase marginally the week prior games in which we are competing. I will see all of you tomorrow morning-"
"Malfoy, you can't possibly be serious!" Rodtimer exploded at last. "Twenty five hours a week? What about N.E.W.T's?"
"I'm sure, Yaxley," Lucius replied, his eyes glittering dangerously but otherwise betraying no sign of irritation. "That you can modify your flourishing social activities to make time. If not, I certainly hope you're not under the impression that you are anything other than replaceable."
Lucius gave the assembled group a final, sweeping glance. "You may leave now. And remember, seven o'clock sharp, in your Quidditch robes. A moment late, I shall begin tryouts for more punctual players. Bring your brooms; we may or may not use them. Good evening."
"Twenty five hours Narcissa, twenty five bloody hours a week! I'm going to fail my N.E.W.T's because of the smug bastard, and he's threatening to kick me off the team!"
"Well, maybe since it's his last year here, he wants to assure the Cup is Slytherin's?" she guessed tentatively. Rodtimer, who'd been pacing restlessly, spun to face her.
"Please tell me you aren't taking his side."
"Of course not!" Narcissa defended quickly.
"He must have spent the whole summer memorizing the textbooks so he won't even have to study- memorizing and practicing Quidditch!"
"Not quite, mate," Rabastan corrected. "He had an intense internship at the Ministry, from what Roddy says."
"Well," snarled Rodtimer, looking deflated, "Big brother knows all, I suppose. How is Rodolphus, by the way?"
"Still refusing to marry like a good and proper heir. He has this nasty habit of shagging all the pure-blooded girls Mum and Dad invite over for dinner, thus making them unmarriageable. Really pisses them off, but he claims that if the women aren't virtuous enough to stay out of his bed, they'll make dreadful wives."
Rodtimer grinned. "I always forget how much I like your brother."
Rabastan scowled, personally disliking his womanizing, sociable older sibling very much. "Well, I'd be careful if I were you- soon Narcissa's going to be the last pure-blood virgin in England, and then he'll set his sights on her as his wife!"
Undeterred, Rodtimer laughed. "I think not. Narcissa, you're going to marry me, aren't you?"
"Not while I'm sixteen and studying for Arithmancy, I'm not. Now hand me that book you're sitting on, won't you?"
He did, and sighed. "Anyway, about that law-abiding prat, I suppose his father may have just paid off all 'O's for his N.E.W.T's… Yeah, then he wouldn't even have to study… That must be it."
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "You know-" But she was cut off by a sharp kick to her shin. "Ouch! Rabastan, that was my l- oh." She turned and spotted what he was regarding with wide-eyed fear. Lucius Malfoy stood several paces away, watching them with an unreadable expression- Narcissa hated that look. It wasn't human, and it always gave her the impression of ice being poured down her back- she gave a little involuntary shudder. Without comment, he turned away and began replacing his books on the shelves.
Rodtimer shrugged carelessly, but both Narcissa and Rabastan knew it would be unwise to insult the captain while in a jeopardized position on his team. After he was gone, Rabastan leaned towards his friend and whispered,
"You're an idiot, Rodtimer! You wonder why you weren't chosen as captain? Because even though Malfoy's the best chaser, he'd never make it on to any Quidditch team of yours."
"So what? We'd do fine without him."
Rabastan shrugged. "Suit yourself, but don't come whining to us when you're failing you're classes and you don't even have Quidditch."
"I won't fail. You're just jealous that I have an 'O' in Transfiguration."
"I have an 'E'!"
"But not an 'O'…" Mort taunted with a laugh, good humor restored, and ducked as Rabastan hurled a book at his head.
Later that evening, Narcissa, who occasionally suffered from mild insomnia, crept back down to the common room, intending to read in front of the fire. But once she'd arrived, there appeared to be a different problem entirely.
"Oh! I-I didn't realize that anyone else would be awake," Narcissa blurted in excuse. "Do you mind…?"
Lucius Malfoy turned his cold grey eyes to her for only a moment, before quietly reminding her, "You aren't trespassing anywhere." He had a point; she had just as much right to be there as he did. However, Narcissa didn't want to be there with him- but how to leave with grace?
"It's awfully late, you know. Most people don't usually stay up. I couldn't sleep- sometimes I can't. What- what are you doing?" Yes, good, rambling- she sarcastically congratulated herself for that brilliant decision.
He gave her an odd look, almost as though he couldn't understand the question.
"Studying." He replied at last.
"That's nice. What are you studying for?" Shut up Narcissa! Shut up!
The confused look didn't flicker. "Arithmancy."
"Oh yes, Arithmancy can be very difficult. I only have an 'A' in that, and my father expects it at least to be an 'E' by the end of this semester-"
"Is there something you want?" he interrupted suddenly. It was the first comment he'd volunteered on his own free will- and it wasn't friendly.
"I-I'm sorry about what Mort said earlier," she blurted nervously. "He was just annoyed, he doesn't mean anything by it, and he really loves Quidditch. And he'd be devastated if you made him leave the team, I'm sure he'll be playing extra hard, and he's honestly the best chaser on the team anyway! And I'm sure you wouldn't want to lose such a valuable player…" Narcissa trailed off.
Lucius twirled his quill thoughtfully between his fingers and his gaze flickered momentarily towards her. "The best, you think?"
"Absolutely!" She replied instantly. "The very…" She stopped abruptly, gaping in horror when she realized what she had just said. Along with Travers, Lucius was also a chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team.
"I-I mean," She spluttered, "You- the captain- obviously- I-"
"I never had any intention of removing Rodtimer Yaxley from my team. I am not so thin-skinned as to jeopardize our team's success due to personal preference. Are you satisfied with that?"
Narcissa wasn't entirely certain it was possible to be more embarrassed than she currently was. If Lucius was aware of this he gave no indication, in fact, his stony expression hadn't changed the entire time they'd been speaking, unless you counted the confusion he'd shown at her idiotic idea of speaking to him.
"I-erm-yes. I'm going to bed now." She turned on her heel and dashed back up to her dormitory.