"Tell me why I'm here, Rodtimer."
"Let me tell you a story."
Narcissa swallowed her impatience, and leaned over to check that Draco was indeed sleeping. "I don't... stories? You said it was urgent."
"It is. And it's a story you know, Cissy. One that I think you've forgotten, but one that I hope... hope isn't lost."
"Yes... alright, then, go on."
"Once upon a time... It was an unseasonably warm September morning... I remember it was warm, because I saw you on the platform with your family. You wore... this neat little white blouse, short sleeved and button-down. Your hair was in two long, tidy braids and you had a plain grey pleated skirt that fell just to your skinny knees. You were the prissiest thing I'd ever seen in my life, especially standing next to your wild sister, with her hair in snarls, her shirt inappropriately unbuttoned. And Andromeda was there too, Bella's saccharine twin, she kept trying to hold your hand but you kept shaking her off. I just had this feeling in my gut, like something mattered in that moment, that I was on the brink of something huge-"
"Rodtimer, please. There's no point-"
"Let me talk, Cissy."
She fell silent, and he rubbed his jaw, watching her carefully. The gesture was a familiar one, it was one Narcissa identified with important, serious, conversations. Strange, that his hand could look just exactly the same as it always had, when nothing was the same anymore.
"I remember our first kiss like it was yesterday. It was right after my first Hogsmeade trip- remember? You put on a brave face, but I could tell you were so disappointed you couldn't go... so I went to Honeydukes and I bought caramel creams for you, and cockroach clusters as a gag gift for Rab, and in my excitement I had them wrap up the wrong one... when you opened it I was sure it was over, that you'd be so hurt that I'd gone when you couldn't and then made fun of you with some stupid present... and you laughed. You laughed and laughed and hugged me and I suddenly wasn't nervous, or embarassed or hesitant. I kissed you, and we were just kids but I didn't care that I'd never kissed anyone else, I knew I never wanted to."
His bright blue eyes were wide, intent. The soft lull of his voice brought Narcissa memories of a simpler, happier time. A time when resting her forehead against the curve of his neck could rejuvenate her; when the merest brush of his hand could excite her beyond belief or calm her down from the most thunderous of tempers in a heartbeat. She remembered the kiss too, just as vividly, how startled she'd been, how ecstatic the quick peck had made her. His hand, a little boy's hand back then, had been clutching hers, soft, warm, just a little damp, and he'd given her a blazing grin afterwards that was a silent promise of adoration.
"When Andromeda ran off with that Hufflepuff, you cried in my arms all night, and then you got up in the morning and never shed another tear about it. You were so brave, so strong, I was so proud of you and when I told you I loved you... I meant it more than anything. I loved you with everything, and I never stopped."
Andromeda. Her heart still contracted at the sound of her name. The sister that used to comb tangles out of her flaxen hair, tell her stories until she fell asleep, kiss her forehead goodnight when their mother neglected to. Gone in a single, world-shattering day, but not before she had watched her father strike Andromeda across the face, call her the most horrible things...
"When my brother died... you were my strength. I was only sixteen and you were fifteen but you stayed by my side, you bore my fury at the injustice of it all and my tears and I knew, despite everything... that you were the one I wanted to spend my life with. I'd teasingly asked you to marry me a dozen times... but suddenly I knew I wanted it to be real. Everything about you gave me joy. Your smile, holding your hand... being the one that got to kiss you good night... It was everything to me, Narcissa. You were everything."
Guilt lanced her at the memory of sweet Tristan, only eleven when he was lost to Vanishing sickness. He'd been the very opposite of Rodtimer in looks- the boy had inherited his mother's sandy hair and father's dark eyes- but he shared the same ineffable shine of his brother. He had been exuberant and clever, and despite the difference in age, the two had been very close. Narcissa did not want to relive the black months that had followed the boy's death; she couldn't bear to recalled the sickening pain, the sorrow and hours that Mort had spent laying in bed with her, tears streaming silently and endlessly, or his rages in which he hurled chairs and smashed things until his hands bled.
"And then one day... you were gone. You walked to Malfoy with your head held high, and no matter how many times I reminded myself that you were strong, that you loved me but you had no choice... the pain was still more than I could bear. I barely scraped enought N.E.W.T's to leave school, and then... there was nothing. I moved in with my mum and had no desire to leave, no desire for anything... I wanted to die. I was empty and drunk. I picked fights, I just wanted to die, all the time.
"And then Malfoy came and found me one night. To bring me to you. And I knew that you loved me, after all that time apart, but you made me promise to love someone else. And when have I ever been able to refuse you, Cissy? I realized then that you couldn't be happy when I wasn't. I was being... selfish. You had been hurt as badly as I, but you were wearing a brave face. You didn't hide in your room, give up on life... You're stronger than I am."
"I didn't have any other choice!" Narcissa broke in at last. "Look, Rodtimer, you have to stop, this is over."
For a long moment, he didn't reply. He stared at her, carefully, his blue eyes earnest but intent.
"Do you love me anymore, Cissy?"
"No." Her reply was too quick. Even she knew it.
"You promised me forever."
"You made me the same promise, but sometimes circumstances change. You know that. We've both grown."
"I'm here to collect on forever, Narcissa. I tried. I really did. I tried to convince myself that she was the one for me, that you were just my childhood infatuation. I told myself a lack of passion was just maturity. I kept telling myself that she was my future, but then suddenly I couldn't pretend anymore. She's a kind, sweet girl, but she isn't you, Narcissa... And she doesn't love me the way you did."
They fell silent once more.
"Do you love Malfoy, then? I should have known. He always had everything, didn't he? Why shouldn't you love him as every other girl did-"
"It isn't like that! You don't understand, Mort, he's not as you always thought. He's..."
"He's what? Kind? Don't try to fool yourself Narcissa, the things I've seen that man do would make you sick."
"He's..." she wanted to say 'good to me, at least,' but, lame an answer as it was, she wasn't sure if she believed even that.
"Kiss me, Narcissa."
Her eyes flew to his face. "I can't," she blurted.
"No?" he rose slowly from his seat and took her hands gently. "If you really don't love me, then it will mean nothing to you, and it will mean the whole world to me. For everything that we had, all that we shared, everything we were... If you really love him and not me, then he should understand this as an act of pity on your part. I'm only asking for one last kiss. I'm not asking for anything else... though I will never stop regretting that we didn't share what we should have... Narcissa, we both know you never should have married him, we'd be so happy... that should be my child, our child, conceived with love and gentleness-"
"Rodtimer, stop," she whispered, rising as well. "What you're feeling now... I don't feel it any more. I'm sorry. I'm not the same girl you used to know."
"I can see that," he murmured, gently tugging her closer. "The girl I knew was innocent. She smiled. She didn't have pain and grief emanating from her. Come away with me," he whispered hoarsely. "We can disappear. I can love you as completely, as tenderly as I always have, I can take the hurt away. What should we care for the rest of the world? What other world is there when we have each other?"
He leaned in close, his forehead resting against hers.
"Mort," she sighed. Anguished? Wistful? Exhausted? He wasn't sure.
"I love you," he whispered, and when his lips met hers, she didn't resist.