I took a step, and all that's behind me,
It remained in a haze of dark gray.
There, beyond the line, are now enemies,
You made your choice today.
Let him not understand and not forgive
The friend who is beyond this line.
He is the enemy, he has never understood,
That you came here for advice.
There was a tense silence in the room.
But five minutes ago, sounds still lived here: the fireplace crackled, the rain beat through the closed doors of the huge library window, the father's voice sounded - quiet, calm, indifferent, as always. What did he say? It seems to be something important. Oh yes! After Narcissa entered, he kissed her forehead in a fatherly manner (a stupid gesture!) And said:
"Lucius, I leave you alone. I think you have something to discuss. Narcissa, your father and I will be in the living room. If the groom is too zealous, you can safely call us ... if you want ..."
And in the voice there is a grin. How can you talk so simply and soullessly about the end of everything? The fair-haired young man followed his smiling father with a tired look and turned to his ... His tongue did not turn to call her a bride. And there were still a few months before Christmas. It's strange. Where did the brilliant Narcissa go? No, she was beautiful, but something was wrong. Lucius couldn't figure out what, and it made him nervous.
"Sit down," he said to the girl.
She flinched at the sound of his harsh voice, but sat down on the edge of the chair, forcing herself to smile. Lucius had never seen such uncertainty on her face. Narcissa Black is used to the delight of those around her. Lucius wasn't thrilled, and she didn't seem to understand what was going on either.
Her whole life was subordinated to this day - the day when she learns the name of her betrothed and vows to her father to obey her future husband in everything and never contradict him. Upon learning that Lucius Malfoy became her chosen one, Narcissa smiled the way only a truly happy sixteen-year-old girl can smile: bright, light, and asked permission to leave to send an owl to her friend Belinda. You have to brag about such wonderful news! The father, having kissed his daughter on the forehead, gave permission: let the girl have fun. Narcissa shot out of the library, crossed the heavy carpet-covered hallway, and dashed out of the castle through the main exit, knocking down Kramer, a house elf who was trying to water a huge bush rose in a wooden tub, on the way. The elf stood up meekly and rushed for a rag to wipe up the spilled water. Like everyone else in the house, he knew the reason for such a stormy joy of the young mistress. Let himself, he is no stranger.
Narcissa, not noticing the disorder she had caused, hurriedly ran down the stone steps of the main staircase. She was in a hurry ... to share her joy with Belinda? Not! The girl turned sharply towards the path leading to the garden. If the father saw this, he might suspect that something was wrong - the owlet was in the opposite direction. And young Narcissa ran deep into the garden, towards a barely noticeable path, to share ... No, not joy - news, and not with Belinda, but with a completely different person.
At the end of the garden was an old abandoned gardener's house. No one had used it for a long
time, and the girl had no idea why it was still not being demolished. But I was afraid to ask. Suddenly they simply forgot about him, and with her question she can deprive herself of her last refuge in this huge house. A small wooden building stood at the end of an abandoned, unkempt site. Narcissa ran straight to him. Her light steps were drowning in the deep thick grass. There was not even a road here, and then Narcissa stumbled. Probably about a stone. With a low cry, the girl fell into the grass, hitting her knee painfully. She quickly got up, looking around to see if anyone had heard. On the knee, at the point of impact on the stone, there was a deep cut, from which blood was oozing quite strongly. The heel of her right sandal cracked when Narcissa tried to lean on her sore leg.
"That wasn't enough," the girl muttered with a sob.
Narcissa Black turned sixteen a week ago. And the most important rule, which she comprehended from her own experience and therefore remembered for the rest of her life, was: "Trouble does not come alone!"
Shaking off her dress and finally breaking off the now useless heel, the girl took off her shoes and cautiously continued on her way. If someone at this moment looked at this fragile, barefoot girl with a bloody knee, wandering towards the rickety house, he would hardly be able to recognize the cheerful, brilliant heartthrob of the Slytherin house.
Opening the creaky door, Narcissa made her way to a pile of rubbish dumped at the far end of the room in the old house. Lifting the rusted helmet, she scooped up the straw on the earthen floor with her hands, her slender fingers groping for a ring in the lid of a small hatchway. Whispering the spell of the password to open the cache, the girl pulled the lid. At the bottom of a small depression lay a bundle of an incomprehensible shape. Taking it out, the girl went to the window, settled down on the old dusty windowsill and unfolded the bundle. In the pile of rags was an ordinary-looking mirror. Many years later, fifteen-year-old Hope of the entire magical world will receive this very mirror from the hands of her godfather, but she will never be able to use it.
Narcissa wiped the dusty surface with a bundle of straw, brought the mirror closer to her face, and said clearly, "Sirius Black." Then, leaning against the window frame, she began to wait for a handsome dark-haired boy on the other end of this monstrous world to notice a call signal on exactly the same mirror. Then he will look at her, and his amazingly blue eyes will say without words that this is just a bad dream, that everything will be fine.
And she will even believe this ridiculous idea. Ridiculous, but so desirable.
And then there will be rain and a trip to the castle, the entrance gate of which is decorated with an ancient coat of arms: an ornate letter "M", which is wrapped around the arms-paws of some animal-people. And the tense silence that hung in the library, as soon as she entered it.
However, when her future husband offered (ordered!) To sit down, she even managed to squeeze out some semblance of a smile.
Lucius himself sat down slightly on the huge desk. He didn't know what to talk about with this girl. Narcissa was also in no hurry to start a heart-warming conversation. In general, it seems that at this moment she was overly interested in her own sandals. Otherwise, why would she not take her eyes off them for a good ten minutes? Although, maybe she was admiring the silvery varnish on the toes of her miniature feet. Lucius was overcome with irritation. Hell! And this is his future wife!
Now, when she sat on the very edge of the wide chair, convulsively clutching the seat with her hands, from the side she looked like a ruffled sparrow, absurdly sucking its head into its shoulders. Lucius didn't like her look at all. However, Lucius warmed his soul that she was experiencing ... fear. Though he tries not to show it. After all, no one has ever feared him. House elves don't count, and Crabbe and Goyle were more afraid of his father's name. And Narcissa was afraid. But a wife shouldn't ... Priscilla wasn't afraid of Edwin, that's why she lived far, far away. And although it was not her choice, this state of affairs suited everyone. However ... maybe that makes sense. He knew what kind of oath the women of purebred families take when they marry. Well, along with obedience and loyalty, he also acquires fear. And fear brings admiration and respect. These were the feelings that Lucius himself felt in relation to his father. How could he, a seventeen-year-old teenager brought up with a very strange idea of the institution of the family, know that this very formula "fear = respect + admiration", deduced by him, would play a cruel joke with him when he has his own family?
Lucius's gaze lifted from Narcissa's curled toes to her knees. On the right was a magical patch, skillfully matched to skin color, but still visible to observant eyes.
"What's with your knee?" for some reason he asked.
To be honest, he didn't give a damn about it, but somehow he had to break this damned silence.
"I fell in the garden," Narcissa answered without looking up. Her quiet voice sounded surprisingly even.
"Did you visit the Weasleys to help expel the gnomes?"
"Something like that."
"Clear."
The room became quiet again - the young people each plunged into their own thoughts.
Lucius persistently drove away from himself the image of a dark-haired girl with eyes of an amazing color, which his imagination stubbornly slipped over and over again. If she sat in this chair ... It would not be like that at all. He would not have leaned against that damn table, but would have been kneeling at her feet for a long time, trying to ease the pain in his wounded leg. After all, it is imperative that you get sick so that he can be the first to help. And she would have laughed loudly and thanked him.
Talking about the garden and relatives, even the likes of the Weasleys, reminded Narcissa of a completely different person.
"What's wrong with your knee? - anxiety in blue eyes." You're bleeding. "
These were the first words of Sirius Black.
"Nothing, everything is fine, and not much blood."
"Yeah, half a window sill is just a little bit," Sirius said impatiently. "Where are you now?"
"I wanted to talk ..." she began.
"So! Get out of the area, there, in the hollow of that oak tree, you remember, I left the portkey. It will take you to the lake. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Sirius, no need, I just wanted to talk, and ..."
"Narcissa! When you turn blue from blood loss or catch some infection, everyone will still have what you wanted to talk about. By the way, a complex option is also possible. I mean blood loss and ..." he wanted to sound careless, but there was anxiety in his eyes.
"If I knew that I would definitely die from this, I would not allow anyone to help."
She said and regretted it.
"Stop! I got up quickly. Yes, yes, right now, together with a mirror so that I could see, and spanked to the oak tree. I'm flying out too."
"I'm barefoot," she said for some reason.
"I can't provide the right shoes, but," he shrugged, "I can pick them up.
She smiled as she rose from the windowsill.
"Do you really know how to give first aid?"
"If I didn't know how, Potter would have died long ago."
She smiled again.
"Bye Sirius, I'm going to the oak tree."
She ran away from home for the first time that day, and it was the happiest day of her life. So what if the knee hurt; don't care that she was barefoot ... looking into his eyes, she believed that everything would be fine. After all, my brother promised it. Let not her own, but Narcissa liked to mentally call him that. She never dared to share the news with him. They just wandered around, laughed, and he photographed her. Will she see these pictures now? Saying goodbye, Narcissa discreetly slipped the mirror into the pocket of Sirius's jacket. She will no longer need it, and it may still serve him well.
Smiling goodbye, the girl took up the portkey. At that moment, she still did not know that this was their last walk together and that they would never be happier than today. And numerous meetings at Hogwarts will be fleeting and impersonal. Because they both made their choice.
Narcissa, as promised to her father, will become the wife of Lucius Malfoy, and the rebellious Sirius Black will leave his father's house, and his name will become synonymous with a dirty curse for the entire Black family. And indeed for the entire magical world, but only later and for another reason. For everyone except Narcissa, who will lose something very important with the departure of Sirius.
And nothing can be changed, and there is nothing to hope for.
Being in this room next to the person she hated, the girl clearly understood: now she depends on him completely and completely.