Here you go, chapter 13 - title is from the song by Ben E. King.
When Narcissa came home from Grimmauld Place, she sat at her desk with a piece of parchment, and a quill that quivered between her tense fingers.
She scribbled Lucius' name at first, and then crossed it out. Panic swelled within her chest as she considered: she could not possibly tell him that her sister was involved with a group of extremists, that her family was in a commotion. Slytherin knew what he would think… What then? She needed someone to know, she needed to throw all of the anguish in her heart onto this parchment, and feel a supportive presence in return. Someone… someone who wouldn't judge.
Taking another roll, she wrote hesitantly: Dear Cassie.
She had no clue where to start. Forcing out sentence after sentence, she remained scrawling and crossing out well into the evening, neglecting to come down for dinner. She knew her mother would not call for her, remembered strongly her shaky voice as she had told her to "go upstairs and rest, dearest"; she knew her father would be locked in the study, alone. Narcissa scribbled a loose succession of half-implied truths and confessions of her distraught state, trying to hold the guilt and shame at bay. She was doing a wrong, but her friend was a nobody in society, and yet pure: as close to safe as Cissy might ever get. She mentioned Lucius, once, then again, twice more throughout the missive. She sealed it shut hastily, before she could change her mind, and called a house-elf to have it sent. Then she collapsed on the bed.
The next day seemed to pass in a blur. Narcissa tried, several times, to write a response to Lucius' previous letter; but every word sounded fake to her, and she could most definitely not tell him anything this way, she was sure of it now – the fear of his reaction, added to the necessity of a delay, would be way too much for her to handle. Perhaps face to face, she could see how things went; and thankfully, there was a ball scheduled on the morrow. She dismissed her current anxieties the best she could, and focused instead on fussing over her dress.
The gown had been picked out a while ago, and changing it was out of the question. It was sleeveless and slightly shorter than her usual, falling mid-shin, or perhaps a tad higher – but the troubling part was its colour, a rich, bloody, vivid red. As she walked up the drive that led to the Selwyns' large house with her parents, thinking to herself that Apparition and Floo were equally unpleasant means of travel after all, Cissy felt outrageously conspicuous; it did not improve in the hallway's bright lights, to say the least. She forced a graceful smile, determined to look good and honour her family, no matter what.
Almost as soon as she walked into the ballroom, Narcissa came across Lucius. He blinked several times at the sight of her dress, which did not settle her worries in the slightest.
"Narcissa, here you are!" he called.
She walked up to him slowly, and he kissed her hand, then her lips, lightly and chastely. "I was looking for you," he said. "This gown… Red suits you."
Her face immediately flushed crimson; she had a feeling that had not been what he meant, though she valiantly strived to convince herself that a bit more colour might do her no harm. She didn't blush quite so easily most of the time – or with most people. It was definitely Lucius' fault.
"Thank you," she murmured. "You look quite handsome too." He flashed a smile.
"I was intrigued to see that you hadn't replied to my letter yet," he went on as she perched on the arm he was offering her. "Of course, I figured you were probably busy. I'm afraid I am growing fearfully demanding – though your indulgence does bear part of the blame, that goes without saying."
"Oh, but one might very well enjoy graciousness without taking it for granted in the slightest," Narcissa retorted lightly. "Perhaps you should see fit to correct yourself, Mr Malfoy."
"I shall endeavour in this direction, then. I would emphasize those words with a bow, if there weren't a young lady clinging very tightly to my arm at present."
She had a small laugh. "Why do you not tell her to correct herself, in that case, and let you go?"
"Merlin help me, I'm not quite sure I want her to."
Giggling, Narcissa felt considerably lighter as they reached the buffet and he gallantly handed her a drink, before helping himself to a glass of wine.
"How is your family?" he asked, taking a sip.
Cissy, who had been doing the same thing, swallowed too fast and coughed. "Why do you ask?" she retorted quickly.
He appeared taken aback. "It was merely a polite concern."
Narcissa bit her lip, panicking a little at her own overreaction. "My father… has been a bit sick. He feels better now, though," she blurted out, coldness and disbelief spreading through her as she heard those deceiving words as though they came from a stranger. She couldn't see a way out now, couldn't confess that she had spontaneously invented a story to ease his suspicions… The only option she had was to carry on with her lie.
Lucius nodded. "I am sorry." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. She felt her face burn.
"Shall we dance?" she suggested, hoping to avoid further conversation.
Lucius appeared surprised again, but did not comment on her sudden eagerness. "Certainly," he merely said, and set down his half-full glass, which promptly vanished. Narcissa did the same.
She could feel eyes on the pair of them as they twirled across the room; visibly, word had spread that Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black were now a couple. It did not help her relax, although she admittedly felt very safe in Lucius' arms. Many young girls were peering at her haughtily or with openly speculative looks on their faces. Alcyone Nott, whom she noticed looked rather pale, stood with her arms crossed, staring at her – no, staring at the couples, and her boyfriend Cadmus, leading Diane Flint in a waltz. Interesting.
"Watching them watching you?" Lucius whispered in her ear, his warm breath causing her to shudder slightly. She could not turn her head without touching him, but she pictured his smirk as his lips moved so close to her skin. Very slightly, she nodded.
"We match," he went on. "You look striking." She smiled, held back a nervous giggle. "I expect you already knew that," he went on.
"Of course," she lied.
"Good, as long as I may be the only one to remind you." He kissed her temple, just before they parted with the end of the song. Without thinking, Cissy held on to his arm.
They danced a few more times, before Lucius led her back to the side of the room. "Should we not socialize?" he suggested. "Or I will be considered awfully selfish for keeping you all to myself."
"One could say the same of me."
"No, one might not. The lady is the treasure and the man the thief."
She laughed briefly. "You would not steal me. You are much too well-mannered."
His grin widened. "I would not assume…"
On Lucius' arm, it seemed a lot easier to smile and be charming to everyone. His light-hearted teasing had distracted her considerably. They chatted pleasantly with countless young people and bunches of ladies, elderly or in their prime. Cissy was getting used to Lucius' smooth, gallant manners, as she witnessed them constantly. She was starting to acknowledge how little they actually meant. Real, genuine interest brought a gleam to his cool eyes, made him speak less and imply more, too – and it showed most clearly when he was alone with her. The realization made it harder to breathe regularly. It was a simple, overwhelming truth.
"Good evening, Mr Black," she heard Lucius say, and gave a start, her head turning so abruptly that she felt a sharp ache in her neck. She hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings, superficially immersed in small talk while her mind dwelled on its considerations, and thus hadn't noticed that they were coming up to her father. Cygnus turned, his gaze coolly sweeping over the young couple; he shook the hand Lucius was offering him.
"Good evening, Mr Malfoy," he replied evenly.
"I am glad we may be granted your company tonight, sir," Lucius went on. "I heard your health hasn't been at its best. I'm quite sorry of that."
For two seconds Cygnus appeared puzzled, and then his gaze briefly flickered to Narcissa. "Oh, yes," he said. "Yes, indeed. Why, thank you, young man. The concern is much appreciated."
Mercifully, they were parted by the crowd, bringing their encounter to an end. Cissy kept her eyes straight ahead, feigning oblivion as Lucius glanced at her pensively. He had caught Cygnus' look of hesitation, she was sure; he was too perceptive to let such a thing escape him.
They resumed their path through the ballroom, greeting individuals and supplying well-mannered small talk as they went. Narcissa was paying more attention now, and she caught a glimpse of her sister on the dance floor; she couldn't tell whether she was supposed to feel relieved that Bellatrix was there, healthy, well and keeping up social pretences, or whether she ought to fear an outburst of some sort. Rodolphus would make sure everything went all right, though; for all the flippancy with which he seemed to consider society, rules and common sense, she had a feeling that he was keenly aware of the need for discretion, secrecy… all notions Bella was quick to forget whenever her temper or emotions got too heated.
"Narcissa," Lucius said gently. She jumped again, realizing that he had been talking to her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she stammered, terribly embarrassed.
"Merely that we ought to go and talk to my mother," he repeated. "Maybe you'll have some well-wishes to provide for her own health, too… and… perhaps we might step out on the balcony afterwards. Would you like that?"
"Of course," she immediately replied, with a little smile. "Let us go."
However, she felt a nagging apprehension as they neared the Malfoys. She still recalled the odd feeling she had had around Circe lately; and as imposing Abraxas Malfoy was standing right next to his spouse, the need to make a good impression would be doubled. She waited for Lucius to call, "Mother, Father," before she trilled: "Good evening, Mr and Mrs Malfoy."
They turned to face her. Abraxas bowed his head to her slightly, his expression unreadable, and Circe smiled a sharp-edged smile. "Good evening, Narcissa," she spoke. "It is delightful to see you again – in our son's company."
Cissy had the puzzling feeling that she was sincere; despite her earlier attitude, she did not appear displeased as her gaze flickered over the two of them – quite the contrary. But after all, who might have objected to their son successfully courting the last unmarried daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? Perhaps everything had been but paranoia on Narcissa's part. Or perhaps Circe's game was complex, and she powerless to comprehend it.
They remained idly conversing with Madam Malfoy for a little while after her husband had excused himself, perfectly pleasantly; and then Lucius, as he had suggested earlier, took Cissy out on the balcony. The air out there was warm and smelled of flowers – she filled her lungs quietly, and squeezed her suitor's arm tighter.
Suitor, she thought dimly. That was the word she had used with her sisters, referring to the Lestrange boys. It did have too formal, too unfeeling a sound, and yet boyfriend was not sufficiently… official, binding – it didn't convey this setting of ballrooms and letters and parents and being a young couple on show, almost on trial. No, she couldn't find a word that'd be exactly right. Never mind, then.
As they leaned against the balustrade, Narcissa thought she could see movement below. Intrigued, she threw a glance there, out of the corner of her eye. Someone was sitting on the grass in the shadows. Someone with light brown hair in the moonlight, and a green dress…
Just as Lucius' arm found her waist again, she recognized Alcyone, and recalled Selwyn with the Flint girl on the dance floor, his triumphant smile. She had just the time to assess the whole situation, in the blink of an eye, and feel a mix of nasty satisfaction from Alcyone's comedown, and understanding of the grief it would represent for any girl. Then she turned around, and found Lucius' face inches from her own. She scarcely had the time to wonder whether the same fate awaited her someday, when, and how broken she would feel. Next, his lips were on hers, and took away every other thought. She surrendered, clinging to his neck.
The talk had been of Narcissa's OWLs ever since her parents and herself had arrived early at Grimmauld Place, in anticipation of the social gathering that was to take place there. Sirius, who had been ordered to come downstairs – although he would spend the evening with his brother in one of their rooms, under the watch of the family's old house-elf – was scowling so fiercely she thought he might give his face some long-term damage, but everybody else wore fitting smiles for the occasion – proud, polite, or patronizing, depending on the individual. After giving her their congratulations, the men had drifted away in a loose grouping to discuss some subject or other, and now the women were smothering her with questions and comments while they arranged the last details.
"Nine, you said, Narcissa?" Irma drawled as she adjusted the lights for the third or fourth time. "What subject went wrong?"
"Herbology, Grandmother," she immediately replied – for the fifth or sixth time.
"A most unladylike subject, I've always thought," Druella added in a very audible whisper.
"Oh, but you did manage an E there, Druella, did you not?" Melania replied. "Or so I remembered from our previous discussions about your girls' results, but perhaps I was wrong."
"Oh, yes," Druella had to admit, turning slightly red under her blusher. "Well, I was in luck. I had to deal with very acceptable plants only – nothing that spurted unpleasant fluids or attempted to eat my hand, mainly common, useful herbs…"
"Mmm," Melania murmured. "Or perhaps you are simply more resilient than you wish us to think… I always imagined you could have been a healer, had you –" she paused delicately – "…worked. Pretty, level-headed, and not very emotional – isn't that what they require?"
Druella shuddered lightly. "Oh, I would never… even if I had ever had a job. Can you imagine… Mudbloods everyday…"
"Indeed," Melania said darkly. There was a beat of silence while the ladies all dismissed the idea.
"Regardless, I think Narcissa might have done without so many A's, although her work was satisfactory on the whole, of course," Irma went on. "What were your A's again, Narcissa?"
"Arithmancy, isn't that right?" Walburga cut in. "Quite a shame, quite a shame. I loved Arithmancy as a young girl."
"A very difficult subject. Passing it at all is quite honourable," Druella commented.
"Arithmancy, and what else?" Irma insisted.
Cissy glanced from the tablecloth she was pointlessly arranging. "Divination and Transfiguration, Grandmother."
"Divination." Walburga scoffed. "I won't blame you for this one."
"However, Transfiguration is important. This Minerva McGonagall will certainly not have you in her class with merely an A," Melania remarked.
"Quite right," Walburga agreed.
Cissy looked down. If she was being honest, abandoning Minerva McGonagall's classes was no small joy, but it would not do to display happiness at her own inadequacy.
"I would say she has been better than Bellatrix, overall," Irma concluded. "Bellatrix had more O's, and in important subjects too, but her failures were so glaring. Three A's, and two D's in Herbology and Divination! For shame!" She shuddered.
A hum of agreement was echoed, and the grouping quietly busied their minds with the worrisome subject of Bellatrix, for a little while. Narcissa briefly relished the lack of attention, before she became concerned with her sister's lateness. Of course it had only been to be expected, but that was no comfort.
Every important task had been performed and they were now idly wandering, checking details, mainly because it was only proper that the whole family should gather to prepare the event, as always. Sirius came back from his dinner in a fouler mood, if possible, than previously and was sent to his room in a commotion after one pointed remark about his grandmother's ugly dress. Narcissa, who secretly shared his fashion assessment, briefly considered fleeing as well to write Cassie – the spirits of this letter would certainly be higher than those of the previous one, which had prompted a long and rather alarmed response –, but as she was acknowledging the risk of carrying out such a daring plan, the slamming of the door effectively put her boredom to an end.
She heard voices from the hall, and the family slowly filed out of the dining room. Cissy let her grandmother and her cousin Melania go first, forcing back a hint of irritation at their majestically slow pace. She slipped out next, followed by Regulus, who had successfully escaped exile to his bedroom thus far. The ten-year-old gave a sudden cry of joy, and ran straight forwards into the arms of his uncle Alphard.
Chuckling, Alphard hugged his nephew, swiftly speaking up as Walburga opened her mouth with an outraged look: "Give him a rest, sister, the boy is happy to see me. He can afford a temporary lapse in behaviour every six months when his favourite uncle comes home, can't you lad?"
"I'm very sorry, Mother." Regulus was blushing, looking genuinely ashamed, but even then he could not keep the smile from his face. Alphard patted his head roughly.
"Good to see you too, little Regulus. All my nephews and nieces." As he made a wide circular gesture as if to embrace them all, Cissy noticed that Bella had followed him into the house, Rodolphus by her side. Despite the smile she forced when their uncle brushed her shoulder, she was looking tense, biting her lip hard.
"And Narcissa, too!" He waved her forward, and she stepped lightly in his direction. Alphard hugged her around the waist, more carefully than she would have expected; she felt his warmth, smelled the scent of his pipe. "Quite the young woman now, look at you – beautiful. How have you been, my dear?" he asked, releasing her but keeping a hold on her hand.
"Quite well, Uncle, thank you," she replied, smiling. Alphard's blatant displays of affection, though something to get used to, always felt quite pleasant. Walburga walked up to them, smiling tight, and cut in before Alphard could respond: "Don't just stand there, brother. You're coming right in time to sit down and have nothing to do!"
Alphard chuckled once and followed, releasing his nephew and niece. Narcissa briefly made eye contact with Bellatrix, who grimaced back at her. She glanced around – everybody was getting back to the dining room; paying her no mind – and reached out a hand to her elder sister. Bella looked stunned for a moment, but then she gripped Narcissa's fingers and allowed her sibling to pull her after the others into the room.
"To bed with you, Regulus," Walburga was saying as they entered.
"Walburga, it is quite early," Alphard commented, astonished, while Regulus wailed: "Oh, please, Mother!"
"Upstairs is what I meant," she amended, irritated. "The first guests will be there soon now. You may say goodnight to your uncle and relatives."
"And don't I get to see my other nephew?" Alphard asked, looking around. "Where is Sirius? I assumed he would be off doing mischief…"
"And quite a clever guess that is," Walburga muttered under her breath before adding more clearly: "Sirius has been sent to his room due to his outrageously disrespectful behaviour. I will tolerate no indulgence."
Alphard raised his eyebrows, but did not comment. Although Cissy thought Sirius' temper to be truly dreadful, she still found it quite harsh that the boy should be denied seeing the uncle he loved so, but she forgot about the subject altogether as the tension following Regulus' quiet, dismal departure reminded her that the family had more pressing concerns to worry about. She stole a glance at Bellatrix; she was glaring straight ahead, whereas Rodolphus, who had followed them wordlessly, looked quite impassive.
"All right, could someone tell me what's going on?" Alphard called loudly. Cissy jumped; on the other side of the room, she saw Druella bite her lips hard.
Everybody was looking Arcturus' way, but it was Pollux who spoke up in a clear, cold voice: "The family had a disagreement," he stated. "With Bellatrix. Her unseemly behaviour and stubborn refusal of any correction could cause a serious threat to us all."
Alphard whistled low. "Why am I not surprised… A threat, though?" From the armchair he was lounging in, he twisted his head to look at Bellatrix. "Whatever did you do this time, girl? It can't be so important…"
"Bellatrix became involved in this extremist group the Ministry has been quite concerned about," Arcturus said coldly. "Her mindless actions could heavily damage our family's standing and influence, not to mention the personal risk I am sure she is taking all too lightly."
Alphard stared. "What are you talking about? Well, I suppose I've been out of touch… Hang on, there was this one group…" He gaped. "No… Not the one leading attacks against Mudbloods? Bellatrix!" He made a move as if to stand up, looking genuinely appalled.
"At last a reasonable reaction from you," Walburga muttered. Alphard didn't respond, if he'd heard her at all.
"I didn't come to just stand there while you're accusing me," Bellatrix said loudly, her gaze defiant. "I've heard it all before, from every single one of you. I've made my choice. You can't force me away from the cause."
"But why?" Alphard insisted desperately. "Why would you do this?"
"Is it so hard to believe that it's the right thing?" she exclaimed passionately. "Our values, our purity, everything the lot of you ever taught us is being disregarded and endangered! Why can't anyone just do something?"
"Not this way, you're making it worse…" Alphard shook his head, apparently lost for words.
"You are jeopardizing our influence, Bellatrix. This has to stop," Arcturus stated, rising from his seat.
Bella faced him without backing down, though Cissy caught her small, nervous shudder – due to anger, disappointment or worry, she could not tell. "What are you going to do?" the young woman hissed. "Denounce me? Curse me into submission? Disown me for standing up for every value I was ever taught as a Black?"
There was a deadly silence. Cissy could taste helplessness in the air. She saw a muscle twitch on Arcturus' jaw, saw him breathe deeply, evenly. Alphard cut in, desperate: "You don't have to do that, Bellatrix. Listen. If this – if this is about Andromeda…"
"Don't say her name!" Bellatrix suddenly screeched, and Narcissa let a startled cry escape her. The family's attention switched to her, for a second. Cygnus crossed the room towards her as she leaned against the wall shaking, and seized her shoulders firmly to support her; Bella hovered, unsure and tense, a hand half-extended. Then she whirled towards Alphard again, her hair flying. "This has nothing to do with her!" she spat.
"You're proving my point," Alphard replied, very softly.
With a last, piercing scream of rage, Bellatrix lunged for the door. Rodolphus made to catch her wrist, but she automatically, sharply slapped him across the face, drawing outraged shouts from Irma and Walburga. Druella seemed to be beyond reacting. Narcissa leaned into her father, shaking hard, and saw Rodolphus rub his jaw and glance briefly at the lot of them before he strode out after his wife. Then she squeezed her eyes shut.
"It's over," Cygnus muttered, his voice hoarse. He was holding her awkwardly, as though he would have preferred remaining close, yet at arm's length. Walburga stormed past them, out into the hall. Cissy blocked out the low murmurs in the room until her aunt returned and stated loudly: "Rodolphus said they would be back. The guests will not be long."
There were rustles of fabric as the ladies frantically rearranged themselves, in an attempt to fully regain their previous composure. The men exchanged grave looks. Cygnus took a step back, without letting go of Narcissa. Alphard had approached the two of them soundlessly; he lightly touched his brother's shoulder, then his niece's. Cissy tried deep intakes of breath, but it seemed impossible to stop her tremors. "Father," she mumbled.
"Yes," he said tensely.
"I can't do it."
He nodded, pursing his lips. "I have to be there when the guests arrive. Alphard?" he asked.
Her uncle nodded. She felt his firm grip on her arm. "Off we go, dear girl. Upstairs should do, that's it, come with me."
"She cannot go away, too!" Walburga exclaimed, but Cygnus' response was not lost on Narcissa and Alphard before the door shut behind them.
"Keep your opinion to yourself for once, sister."
Alphard had a low, empty-sounding chuckle. She tuned out his muttered words of encouragement until they were up the stairs and there was a crash, an outraged croak, and a young boy's scream:
"Uncle!"
"Shut it, Sirius, there's a good lad," Alphard called in return. She was led into a study, pushed in an armchair, and the boys slipped in after them, Sirius curious and eager, Regulus flushed and shy. She could also hear a house-elf's mutterings on the other side of the door before Sirius slammed it, but the presence of an adult seemed enough for the creature and it soon shuffled away.
"What's wrong with her, Uncle?" Sirius demanded, inching closer. "She looks pretty white. Did she faint? How did you get away? When did you even arrive? I didn't know!" His voice had risen in pitch at the outrageous fact. Alphard was looking preoccupied.
"I thought I said shut it, Sirius. I'll give that to your mother, you're loud, and there's a time and a place. It's really good to see you, too, but your cousin's not at her best at the moment. Get out of her face, and keep it low."
Sirius obeyed, sullen. "She's annoying," he said. "She just wants everyone to pay attention to her. And then she gets all fussy when they do."
"Sirius, your mouth. Regulus, knock your brother out for me."
Regulus did no such thing, sitting at Cissy's feet while Sirius stomped out. "Does she need a glass of water?" he asked. "Or brandy? Mother takes brandy when she's angry."
"I don't think so, my boy. Water sounds fine, though. Where did your devil of a brother go? Stay with her, will you? I'll get water and check where that elf got to, if Sirius is going to sulk in a corner."
"I'm fine," Narcissa managed as her uncle rushed from the room. Her ten-year-old cousin was staring at her as though feeling unwell enough to escape social duties were the most fascinating thing in the whole world. "What happened to you?" he asked in hushed, conspiratorial tones. "Did you have too much to drink?"
"Oh dear, no," she answered, taken off guard.
He nodded solemnly. "When Mother gets very angry and has too much brandy, she always looks white and cranky in the morning, and we can't be loud," he confided. "Then again, we should never be loud at all. And it's not the morning right now…"
"Indeed," she muttered.
Alphard was shortly back, brandishing a glass of water like a trophy. "Sirius is with the elf and will hate me for the next half hour, until he gets bored and forgets. Mission accomplished. Drink up, Narcissa."
She obeyed. "When do we have to get back downstairs?" she inquired.
"In a while. Don't worry. The guests are arriving, the family has got everything under control. Don't they always?"
"Lucius," she said. "I should go and see Lucius."
"The Malfoy boy?" Her uncle raised his eyebrows. "Merlin, your father must like that, friendly as he is with good old Abraxas… Well, plenty of time to see him once you really feel better."
"It's not like I got sick," she reasoned, talking in a low voice. "I was just…" She struggled for the right word.
"In shock."
"Yes." She sighed. "I feel better now, honest."
"Well, I'll take you back downstairs in a moment," he replied. "Just stay put for now."
Narcissa nodded, looking past him, off into space. She still felt quite shaky, but not so out of control any longer, and she wanted to be with Lucius, forget her family for a little while. She needed him by her side, she realized. It seemed a bit less important, now, to prevent his seeing her in an overly distressed state, to keep her family's turmoils from his awareness. She didn't have to explain, to confide – but she could count on him to be there, probably.
Regulus shuffled closer. "You're not staying?"
She glanced at him. "No, I have to go downstairs."
"With the grown-ups, for the social occasion." He carefully articulated the words, then nodded solemnly. "I understand."
On impulse, Cissy kissed her cousin's forehead. He blinked in surprise, then smiled faintly. "One day, I'll be with the grown-ups. I'll be someone really important. Just you see," he told her.
"I'm sure you will," she replied before calling, "Uncle Alphard? I'm ready, can we go now?"
Alphard seemed to have many things to say and few words to express them as he gazed into her face, but in the end he just nodded. Together, they crept down the stairs on tiptoe, Cissy on her uncle's arm. Just as they reached the ground floor, the Malfoys entered the hall.
Narcissa slipped between guests and relatives, nobody seeming to notice that she was coming from upstairs and not from the dining room. When she reached Lucius, he grinned at her, and she felt a knot temporarily loosen at the pit of her stomach.
"How are you doing?" he asked, reaching for her hand.
She smiled back. "Perfect," she murmured.
Naturally assuming that she'd been answering his question, Lucius leaned forward to kiss her briefly. Narcissa shut her eyes tightly, leaning into his familiar touch; when they parted, she turned her head and saw Cygnus moving in their direction. Father and daughter held eye contact for a second, then she glanced away, squeezing Lucius' hand mechanically. She had been tormented by the Black family's issues quite enough for one evening; now her only concern ought to be socializing. The show must go on, no matter what.
As Lucius smoothly led her through the crowd, she suddenly felt overwhelmingly, inexpressibly thankful that at least, in this wide, relentless game she was to play, she had been granted a partner such as he.